Page 7

7

MAGNOLIA

T he schoolroom smells like crayons and pencil shavings, a scent that seems to follow me everywhere I go these days. Most of the kids have already left for the day, their voices echoing down the stone walls of the den as they run off to their families.

Lucy, of course, is the exception. She’s sitting cross-legged on the reading rug, flipping through a picture book with exaggerated concentration, waiting for me to finish tidying up.

“Alright, Lu,” I call over my shoulder, straightening a stack of papers on my desk. “You ready to head out?”

“Almost!” she chirps, holding up the book. “I’m reading about dinosaurs.”

“You’ve read that one a hundred times,” I tease, crossing the room to ruffle her hair. “Come on, we’ll borrow it and you can finish it at home.”

Before she can protest, the thud of boots on the worn wooden floorboards outside echoes through the quiet schoolroom, instantly drawing both of our attention. His scent –that delicious scent of dark chocolate and roasted coffee–fills my lungs. I turn toward the doorway, my breath catching mid-step as I see him.

Colt.

He’s leaning against the frame, his broad shoulders filling the entryway. He’s wearing a worn white t-shirt that stretches deliciously across his chest, jeans that seem to fit just right. The light from the hallway casts shadows across his sharp features, accentuating the rugged edge to his jawline. In one hand, he holds a battered toolbox, the other tucked casually into the pocket of his jeans, like he’s got all the time in the world.

It’s the kind of entrance that shouldn’t be sexy—but God, does it work.

“Am I interrupting?” he drawls, his green-blue eyes flicking between me and Lucy.

“No,” I say quickly, my cheeks warming. “Just finishing up.”

Lucy is instantly enamored, dropping the book as if she didn’t just try to convince me she was busy reading it. My mom has been on a full campaign against Colt in our household, given the way Kate has hyped him up with River’s help–but it doesn’t seem to be working on my littlest sister.

“Hi!” Lucy pipes up, her little face lighting up as she scrambles to her feet. “Are you here to fix stuff?”

Colt’s mouth quirks into a half-smile, and I swear I feel it all the way down to my toes. “Yep,” he says, crouching slightly to meet Lucy’s gaze. “What about you, kid? You the boss around here?”

She giggles, clutching the book to her chest. “Maggie’s the boss,” she says matter-of-factly. “But I’m her helper.”

“Good to know,” Colt replies. He’s good with kids. Of course he’s good with kids. He stands again, his gaze sliding back to me. “Was chatting with Tilda earlier and she mentioned there’s a cabinet giving you trouble?”

It takes me a second too long to respond, and I have to clear my throat to shake myself free of the effect he has on me. “Oh, right,” I manage, my voice embarrassingly high. “The one by the supply closet. It’s been creaking like crazy whenever we open it.”

“Lead the way,” he says, tilting his chin toward the back of the room. His words are simple enough, but there’s something in the way he says them that feels like a command.

I want to obey.

I want to do whatever he tells me to do.

I glance at Lucy, who’s been watching this whole interaction with open curiosity. “Go grab your stuff, okay? We’ll head out in a minute.”

“Okay!” she chirps before scurrying off to her desk, leaving me alone with Colt.

That’s right…alone.

Again.

Something I’m starting to think is very, very dangerous.

The room feels too small with him in it, his scent—dark chocolate and roasted coffee, rich and indulgent—curling around me and making it impossible to think straight. I guide him toward the back of the classroom, hyper-aware of how close he is behind me.

“It’s this one,” I say, stopping in front of the offending cabinet and gesturing to it. “The hinge is loose, and the door doesn’t sit right.”

Colt sets his toolbox down with a solid thunk and crouches in front of the cabinet. I should probably step back, give him space. Instead, I hover, my eyes drawn to the way his broad shoulders move under his shirt, the way his forearms flex as he pulls out a screwdriver and starts working.

“Doesn’t look too bad,” he murmurs, his voice low as he tightens the screws with practiced ease. His hands are sure, deliberate, like he knows exactly what he’s doing and doesn’t need to think twice about it. It’s utterly hypnotizing. Every movement of his fingers, the flex of his hands, the corded muscles in his forearms…

“You don’t have to stay,” he says, glancing up at me. “Unless you’re supervising.”

I fold my arms. “Maybe I am,” I say, the words coming out with more confidence than I feel. My heart’s racing, but I won’t let him see it.

His smirk deepens. “You’re the boss,” he teases, his voice low and rich. It’s the kind of tone that feels like it’s meant just for me, a secret I’m not sure I’m ready to share.

I shift on my feet, suddenly too warm, the intensity of his attention making it hard to breathe. “So,” I blurt, desperate to break the charged silence. “I actually…I thought I’d invite you to something.”

“Invite me?” he echoes, tilting his head in that slow, assessing way that makes me feel completely exposed. “To what?”

I clear my throat, trying to sound casual. “Story night,” I say, the words rushing out in my effort to fill the space between us. “It’s this thing we do every week. People tell stories—made up, real, doesn’t matter. The kids love it, and it’s…a good way for everyone to come together. You know, part of the pack and all that.”

