Mischief & Magnolias (Magnolia Branch Book 2)

by Kristi Cook

  And what if it isn’t together? The thought startles me, and I wonder if he’s thinking it, too. I shrug it off, realizing that, for whatever reason, Ryder is feeling unsettled right now. Nostalgic for the old days, maybe, when everything was so much simpler. You work hard, you study, you graduate, you go to college. We did all that. It was a clearly laid plan, spread out before us. But from here on out, we have to make our own path.

  I scoot closer to him, pulling the blanket around us as I lean into him. “Ryder, we don’t have to figure any of this out now. You know that, right?”

  He lets out a sigh. “I’m just so used to having a plan.”

  I kiss his cheek. “I know you are. And plans are great. They are. But maybe right now is a time for taking chances, instead. Seeing where life takes us. We can make a plan later.”

  He nods. A minute or two passes in silence. Then, “Can I ask you a question, Jemma?”

  I just nod.

  “Do you see your future with me? No matter if it’s here, or there, or somewhere else?”

  I swallow hard, thinking carefully about what he’s asked. I mean, what’s the right answer? What does he want to hear? Will saying ‘yes’ scare him away? Make him think I’m too serious, too clingy? But if I say ‘no’ will he begin to doubt me? If he wants me to say yes, but I say no…

  I shake my head, trying to gather my scattered, incoherent thoughts. Ryder doesn’t play games; that’s not the way he is. He says what he means, for the most part. If he’s asking, it means he wants to know the truth. And I owe him that—the truth.

  It only takes a moment of searching my heart to find the answer. “I can’t imagine any future without you in it, Ryder. I just can’t, whether it’s in New York or Magnolia Branch or somewhere else. And I’m sorry if that scares you, if you think it’s too soon, that we’re too young…or whatever. It’s just that—”

  He cuts me off with a kiss—a gentle, tender kiss that makes butterflies take flight in my stomach. All these months, and he still has that effect on me.

  “I think we’re on the same page, then,” Ryder says softly, his breath mingling with mine.

  “Good,” I say with a sigh. “You had me worried for a second there. I thought maybe it was a trick question.”

  “Nope, no trick questions. It looks like you’re stuck with me.” He reaches for me, pulling me into his lap.

  I straddle him, my arms around his neck, and kiss him until I’m breathless. And then I pull away, gasping for air as I stare into his chocolate-brown eyes.

  He trails one finger down the side of my face. “Unless you change your mind about this Stefan dude and decide you want him, instead.”

  “Uh, yeah, not a chance.” I lean in for another kiss—wanting more, needing more—but he draws back.

  “He posted another picture of you two, by the way.”

  I let out my breath in a rush. “He did not. Did he?”

  “Check your Facebook.”

  I reach into my back pocket for my phone, quickly tapping away to open the app. “What the hell?” I say as I check my notifications and pull up my page. And there it is, a picture of him in a jacket and tie the night of his fraternity formal, with his arm around me. I’m wearing a dress—Ryder and I were going out to dinner that night to celebrate our anniversary, of all things—and I’d run into Stefan in the lobby while he was waiting for his date. I’d told him he looked nice, straightened his tie, maybe, and a mutual friend had snapped the picture.

  Why would he post it now? I scroll through the rest of his recent photos—not a single one of him and his date to that particular party. He’s captioned the picture “Winter Formal,” so of course it looks like I’m his date. Douchebag.

  “I am going to have a talk with this guy,” I say, shaking my head.

  “Please do.”

  “Anyway, do I have to explain it? Look at the date—it was our anniversary. Remember, we went to that Cuban place up by you? That’s why I’m so dressed up. I was just going—”

  “You don’t have to explain it,” Ryder says, cutting me off. “Though I’m surprised the asshole didn’t tag me, just to make sure he got my attention.”

  “Sorry,” I say.

  He leans forward till our noses touch. “You don’t have to be. Now, where were we?”

  “I’m pretty sure your hands were here,” I say, moving them to my waist. “And your mouth was definitely here.” I touch my lips to his, sinking into his warmth as his hands slide around to my back, drawing me closer still.

