“I messed up.”
“You’re going to have to grovel.” Skylar stands tall, her face lighting up. “You can fix this. You just have to grovel.”
“I don’t grovel.”
“You don’t have a choice. You have to do it, Magnolia. If you love him, you should do everything you can to get him back.”
“I don’t even know what I’d do or say.”
“You’ll figure it out. If you want him badly enough, if you want to fix this, you’ll find a way.”
Chapter 14
XAVIER FOX
“This price is all wrong for this condo. You’re never going to sell it at this price. Drop it at least two-fifty. You’ll sell it in two weeks. Guaranteed.” Hershel Goldstein wags his finger in my face. He’s the last broker to shuffle into my Saturday morning broker’s open.
“I appreciate the advice.” I pat him on the back, giving him a good squeeze. His shoulders are tight, like he holds too much energy in his upper half. It’s the sign of a man who thinks too much. I should know. Hershel needs to get laid, but judging by the high-water pants and the oversized, nineties glasses he still wears, getting laid is the least of his priorities. “I’ll revisit my comps when I get back to the office.”
I say what I have to say to silence him. I know my comps. I know my price is right, and my clients won’t go a cent below asking. I’m not new to this game. Still, I can’t help but wonder what Magnolia would think about the price. She was always better at numbers. She did the pricing and negotiating. I did the selling.
“Very well.” He shoves his glasses up his nose and heads for the door. I grab my things from the kitchen peninsula and start flipping lights off.
Before I hit the last light, the door flings open. I don’t look up. “We wrapped up about five minutes ago.”
They don’t answer.
I glance up, my heart catching in my throat. “This broker’s open was invite-only.”
Magnolia slinks her shoulder to her ear, offering a timid smile. It’s not like her to play coy. This must be Apologetic Magnolia. I don’t recognize her because I’ve never seen her before. There was never any need. When we were friends, she never lied to or hurt or misled me. She was good to me.
But I’m still livid.
“What are you doing here?” I set my things on the counter, folding my arms. My suit jacket constricts, pulling tight against my back. She’s dressed up for a Saturday morning. Black leather leggings. Lacy blouse. Curled hair. Glossed lips. Fuck-me heels.
“Apologizing.” She steps closer to me, closing the door. “You’re not the monster I made you out to be. I was wrong. I should’ve come to you. I shouldn’t have assumed. I was so obsessed with getting hurt, that taking what you said at face value was the only thing that made sense to me.”
I study her, wanting to keep my distance yet wanting to hold her at the same time.
“Look, you know I’m not good with words,” she says. “I’ve never been persuasive like you.” She sighs, her fingers toying. “Let me put it this way: eight hundred fifty-four days. Two Christmases. Two New Year’s Eves. Two New Year’s Day hangovers. Hundreds of celebrated sales. Dozens of missed vacations. Zero pictures . . .”
I fight a wistful smirk. Magnolia was always numbers-oriented. Anytime I wanted to win an argument with her, all I had to do was paint a logical picture she’d understand.
“I get it.” I inch toward her. “You missed the hell out of me.”
Her head hangs. “I did.”
Her voice is an insecure whisper, ill-fitting on a woman like her. Magnolia’s shoulders shrink as I come closer. If this is her kowtowing, she’s doing a damn fine job.
“You want to try this again?” I reach for her, pulling her into me. Cupping her chin in my hand, I lift her eyes to meet mine. Our lips hold, inches apart. Her heat melts into me, and her scent drags slowly into my lungs. “Clean slate? Fresh start?”
Magnolia bites her lower lip, fighting a relieved smirk. She exhales. “I do. I think we owe it to ourselves, you know?”
I pull her mouth to mine, grazing my lips across hers and breathing her in before crushing that perfect pout with a hungry kiss. My hands find her hair, locking her against me. She moans into my mouth. Maybe it’s a whimper. A sign of reprieve. Forgiveness.
Sweet surrender.
