Chapter Twenty-Three

SIMON

Something tells me that asshole is far from finished. It guts me that my girl had to see the contents of that box, makes me feel murderous to know that someone wants to hurt her like that.

I pace up and down my hallway, trying to calm the anger raging through my veins. I don’t want Magnolia to see me this mad. After about thirty minutes, I’m about as calm as I’m gonna get.

Just as I’m about to head to bed, my phone rings. “Hello?”

A masculine voice sounds over the line. “Simon McAllister?”

“Yes, sir. May I ask who’s calling?”

“Officer Byrnes. Wanted to give you the good news personally.”

“Good news?” I ask. “What good news?”

“We got him. Another unit saw him fly through a stop sign and pulled him over. When they ran his license, the dispatch saw the order of protection, service pending, and alerted the officers. They called a deputy to the scene to serve him.”

“Holy shit.” I audibly exhale. “For real?”

“For real. Y’all have a nice night now.”

Too excited to wait for morning, I barge into the bedroom and wake Magnolia up. I feel slightly guilty doing so, but I know she’ll sleep easier knowing it’s done.

“Goldilocks, wake up.” I shake her gently, and she blinks herself awake.

“What?” she mumbles, sounding cute as hell.

“Officer Byrnes just called and let me know they served Grant the protection order.”

She bolts upright. “They did?”

“They did, baby. Now, if that asshole comes near you again, his ass is going to jail.”

“Wh-what if he requests a hearing?” Magnolia grips the covers and pulls them up to her chin.

“One day at a time, pretty girl. One day at a time. If that waste of space requests a hearing, I’ll be right by your side, holding your hand the entire time.”

“You p-promise?”

I hold up my index, middle, and ring fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

§

It’s been three weeks since Grant was served. For the first two weeks, Magnolia was on pins and needles, checking the mailbox every day, expecting to find a letter stating that he’d requested a hearing.

But, it never happened, and with each passing day, she seems to breathe a bit easier.

Today’s my last day of classes before spring break, and just like we talked about, we rented a house down in Orange Beach. Myla Rose was hesitant about shutting the salon down for an entire week, but Azalea convinced her and that was that.

The only member of our crew who won’t be joining us is Seraphine. Her dad’s nurse needed the week off since her son is out of school, so she will be hanging out with her dad, making sure he eats right and takes his meds.

I wait patiently as my first class of the day files in and takes their seats. They’re loud and unruly—none of them want to be here today.

“All right, world historians, let’s settle down.”

Right on cue, Desi back-talks me. “Why don’t you just let us have a free day, Mr. M?”

“Because free days don’t enrich your mind.”

Desi’s eyes are all fire. “Actually”—she holds up her pointer finger—“the internet says your brain is one of the hardest-working muscles in your body, and if you don’t rest it from time to time, you’re actively putting yourself at risk for long-term side effects, such as blurred memories, which won’t help anyone ace those pop quizzes you love to dish out. Also, it can cause brain shrinkage.”

I raise my brows at Desi, all the while biting the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. Mateo sure has his hands full with her.

“Sí, you heard me right, Mr. M. They say the volume of your frontal and parietal lobe can shrink. That’s no bueno. Last but not least, you’re putting yourself at risk for emotional instability, which also puts your body at risk! You don’t want to put us at risk, do you, Mr. McAllister?”

“Well, Desi, you make a good argument. I guess we can watch a movie today.” I walk to my classroom closet and roll out the television cart. Judging from the smile plastered across her face, Desi’s counting this as a win. Little does she know, we were gonna watch a movie today anyway. I finished my grading last night and have no desire to do anything school-related over my break.

The rest of the day flies by, and before I know it, I’m pulling up to the house. Magnolia meets me at the door. “Did you have a good day?” she asks, rising up onto her tippy-toes to kiss me.

“Better now,” I reply, skimming my nose along her jaw.

“Oh God, save that shit until after I leave,” Seraphine blurts out from just inside the doorway.

