The Merriest Magnolia (Magnolia Sisters #2) - Michelle Major Page 0,51
in the day. Hell, I’m not the same person, either.”
“We all grow up eventually. People like Kevin grow up to be jerks. Hopefully, he’ll take this as a wake-up call and do the right thing with his son. Gray vouched for you, and that means a lot.”
“Thanks.” Dylan looked to where a cluster of firefighters stood next to the red truck. It had been a long time since he’d wanted or needed someone to vouch for him. His uncle and his cousin had been the people closest to him, so since the accident he’d felt as much like an orphan as Sam.
Magnolia might be his hometown, but he hadn’t exactly received a warm welcome back. It did funny, uncomfortable things to his insides to know that Gray had spoken up for him.
“Thanks again,” he told the officer then headed toward the car. He waved to Gray as he passed and received an understanding nod in response.
Processing the events of today was going to take some time. Dylan wasn’t big into being insightful. His success in life had come from taking action and never slowing down.
But that attitude obviously wasn’t going to work with Sam and nothing else was as important as the boy.
* * *
“PIZZA’S HERE,” CARRIE SAID when Dylan opened the door to his house later that night.
He stared at her. “Is pizza delivery your side hustle?”
She shook her head. “I got here at the same time as the kid delivering your order so since I was coming up the walk anyway, I tipped him and sorry I didn’t call first. I was just so worried and...” She gulped in a breath, embarrassment heating her cheeks. “I’m babbling. Take the pizza. You probably want privacy. I can go. I’m glad Sam’s okay and if you need—”
She broke off as Dylan leaned in and kissed her, taking the cardboard box from her hands in the same movement.
“What was that for?” she asked, pressing her fingertips to her lips.
“Thanks for calling me about the accident. And for the pizza delivery.” Dylan offered a slow half smile that had warmth spreading through her. “Come on in.”
She followed him through the house to the kitchen, where Sam sat at the table, a sketch pad in front of him.
“Hey, buddy,” she said quietly.
He glanced up, his gaze both wary and remorseful. “Do you hate me, too?”
“No one hates you,” Dylan muttered, placing the pizza box on the table. “Hell, I gave you a hug.”
Sam rolled his eyes with an enthusiasm only teenagers could manage. “Then you grounded me forever and told me I have to pay for the damage to your stupid, fancy car.” The boy reached down to pet Daisy, who sat at his feet. “It wasn’t me who chewed up the seats.”
“I grounded you until the New Year,” Dylan clarified, “which is not the same thing as forever. And the reason the dog went berserk is because she was crazy with worry about you.”
“We were all worried.” Carrie started to reach out and muss the boy’s hair then stopped herself. He wasn’t a kid and he didn’t belong to her. Maybe she couldn’t help it if she’d quickly come to care about him, but she had to remember that her role in both Dylan and Sam’s lives was on the periphery. “I don’t hate you. Dylan doesn’t, either. His go-to emotion is anger, so if he’s angry it means he cares.”
“That’s messed up,” Sam mumbled.
“Not as messed up as going joyriding with a bunch of loser kids who’d been drinking.”
“I thought you were done with the lecturing.” Sam flipped the page on his sketchbook when Carrie tried to take a closer look.
“He also seems hungry.” Carrie slid into a chair across from Sam. “He’s always grumpy when he’s hungry.”
“Tell me again why you stopped over,” Dylan said, deadpan, as he grabbed a stack of paper plates from the counter.
“Because I care,” Carrie answered without thinking.
Sam looked up at her, his eyes narrowed in concentration. Dylan paused, drawing in a sharp breath.
She’d shocked both of them. Herself as well, but she didn’t mind at the moment.
They needed someone or something to shock them out of their dispirited rut.
Dylan cleared his throat. “I hope you like pepperoni.”
“My favorite.”
“Can I get you something to drink?”
“I’ll have a Monster,” Sam said.
“You’ll have water,” Dylan corrected.
“I’m fifteen. I can choose for myself.”
“I’ll have water, too,” Carrie announced.
“Three waters it is,” Dylan said with a nod.
Sam rolled his eyes again, but Carrie could see his small smile.