Page 1 of Claiming Bennett (Montgomery Dreams #3)

MAGGIE

“Who do you think you’re talking to, young lady?” Dad blusters, his face ruddy and red like he thinks his anger will fix my attitude.

Fuck’s sake. He always deflects when I try to have a serious conversation with him. And he wonders why all I ever have for him is sass. I’m not even being as bitchy as usual.

If that’s what he wants, though…

“Pretty sure I’m talking to my father,” I say blandly, not looking up from my phone. “We could get a paternity test if you want to double check.”

He makes a choking noise from off to my side, and I glance up just in time to watch his mouth flop open and closed like a fish out of water. I snicker at the sight before turning my attention back to my social media feed.

“Magnolia Melody!” Mom snaps as soon as the words are out of my mouth. “I won’t listen to you speak to your father like that.”

I know no one else dares speak to him like this, but someone needs to keep the man in line. Besides, I’m only giving back as good as I get. If he wasn’t so insistent on treating me like a child, I might just talk to him like an adult.

Seriously, I don’t get why he’s making such a big deal out of this.

It’s not the first time I’ve brought up my plans for after graduation, but he’s acting like I shot him because I asked him for access to my trust fund.

That’s what it’s there for, isn’t it? I’ve given him the same answer every single time he’s asked me what I wanted to do after high school, and he blows up about it no matter how I phrase it.

What, did he think my plans were going to change just because I finished high school?

I’m not playing around about this, not like I’ve done with everything until now.

This is my life we’re talking about.

“It’s been a year since you graduated high school, and you’ve done nothing to make plans for your life,” he says, his brows furrowed in a deep frown.

I roll my eyes and toss my phone down on the table.

God, not this shit again. “Nine months. It’s been nine months.

Stop exaggerating. And I haven’t made any plans because you won’t give me the money you set aside for me to live my life.

I’ve been telling you I want to go to California since I was sixteen.

You respect Aunt Kathy plenty, don’t you?

Why is it a problem that I want a life like hers? ”

Glitz, glam, and luxurious house parties, not to mention fancy hairdressers.

I’d make an excellent socialite, especially in LA.

I was fucking made for it. Now that Oakley’s off at college, I’m the center of attention around here, but it’s not enough.

I deserve to have people eating out of the palm of my hand, begging to do anything to make my life easier.

I’ve been thoroughly dissuaded of any thoughts of going into fashion design, thanks to Savannah and her gaggle of drones bullying me relentlessly about my sketches. I was fucking seven , but that hasn’t stopped them from bringing it up at every chance they get.

Even Dad gives me shit for it, but I doubt he has any idea how deep his words cut.

Mom makes an annoyed noise in the back of her throat, but doesn’t look up from where she’s trying to focus on her laptop.

See, that’s exactly what I don’t want—frown lines and stress and the exhaustion that comes from working my ass off for every good thing in my life.

I want to revel in the good things the world has to offer.

“No child of mine will have the world handed to them on a silver platter,” Dad says, his tone harsh and scathing.

Whatever. I’d prefer gold, anyway. Silver’s not my color.

Dad’s still pacing as he rants and raves. “You’re ignoring all the hard work Kathy put in to get where she is. You’re taking advantage of all the hard work your mother and I put in to even be able to offer you a trust fund, and I won’t stand for it, Magnolia.”

I scoff at the use of my full name, my lip curling into a sneer. God, if I never have to hear that fucking name again, it’d be too early. He’s the reason I refuse to answer to it, only ever calling me that when I’m in trouble, like hearing my full name will make me snap to attention like a soldier.

“Enough, you two,” Mom says with a harsh sigh, slamming her hand on the table.

“David, you’re pushing too hard, and Maggie, you’re being ridiculous.

Kathy was a highly successful real estate agent before she ever met Ricky, and they would’ve never met if she wasn’t working.

She retired on her own money, not Ricky’s fortune.

If you want a life like that, follow in her footsteps and make something of yourself. ”

Jesus Christ, again with the same old lecture. Aunt Kathy didn’t have a trust to start her life with. I do . What’s the point in wasting the whole damn thing?

“I don’t want to retire on my own fortune, or on someone else’s.

I have what I need to start my life in that trust, and I can figure out what I want from there.

Why is it so hard to understand that I just want to live and enjoy my life?