  “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asks with a groan.

  “I think I do,” I say with a grin.

  Oh, I definitely do.

  Chapter 9

  I’m lying in bed that night, reading the first book in a new series I’d gotten as a Christmas gift from Nan, one I’ve been dying to read. She knows I have no patience whatsoever and won’t start a series till every single book is out, so that I can finish without having to wait between installments.

  A knock sounds on my door. “Hey, Jemma?” my mom calls out. “Can I come in?”

  I set the book aside. “Sure, I’m just reading. What’s up?”

  She comes in and sits on the edge of my bed. “Nothing much, hon. Just wanted to say goodnight. It was a crazy day, huh?”

  “Yeah, but it was good. Thanks for my stuff—I love it all. Especially the coat—it’s really going to come in handy these next few months.” She’d gotten me a really nice, warm parka—more coat than I’ve ever owned, but perfect for a New York City winter.

  “Does it fit? I saved the receipt, just in case.”

  “It fits perfectly. It’s really nice, Mom.”

  “Good, I’m glad you like it. I noticed that new heart necklace you’ve been wearing. Was that from Ryder?” She’s trying to sound casual, but there’s a curious edge to her voice.

  “Yeah, he gave it to me last night. Want to see?” I offer, reaching for the box on my bedside table.

  She takes it and pulls out the pendant, examining it closely. “It’s lovely. He has good taste.”

  I nod. “He does. The instant camera is nice, too. I’ve been wanting one.”

  “He must have told Laura Grace. I assume that’s why she got you the scrapbook—to go with it.”

  “Guess so.” It’s a beautiful, hand-made scrapbook crafted from vintage fabrics and ribbons, with real paper picture corners.

  My mom nods, and then clears her throat uncomfortably. “I feel like I’ve been neglecting you, what with all this stuff going on with your sister.” She shakes her head ruefully. “There’s always something with your sister, isn’t there? You’ve always been my easy child. Anyway, I know we haven’t had much time to talk about what’s going on with you—you and Ryder, I mean.” She pauses, clearing her throat again. “I think it’s important to talk about things openly, and I just wanted to be sure that you and Ryder…that you’re…well, that you’re being careful. And safe, if you know what I mean.”

  “Oh, God, Mom. Please, no.” Where are those convenient, ground-opening holes when you need one? Why do we have to do this?

  My mom pats me on the leg. “I know it’s awkward, honey, but it’s best to have open lines of communication, don’t you think? I’m not passing judgment here—you two are almost nineteen years old, off at college. I just want to make sure that you’re—”

  “Yes, Mom,” I say, my cheeks burning. “We are being safe and careful, I promise. Remember last year, when I saw Dr. Parrish for my terrible cramps and she referred me to that OB/GYN? I went on the pill then.”

  “Oh. Right.” Her cheeks match mine now. “I just…I never even imagined that you and Ryder…” She trails off miserably.

  “How could you have known? Anyway, you don’t have to worry about that, okay? We’re good.”

  “Okay, whew. Well, um, I hope he’s…I mean, I hope he’s…good to you. Gentle and patient and, well…generous.”

  Generous? What is she talking about?

 
; “Because if he’s not generous, Rob can talk to him, and—”

  “He’s…oh, my God, Mom, I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. Ryder is very good to me. He’s…Ryder. And…if it makes you feel any better, there wasn’t anyone before him—for either of us, okay?”

  “I’m glad, honey. I just want you to know, if you ever need to talk about anything—anything at all—I’m here for you, okay? I know this has taken a bit for me to get used to, but I love you both—you and Ryder. Laura Grace, she just…well, you know Ryder, hon. He doesn’t do anything halfway. If he’s fallen for you, then he’s fallen hard. We don’t want to see either of you get hurt, that’s all.”

  “So you two are worried that I’m going to hurt him? Is that what you’re saying?”

  She shakes her head. “That’s not what I’m saying—not at all. You two are equally stubborn, that’s for sure—a perfect match in that department. We just want you kids to be happy. If you’re both committed to this, then so are we.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” I lean over and hug her tightly.

