Page 48 of Deception & Daylight
“No.” The word rushes out of me before I can think better of it. “Can you stay on the phone with me? Just until I fall asleep.” The request feels far too intimate, but I can’t bring myself to regret it.
“Of course.” There’s something indescribable in the way he’s looking at me. “I could come over, if you want.”
“We can’t. The rules.”
“Fuck the rules, Mags. I just want to hold you.”
His words send a jolt of longing straight through me, but I can’t let them take root. Miles Barlow isn’t mine to keep, even if I can no longer find it in me to deny the tether that draws me to him.
Chapter 20
Mags
? No Complaints - Noah Kahan
“Ihereby convene the first ever Books and Baddies Book Club. Shit, someone get me a gavel next time. I feel so powerful like this.” Laughter erupts as Ivy speaks, standing behind a podium surrounded by cushioned chairs at the back of Chapters and Brews.
It’s after hours on a Tuesday, and everyone filed in right on time with their favorite books in hand, as requested. I eye the crowd, recognizing most of the faces in the room.
It seems we’ve each arrived with a companion in tow. Rosie is here with her granddaughter, Olivia. Paige brought Nana and Evelyn, and I coerced Lucy into tagging along. Mo is here with someone I don’t recognize — a strikingly beautiful plus size woman with wire-frame glasses and short dark hair. She catches me looking and her mouth tips into a friendly smile, which I quickly return before averting my gaze.
“We’ll each take turns at the podium introducing ourselves and talk a little about our favorite books so we can get a feel for our tastes beforewe pick our first book of the month.” Ivy reaches into her purse and pulls out a familiar dark romance novel. We read it earlier this year as a part of our long distance book club, and it rewired my brain chemistry. Who knew I had a thing for men in masks?
“I’m Ivy,” she says, beginning her introduction. “I have a 5-year-old daughter and I’m expecting my second baby in a few months. I mostly read romance and fantasy.” She gives a quick synopsis and breakdown of her favorite book before motioning for Paige to take her place.
My introverted bestie approaches tentatively, scanning the crowd. When her gaze lands on me, I give her a subtle thumbs up and she proceeds with a succinct introduction and, to absolutely nobody’s surprise,the synopsis of a popular cowboy romance.
Lucy is up next, and to my shock, she holds up a taboo age gap romance, the cover depicting a suggestive scene between a young woman and an older man, playing on the forbidden ex-boyfriend’s dad trope.Go Lucy.
We go around the circle like that until the unfamiliar woman steps up. She clears her throat and straightens her spine. “My name is Callie Cooper. I’m a librarian and I have a Maine Coon named Atticus.” She hesitates for a moment before she retrieves a book from her oversized leather book bag. It’s a sapphic romance I don’t recognize but immediately add to my TBR.
Mo squeals excitedly when she produces the same book from her backpack. She quickly swaps places with Callie. “I’m Morgan, but my friends call me Mo. I use they/them and she/her pronouns interchangeably, and this cozy little establishment is all mine.”
We continue on with the introductions until the last person standing is yours truly.
My heart races as I step up to the podium. I swallow thickly before shaking out my nerves.
It’s now or never.
“Hi. I’m Maggie Watson. I’m—” I waver over my next words, wondering if this is the right time. “Oh, fuck it. I’m an author.” I reach into my tote and pull out my well loved first edition of Love Between Loathing.
A hush falls over the room and my heartbeat thrums in my ears as I wait for a reaction. My eyes instinctively find Paige, slack jawed and stunned silent. She stares blankly, doing mental gymnastics to puzzle out my confession. “M.W. Hartley. Maggie. Watson. Hartley. Son of a bitch! You little shit!”
The room erupts into whoops and cheers as Paige rushes the podium and pulls me in for a hug. “I’m so proud of you,” she says. Tears spring to my eyes as the weight of my secret evaporates.
“That explains the long hours in that window seat. Does Miles know?” Lucy asks.
My cheeks heat as I recall his discovery and everything that followed. “Yeah. He found out before anyone else did, actually.”
The rest of the meeting devolves into a round of twenty questions, and I have to insist on a different book for our first book club pick, assuring them they’re more than welcome to read it when I’m long gone from this town. But for some reason, the thought of leaving all of this behind doesn’t feel freeing anymore.
Miles
Hopping down from the wraparound porch, I give our work a once over, an overwhelming sense of pride blooming in my chest. The black trimmings stand out against the stark white vertical siding, and the warm wood accents on the pillars add the perfect rustic touch to the sprawlingfarmhouse that now sits to the left of the newly erected fencing beyond where the horses are grazing in the field.
Ivy stands in awe, one hand casually draped over her growing belly as she rests her head on Luca’s shoulder. “I’ll let y’all have a moment.” Patting Luca on the shoulder, I head back to my truck. There’s still a lot of work to do on the interior before the baby arrives, but I’m proud of what we’ve accomplished in the short time we’ve been working on it. It’s been priority number one since Ivy decided to take the land the Hayes family had set aside in her name. A few short months ago, Luca came to me with a rough blueprint and a list of Ivy’s demands, intent on making his woman’s wildest dreams come true, and we ran with it.
Not to be outdone, Rylin came to me with a list of her own requirements. She had on her pink tool belt and hard hat, a list of her requirements scribbled in crayon fisted in her tiny hand, and you better believe Uncle Miles delivered.