Waggling my brows, I smile at her over Magnolia’s shoulder. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

Magnolia and Seraphine both laugh, knowing full well I’m joking. “Yeah, yeah, lover boy. Y’all have fun at the beach.” Seraphine’s tone turns wistful, and I can see in Magnolia’s eyes she feels bad her cousin isn’t joining us.

“I wish you were coming,” Magnolia says, embracing her.

“Me too, honey.”

The girls say their goodbyes then I lead Magnolia inside, backing her against the wall. I grip the backs of her thighs and lift her, wrapping her legs around my waist.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” I growl into her ear, loving the way she comes alive at my touch.

I rock my hips into hers, and she groans at the contact. “Oh God, Simon.”

Devouring her mouth, I blindly move us to the bedroom. I deposit Magnolia down on the bed and she grips the front of my shirt, pulling me down on top of her.

Lightning fast, we remove one another’s clothes, reveling in each other’s body. Unable to wait a second longer, I slide into her. “So fucking good, Goldilocks. You fit me just right.”

Magnolia answers me with a swivel of her hips, meeting me thrust for thrust. A light sheen of sweat covers us both, and I think she’s close based on the sounds she’s making.

I pick up the pace, and before I know it, we’re both falling apart. “I love you,” Magnolia whispers as she comes down from her orgasm.

“Not as much as I love you,” I reply, pulling out, immediately missing her warmth. “C’mon, pretty girl, let’s get cleaned up and pack so we can head to the beach. I’m dying to see that swimsuit you told me about.”

§

With our bags packed and loaded in Magnolia’s trunk, we make the forty-minute drive to Orange Beach. The GPS tells me my destination is ahead on the right, and I slow, not wanting to miss it.

Not that I could—the house Azalea booked is avocado green and massive, standing two stories tall on stilts. “Good Lord,” Magnolia murmurs as we pull in behind Drake’s truck. “This thing’s like the Jolly Green Giant of beach houses!”

“Let’s go in and find our room. The sooner I get to see you in that swimsuit, the better.”

I grab our bags, and together we make our way up the flight of steps and through the front door. Azalea is in the kitchen, stocking the fridge with groceries. Her little pug, Boudreaux, sits at her feet, his tail wagging and his eyes tracking her movements, just hoping she drops some food for him. Meanwhile, Cash and Drake work together to set up Brody’s hexagon-shaped playpen.

“Y’all having some trouble?” I ask as they bicker over the assembly instructions.

“Yeah, we are,” Drake deadpans. “Swear this shit is written in another language.”

Magnolia moves into the kitchen to help Azalea, and I drop down beside Cash. “Lemme see that.” He hands over the pamphlet, and I study it for a moment. “Well, here’s where you messed up.” I nudge Drake out of the way. “You gotta hook your finger in this here loop and stretch the strap before you tighten the buckle.” I grunt as I pull the strap toward me and manage to secure it.

Footsteps sound from the hall, and Myla Rose steps into the room with Brody on her hip. “Oh my stars! How many men does it take to put together your playpen, B?” She asks the question in that high-pitched voice you only use with babies and animals, and we all laugh, because damn, it shouldn’t have been that difficult.

“Aw, hell!” Cash exclaims.

“What?” Myla asks as she sets Brody down on the floor, where he promptly crawls straight to Cash and holds out his arms for his daddy to pick him up.

“Just realized we gotta take the damn thing back apart to lug it down to the beach.”

At that, we all laugh again. “Nah, look,” I say. “Just press here and here.” I demonstrate, pushing down on two of the side bars, and it collapses into itself. “See? Easy as can be.”

“Fucking brag about it,” Drake mumbles under his breath as he stands and goes to Azalea, reaching down to pet Boudreaux’s head.

Smirking, I say, “Quit being a baby and let’s head down to the beach.”

We all retreat to our rooms to change, and even though I’ve seen her stark-ass naked, Magnolia opts to undress in the bathroom. All I have to do is lose my shirt, which I promptly toss onto the bed.

Five minutes pass, and then ten. I rap my knuckles on the door. “You okay, Goldilocks?”