She wiggled free from my embrace. I let her go, curious what she would do next. This girl that I knew, yet didn't know at all. She took my hand; her tiny hand slipped into mine and tugged. I followed her to the couch. Sitting in the center, poised as always, she tugged again to urge me to sit.
“Where's your mama?”
I did not want to talk about her mama. I opened my mouth, and that question fell out. There it sat, awkward as hell, between us. I focused on her amused smile.
“Work.”
I nodded. I wasn't aware she worked nights. I didn't want to know more, so I didn't ask. Maggie didn't offer up any other information.
Promises made in moments of passion, in the stuttered calm that follows, become bigger. They grow with each passing second. With every minute that passed into normal, sitting on a couch and making small talk, what we'd said and done loomed larger and larger. The proverbial elephant in the room.
“What are you doing tomorrow?”
“I don't know.” Her shoulders moved in a characteristic shrug as she answered. “I mean, I had plans, but ... I'll probably just stay home and do stuff around here. It's my turn to do the grocery shopping anyway. Maybe it will be a good day to run errands since everyone else will be at the Slip'n Slide thing in the park.”
It was a trickle or a flood. She either said one word and left me guessing, or she dumped information at me. It was cute, and I was pathetic for thinking it was cute. She eyed my lips when I smiled at her. It was heady to have so much power, to know that if I smiled she was clued in and aware, that she would look to me and remember my mouth on hers.
I'd convince her to go to the Slip'n Slide event, if for no other reason than because it would be a way for her to make a stand. She had admitted before, during dinner at my house, that her reasons for not attending were wrapped up in her mama not wanting her to go. I didn't want to push her. But I thought Dom had mentioned her going with him, Beau, and Elliot.
“What's the deal with you and Dominic?”
Damn it. I wasn't going to ask that either. I had lost control of the path between my brain and my tongue. Maggie moved back and away, tucking herself into the corner of the couch, and her eyebrows moved too close together.
“There's no deal. We're friends.”
I knew she was being honest with me. Because I knew her well enough to know she would always be honest with me. Also because I knew from Dom's side that he wasn't into her. He adored her, and had devoted himself to her with puppy like infatuation. It was platonic. I knew the way it was for them, but knowing it didn't help. The fact of Dominic and Maggie rankled.
“It's ... unexpected.”
“Right?” She bounced a little in her seat, happy and excited. Her evident happiness made me chill out on the jealousy front. “I've known him since absolutely forever, and we were never friends. Not even close. Now he's ...”
She paused, and I waited her out. Her brows knit together again.
“He's what?” I prompted her to continue and kept a casual tone, not betraying the way I wanted to scream. I had thoughts on what might happen if my brother hurt my girl. It was messed up and my loyalties were shifted away from my family, which in itself was weird for me, but then I had always put Maggie first.
“It's just he's become important to me in no time. It doesn't make sense.” Her face was still pinched, and if I was reading her right, sad. But her words were happier than not.
“I thought you were going to the Slip'n Slide thing with him tomorrow.”
“What?” There was an edge of panic to her voice, one she tried to keep subdued. “No. I mean, we talked about meeting up. I was thinking about going, but now I ... I don't think so.”
I got the feeling she was keeping something from me. Whatever reason she had for bailing, she didn't want to fess up. She didn't want to lie either. I hated putting her in a hard spot. The longer we sat there, the more I wanted to know.
The question on my tongue was to ask what she wasn't telling me.
“Okay.” I swallowed my worries and put faith in trusting her. I found we weren't to a point of mutual trust yet, and it required a leap of faith. “What about after? Don't you usually go down to the bonfire with the Hunters?”
“Yes?”
“Maggie. Why are you being weird about tomorrow? I would like it if you'd go with me, at least to the bonfire.”
She chewed her lips again. I missed her dimples when she wasn't smiling. A thought struck me, and stoked the dying flames of anger back to life.
