Chapter 3
Levi
I’ve known this woman for as long as I can physically remember. She’s been a part of every single portion of my life, and I’ve been nervous around her, but never like this. “Have you ever been in my house?” It’s a stupid question, but for the life of me, I can’t remember.
A small laugh puffs out against my shoulder.
I’m still holding her, her legs still wrapped around my waist. “No.” She shakes her head.
“Molly showed me pics from the listing right before you bought it and I remember thinking it was going to need a lot of work, but then my life crashed and burned. I meant to come out, you’ve invited me when you had get-togethers, but I could never make it. ”
Her tone is apologetic, and I’m getting the feeling that maybe she was right.
Maybe I don’t know her the way I thought I did.
Never do I remember her being someone I’d call a people pleaser.
“It’s okay, I was just wondering. Was going to tell you if you had, it looks way different than when I bought it. ”
“I’ll be able to tell.” Her breath stirs at my ear, causing my cock to take notice. My ears have always been sensitive. I lift her a little higher as I climb the stairs. “Remember, I saw the pictures from the listing. How much work have you done to it?”
Her voice is getting clearer than it was. Which means she’s starting to sober up, and I’m thankful for that. “Tons.” I unlock the door with the keypad I installed, and walk in, turning on the lights.
The gasp of breath from her is worth it.
I’ve completely gutted the living room and kitchen.
Before it was two separate rooms, and they cut off in the middle.
It made sense to combine them, and my uncle Nick and cousin Darren helped me do custom cut paneling and ceilings.
It’s still not exactly what I want, but it’s impressive when you see it for the first time.
I need to save up a little more money to get it completely finished.
“Levi, this is gorgeous.”
“Yeah, Nick and Darren have helped me a lot. Wouldn’t have been able to get this far without them. Dad and grandpa have helped a lot, too. It’s been a real family effort.”
She pulls back so that our eyes meet. “Your family is the best.”
“It is,” I agree.
“You’re lucky you have them.”
“I am.”
Her mouth turns down into a frown, and her eyes grow sad.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” What just happened here?
“I wish I had the type of family you do. The ones that believe you when you try to tell them something isn’t right about your marriage. They call and check on you when they haven’t heard from you in a while, that want what’s best for you, even if that’s not what’s best for them.”
A quiet sob breaks from her chest, and it almost stops my heart.
I’ve never seen her so sad, so emotional, and the worst of it all; so down on herself.
“Hey, you have me, and my family, all you have to do is ask.” I walk over to the couch, and sit her on a seat.
“Give me just a second to take care of my gear, and I’ll be right there with you. ”
The tension between us is thick, and I would do anything to break it at this point, but I’m unsure what kind of tension it is.
Is it the ribbon of awareness going between us that is tight now that I’ve seen her in a bra, and she’s no doubt felt my erection?
Is it because she’s been so open with me and she’s feeling vulnerable about it?
What if she goes to sleep tonight and wakes up in the morning, wanting to forget all of this?
Suddenly I realize she’s watching me as I unbuckle my duty belt, and remove my gun, opening up the gun safe I keep it in.
There are way too many children in my life for me not to make sure it’s locked up.
Her gaze follows as I unbutton the green shirt of my uniform, and slip it off of my shoulders, before reaching behind me and unsnapping the Velcro pieces of my bulletproof vest. Some choose to wear it over their shirts, but it gets in my way.
“Are you okay?” I ask when I see her mouth open and her breathing start to speed up.
“It’s never occurred to me that what you do actually requires a bulletproof vest. You could die.”
“Well yeah, but so could you. Riding to work, or standing in the store getting a can of Red Bull.”
She drops her gaze, an easy smile playing over her lips. “You never got to drink it, did you?”
“No,” I laugh, pulling my undershirt out of the waistband of my pants. “But it’ll be there for the next shift, I’ll just have to bring some ice with me.”
The tension between us has broken, and I’m feeling more comfortable with her right now than I have all night. “Magnolia Grace, why don’t you tell me what all of this is about?”
She sits up straighter, and it’s like at that moment she realizes she’s wearing my jacket and a bra. “Do you have a shirt I can put on? I don’t think I can have a serious conversation with you in just my bra and a pair of jeans.”
“Yeah, you want some sweatpants too?”
Grabbing her phone from her back pocket she looks at it, seeming to see what time it is. “Am I staying here tonight?”
“Yeah, I’m not letting you be by yourself. Stay with me for as long as you want. It gets lonely out here.” The words slipped so easily from my mouth, I almost try to take them back, but she beams up at me. Those blue eyes of hers shining brightly.
“I appreciate it, Levi. Yeah, I’d like a pair of sweatpants too, and some water?”
“C’mon, let’s get situated, and then you can tell me everything.”