Colt finishes up what he’s doing and stands, his broad shoulders seeming even broader now as he looms over me. I realize just how close we are, his scent swirling around me, making my thoughts fuzzy. My pulse quickens, and I force myself to meet his gaze, even though every nerve in my body is screaming that I shouldn’t.

“Sounds cozy,” he says, the word rolling off his tongue with an edge of suggestion that makes my knees weak. “You inviting me?”

I blink, thrown off by the way he says it—like he’s testing the waters, seeing how far he can push.

“It’s open to everyone,” I say quickly, my voice reedy. Then, because I feel like I need to justify myself, I add, “But…yeah. I mean, I thought it might be good for people to see you there. You know, get a sense of who you are. It might help them trust you more.”

“Trust me, huh?” he says, his voice dipping lower. He takes a small step closer, and I can feel the heat radiating off him. “And what about you? Do you trust me, Magnolia?”

The way he says my name—slow and deliberate, savoring it—makes my knees weak. I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. I’m too aware of how close he is, how his gaze seems to pin me in place. My pulse pounds in my ears, and all I can think about is how I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want him right now.

I’ve never even been kissed, but I want him to do all sorts of dirty things to me.

“I…” My voice falters, and I swallow hard, trying to pull myself together. “I think…everyone deserves a chance.”

“Didn’t answer my question,” he teases. “You asking me out, Magnolia?”

“No!” I squeak, too loud and too quick. My cheeks burn hotter than ever. I shake my head, trying to regain some semblance of control. “I mean…no. It’s not like that. It’s just…for the pack.”

“Sure,” he says, dragging the word out in a way that makes it clear he doesn’t believe me. He steps back, finally giving me room to breathe, but his gaze stays locked on mine. “For the pack.”

“Right,” I say.

Colt smirks, the kind of expression that says he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. He picks up his toolbox, his movements slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring the moment. “Okay,” he says. “I’d love to go with you.”

I let out a strangled sound in my throat, but he doesn’t notice–or, if he does, he doesn’t let it show. “I’ll walk you to the door,” I tell him.

Lucy has a canvas bag over her shoulder when we get back to the door, the dinosaur book stuffed haphazardly into it with about forty crayons and a gigantic stuffed rabbit. Colt chuckles and kneels in front of her again, holding out his hand for a fist bump.

“I’ll see ya around, kid,” he says. “You make sure to keep Miss Maggie in line, alright?”

Lucy giggles, suddenly shy. I click my tongue at her.

“Say goodbye, bumblebee,” I chide.

“Bye, Mr. Colt,” she says.

Colt stands, then locks eyes with me one more time.

“I’ll see you tonight, Magnolia,” he murmurs.

And just like that, he’s gone, his boots echoing against the wooden floorboards as he heads toward the front of the classroom.

I let out a shaky breath, pressing a hand to my chest as if that might somehow steady my racing heart. My thoughts are a tangled mess, even as Lucy grins, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “He’s nice,” she says.

Yeah…that’s one word for it.

The late afternoon sun filters down on us as we leave the den to go back to my family home, the cool breeze a welcome contrast to the heat still lingering on my skin from Colt’s presence. Lucy chatters away beside me, her voice a cheerful hum against the backdrop of birdsong and rustling leaves.

But as we round the corner toward the main path, my steps falter.

There’s an alpha here–and not the one I was expecting.

Frankie is leaning against the side of the building, scowling. She straightens when she sees us, her eyes flicking between me and Lucy before settling on me.

“Maggie,” she says, her tone cautious. “Got a minute?”

I glance down at Lucy, who’s busy examining a cluster of wildflowers near the edge of the path. “What’s up, Frankie?” I ask, keeping my tone light, though my stomach knots at the sight of her guarded expression.

Frankie steps closer, lowering her voice so Lucy won’t hear. “I wanted to talk to you about Morgan.”

My heart sinks, and I resist the urge to sigh. “What about him?”

Her gaze sharpens, and for a moment, I feel like a bug under a magnifying glass. “I don’t trust him,” she says bluntly. “And neither should you.”

This isn’t entirely surprising, but it certainly isn’t welcome. I fold my arms, bristling at her tone. “He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“Yet,” Frankie counters, her eyes narrowing. “But he’s hiding something, Magnolia. I can feel it.”

I glance back at Lucy, who’s still happily absorbed in her flowers, then lower my voice. “Frankie, you don’t even know him.”

“Exactly,” she snaps. “And neither do you. But you’re already—” She cuts herself off, her jaw tightening. “Just…be careful, alright? The pack’s been through enough without bringing in someone who might blow it all up.”

I swallow hard, her words settling over me like a weight. “I hear you,” I say quietly, not wanting to argue in front of Lucy. “But I think he deserves a chance.”

Frankie’s expression softens, just slightly, but the worry in her eyes doesn’t fade. “I hope you’re right,” she says. “For all our sakes.”

She steps back, giving Lucy a quick nod before heading down the path. I watch her go, my mind racing with everything she just said.

Lucy tugs at my hand, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Can we go now?” she asks, her voice bright and impatient.

“Yeah,” I say, forcing a smile as I look down at her. “Let’s go.”

But even as we walk toward our house, Frankie’s warning lingers in the back of my mind, a shadow I can’t quite shake.

Everyone’s telling me to stay away from him…and that just hardens my resolve to make him mine.