Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
The kitchen of the Hennessys’ family home had always been dark with very little light.
The windows that once covered the back of the house had been replaced with a hallway that led to the newer additions.
Dawson’s daddy had been more of a dreamer than a designer and hadn’t cared at all about how much sunlight flooded his home.
Dawson hadn’t really cared either . . . until Magnolia perched on one of the barstools that surrounded the kitchen island, her whitish-blond hair catching the small amount of light coming in through the window over the sink and illuminating the entire space like a blazing fire pit on a cold, wintry night.
Dawson couldn’t keep his gaze off her . . . or his thoughts off the kiss they’d shared last night.
Kissing Magnolia had been a mixture of heaven and hell. It had been heaven finally getting to taste those soft, plush upside-down lips. And absolute hell knowing he couldn’t take it any further than a kiss.
Even if Magnolia was up for a little fun—and if her heated response to his kiss was any indication, she was—it was a bad idea.
They were too different. California sunshine.
Texas raincloud. She didn’t need him blocking out her light and he certainly didn’t want her illuminating his darkness.
Not to mention that she was Tully’s best friend.
Dawson didn’t need to do anything else to get on Jaxon’s bad side.
Nope, there would be no repeat of last night. Magnolia was not for him.
Which didn’t explain what happened next.
Dawson had always enjoyed watching his little brother entertain women.
Just like their daddy, Huck was a natural born charmer who could wrap women around his little finger with just a few funny stories, well-timed winks, and flirty smiles.
Dawson had never once minded his little brother wielding his charm.
Until now.
When Huck had picked Magnolia up earlier, Dawson had suddenly had the overwhelming desire to punch something . . . like his little brother’s face. And he’d never in his life wanted to punch one of his siblings in anger. Horsing around, yes. Anger, no.
And the feeling only grew as he watched Huck make Magnolia laugh with the funny story he was retelling.
Dawson didn’t want Huck making Magnolia’s eyes twinkle with happiness.
He didn’t want him pulling that husky laugh from her throat.
He certainly didn’t want Magnolia reaching out and touching Huck’s arm.
“You’re teasing me, Huckleberry. That didn’t really happen.”
Huck caught her hand and kissed the back of it. “God’s truth, sweet Magnolia.”
Dawson wasn’t sure what happened. One second, he was leaning against the opposite counter with his arms crossed over his chest, and the next second, he was striding around the island and shoving Huck away from Magnolia.
He didn’t know who was more surprised—Magnolia, Huck, or Dawson.
They all just froze for a moment before Dawson tried to cover up his weird response.
“Magnolia doesn’t have time for your flirting, Huck. I’m sure she needs to get to the bookstore.”
Huck’s gaze narrowed on him for a brief second before a wicked grin creased his face. “Now that’s a real shame. I was planning on showing her the treeboat.”
“Treeboat?” Magnolia looked confused for a second before her eyes widened. “I remember the kids in school talking about y’all’s treeboat. I thought it was just playground gossip.”
Huck shook his head. “Nope. It’s real. And I’d be happy to show you, Mags.” He shot a glance at Dawson. “But I’m getting the feeling that Dawg would rather do the honors.”
Dawson glared at his brother. “Like I said, I don’t think Magnolia has time—”
Magnolia jumped off the barstool. “I’ll make time. I must see a boat in a tree.”
Looking for anything that would keep him from spending time alone with her, Dawson glanced down at her sandaled feet.
At one time, the sight of those hot pink nails with the tiny watermelon stickers on the big toes would have made him roll his eyes.
Now they just made him want to lick them to see if they tasted as good as they looked.
He pushed down the desire and lifted his gaze.
“You can’t climb the rope ladder to the treeboat in those shoes.”
Her face fell until his damn brother jumped in.
“She can borrow some sneakers from Poppy.” Huck sent Dawson a knowing grin. “Unless there’s a reason you don’t want to take her, then I’ll be more than happy to.”
Dawson didn’t know why, but he didn’t want Huck showing Magnolia anything. He scowled at him before heading for his sister’s wing. He wasn’t surprised when Magnolia followed him . . . asking all kinds of questions about the additions his daddy had built.
