Page 7 of Protected by the Sheriff (Magnolia Falls #2)

Mason

A fter a day from hell, I just want to get a couple of beers and sit on my back deck as I look up at the stars.

Rubbing my aching temples, I get out of the car and open the front door.

As I walk in, I smell the faint floral scent of cherry blossoms. Weird.

That’s the scent that Olivia always wears. I must be hallucinating.

After walking in, placing my keys down, and changing into some comfortable clothes, I go straight to the refrigerator.

When I pull the door open, I feel like I’ve had a stroke. “What the hell?”

The milk is where the juice should be; the deli meat is all outside of the deli drawer. The fruit is on the meat and cheese rack, and all of my beer is spread throughout the fridge with the labels turned inward.

My brother Declan used to do things like this to mess with me because things being out-of-order drives me crazy, but this wasn’t Declan. No, this was the little hurricane of chaos and color. Somehow, she managed to gain access to my house and rearranged the fridge.

After spending ten minutes putting everything back in its rightful place and facing the way it should be, I go to the pantry thinking I will heat some canned soup. Just something quick and easy for dinner. When I open the cabinet, I’m faced with my worst nightmare.

Every single can is haphazardly placed and stacked unevenly, and not even in rows.

The worst part, though, is that there isn’t one can with a label left on it.

They all look the same. That means I can’t tell the soup from the carrots, or the green beans from the peas. The peaches from the pineapple.

I reach up and grab my hair and pull as I look at the silver cans that are identical and wonder how I’m going to fix this.

My meticulously, carefully arranged cabinets and fridge, my system of perfect efficiency… all unraveling like a cheap sweater. This isn’t about chickens or garden lights anymore. This is war.

After I called Declan last night, I gave him instructions for what I needed, and we made plans to meet for breakfast. He was only willing to help because he knew Savannah had given Olivia the key to my house.

My brother has a spare to mine, which Savannah lifted and gave to Olivia.

So Declan stole Olivia’s, giving it to me.

Turnabout is fair play; besides, what’s she going to do?

Call the sheriff? I chuckle to myself at the thought.

As I sip my coffee at The Greasy Skillet, Declan sits across from me with a huge smirk on his face. “Why don’t you just admit that you like her, Mase?”

“I don’t like her. In fact, I can’t stand her. She’s annoying and too chaotic, and blindingly colorful. Those are all the things I don’t like. The loud, obnoxious, out-of-order chaos gives me anxiety.”

He mumbles under his breath about the tent in my pants, and this is the second time he’s mentioned that. I guess I’m not hiding my feelings as well as I thought I was.

My cheeks flame. “That’s not true. It’s more like she’s a pain in my ass.”

Declan is getting on my nerves with his knowing smirk. Another reason he and Savannah have been so helpful to Liv and me playing this game with one another is that they are low-key playing matchmaker. He really can’t wait to say he told me so, but I refuse to let myself fall victim to Olivia.

“Women trap you and then use you, only to betray you. That life isn’t for me. I’ve learned from watching your life implode that it’s easier to stay single.”

The color drains from Dec’s face, and his eyes become stormy before I realize what I’ve said.

“I’m sorry, brother. I didn’t mean to say that, but you know as well as I do what a woman can do to someone’s life.”

Declan wrings his hands. “I know all too well, but has Savannah done that? Would you say I’m better off being single than with my wife and kids? Because I will walk through hell a million times to get to Savannah, Kenzi, and Ashton. Nothing has ever made me happier than that woman has.”

Reaching across the table, I pat his shoulder. “Vannah is one of a kind, Declan. I’m so glad you found her, but she’s the exception, not the rule. I can’t risk going down that road and being trapped by a woman, only to find out she’s like your ex.”

“Mason, I know you watched my life be destroyed by Lisa, but what I’ve gained from Savannah made it all worth it.

Let someone in, and if it isn’t Olivia, let it be someone else.

I think Liv might be exactly what you need, though.

Someone who is the opposite of your controlled and beige world.

She can bring color and chaos, but she could also bring life and love.

You love Ashton and Kenzi to death. Don’t you want your own kids one day? ”

A blast of vision hits me of Olivia pregnant and I freeze.

Normally, the thought would make me nauseous, but I’m actually contemplating what it would be like to knock Olivia up with my child.

For her belly to be round with my son or daughter.

It’s like an epiphany hits me right in the chest. Reaching up, I massage the dull ache.

What the hell is wrong with me? The vision of Liv pregnant is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever imagined, and I am hit with a feeling of wanting that I’ve never felt before.

That’s when I notice Declan calling my name. “Mason, what the hell? I’ve been calling your name over and over, and you just froze! What is wrong?”

I shake my head while staying silent. No way can I admit the thoughts that just ran through my head to my brother. He’ll think I’ve lost my mind and honestly, I think I have too.

Looking at Declan, I let him know I need to get going. It’s time for Olivia to open Branded, so I have work to do.

The plan is to go to her house and remove all her clothing.

Every single piece. I’m going to put white socks, white T-shirts, and gray sweatpants in her drawers; plus, white underwear and plain white bras.

Taking all the ones with color away and only leaving these few.

She won’t have a single colorful piece of clothing to wear.

I won’t venture to analyze why I hang all her clothing in my closet and put the foldable items in my dresser drawers. Some of which I clean out for her. I mean, she’s not my girlfriend. I’m just storing them for the moment. Don’t judge me.

As I stand in front of my now overly full closet, it looks like a bag of Skittles threw up in there.

I wear beige, black, white, and brown. Olivia has hot pink, bright yellow, and turquoise, along with all the other colors of the rainbow.

It’s a stark contrast to what my closet looked like before I stole all her items.

I get a warm feeling in my chest and gut seeing her items mixed with mine, in my house, in my closet.

It’s something I don’t understand, but I just know I want these items here and I want them to stay.

I doubt Olivia is going to be okay with the gray sweats, white T-shirts, and cheap flip-flops I left for her to wear.

All I know is that I’m well and truly fucked. This woman is going to ruin me; that’s if she doesn’t kill me first.