My lips leave hers. I could kiss her for hours and still need more.
“My clients are coming home soon.” My hands drag down her arms, not wanting to let her go just yet.
She nods, running her fingertips across her swollen lips. She looks good like this. Messy hair. Puffy lips. A bewildered look in her sparkling chocolate eyes.
“What are you doing the rest of the day?” I gather my things off the peninsula and flip the last switch before showing her out.
“I left my schedule pretty open.” The corner of her mouth pulls up.
“Oh, you did? Because you were so certain your little speech would work?”
“Of course.” Her lips spread wide. It’s been a long time since a woman’s smile could make my entire body numb and electric all at once. I’d almost forgotten what it felt like.
“So sure of yourself.” I slip my arm around her waist and amble next to her, down the hall and toward the elevator. “I’ve always admired that about you.”
We board the elevator and reach for the door close button at the same time. I back her into the corner and lower my mouth to hers, stealing another kiss because one wasn’t enough. She’s been back in my life for a whole five minutes, and I’m already addicted.
The elevator comes to a gentle stop, the doors parting to let an elderly couple on board.
“Hello.” Magnolia offers them a friendly wave. They look at us with straight faces and nod.
Seconds later, we’re safely deposited on the main floor, heading through the bustling lobby toward the street. When we reach the sidewalk, we’re holding hands. I’m not sure how or when it happened, but I’m not about to let go of her. I pull her toward me, turning to head down Park Avenue.
“Where are you taking me?”
“To my place.”
“What are we doing?” She steps faster, catching up with me. My hand grips tight around hers, refusing to let go. The rest of the world can walk around us.
“I’m spending the rest of the day with you. We’re going to hang out. Watch movies. Order takeout. Talk about work. Talk about life.” I pull her into me as we walk. “We’re pressing the reset button. It starts now. We pissed away two years, Magnolia. I’m not losing another day with you.”
Chapter 15
MAGNOLIA GRANTHAM
I step inside the Van Cleef’s Montauk home and kick off my shoes, Xavier in tow. “I feel bad, but Skylar insisted.”
“Look who’s here!” Skylar trots around the corner, Theo not far behind her. She runs up to me, throwing her arms around me like she didn’t just see me at work yesterday. “I’m so glad you guys came.”
“I think you’re crazy for wanting to share your Hamptons weekend with us, but—”
“The more the merrier,” Theo says, taking our bags from Xavier. “We’ll put you two upstairs, if that’s okay.”
“Absolutely.” Xavier slips his arm around my waist.
“I’ve got dinner started.” Skylar skips back to the kitchen, her voice growing louder with each step that leads her farther away. “Theo brought Cards Against Humanity. I’m kind of feeling a good old-fashioned game of Bullshit.”
“The night is young,” I call back.
Xavier and I trek upstairs to check out our room, and I stop when I get to the door that held me up last weekend when I could hardly stand. Almost a week ago, I stood right here, listening to Xavier tell me I was the only girl he ever loved and the only one he still loved.
“You okay?” He rubs my back.
I nod, dragging in a cleansing breath. My heart fills, grateful for every difficult moment that led us right here to this spot. Every fiber in my body knows
we’re right where we’re supposed to be.
The room looks just the way it did when I left last Monday. Theo and Skylar graciously offered to share their weekend with us, and normally, I wouldn’t encroach, but we owed it to ourselves to make up for last weekend.
To replace the bad with the good.
To bid our former selves adieu and figure things out together.
Xavier drags my hair from my neck, slinking it over my shoulder. I turn toward him. We took the last Jitney here. The sun went down long ago. A dusky light fills the room. He leans down, pressing his lips into my neck. My nipples wake, and my breath suspends.
I want him. I want this surrender.
His mouth finds mine, the room growing darker by the second. He tastes of peppermint and all that is right in my little world. An invisible thread connects us, and I’m positive our hearts beat in tandem.
My hand presses his chest. “They’re waiting for us downstairs.”
