Magnolia and Moonlight

by Iris Abbott

  She stared at the now-familiar conical hat worn by the woodland and garden creatures. “You!” she hissed out in a whisper yell. “You’re the one responsible for the gnomes I’ve found lately.” Maggie flopped back against the wall. It made sense since he was one of the few people at both her duplex and the gig yesterday.

  He grinned from ear to ear. “Looks like I’m not the only one. I saw the fairy you left behind last night.”

  She twisted her lips. “Yeah, guess you could say your gnomes inspired me. They cheered me up and calmed my frazzled nerves when I really needed it. Thought I’d do the same with my grandma’s fairies.”

  He tilted his head. “You don’t want to keep them for yourself? I could tell how much her pearls mean to you, sentimentally.”

  Maggie shrugged. “She had dozens. Savannah, that’s my sister, and I both picked out our favorite fairy to keep after the funeral. We were at a loss as to what to do with the others. The fairies brought our grandma lots of joy, and your gnomes gave me an idea of how we could spread some of that good cheer to others.”

  His eyes sparkled, and Marcus tapped a foot to an easy beat that Maggie could not hear. “Making someone smile, spreading joy to a soul that’s down, that’s why I leave the gnomes in random spots.”

  She shifted in her seat, straightening her spine while at the same time leaning closer to her companion. “Why gnomes instead of painted rocks with motivational sayings?” she wondered out loud. “That seems more your speed than a dumpy, potato-shaped dwarf with a big hat.”

  Marcus propped his chin on steepled fingers and stared at her for several long, drawn-out seconds. At first, Maggie did not think he was going to answer. She gave a frustrated shake of her head and broke eye contact. She bit back a disappointed sigh and took another sip of the mocha she had almost forgotten about.

  He picked up his own mug and took several big gulps of coffee. “Gnomes made my childhood bearable,” he finally admitted in a hoarse whisper.

  Her eyes widened at the confession. Maggie did not dare interrupt. She held her breath and waited to see if he would continue. She wanted to know more.

  Marcus sat aside the coffee, took a bite of his brownie, closed his eyes, and swallowed. Maggie froze, hoping he would keep talking. He cleared his throat and captured her gaze. She blinked but could not look away.

  “I was diagnosed with leukemia when I was seven.”

  “Oh! My! God!” Maggie slapped a hand across her mouth almost as soon as she blurted out the exclamation. “Sorry,” she muttered, hoping he did not stop talking. She just did not want to hear more now, she needed to hear more.

  He nodded, accepting the apology. “I spent most of my elementary school years in and out of the hospital. I was weak and sickly most of the time, and at one point, lost most of my hair. The emotional and financial burden weighed on my parents enough that my dad split two years after my original diagnosis.”

  Maggie wrinkled her nose. She did not consider herself a violent person, but if she ever met his dad, Maggie would be hard-pressed not to kick him where it would hurt the most. “Jerk,” she finally muttered under her breath.

  Marcus shrugged. “He did what he had to do. Childhood illness, especially cancer, is hard on families.”

  Maggie was not fooled by his nonchalant attitude. She saw the pain in his eyes. The excuse sounded lame to her ears, but who was she to argue. It was not her family, and it hadn’t happened to her. If he made peace with the memory of his father, good for him.

  “Why gnomes? How did that happen?”

  “My pediatric oncologist was short, tubby, and cheery. He said he could relate to gnomes and wore gnome pins on his white coat. He also left gnomes all over the pediatric unit. He seemed to always know when a patient was feeling their worse and would gift them with their own gnome. Most of the laughter and smiles from my childhood are related to Dr. Norman and gnomes.”

  Maggie’s eyes watered. She rapidly blinked, and a few tears fell.

  Marcus gently cupped her face with one hand and wiped away the salty water with the other. “No need for tears. Gnomes spread joy, not sadness,” he reminded her. “Anyway, as a tribute to Dr. Norman, I pay forward his good cheer by leaving gnomes here and there.”

  The tears dried up, and she smiled. “That’s amazing. How many gnomes have you left for people to find?”