“Is it me? Don't want to parade about town with me?” I attempted to keep my voice level, to phrase my words as a joke.
“No.” She moved closer to me. I liked that she did that, when she wanted to assure me, she got as close to me as she could. “No. It's not that at all. I just ...”
I watched her throat move as she swallowed. Her normally soft warm brown eyes were tight with caution. She was scared to tell me whatever it was, likely afraid of my reaction. What would be so bad that she wouldn't want to say it to me?
“You said you'd had plans. Then you backtracked.” The truth dawned on me, all at once, in a wave of heated jealousy. “Tell me.”
“I did have plans. I mean, technically I still do have plans. I haven't had the chance to cancel them. Yet.”
“With Vincent?” How I kept myself seated, voice low, I will never know.
She nodded. I couldn't be angry about this; I had no right. She had made plans with him before I had shown up tonight, before I'd demanded she be mine and told her I didn't know how to share. It was hard enough for me to come to terms with her friendship with Dominic. It was impossible for me to consider her plans with this other guy.
“I see.” It was a non-answer to buy me more time.
“Are you mad at me?” She sat on her hands, keeping them off me, the opposite of what I wished she would do. Her worry was palpable. It was about more than me being mad at her; it spoke of a history of worrying about upsetting people. Her chronic need to never rock the boat.
“No, Maggie. No, I'm not mad at you.” How could I be? “I do want you to cancel those plans.”
“Of course.” She nodded again. Her face was still too white, holding onto lingering anxiety. I tugged her hands free from their trap beneath her thighs and held them in mine. She softened at my touch.
“Do it now. Tell him you can't see him again.”
“Right now? It's really late. Or really early.”
“Right now.” I needed him to know. I was a jealous prick, and if she couldn't manage to break things off with Vincent, I would have to find him and tell him myself. That couldn't end well.
She pulled free from my grasp and found her cell phone. I watched her quickly type a message, fingers light across the glass screen, to break things off with Vincent at a completely inappropriate time.
“Now that's settled, come with me tomorrow.” I didn't ask, because it wasn't a question. She put her phone behind her back. I reclaimed her hands.
“Okay, Cotton.” Her smile was small. A small victory I would try for again and again.
I could tell she was conflicted. It would be like her to worry about hurting his feelings by showing up with another guy after abruptly cancelling on him. As far as I knew they'd gone out once, and it wasn't serious. She didn't know it, but her showing up with me would cause drama because of her pretend thing with Dominic. We'd be a sight, all there at the same time. I would be sure to clear up perceptions and make it unmistakable she was mine.
“Good.” I kissed her forehead and shifted her closer to me. “I'll pick you up at eleven.”
“I'll pack our lunch.” It was tradition to picnic for lunch, then later buy from the food trucks for dinner.
“What are you doing Sunday?”
“Something with you?”
Damn, her shy voice, and her attempt at sweet flirtation, reached right in and squeezed my heart.
“Of course. We could hike to Raven Falls.”
“Can
we run away and live there forever. It's my favorite spot.” Her confession was in a rush. I knew she loved the spot; it's why I suggested that hike.
I nodded and watched her face light up. I found I loved making her smile. Her happiness made me happy. I was physically lighter, my heart less encumbered, when Maggie turned her smile my way. Truth was we didn't know one another well. What I knew I had gathered by observation. I was good at watching and learning, good at seeing people. It was part of what made me a good photographer. I had a keen eye, and the ability to pick up on undercurrents.
“Maybe we ought to hold off on living there until we can find the right place.” I winked, and she let out a breathy soft giggle.
“What were you doing tonight? Dominic didn't interrupt anything, did he?” She was soft beside me, sleepy eyes on me as she asked after my night.
“No. I was at home.”
Maggie alternately looked me in the eye, her face morphing into disbelieving happiness like she was lucky and I was the source of her joy, then ducking her head and peeking at me like she could possibly hide from me. I studied her openly, and it was when I looked at her with a steady gaze and held it that she tipped her head down. She didn't like my continued appraisal. I had no intention of stopping. I'd rather she get used to it and like it.