He takes a biting kiss. “They can keep waiting.”
“Xavier.” I say his name with one giant sigh, standing on my toes to help myself to another kiss.
His hands lift the hem of my shirt, my skin prickling under the grazing of his fingertips along my bare stomach. Our tongues tangle and weave. I fully accept that I belong to Xavier Fox and that I always did.
Xavier’s hips push into mine, and the outline of his hardness sends a flutter to my core. We walk backward until we find the edge of the bed in the darkness. He lays me down, gently tugging his belt until he frees himself. Climbing over me, he tugs my skirt up until it rests around my hips, and with one yank, my panties are gone.
His fingers trail down my inner thighs, veering toward my burning center as I shudder. He runs a fingertip along my seam before slipping it inside. I’m liquid, and it’s all for him. One finger glides in and out, gentle and steady, until he adds another. But it’s not enough. I want him.
Minutes later, Xavier produces a foil packet, tearing it with his teeth and sheathing himself before pressing my thighs apart and placing the head of his veined cock at my entrance. The room is pure darkness, tranquil and quiet save for our breathing. What little light trickles in from the window catches the glint in his beautiful blue stare. He focuses on me, gripping his engorged erection and pushing it inside me inch by inch.
I gasp when he’s completely inside, my legs tensing and relaxing as his weight anchors me to the bed. He lowers his mouth to mine, tasting my kiss and pushing himself deeper.
My fingers find his dark hair, grabbing small fistfuls and running the softness under my palm.
“I love you, Magnolia.” His body lifts from mine, yet we’re still connected. The thrusting stops. It’s just us and four of the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard. This time is even better than the first. “You’re mine. You’re the only one for me.”
My heart is so full, it wants to burst.
“You don’t have to say it back.” His words break my heart a little. It’s not that I don’t feel the same. Those words have never been easy for me to say. “I just wanted you to know.”
I inhale, closing my eyes. I can do this. I said it to him once before. I can say it again. It’s not a big deal. People say it all the time. Every day.
He chuckles. “You’re trying to talk yourself into it.”
My jaw slacks. How’d he know? “No, I’m not.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
His hips circle, and he reaches down to grip my ass, bringing me closer and deeper with each new thrust. The friction intensifies, the build-up coming like the soft rumble of thunder from a distant storm.
He groans. He’s getting closer. I can tell by the way his jaw clenches. He steals another kiss before his arms slink under my back and his hands tangle in my hair again. My hips buck back against his, faster, harder, needier.
Hard thrusts shift the bed. I’m not sure if they can hear us downstairs, but I’m not in a place of caring right now. My nails dig deep into his back, his shirt separating us. I wish we were naked. I want to feel all of him against all of me all over again. We deserve a proper reprise.
I tug my bottom lip between my teeth, my neck stiffening as I ride the wave. It rains over me, washing away my doubt and fear like an orgasm made of pure magic.
Xavier collapses on top of me, hot and breathless.
“I love you, Xavier Fox.”
Chapter 16
MAGNOLIA GRANTHAM
Six months later . . .
“I’m ditching my low carb diet for you.” Gwyneth Waterford shoves a forkful of champagne cake into her mouth, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. “Oh, my God.”
“You’re welcome?” I chuckle.
Chip Thomas hands me a plate with an obnoxiously large chunk on it with the words “Good” sprawled across it in purple icing.
“I got ‘luck.’” Skylar lifts her plate, tilting her head. She’s been trying not to cry all day. “I figured I needed it more than you.”
“You’re going to be just fine without me.” I’d give her a hug, but I’ve already given her seven of those this morning, and I don’t want to dump this enormous chunk of cake all over her beautiful peacock blue pumps. “You act like I’m moving across the country.”
“You pretty much are.” She sulks, shoving an angry bite into her mouth.
“Fox Agency is eleven blocks north of here.”