  His hands fell from her face. He shrugged his shoulders. “Hundreds, I’ve been doing it since I joined the service at eighteen.” He puffed out his chest. “I’ve left gnomes in cities all over the world and in forty-eight states.”

  He didn’t seem so cocky anymore. Now that she had gotten a glimpse into the man, Maggie wanted to know more. She smoothly shifted the conversation from gnomes to his service to the country.

  “Military, huh? Explains your excellent physical condition.” Her eyes widened, and heat flushed her face.

  Marcus flexed his arm muscles and grinned. “Lavish me with as many compliments as you want. I worked hard for these guns.”

  “Makes you a perfect fit for Barrett Security, that’s for sure.”

  “A natural fit,” he agreed. “A job that requires me to stay in shape, allows me to play with all kinds of big boy toys, and gives my protective instincts a workout. Couldn’t ask for anything better.”

  Her curiosity was piqued. “Protective instincts?”

  “Remember, I mentioned weak and sickly?”

  Maggie nodded. She pictured a small, skinny, knobby-kneed kid with messy black hair and indigo eyes too big and bright for his little boy's face. Protective instincts of her own rose to the surface.

  “Even after I went into remission, it took months for me to catch up to my peers in terms of strength and stamina. I got pushed around a lot during the middle school years.”

  Maggie’s mouth slackened, and she stared at him with an unfocused gaze. “Are you kidding? You were bullied?” Disbelief turned to indignation. Her body tensed, and Maggie ground her teeth together.

  “Yup, and can’t stand a bully to this day,” he growled out. “Unfortunately, harassment tendencies aren’t restricted to ill-mannered children.” He laced his fingers together and stretched out his arms, cracking a few knuckles. “Nothing I love more than shutting down a tormenter who ought to know better. In fact, I live for it.”

  ****

  “You’re making it hard for me not to like you,” she insisted with a shake of her head.

  He grinned and rubbed his hands together. “That’s the point! We’re getting somewhere!”

  “Maybe,” she conceded with a slight but adorable pout that made him want to kiss her even more than he already did.

  She leaned toward him when he spoke, seemed to hang on his every word. Her pupils dilated when he got close, and she even touched him a couple of times when contact was not necessary. “The attraction is mutual. I know it is! What’s holding you back?”

  Maggie leaned forward with her elbows on her knees. She propped her trembling chin on her fists. He tried to look into her eyes, but she refused to make eye contact with him. He bit back a frustrated sigh, not wanting to upset her.

  “Fair is fair,” she told him in a monotone voice so unlike the usual melodious tone Marcus had become familiar with. “You told me about the gnomes. I should return the favor.”

  He winced. A chill snaked its way down his spine. His clenched gut warned Marcus that he was not going to like what Maggie had to say.

  “You’re cocky and sexy, not a winning combination in my book.”

  He grinned at the backhanded compliment but was wise enough to keep his mouth shut.

  “Before I transferred to Bama and started playing with Rose, I was in another band.”

  “No surprise, you’re talented and beautiful, and that is a winning combination in my book.” He tossed back her words, hoping to get a smile. It worked.

  The smile slipped away, and Maggie took a deep breath. “Anyway,” she continued, “I started dating the lead singer of my previou
s band.”

  “Let me guess, cocky and sexy,” Marcus supplied.

  “Bingo! Things were great at first, but after the first month, he started to disappear after our gigs for large chunks of time. Eventually, I caught him cheating with not one but two groupies.” A look of disgust crossed her face. “In a supply closet at one of the clubs, no less.”

  Marcus wrinkled his nose in distaste but refrained from comment. Her voice trembled, and he did not want to give her a reason to stop. His gut told him she had barely scratched the surface.

  “My ex, he started popping pills, which I do not condone,” she stiffly replied. “His behavior became more erratic over time. I tried to break it off, but he ignored my concerns, pretended like nothing was wrong.” She shuddered. “It’s not like I could completely ignore him because we worked together.”