“Should I go? It's getting late.”
“Not yet.” She shrugged and took her hand back. She fiddled with her hair and I wondered what she was thinking.
“Hey?” I softened my eager eyes as much as I could when she lifted her face to me. “I know we started this all wrong. We can go slower.”
“I don't want slow.” I leaned in to catch her words. Her habit of barely there voice was somehow both endearing and frustrating. “I want ... to kiss you again.”
“Do you now?”
My ability to give her a throw away phrase and keep things light was to be marveled at. My blood ran too fast and too hot in my body. Sitting beside Maggie, hearing her whisper to me that she wanted me to kiss her, it tested my restraint. I was determined to go slow. Our progression had to be perfect for her. I wouldn't rush her, i.e. maul her as soon as I touched her. Practiced control was something I had perfected over the years. Initially to keep my temper in check. Then to stay away from Maggie. Now I would employ it to only touch her with the tenderness she deserved.
Chapter Twenty-One
Magnolia
I didn't know what was happening in my own head. I was either editing my words, trying desperately not to be awkward and crazy. Or I was drowning poor Cotton in a deluge of words. He sat there on my mama's sofa, too tall with legs too long, handsome in a casual rumpled way that came in the middle of the night. I stared at him until it occurred to me to be embarrassed by doing such a thing. But when I would finally pull my eyes away, Cotton would do something to encourage me to look at him again.
“I want ... to kiss you.”
Those words actually came out of my mouth. My lips, craving his, my tongue restless to tangle with his, propelled my mouth into voicing what I wanted. Cotton wasn't averse. He wasted no time scooping me up from where I sat and moving me to his lap. I was more comfortable this time, with my legs both to one side and hanging free. I snuggled my body into his chest. No one was warm as him, and his heat fanned the flame building inside me. I tipped my head to look into his fire and ice blue eyes, and he captured my mouth with his. My eyelids drifted closed as I let myself free fall into kissing him. His lips were full and soft while the kiss escalated, and I tasted his hunger for me. It made no sense the way I kissed him back, eager to slip my tongue into his mouth, and nipping at his lips. I craved him in a way that shot zings through my body. All at once I was melting and lighting on fire. I was giving in and falling apart, letting him take lead. I was taking charge and twisting my body to better line up with his while lifting his shirt so that my hands had access to his skin. As my fingers raced across his bare stomach, he groaned into my mouth. There was a rhythm of give and take, or surrender and capture. I wanted to eat him; that thought actually crossed my mind.
Cotton worked a bit of magic maneuvering - he lifted me, shifted, and we were lying on the cramped sofa with him overtop me. He held his body just off mine. Close enough I felt the expansion of his ribcage with each breath he took, I felt the hammering of his heart against mine, I felt the hard length of him that pressed onto me and told me of his desire.
I laid my head back and sucked in air. Not missing a beat, Cotton moved his mouth along my jaw and down my neck. I took the opportunity to look at him, to see his handsome face as he put his mouth all over me. Mostly I could see his glorious hair, each strand a different color and still somehow all red. I ran my fingers through his hair, thick and glossy. My own was thick and wavy tending toward coarse and frizzy. I forgot about his hair when his hand slipped beneath the fabric of my top. I had already pulled his t-shirt up his chest to run my hands along his skin, to skim my fingers over his muscles, to feel him right there in reach. He took his turn, strong calloused fingertips caressing my skin, turning me inside out.
Thoughts were lost to me for as long as we lay together exploring. I would miss his mouth and pull him up to kiss until I was dizzy. I removed his shirt, but he refused to let me take off mine. My hips lifted, straining to be closer to him, to create a delirious friction between our bodies. The worn couch creaked in its strained support of our combined weight. Each time my back arched, Cotton slipped one hand under my back to hold me firmly against him, and he'd let out a sound like a low growl.
