“Good. I just want to kiss you.” I don’t know that I’ve ever spoken a more honest statement. When she doesn’t respond, still appearing trapped in the uncomfortable conversation, I lean forward against the counter and whisper, the tip of my nose close to hers, “I just want to kiss you, Magnolia.”
Her lips part once but there are no words. Maybe she’s not used to the bluntness. Maybe she thought having a daughter would send me packing.
“It hasn’t been this hard for me to get a kiss in a long time … probably since I met this girl at a bar named Rose. Took hours of convincing back then,” I joke, attempting to lighten the mood. Her beautiful blue eyes open slowly but she doesn’t budge.
Her expression softens but when she swallows, her throat tightens.
“I just want to kiss you,” I repeat.
“Please,” she pleads with me but I don’t know what for.
“Please what? Tell me what you want,” I say, pushing her for more.
“Please kiss me.” Her voice is begging and I’m more than relieved to oblige, leaning over the counter with my hand gripping the back of her neck. It’s a desperate, deep kiss that steals the tension, shattering it when her lips crack against mine.
If it was sparks I felt on the pier, as I did at the bar that night years ago, right here, right now, those sparks just burst into flames. Her lips part and I deepen the kiss, my hands moving lower.
Fumbling in between the heated kiss, she leads me back to the corner of the gallery. My body’s pressed against hers, caging her in. Needing to breathe, she breaks the kiss but I can’t. Not with the way her fingers dig into my shoulders like she needs me to stay right there with her. Nibbling down her neck, I let the memories of years ago wash over me and mix with the here and now.
A soft moan escapes her lips and my need turns primal. “I want you,” I groan against the curve of her neck. This woman makes me want, she’s a beautiful tease, but there’s a softness and sweetness to her that makes the longing deeper and something more.
“I can’t,” she says in a breathy voice, calming herself with deeper breaths and finally loosening her grip on me.
“You worried someone’s going to see?” I ask and glance over my shoulder. With my head spinning, and all the blood in my body nowhere near my brain, I come to the very obvious realization that this woman doesn’t want to be fucked in her place of work.
Both of us still catching our breath, she answers me, “I haven’t dated in a long time.” The cords of her neck tense as she swallows then adds, “It’s a small town and I already have scandal all over me. I don’t really want any more.”
“Kissing me would be scandalous?” I offer her an asymmetric grin and nudge my nose against hers.
Even though it lightens the tension, she’s adamant. “We were doing a little more than kissing.”
“I know,” I tell her, “I get it.”
There’s a look in her eyes, like there’s something else, but I tell her the one thing I decided, “If you want to kiss me, then kiss me.”
She leans forward and plants a chaste kiss on my lips, this time molding her lips to mine a little more, and then gives me another, deepening it.
If she just keeps kissing me, there won’t be any problems. Robert can fuck off now that there are no secrets between us.
MAGNOLIA
“I am complete chicken poo.” The theme song to Bridget’s favorite show fills the living room. She’s plopped cross-legged on the ottoman with mac and cheese on a little pink plate. Well … there’s some remnants of cheese left. I’m surprised my little girl didn’t lick the plate she ate it so fast.
“It’s ridiculous. I am an emotional wreck, for one, and chicken poo on top of that.” I cannot believe I told Robert but not Brody. I just … I just wanted him to kiss me again and I’m so afraid that he’s never going to kiss me again.
“Chicken poo isn’t quite what I’d call you.” Renee says each word slowly, carefully, testing them out. One would think she’s trying to comfort me, but knowing her she’s trying to twist the words to come up with some sort of teasing joke to make me laugh. She bugged me for every sordid detail. So the moment I locked up at work and came home, Renee was on me. As if I wouldn’t tell her anyway. She’s the first and only person I texted.
She already knew he’d come to the shop, though. Apparently “the handsome young bachelor” is the talk of the town. And the town knows he’s got an interest in me. I’m pretty sure the second part of the rumor going around is completely made up. The part about Brody and Robert hating one another. They don’t even know each other.