” I cross my arms over my chest and rake a withering glance over my parents.

“I don’t even want a husband, so if that’s all you can tempt me with, you should really rethink your strategy. ”

The twinge of loneliness in my chest that’s been growing steadily more insistent over the last few years is something I intently ignore.

Now that both Oakley and Bo are all cozied up with the loves of their lives, it’s harder to pretend that I don’t care about finding someone for myself. Above all, I want to have fun .

A relationship will either happen or it won’t. I've got plenty of time. I’m young, beautiful, and have my whole life ahead of me. Men will be falling all over me in L.A., I’ll have my pick of anyone I want.

“I’ve told you a million times what I want, Dad, and moving to California and setting up a life would be easy if you’d just give me my damn trust fund!

” I glare at him, ignoring the way Mom tosses her hand in the air, obviously exhausted with the constant back and forth. “What are you going to do… stop me?”

“Don’t think you’re too old for a whooping, Magnolia,” Dad threatens.

Please, he hasn’t switched me since I was ten. If he wants to scare me, he’ll have to do better than that.

“ Oh , I’m shaking in my boots, old man.” I scoff at him, leaning back in my seat and leveling him with a snotty glare. “I’m an adult. Try to smack me, and I’ll press charges.”

Dad’s bushy brows raise so far up on his forehead that it looks like they’re trying to mesh with his hairline.

His red-faced anger evaporates in the course of a moment, and that’s how I know I really made a misstep.

Goddamnit, it’s not an argument anymore.

Now it’s a battle of wills, and he’s the only person I know who’s as stubborn as I am.

“Well, then,” he says tightly, forcing a smile to his face. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Maggie, you’ve always been my baby, and I keep forgetting you’re not a little girl anymore. You’re an adult, right?”

I narrow my eyes in distrust at his reasonable tone, not liking the shine in his eyes. Time to backpedal before I get myself into real trouble.

“I don’t want to fight with you, Dad,” I say, sweetly. Kissing his ass like this is something I hate, but I know better than to keep pushing when Dad changes his mind. “I’m grateful for the trust fund, really. I’m not trying to take it for granted, but I don’t want it to go to waste.”

“Ah, well, I’m glad you don’t want to fight,” he says, just as sweet. “It’s silly for us to argue like this when you’re an adult, don’t you think?”

I glance over at Mom, suspicious of Dad’s sudden change of heart, but her face is totally blank as she looks at her laptop.

I don’t trust it, but maybe Dad truly just doesn’t want to fight.

It wouldn’t be the first time he jumped ship when things got too heated between us, but it’s the first time he’s been so amenable about it.

“Yeah,” I say, hesitantly. “I’m glad you understand, Dad.”

He smiles brightly, and my gut drops at the amusement glittering in his eyes as he reaches out to clap a hand over my shoulder.

“Me too, Magnolia. I thought we’d never see eye to eye.”

“Thanks for agreeing,” I say, still glancing between him and my mom. I feel like I’m digging myself deeper into a hole, but I have no clue what the glint in Dad’s eyes means. “So I can have my trust and go to California?”

Dad laughs loudly, a hand over his gut. He tosses his head back as he chuckles, his bushy facial hair quivering with his laughter.

“Your trust?” he asks through a wide grin. “Magnolia, you just said you’re an adult! You can handle yourself, can’t you? What would you need that trust fund for?”

My stomach drops straight through the floor. Dad shares an amused glance with Mom when she looks up from her laptop, and my slim hope that she’ll put a stop to this crumbles away like dust.

“Since you’re grown, you can get a job and start working!” he says, clapping me on the shoulder so hard it rocks me in my seat. “Or you can even go to school, apply yourself. That’s what grown folks do.”

He doesn’t call me a little shit, but it rings loud and clear in the expression of triumph on his face. He can’t be serious.

It’s my turn to gape at him like a fish out of water. An awful squeak of utter terror escapes my mouth as I stare at him, hoping against hope that he’s joking. Sure, I pushed more than I should’ve, but this is way too far.

“Wait, Dad, I?—”

“That sounds like a good idea to me. Don’t you think, honey?” he asks Mom.

I watch, devastated, as Mom’s lips twitch in amusement.

“I think it might be good for her,” she agrees.

“I’m right here!” I screech. “You’re acting insane! Why would I work when I have a trust fund? That’s crazy!”