She finally stopped chattering when they reached Poppy’s room. He didn’t know if the high-beamed, midnight-blue ceiling with its multitude of twinkle lights shut her up or the fact that Poppy was sprawled out on the massive purple velvet bed like a starfish.
Whatever the reason, Magnolia stood quietly in the doorway as he searched through the clutter on the floor for a pair of matching sneakers. Once he found a pair, he handed them to her and headed back through the kitchen to his room.
His room was a lot different than Poppy’s.
The ceiling was much lower with no twinkle lights and there was no clutter or velvet princess bed.
In fact, as he stepped into his room, he realized it looked sparse and sterile compared to Poppy’s.
The white walls held no posters or artwork, just a floor to ceiling bookcase filled with books.
“You’re the sweet farmhouse addition?”
He stopped on his way to his dresser and turned to Magnolia. “What?”
She shrugged. “I just didn’t think you’d be the farmhouse addition. I thought you’d be the Spanish tile one with the wild ivy growing up the sides. Although now that I think about it. You are no nonsense.”
Dawson had never given much thought to the additions his daddy had added to the house each time Mama gave birth.
He’d always thought there was no rhyme or reason to them—like everything his daddy did.
But now that Magnolia had pointed it out, maybe his daddy had built them with purpose.
Or at least, an understanding of how his kids would turn out.
Poppy was a princess with strong stone walls that weren’t easily breached and with expectations of people as high as the steeply pitched roof. Jaxon was dark stucco with a strong metal roof that would shelter you for a lifetime. Huck was charming and overgrown with wild ivy.
Leaving Dawson with peeling yellowing white siding and a roof that leaked.
Obviously, Ryan Hennessy had been a bit of a prophet about his children.
The treeboat had started out as a raft. But after proving unseaworthy, their daddy had helped them hoist it into the biggest tree on the property. Over many childhood summers, additions had been built on different branches, so it now resembled their eclectic house.
Since Magnolia had become such a city girl, he couldn’t see her being impressed.
So, he was more than a little surprised when she released a squeal of delight at her first glimpse of the treeboat.
He was even more surprised when she took off running toward the rope ladder and didn’t hesitate to climb to the top.
It was Dawson who lost his breath when her foot slipped on the next to the last rung.
“Jesus! Be careful,” he snapped as he steadied the ladder, his heart in his throat. Once she had her footing, she glanced down at him and grinned.
“Is this making you nervous, Puppy Dawg?” She wiggled the ladder he’d just stepped up on.
He scowled at her, trying not to notice the length of her legs or the curve of her butt in her pink shorts. “Don’t push me, Maggie May.”
She sent him a saucy grin. “But it’s so much fun.
” She wiggled the ladder again, but he hadn’t grown up with mischievous siblings for nothing.
Even with the rope ladder swaying, he easily scaled it and came up behind her.
He didn’t realize what a bad idea it was until the front of his body was covering the back of hers; her curvy ass pressed against his fly.
All the blood in his body relocated there.
She turned her head and her wealth of sweetly scented curls brushed his nose before their gazes locked. Her lips were only an inch away from his. So close, he could feel the heated rush of her breath as she released it.
Every logical reason for why he shouldn’t kiss her again evaporated as he closed the distance between their mouths. But before he could taste those sweet lips again, she turned her head and climbed the rest of the way up the ladder like the hounds of hell were nipping at her heels.
When he got to the top, he found her standing on the edge of the main deck with her arms held out like Kate Winslet in the Titanic, the wind blowing back her blond hair and plastering her shirt to her full breasts.
“This is amazing!”
Lust receded as fear took over. He grabbed a belt loop on her shorts and tugged her back. “Stay away from the edge, dammit!”
She laughed. “And here I thought you were the daredevil of the bunch.”
“I am, but just with my own life.” He hadn’t meant to be so honest and felt extremely uncomfortable when Magnolia studied him in that all-consuming way of hers. He cleared his throat and looked away. “So, what do you think of the treeboat?”
“I think it’s the best tree house ever. Y’all did this all by yourselves?”
“We had a little help from our daddy when he was around . . . which wasn’t much.”
“And your mama? Did she help?”
He snorted. “If it didn’t have something to do with Honky Honk Heaven, she wasn’t interested. She didn’t come up here once.” And he had invited her too many times to count in a vain attempt to hear her praise. He pushed the thought away. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”