  Maggie’s voice was hoarse. She stopped talking and sipped on her drink for a couple of minutes. Sensing she needed the time to collect herself and gather her thoughts, Marcus reached out to grasp her free hand. He threaded their fingers together and gave her a comforting squeeze, but he did not break the silence.

  After a long minute, she set aside the cup, closed her eyes, and leaned her head back against the window. “Gigs became sparse. I needed the money for tuition and living expenses. Most of all, I had to get away from Caleb.”

  The hand he held began to shake. Marcus squeezed it harder but was careful not to hurt her. He held his breath, waiting for her to finish.

  “Rose and I clicked from the beginning. Starting a band with her was the fresh start I needed both personally and professionally. My ex-boyfriend, though, he wasn’t too thrilled with my decision.”

  His blood chilled at the haunted sound of Maggie’s voice. Her eyes were still squeezed tightly shut. Marcus knew she was reliving something that plagued her. He sat up straighter, inched closer to Maggie, and braced himself for the words to come.

  “I went to our last scheduled gig. Thought it was the right thing to do. Afterward, I told the band as a group that they had to find a replacement because I was done. I felt better than I had in months like a thousand-pound weight was lifted from my shoulders.” A broken sigh slipped past her lips.

  Her eyes popped open. Maggie sat up straight, her back stiff as a board. She yanked her hand from his and vigorously rubbed her arms as if chilled.

  “Caleb followed me to my car in the parking lot behind the club. When he found I could no longer be swayed by his pretty words, he punched me in the face. Split my lip and gave me a black eye, but that was the least of my worries.”

  Marcus’s vision narrowed. A strange noise pounded in his ears. His arms and legs shook with the force of his anger. A guttural roar filled his head, but he exerted his iron self-control and remained silent.

  Maggie glanced at him as if she felt the battle raging inside him. She raised a hand toward his face but dropped it almost immediately.

  “What else?” he growled out in a thick voice.

  She gave him a blank stare. At least she did not flinch or shy away from him.

  He gritted his teeth and made a solid effort to temper his tone. “What else did you have to worry about?” He clenched his hands into fists and waited.

  She opened her mouth and closed it a few seconds later. Maggie vigorously rubbed her face. “I lost my balance when he punched me and hit the asphalt pretty hard. Caleb didn’t hesitate to kick a woman when she was down.” She rubbed her sides.

  “Broke two ribs and bruised the rest of them. I managed to fold myself into the fetal position to ward off some of his blows. The pain kinda faded, went numb, so I rolled under a nearby SUV to get out of his reach.”

  “I tried to press charges, but Caleb’s parents’ knew people, had contacts, you know.” She lifted her arms and used two fingers per hand to draw quotation marks in the air. “And I quote, ‘it was my word against his.’ Therefore, nothing happened.” Maggie tilted her head and stared him straight in the eyes.

  “Needless to say, I have trust issues with men in general but especially strong men. Your muscles are probably a turn-on for most women, but they’re a deterrent to me.”

  Finally, Marcus understood why she seemed to dislike him when he had given her no cause to do so. If he ever crossed paths with that son of a bitch ex-boyfriend of hers, there was going to be a smackdown. His priority was Maggie. He needed to prove to her that not all men were like her ex. Sure, he could brawl with the best of them, but he only used his muscles for self-defense or the protection of others.

  He needed to show Maggie he was on her side. Marcus also wanted to spend more time with her, and he did not want her to be wary or uncomfortable around him. He rubbed his chin. “You ever taken any self-defense classes?”

  Maggie blew out a puff of air. “No. I thought about it, but classes usually aren’t cheap, and I figured I’d have to stick with it for a while for it to even make any kind of difference. Luckily, Caleb didn’t bother me after the first incident.”

  “Not necessarily,” he told her. “Martial arts saved my childhood. My mom enrolled me in Karate halfway through the seventh grade. A year later, the bullies knew to stay clear of me, and I had a constructive outlet for the frustrations of life. It still works.”

  Maggie smiled. “Think I’m a little too old to start with Karate now.”

