Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Magnolia
“Hello, welcome! How can I caffeinate you today?” I greet a new customer.
“Hi, um…I’m not sure. What do you suggest?”
I lean over the counter and point to my menu with all my beverage options and explain a few in detail.
“If you like sweets, I’d suggest the Maple Me Crazy Latte, but if you have a more bitter spicy palate, then I’d say the Basic Witch Spice.”
He nods as he reads what’s in each one. “Actually, I’ll try the Hot Mess Express. Sounds good.”
“Amazin’ choice. That’s my favorite.” I wink. “Can I get you a muffin with your drink?”
“Sure, whatever you have.”
He reaches for his wallet as I ring him up. When I glance to my left, Tripp’s glaring at me with his arms crossed.
“That’ll be seven-fifty,” I tell him, leaning over the counter again.
He hands me a ten and tells me to keep it.
“Aw, you’re too kind. Thank you.” I smile at him, then get started on his latte.
Instead of Tripp sitting on the bucket like I’ve asked, he stands and makes his presence known to the guy.
“Haven’t seen you ’round here. You a local?” he asks the guy.
I groan at the harshness of his tone.
“Just moved here. I work at my aunt’s bookstore across the street.”
“Mrs. Weis is your aunt? Oh my gosh, I adore her.” I gush but am lying through my teeth.
She’s the one who writes in her notebook every time I stop in to use her bathroom.
Not sure what she plans on doing with her little notes, but if she doesn’t want me squatting on the sidewalk in front of her store, she’ll deal with it.
“It’s only temporary until I go to college, but yeah, not a bad job,” he says.
I turn around and set his drink down, then bag up his muffin. “Guess that means we’ll be seein’ a lot of each other.”
“Yeah, there aren’t many coffee places here.”
Which benefits me greatly.
“Have a magnificent day. See you soon…”
“Grant,” he supplies.
I hold out my hand, and he takes it. “Magnolia. Welcome to Sugarland Creek”
Before we can pull apart, Tripp’s hand comes between us. “And I’m the boyfriend.”
I grind down on my teeth to stop myself from causing a scene.
“Nice to meet y’all.” Grant nods, taking his items. “See ya later.”
“Bye now.” I wave before he walks across the street.
“Are you freakin’ kidding me?” I turn toward Tripp and whisper-shout.
“Do you have to flirt with every single guy when I’m here?”
“I’m being nice, Tripp! It’s how I get tips. I know you’ve never worked in customer service, but this is literally part of the job.”
This is our third argument about it in three days.
“You’re more than just being nice.”
“No, I’m not. I’ve never given any of them my number nor have they ever asked me out on a date. Even if they did, I wouldn’t have agreed to one.”
“So you leanin’ over the counter with your tits out is for tips?”
I glance down and take a moment to appreciate how good the girls look in my T-shirt. Though I’m wearing a fleece jacket, I didn’t zip it up because with two people in this small space, I get warm.
“Surprised you didn’t read about it in one of your baby apps, but breasts can double in size during pregnancy. I can’t help that. Blame the hormones.”
His eyes roll as he crosses his arms over his chest.
“Are you tellin’ me you don’t flirt with the customers during cabin call? Just a little friendly ‘Howdy, sweetheart. How y’all doin’ today? Need me to carry those big, heavy bags for you with my massive muscles?’” I mimic in an exaggerated deep Southern accent.
He pops a brow. “You think I have massive muscles?”
“Oh my God!” I smack his chest, and before I can pull away, he grabs my wrist and yanks me closer.
“Sunny…” His warning tone sends shivers down my spine.
“I don’t flirt with other women. Hell, I haven’t even looked at one since the moment you became mine.
I know we’re just friends and roommates, but I have no interest in anyone but you.
And before you say it, there is no movin’ on for me.
” He shrugs helplessly. “There never was.”
Goddamn him. Doesn’t he know I’m an emotional and hormonal mess these days? It’s bad enough I had a full-on cry fest at my ultrasound appointment yesterday when we confirmed the baby was a girl.
And the day before that when we went to the sheriff’s office, I had to give a full statement about my phone call with Travis, and it had me in tears again just thinking about all the shit I’m dragging Tripp through.
Then again when I told my dad.
So it’s safe to say I’m tired of crying.
The morning sickness hasn’t been as bad in my second trimester, so that’s been a blessing, but the heartburn at night is killing me. She better come out with a full head of hair after this.
A throat clearing grabs our attention before I can respond to Tripp and find Landen staring at us with a shit-eating smirk.
“What’s a guy gotta do for some service ’round here?” he taunts.
“Show me your abs and dick,” I blurt, fully aware I’m adding fuel to the fire that’s Tripp’s patience level.
He pops a brow, amusement written all over his pretty boy face. “Is this a game of I show you mine and you show me yours?”