“I really should go.”
“Mm hmm.” I snared his mouth again with mine and got drunk on the taste of him.
He held himself in check, not letting things go too far, and moaning in frustration as I tried to press harder upward to get at him.
“Oh, Magnolia.” He let out a long breath and pressed his face into my neck. He stayed there, unmoving, and slowed his breath and heart. My body mimicked his, slowing, coming back down from the ride up and up and up.
As sanity flooded back into my kiss drunk brain, I knew he was right. We should stop. He should go home. Reality, the things I had promised Cotton, facing my decision and the rippling reach of the consequences, stole my thoughts. Clutched me and sobered me fully.
I nodded. He sighed, and his eyelashes fluttered against the sensitive skin of my neck. When he lifted himself off me to standing, I flushed cold. The sounds I had made, and the urgency of my body, were embarrassing after the fact. Cotton's expression said otherwise.
He took my hand and pulled me up from the sofa. I trailed behind him to the door, not ready to say goodbye despite knowing it was time.
“Remind me to thank my meddling brother.”
“He's a no-good liar.” I pressed my lips together and didn't let out a laugh. He saw right through me and nodded at my joking assessment.
“I will see you tomorrow.” He said each word with inflection, each one separate and given importance. He seemed to be seeking reassurance.
“Yes.” My hand was still in his.
“Good night, Sweet Maggie.”
Cotton kissed my forehead, in a move so gentle it was filled with more sentiment than all our previous making out. He gave away a depth of feeling in that move, the way he carefully held me and tenderly placed his lips to my head. I didn't come to my senses enough to respond until he had closed the front door. When I checked, I found it locked - Cotton always looking out for me. My lips were swollen and touch sore. My body was all exposed nerve endings, missing Cotton's touch and utterly too sensitive.
It wasn't until I was in bed, drifting to sleep, that I let myself imagine what it would be like when he showed up the next day to take me out and I introduced him to my mama as more than a friend. I wasn't sure what words I could use yet, which were the right ones for what we were to each other. I knew only that my mama would never approve of my being with Cotton. On top of that, going to a popular town event with him would send her right over the edge. I braced myself fo
r an all-out tantrum on her part, and knew that it would involve pulling puppet strings still firmly attached to me. I slept poorly. Guilt at breaking things off with Vincent last minute, at an indecent hour, and then going out with a different guy immediately, was consuming in the way nausea refused to be ignored. Knowing that I would be put in an impossible place between Cotton and my mama wound tightly around me; I would have to choose between hurting one of them. Premature guilt wrapped me in a strait jacket while I wrestled with fleeting minutes of sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Cotton
I wanted to ride the high for the few remaining hours until the sun rose, until I could go back to Maggie. There was nothing I wanted more than to relive the past few hours on repeat, zooming in on when she said, as long as you're mine too.
Mine.
It was a heady word, thick and full, with the ability to block out all reason.
The chance to drown in the sweet victory of claiming Maggie didn't come.
Dominic wanted to know what happened, with details, threatening to drive right back over to her house and get it from her if I didn't spill. I saw the fight in his eyes. The readiness to take me out if I had hurt her.
“You set me up, brother.” I focused on the detail that allowed me to be pissed off at him, not that I rallied much in the way of anger. Also the detail that would in turn remind him he sent me over there in the first place, which led me to believe he didn't think I would in fact hurt her.
“Damn straight, I did. You two idiots couldn't get it together.”
“It was risky. Don't pull shit like that again.”
“Whatever, man. Just tell me what happened.”
Knowing I wouldn't divulge times of our intimacy with him, that I wouldn't speak to him of her promises to me, I sifted through what was left to disclose.
“Against all logic, she wants to be with me.”
“I told you!”
I simply gave him a nod. When I turned to head up the stairs to my bedroom, he called me back.
The Guilt of a Sparrow Page 18