  “I hope you don’t ever feel like you have hide something like this from me again. I know I’m partly to blame. I just want open lines of communication from here on out, okay?”

  “Okay.” I take a deep breath, glad this seems to be winding down. “I’m sorry Nan’s leaving. I never even imagined…”

  “Me, either. Though I should have seen it coming, with both of them so interested in politics. But don’t worry, Daddy and I will get through it. This is what happens—kids grow up and fly the coop. Maybe one day they’ll come home to roost. Or you and Ryder will.” She shrugs. “I just hope the both of you don’t make me wait too long for grandchildren.”

  I have to laugh at that, considering the conversation we just had. “Let us get through college first, okay?”

  “Definitely. And grad school, and who knows what else after. Just know you’ll always have a home here waiting, if you decide to come back.”

  Tears burn behind my eyelids. “I love you, Mom.”

  “Love you too, sweetie.” She leans over to kiss the top of my head, then rises. “Okay, I’ll let you get back to that book of yours. And look at your phone, all lit up with texts and missed calls. I’ll bet you Rob just had a little talk with Ryder,” she says with a wink. “You two can commiserate together.”

  I just roll my eyes. “Goodnight, Mom.”

  “’Night, Jemma.”

  As soon as she shuts the door, I grab my phone and type out a text.

  You are not going to believe the embarrassing convo I just had with my mom…

  It was probably about as embarrassing as the one I just had with my dad, he answers. He kept using the word ‘generous’ over and over again.

  Oh, my God, so did my mom! You think they actually planned out what they were going to say together?

  I wouldn’t be surprised.

  It might be funny if it weren’t so awful. Still, I’m kind of glad we had it. I guess this is what growing up feels like.

  * * *

  Three days after Christmas, Morgan calls me, clearly crying. “Have you talked to Lucy?” she asks without intro.

  I sit up in bed, rubbing my eyes. What time is it? I glance over at the clock on my bedside table. Ten-thirty. Wow, I slept late. “Um, no. Should I have?”

  Morgan sniffles loudly, but doesn’t reply.

  “Hey, Morg, what’s going on? You’re scaring me.”

  “I can’t…she’ll have to tell you.”

  My heart accelerates alarmingly. “Tell me what?”

  “Jemma?” my mom calls up the stairs. “Honey, are you up? Lucy’s here.”

  What is going on? “Yeah, I’m up,” I yell. “Morgan? I better go. Lucy’s here. But I’ll call you right back, okay?”

  “Okay,” she says, sounding miserable.

  I end the call as my door creaks open. “What the—”

  “Hey, sorry, I know it’s early,” Lucy says, stepping into my room. “But I wanted to tell you before Morgan did.”

  I gesture toward my cell in my lap. “That was just her on the phone.”

  “So you know?” She sits on the edge of my bed.

  “Know what? She didn’t tell me anything. I’m so confused.” I shake my head, hoping to clear the cobwebs of sleep from my muddled brain.

  Lucy takes a deep, steadying breath. “I’m leaving Ole Miss. Transferring to Georgia Tech.”

  “You’re what?” I ask sharply.

  “I know it seems sudden, but I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I need to get out of Mississippi, Jemma. I stayed because…I don’t know, I thought we were all going to be here, and I didn’t want to mess everything up, but…” She trails off, shaking her head. “You’re gone, Ryder’s gone. I should be at Georgia Tech. I can major in aerospace engineering there, which is what I’m really interested in, anyway. And Atlanta…well, I think I’ll fit in better there, you know? Bigger city, more diversity…”

  “You’re going to finish out the year at Ole Miss, though, right?”

  She nods. “Yeah, of course. I’m talking about next fall. It’s just that I need to get my transfer application in as soon as possible. And I thought it was only fair to tell Morgan right away.” She pauses, glancing over at the window, but there’s nothing to see—the heavy curtains are still drawn against the morning sun. “She’s really upset.”

  “I know. She was crying,” I say, and then wish I could take it back. If this is what Lucy wants, she shouldn’t feel guilty. I know from experience—I’d dealt with the guilt myself over leaving my friends, my family behind. But ultimately I’d made the right choice for me, and Lucy should do the same for herself.