“I swear to God, you two.” Tripp shakes his head, clearly done with us. “If I thought you were actually tryin’ to get into her pants, there’s no way I’d leave her with you.”
Tilting my head toward him, I glare. “I’m not a puppy. I can be left alone and not chew on the furniture.”
“Then behave, Sunny.” He kisses my forehead before walking out of the trailer. “You too,” he warns Landen, and the two of them share a moment before Tripp drives off in his truck.
Since they need him for cabin call at three, and I don’t close until then, Landen stays with me for thirty minutes so I’m not alone. Then he’ll drive us back to the ranch, and I’ll either hang out with him or Noah at the training center until Tripp’s done with work.
“How do you spend all day with him?” Landen asks once Tripp leaves. “He seems moody.”
“That’s because he’s not a sit and do nothin’ kinda guy. He needs activity and to be outside workin’. Like a wild animal.”
Landen paces the small area as I wipe down counters, and I laugh to myself at him being exactly the same way.
“Mags.”
I’m on my hands and knees looking for a box of straws when he says my name. “What?”
“Stay down there.”
“And what? Give you head? Har har, very funny.”
“I’m being dead serious. Do. Not. Get. Up.”
The panic in his voice is making me panic.
Moments later, I hear a deep, recognizable voice when he responds to Landen’s warm greeting.
“You’re not Magnolia,” he says. His tone is meant to be lighthearted, but I hear the seriousness in it.
“Nope, you caught me.” Landen bemuses, and when I take a peek at him, I see his firm stance as he crosses his arms. “I’m just helpin’ out while she’s away. In New Jersey. Visitin’ her Italian family. A big reunion.”
The fuck?
That is weirdly specific.
“Ah. That’s interesting. Sutherland is a Scottish surname.”
“She’s Italian on her mom’s side.” Landen’s response is immediate.
“Explains her dark hair and complexion.”
“Guess so. Can I getcha a drink or muffin?” Landen prompts.
“Just a black coffee.”
“Comin’ right up.” When Landen turns around to grab a cup, I hear the recognizable sound of a gun cocking. I can’t see the other side of the counter, but Landen’s spine goes ramrod straight.
“Tell me where she really is,” Emilio demands. “Now.”
I cover my mouth with my palm, trying to hide my heavy breathing as my heart beats wildly.
“I already told you,” Landen says, spinning back toward him. “She’s not here.”
“And I know you’re lying. So you either tell me or I’m going to shoot up this whole little trailer and then light a match and leave you inside it.”
Oh my fucking God.
I don’t know how he’s keeping his cool, but he swipes his tongue along his lower lip as he smirks. “No, you won’t.”
The fuck is he doing? Why is he arguing with a man who has a literal gun to his face?
My phone’s in my back pocket, but I’m too scared to grab it. I don’t want to make any sudden movement and alert Emilio I’m in here. But if I don’t, he could kill Landen.
“Pretty confident for a guy who’s facing a death sentence. Tell me where Magnolia is and you won’t get hurt.”
Landen scrubs a hand over his jawline, looking more amused than anything.
“This is the problem with you city-slickers who handle guns. Y’all gotta be real loud and flashy about ‘em. You don’t just whip it out and pull the trigger like a man.”
Landen Michael! I swear to God. If he survives this, I’m going to kill him!
“Excuse—”
It happens so fast that I barely have time to register Landen’s hand reaching behind his back and underneath his shirt. Seconds later, he reveals a handgun, aims it at Emilio, and then fires within three seconds.
My whole body jumps at the booming sound that echoes throughout the trailer.
“Holy shit!” I scream, unable to hold it in.
“See? That’s how we shoot down here in the South. We don’t just wave it around like a flag. If it’s in our hand, it’s to be used.”
Landen’s talking to him, so that must mean he’s not dead. Then I hear a faint groan.
“Mags, call the sheriff. Tell him cleanup on aisle seven.”
“W-what?” That is not even a little bit funny.
“He’s not dead. Yet,” he reassures me. “But he will bleed out if we don’t get him an ambulance.”
“Where’d you shoot him?” I stumble, getting to my feet, but Landen takes my hand to help me up the rest of the way.
Landen’s devilish smirk doesn’t ease my panic. “His groin.”
Jesus.
Landen walks out of the trailer, kicks Emilio’s gun out of reach, and then looks down at him. “So on a scale of one to ten, what would you rate our Southern hospitality so far?”
I finally manage to take my phone out with a shaky hand and dial 911. When Wendy picks up, I tell her a quick recap, and then she informs me the EMTs are on their way.
“Tell the sheriff to come too, please?” I plead.
“He’ll be there, sweetie. Just hang tight.”
Once we hang up, I stand next to Landen.
“Where’d you get a gun?”