  “You’d be surprised,” he responded, “but I was thinking more along the lines of self-defense class. It will give you confidence when dealing with sexy, cocky men,” he winked. “And the skills might save your life one day.”

  She pursed her lips. “Maybe I should check into a few classes, Lily and Holly too.” She gave him a worried look. “Just in case whoever was in the duplex comes back while someone’s home.”

  He gave her a thumbs up. “Smart idea,” he said in the way of encouragement. “Barrett Security is donating time to a local community center to build goodwill with the public,” he eagerly explained. “Josh and I are teaching self-defense classes to women every Tuesday and Thursday evenings. Rose is already signed up.”

  Maggie clapped her hands together. “Sounds perfect. Got room for three more?”

  “The class is full.”

  Her shoulders slumped. She sagged against the window. “Figures.”

  “Luckily, you and your friends have an in with the instructors and Barrett Security,” he smirked. “Three more won’t make much of a difference. Some of the exercises require a partner. You, Rose, Lily, and Holly can pair off between the four of you.”

  She threw her arms around his neck. “Sounds wonderful! Thank you!”

  He glanced at his watch. “Hate to cut our date short, but I’ve got to head to work shortly.”

  Maggie’s eyes widened. “Oh! We should go then!”

  She did not protest his use of the word date. He smiled and held up a hand. “I’ve got a few minutes. Let’s finish our brownies first,” he suggested. “They’re too good to waste.”

  “You got that right.” She grinned at him.

  Marcus took a big bite out of the dessert and watched her pouty lips close over her brownie. His gut clenched, and he wished they were tasting each other instead. She glanced up and caught him staring at her. She quickly looked down at her lap and dabbed at her mouth with a napkin.

  “What?” Maggie finally asked after several long seconds. “Did I smear chocolate all over my face?”

  “That’s not it. You’re too beautiful for me not to stare,” he insisted.

  “Right,” she scoffed. “Haven’t you played bodyguard to several Hollywood actresses working in Georgia the last couple of years?”

  “So?” He shrugged his shoulders. “Basically, their beauty was skin deep at best, and most of that was artificial. I prefer natural loveliness, and you’ve got that in spades, Magnolia Rains.”

  Her eyes gleamed. She shared a playful grin with him. “If you say so, then who am I to argue?”

  Warmth spread throughout his body. He puffed out his chest. Maggie s
eemed much more relaxed with him than she ever had. He was making progress, and he felt like he was on top of the world.

  SIX

  Maggie supplemented her gig income with private violin, guitar, and piano lessons. She had a deal with three local music stores. She worked by appointment only and used store space and their pianos for the sessions. She was on her way out the door with her violin tucked under her arm when a splash of bright red by the door caught her eye.

  She recognized a gnome sitting off to the side of the walkway. Maggie smiled, knowing it had to have been left by Marcus. She leaned down to get a closer look. The gnome wore a Hawaiian shirt and leaned against a surfboard that was partially buried in the sand.

  Her smile widened enough that she felt the stretch in her cheek muscles. Maggie loved the beach. The gnome reminded her that she needed to kick back and relax in the sand soon. She noticed a small envelope propped against the back of the statue.

  Maggie picked it up and noted that her name was scrawled on the outside in bold, masculine strokes. She bounced on her toes and eagerly ripped open the envelope. Her eyes scanned the invitation. Warmth spread throughout her chest from the thoughtful gesture.

  Marcus invited her to dinner at a restaurant in a nearby beach known for its romantic atmosphere. She hugged the invitation to her breasts. It was more than morning coffee, definitely a date. Before she could change her mind, Maggie pulled her phone from her purse and dialed the number he left on the invite.

  “Easton,” his gruff voice answered halfway through the second ring.

  She twirled several strands of hair around a finger from her free hand. “Hey, it’s Maggie. How’re you doing?”

  “Hey,” he replied. “Doing great now that I’ve heard from you.” The husky note in his voice sent pleasurable tingles up and down her spine.

  Her cheeks heated. “Um, so about dinner on Wednesday, I’d love to.”

  “Pick you up at seven?”