I didn’t expect to like her in my clothes as much as I do. She wears them like they’re armor, but as we sit at my kitchen table, devouring a frozen pizza, I can’t help but notice that her bra-free breasts jiggle slightly as she moves.
“I got the papers today that he’s contesting it,” she says as she takes a drink of the Coke I set in front of her.
“Contesting what?” I question, taking a bite of the frozen pizza.
“The divorce. I thought we were clear,” she explains. “I filed last year and it didn’t seem like there was an issue. For a full year and a half we’ve gone through this bullshit, Levi. Now he’s contesting it.”
“What does he want? There’s a reason he’d contest it.”
She sighs heavily, taking the last bite of her pizza before she wipes her hands on a napkin. “Because my business has really taken off,” she answers quietly. “I mean really taken off. I’m booked solid halfway through next year.”
“Those videos on social media really do it for you, don’t they?”
“Yeah.” She nods. “And that’s part of it too. Because the videos are popular, I’m getting paid from social media, so he wants a piece of that too. It doesn’t seem to matter to him that I work close to sixty hours a week between social media and the actual business. He thinks it’s all so easy.”
Three years ago, she started a home-based business for desserts.
She dips everything in chocolate, and it’s amazing.
It looks like something you would purchase in New York, for thousands of dollars, and some of her orders are that large, but she’s worked her ass off for it. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “He’s saying that he’s sacrificed part of his life in order for me to be successful. He says his job provided us with the initial outlay for money for the business.”
“Which is bullshit,” I mutter.
“Yeah,” she scoffs. “We were in foreclosure with our home because he wasn’t able to keep a job. No one cares about that.”
“How were you able to keep it?” I ask, genuinely interested in what was going on in her life at that time.
“I don’t know,” she shrugs with a sigh. “At the very last minute, no matter what we needed, or how much it was, Cody would come up with the money. I used to ask him where he got it, because I never knew where he was, or where he went to work.”
My stomach drops as I hear her speak. That sounds like something illegal.
“It caused more fights for me to ask about it, so I stopped.” She closes her eyes.
“But now? We’ve been arguing for the last three months over what he thinks the business is valued at.
I don’t know what to do at this point. I left a message with your mom, to see if she had any tips, but I haven’t heard back from her. ”
That’s not like Ruby Harrison. She gets back to everyone quickly. “When did you call her?”
“A couple hours ago. I don’t know why I didn’t think about it before, but maybe she can help me, or Whitney can? I’m out of options, and I don’t want to lose what I’ve worked for, Levi.” She sniffs, and reaches up to wipe moisture out from under her eyes.
What can I do for her? What will she allow me to do for her? “Is there anything I can do for you, Magnolia?” I ask quietly. It’s the only thing I know to do.
Her eyes lift to mine, and the blue there is enough to take my breath away. “You’ve done enough, Levi. I thank you so much for bringing me home with you tonight, but there’s nothing I can ask you for.”
Reaching forward, I push her hair back behind her ear, and then run my finger along her chin, tilting her head. “You can ask me for anything. Whether I can help you or not is another thing all together, but you can always ask me.”
She closes her eyes. “I wish I would’ve married someone like you.”
I wish she would’ve too. Wish she would’ve known how much I wanted her way back when. But maybe it wasn’t time for us then. Maybe it’s time for us now. “You didn’t the first time.” I grin. “But who’s to say your next husband isn’t going to be me?”
She laughs, sniffling as she does. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get married again, Levi, but I’d be lucky if that’s the case.”
“Nah, I’d be the lucky one.” A yawn cracks her jaw, and I look up at the clock on the microwave. It’s almost three am. “Tired?”
“Worn out to my damn soul,” she admits.
“Me too, it’s been a long night. I had to carry some hot chick off the table in a bar. It was rough.”
She throws her napkin at me, laughing when she does, and that sound goes right to my soul. It’s nice to hear, and I hope it means she’s on her way to feeling better. At least for tonight. “Shut up, smart ass. No one asked you to come and get me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I tip my can of Coke toward her.
“Ronnie came out and was all, you gotta get this lady off the table. People are about to start stripping her bare and this is a place of business. It’s not a brothel.
” She’s laughing again. Getting up, I grab both our plates and take them over to the sink.
Dishes will have to get done tomorrow. “C’mon, let’s get to bed. ”
“Do you have a guest room?” She asks softly.
“No, but I do have a king size bed, and if you can promise to keep your hands off me, I’ll keep mine off you.”
I begin walking down the hallway, her following. “I don’t know how I’ll do it, hotshot, but I’ll try to keep my hands to myself.”
Hearing her call me a nickname makes my chest loosen slightly, and as we get ready for bed, I wonder what the hell I did to deserve all of this.