Chapter 17 #2
“Clearly.” I shrug. “But I wasn’t about to correct you.” Sweat beads on my forehead, and I blot it with my sleeve. “My mom and aunt restored it when I was a kid, turned it into a wedding venue. Between us and the dance hall, we marry off half the county.”
The barn starts to cool, and I connect my phone to the speakers. A loud beep echoes off the walls. A few seconds later, the song kicks on, and Holden groans.
“I know you hate it,” I say. “But it is what it is.”
“Correction. We hate it.” He stops in front of me, eyes almost silver under the dim light. “And that makes us a team.”
“Aww, that’s cute. We’re a team.” I’m teasing, but something about the way he says it—the way he looks at me when he says it—takes me right back to this morning. Intimate, in a way I can’t explain.
My knees threaten to give as his hand finds my back, and just like yesterday, and all the days that came before, he pulls me against him.
It’s a move he’s done a hundred times, so why is it suddenly hard to swallow?
It feels like that first day, when his proximity knocked me off-kilter.
When his warm, smoky scent held me hostage.
But something’s changed. And it isn’t the citrusy soap from the toiletry bag.
Relax, Maggie. You’re just as susceptible to Holden Shaw as everyone else.
I restart the song and shove my phone in my pocket. “Ready?”
Holden’s fingers close around mine, rough and all too familiar.
“Quick, quick, slow, slow,” he mutters, and I smile at his concentration as we begin to move. His steps are fine, but he’s back to watching them.
“Look up,” I say, the sound of my voice making him stumble. “If you can see your feet, you’re not close enough.”
He shakes it off and tries again, but his eyes find the floor by the chorus.
“Holden.” I stop us. “You have to keep your head up.”
“Can we maybe do it without the song for a while?”
“Without any music?”
“Just the beating of your heart, Magnolia,” he says, and I warm at the use of my name.
My beautiful name that suits me.
I stop the track, and the barn falls quiet, broken only by the purr of the AC.
“That’s better.” His arms go around me like muscle memory. He dips his head, the brim of his hat grazing my neck. “What is that? The scent you always wear?”
“Don’t tease me,” I say, heat rushing to my cheeks. “It’s my body wash. Magnolia Sunrise.”
“I like it.” He grins. “Though I’m partial to Holden Moonbeam, myself.”
I give him a playful shove as we fall back into position, then count us off. Without music, the steps land a little off rhythm, but it’s better than before.
We circle the floor again and again, his whispered count keeping time.
“You’re doing great,” I tell him after another lap. “Let’s try it with the song.”
“Do I have to?” His mouth quirks, his voice taking on a whine. “I’ll—dammit. Sorry.” He fishes his vibrating phone out of his pocket. “It’s Saturday. I didn’t think…”
“It’s fine.” Today wasn’t planned, so I can’t really be bothered by it. Doesn’t mean I’m not.
“Hey, Han,” he says, and something in me sinks.
Are you bothered, Magnolia? Or jealous?
I wonder if Han knows her boyfriend slept with me last night. The thought, misguided as it is, sparks a tingle down my spine before guilt douses it.
Wow, Maggie.
“I’ll just be out there,” I say, turning for the door, but Holden lifts a hand, stopping me.
I cross my arms, eyes fixed on him. Then he smiles—smiles—for her, even as he’s looking at me, and that twinge of jealousy sharpens.
Why are you jealous, exactly?
“Hannah,” he says to the woman on the phone, “would you like to meet Maggie?”
Oh, no.
I spin away, but he catches my wrist before I can escape.
“This really isn’t a good time,” I say, raking frantic fingers through my ponytail.
Holden carries on like he didn’t hear me.
“Hang on. Switching to FaceTime.” The line cuts out for a second. “Say hi to Maggie, Hannah.” He turns the phone my way, and the sweetest little voice I’ve ever heard spills from the speaker.
“Hi, Maggie,” she says, and I force myself to look. A girl, maybe ten, with light wavy hair and freckled cheeks, peeks back at me. “You’re pretty.”
“Um, thanks. So are you.” My brain scrambles for any mention of a daughter. I’d know if he had a kid, right? Wait, does everyone know?
“Maggie…” Holden’s voice cuts through the noise in my head. “This is Hannah Banana. My sister.”
“Your sister,” I echo, and a wild laugh bursts out of me. “Hannah’s your sister?”
Relief hits like champagne bubbles.
Another laugh follows the first, and soon I’m doubled over, hands on my knees, shoulders shaking.
For crying out loud, you look like a loon.
“You’re funny, too,” I hear her say.
“Maggie?” Holden asks slowly. “What’s happening?”
“Bee… A bee flew in my shirt.”
He arches a brow. “And it told you a joke?”
I drag in a breath, then take the phone from Holden. “Sorry, Hannah,” I say, a final giggle escaping. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
By the time the call ends, it’s getting late, so we decide to quit for the night. Holden veers toward the carriage house, and I trudge up the stairs. The porch light glows overhead, moths circling.
Today was a good day, but I feel the post-something slump. The one that follows a favorite concert or vacation or visit from a friend. Not sparring with Holden has been nice. More than nice. I don’t want it to end.
I glance over my shoulder as he enters his code. “Hey—should I learn Katie’s lines so I can help you practice?”
“No lines during the dance. Artie moved them to another scene.”
“Oh.”
He shrugs, a little sheepish. “I’ve got enough to worry about just getting through the damn thing.”
“Right,” I say, offering a small smile. “See you tomorrow?”
His door opens, then shuts again. “Actually, I could eat.” He checks his phone. “It’s only seven thirty. Something’s bound to be open around here on a Saturday night.”
I bounce back down the steps. “We could grab some fried chicken in town. I know a place.”
“Lucy’s? We did that already.”
“Lucy’s was chicken tenders,” I say. “Completely different food group.”
He shakes his head, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Just give me a minute to get cleaned up.”
“Oh, yeah. Same.”
“Want to bring it back here?” he asks. “Watch a movie?”
“Maybe even stay awake for it this time?”
His mouth tilts. “I did stay awake, Maggie. I didn’t miss a thing.”