  I reach for her hand. “This is what you’ve got to do, then. Morgan will understand. Eventually,” I add. “And she’ll be fine. She’s got her sorority. Now she can move into the house in the fall and not feel bad about leaving you without a roommate, right?”

  “Right, that’s what I told her. I mean, c’mon, Jemma, you know we were probably going to eventually grow apart, anyway. It’s already different. She’s got her sorority sisters and I’ve got mine. Things are never going to be like they were in high school. Still, I feel bad. The two of you are my best friends.”

  I give her hand a squeeze. “But it sounds like you’re making the right decision. And you did the right thing, giving her plenty of notice. It’ll be fine, I promise.”

  “From your lips to God’s ears. I don’t know how you did it, leaving everybody behind. But since you did, I know that I can, too. Thank you for that.”

  “You’re welcome. I guess?”

  Lucy laughs. “Did you know my dad graduated from Georgia Tech?”

  Her dad is a math teacher so it makes sense, now that I think about it. “I knew he went to school in Georgia but I always assumed it was UGA.”

  She shakes her head. “Nope, he’s a Tech guy. Got his master’s there, too. Hopefully that’ll help me get in.”

  I roll my eyes—leave it to Lucy to sell herself short. “I don’t think you’ll need much help—my mom heard from your mom that you made the Chancellor’s Honor Roll first semester. I think you’ve got this.” That was the highest GPA award you could get at Ole Miss, and she did it while taking a heavy load of classes and cheering during football season. I had no doubt they’d take her. They’d be lucky to have her.

  “Hey, you want to go check out some of the vintage stores in Oxford to look at dresses for my sister?”

  “Sure, why not? I could use something new for New Year’s Eve, too. We should call Morgan and see if she wants to come. If she’s speaking to me, that is.”

  “I’ll call her. Just give me fifteen minutes to shower, okay?” I hop out of bed excitedly.

  “Sure. Mind if I open up these drapes?” she calls out as I make my way into the bathroom.

  “No, go ahead,” I call back.

  As soon as I turn on the water, I hear Lucy’s voice again, louder this time. “Jemma!
Your cell is ringing. It’s Morgan—what do I do?” The bathroom door opens a crack and Lucy’s hand pops in, holding out my phone. “Here, take it!”

  I do, even though I’m not yet prepared to smooth it over between them. But I have to—there’s only a couple weeks left of break, and I want to make the most of it, to enjoy what little time I have with my two best friends. All of us, together.

  I answer the phone with a resolved sigh. “Hey, Morgan. Yeah, I heard. Come over and we can talk about it, okay? And then we’re going shopping.”

  Chapter 10

  “Sorry we didn’t find anything for you,” I tell Nan that night as we work side-by-side cleaning up the kitchen after dinner. “There wasn’t much to choose from. At least, nothing that really screamed ‘bridal gown’ to us. Hey, can you wipe that counter by the toaster? I missed a spot.”

  She heads over to the counter in question. “It’s okay. I love your designs, but the vintage thing is really your look, not mine. I actually loved that mermaid-style dress I tried on the day after Christmas. I mean, I know it’s the first dress I tried, so I feel like I have to keep looking. But…it was perfect, wasn’t it? And it wasn’t even that expensive.”

  “It was gorgeous. And you looked amazing in it.”

  She pauses, dishtowel on one hip. “You really think so? I’m just not sure I can pull it off—it’s so fitted.”

  I roll my eyes. “Oh, please. You’re in such good shape, you can pull off anything. Plus, you’re tall, blonde, and gorgeous and you know it.”

  “Oh, shut up. If I knew it, I wouldn’t be worrying so much.”

  “Well, stop worrying. Trust me, you looked amazing in that dress, and in pretty much every dress you tried on. Well, except maybe that foufy ball gown monstrosity at the second shop. You looked like a cupcake in that one. But I’m pretty sure anyone would.”

  “Nah, someone petite could pull it off.” She looks me over from head to toe, as if she’s assessing my foufy ball gown potential. “You could probably pull it off.”