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Dad tousles my hair like I’m in the middle of a schoolyard conundrum, not almost thirty, and in love with two hot men.
“I don’t worry about you anymore,” he says. “Since you were a baby, folks went on about how beautiful my daughter was, and that scared the hell out of me, but not anymore.”
“Why? Because I’ll kill a man now?”
It’s a joke. And it’s not.
“That, and”—Dad wraps his arm around my shoulder—“love doesn’t kill ya, Magnolia Cade. It just makes you feel a lot. All the good and all the bad. And that’s a gift to cherish because it’s much better than feeling nothing at all.”
I bury my face in his chest, smelling my childhood in Dad’s cologne. He’s talking about me. He’s talking about him and Mama, too. They spent too many years apart, feeling angry and hurt, and now they’re cherishing every day they can get because we all only get so many before they’re all gone.
And I want more days too. Days filled with love, not anger.
The six-hour drive home passes quickly. Thoughts and miles fly by.
I’m kinda missing them. Okay, it’s a lot. I miss sleeping on Redix’s chest. I miss fishing with Silas. The list is long with all I adore about them both.
It’s late afternoon as I pull into the QuickTrip gas station before crossing the bridge back to Hilton Head Island. I need to fill up on gas and candy. And my favorite store owner is here, too.
“Afternoon, Ms. Dubois,” I call out as I make a beeline for the candy aisle. “You doing alright?”
“It’s spring break.” She smacks her gum while I set my goodies down on the counter. “I’m busier than a cat covering crap on a marble floor.”
Damn, she’s like my mama.
“Glad to hear it.” I lay a ten down and don’t want the change. “Have a good one,” I wish her as I turn toward the glass doors…
And stop dead in my tracks.
The parking lot is full of tourist cars fueling up, but I’d spot him in a hurricane.
Senator Gentry Evans stands by his parked BMW on the edge of the parking lot. His back is toward me, but I’d know those damn madras pants anywhere. He’s talking to someone, and I can’t see who, but I know if it’s in a gas station parking lot, it’s criminal for him. He does official business on the golf course.
It’s a few minutes while I stand, munching Lemonheads, waiting to see. I hope it’s not Stacey. I hope they’re not fighting because I’m not in the mood to kill him today. I’d rather have pizza tonight.
When he finally steps his pancake ass aside, my ribs yank a breath in so fast.
It’s that woman.
The one Redix is “dating” from his AA meeting. She’s standing in the parking lot, wearing a leather jacket on April Fool’s Day, and this ain’t a joke. She’s working for Gentry Evans. It’s obvious by her nods and cocky smile.
I’d say, “this bitch” but I won’t waste my fourth favorite curse word on her.
“Fuck, shit, and damn” go first before an “I knew it” hisses from my soul.
The question is, what am I gonna do about it?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Feel It by Michele Morrone
Lorraine went all out on this trailer.
She’s gotta be forking over almost ten thousand a week renting this thing for me. It’s got a double-length white leather sofa. Ebony wood cabinets. A huge flatscreen on one end. A plush queen-size bed in a room on the other.
All this for moving our production to Georgia. It’s like she owes me something, but I’m the thankful one. Shooting closer to home makes my life a lot easier.
We’re shooting beach exteriors on Tybee Island this week, so it’s damn convenient. It’s only an hour and a half to drive home.