Addison comes up from behind, a punch glass in one hand and her other hand covering her bulging belly. It’s baby number two for the Van Cleefs, a little brother for Lily.
“I feel like just when I got you, I lost you.” Addison shrugs, fighting a teasing smirk. “I’m happy for you though. I’m glad you and Xavier were able to work things out. I know you were quite the team, and I have no doubt you’ll pick up right where you left off. Just don’t steal my clients.”
“Now you know how Brenda Bliss felt when you left Bliss Agency,” Skylar says to Addison. “It’s karma.”
“Everything has a way of working out,” Addison says, rubbing her belly. “Things that don’t make sense, things that are difficult or painful—they help us grow. They lead us right where we’re meant to go. You belong with Xavier. He brings out a side of you, professionally, that I never could.”
“Won’t it be weird working for your boyfriend?” Skylar wrinkles her nose.
“I’ll be working with him, not for him. He’s making me a partner.” I stand tall. “It was part of the agreement. I wouldn’t sign on unless he made me a partner. We’re fifty-fifty. We’ll be Grantham Fox Agency here soon.”
“Has a nice ring to it,” Skylar says.
“I suppose it’s the way it was always supposed to be.” Addison sighs, her blue eyes reflective. She leans in for a hug. “Good luck, Magnolia. I’m sorry to see you go, but it’s nice to see you happy again.”
“Knock, knock.” I open the door to Xavier’s office, a brown paper sack in one hand. “Brought you lunch.”
He spins in his chair, his eyes flashing. “A guy could get used to this.”
“A guy shouldn’t get used to this,” I tease, depositing his lunch on his desk. He pulls me toward him until I land in his lap. His hand rests across my thighs while the other tangles in my hair. I lean down, grazing my lips across his. “Because one of these days, the girl will be too busy brokering deals to remember to remind the guy to eat.”
“I wonder if we have room in the budget for an on-site chef.”
“I don’t know. Now that I’m here, we just might.”
“Arrogant much?”
“Confident.”
Six months ago, I never thought he’d be a fixture in my life again. Six months ago, he came into my life when I least expected it. Six months ago, everything changed.
“We need to talk about our office arrangement.” I glance around the expansive room, which is anchored by his offensively large walnut desk.
“We do?”
“Yes. Since my commute is a bit longer now—”
<
br /> “You can take the subway.”
“Let me finish.” A smirk glides across my lips. This is what we do. We negotiate. It’s fun. “I think you can throw me a bone and switch me offices. You’ve had this one long enough, don’t you think? I bet you’re tired of this view.”
“I could never be tired of this view.”
“Everything’s negotiable, so . . .?”
“Perhaps we should’ve discussed the office arrangement before you signed on as partner?”
“My designated office is two hundred eleven square feet. Yours is approximately thirty percent larger. My walk to work is now approximately fifty percent longer,” I glance up at the ceiling, recalling my figures. “The way I see it, that means—”
“Oh, here we go.” Xavier rises, sliding me off his lap. “You and your numbers.”
“I suppose you’re going to try to use your gift of persuasion to talk me out of this now?”
He takes my head in his hands, depositing a kiss on top of my head like he thinks I’m cute.
I’m not finished. “You won’t be able to sweet talk your way out of this, just so you know. I’m pretty set. I’ve done the math, and I’m prepared to present a pretty compelling argument that I think you’ll—”
Xavier crushes my mouth with his, his tongue gliding between my lips. Every kiss from him grounds me in ways I never thought possible. He’s my anchor. The last two years, I was caught in a freefall with nothing to cling to.
Who knew the entire time, I was circling back to him?
“Magnolia.” He holds my face, the tip of his nose brushing mine. His hands drag down my arms, resting on the dip above my hips. “There’s an industrial loft about two blocks from here. You should live there. Five-minute commute.”
My throat dries. Is he asking what I think he’s asking?
“Xavier . . .”
“Move in with me.”
“It’s kind of soon. We’ve only been together six months.”
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