The Magnolia Chronicles: Adventures in Modern Dating(20)

Oh my god. This is my real life.

"Yeah, so, okay," I mumbled.

At the same time, he said, "Here's the deal. Nights are the only time I have. I'm working days right now. Twelve to twelve, most weekdays."

"That explains part of this madness," I murmured. "Got it."

"Yeah," he replied, nodding. "I'm off Saturday, Sunday, and Monday. Maybe you could come over this weekend and tell me what I don't know."

I snorted out a laugh. "As long as you promise to stop using power tools in the middle of the night, sure."

Ben's gaze slid over me, slowly at first, as if he didn't know what he'd find if he looked at me for more than a second. But he didn't glance away this time. "It's a deal. How about Saturday?"

Before I could reply, a wide, ugly yawn hit me. It was all gurgly throat noises and watery eyes, and a grossly unhinged jaw. Ben watched the whole thing, staring at me with an eyebrow arched and that scowly smirk frozen in place.

"Sorry about that," I murmured, pressing my fist to my mouth to keep another yawn at bay. It was par for the tit-city course but I was trying to reclaim some dignity here. "Yeah. Saturday. Awesome. I'll see you then." I pointed at him. "Stay away from the tools, Bennett Brock. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said, that smirk transforming into a smile. "Understood. I won't touch anything until I see you on Saturday."

With a nod, I headed back toward my house. Exhaustion hit me hard as I locked the door and made my way into the bedroom. Gronk was pacing the edge of my bed. "It's all good," I told him. "You can chill now."

He responded by flopping on his back, paws up.

"Graceful as always," I murmured as I kicked off my mocs. "I'll introduce you to the guy behind all the noise this weekend. He's a special one." His big hands flashed in my mind. What a treasure. "Real special."

Gronk rolled over to face me, cocked his head, and let out a soft whine.

"Don't worry about the noisy neighbor boy," I said, patting the bed beside me. Gronk army-crawled there and nestled his head against my palm. "You'll always be my main man."





Chapter Eleven





My date was running late. Eleven minutes, to be exact.

But it wasn't a date. Not like my other dates. This was a meeting between two people considering a physical relationship, but that sounded too much like a call girl interview so I slotted this event into the date category for the sake of simplicity.

Regardless of the date/not-a-date quagmire, I was working hard at staying calm about Mr. Nine's tardiness. Working hard didn't mean I was succeeding. Every few minutes, I checked my phone and twisted in my seat to glance at the bakery's front door. I thought about switching seats to give me a better view of the door but I knew Mr. Nine Inches would walk in while I was rearranging myself and I didn't need to increase the awkward quotient.

We all knew he'd show up while I was in that strange half-standing, half-sitting position, my ass out and my hands filled with nonsense. He'd be there, staring at me in horror as he realized the full extent of my hot mess, and I'd have to turtle up under the table.

I threw good sense to the wind and did it anyway.

I was strategic about this move, relocating my phone and bag before the seat swivel. It was fast, and a glance at the door told me I'd avoided meeting Mr. Nine ass first. The women seated beside me, the ones in puffer vests with matching aqua-lidded MacBooks, watched as if I was busy fishing bits of tortilla chips out of my bra and eating them.

Not that I hadn't done that, but their judgy faces were wholly unnecessary this afternoon.

Tossing my hair over my shoulder, I studied the entrance again. At this vantage point, I'd be able to spy Mr. Nine on the street. That plan suffered from one fatal flaw in that I didn't know what he looked like. His profile had a few photos, but they were of the baseball-cap-and-sunglasses and snowboarding-helmet-and-sunglasses varieties.

Basically, I knew he was a human man with a big cock who favored sunglasses. The other details remained to be seen.

I checked my phone again and found a text from Andy.



Andy: Are you having sex with him after lunch? How does that work? What's the protocol there? Do you go back to work after? Or are you done for the day at that point?

Magnolia: Irrelevant. This is a getting to know you lunch, not a getting naked lunch.

Andy: Did you shave your legs?

Magnolia: It's spring. I shave my legs any day I plan on wearing a dress without leggings.

Andy: So, yes.

Magnolia: Yes.

Andy: So, you've entertained the idea of fucking him today.

Magnolia: Entertained? Sure. I've also entertained getting my nipples pierced and a tramp stamp of a rubber plant.

Andy: Wait, a rubber plant?

Magnolia: It's a type of succulent.

Andy: Only slightly less odd, but okay.

Magnolia: You're one to talk. You have a tattoo of Harry Potter motorboating your boobs.

Andy: That's…that's not accurate.

Magnolia: It's just a lunch date. Even if I did shave my legs and blow out my hair.

Andy: Let me know if you need me to bring you a change of clothes tomorrow morning and/or save you from any unpleasant exits this afternoon.