Stay With Me: A Best Friend’s Brother Small Town Romance (Sugarland Creek Book 2)

PRESENT DAY, TWO AND A HALF YEARS LATER

“Have a mag-nificent day!” I emphasize the mag part that matches my name, then smile wide as Mrs. Hollis grabs her latte and places a five-dollar bill in the tip jar.

“Thanks, Magnolia. You too.” She winks, then gives me the same warm smile I’ve known all my life since she’s my best friend’s mom.

Every Tuesday and Friday, I park my mobile coffee business, Magnolia’s Morning Mocha at the Sugarland Creek Ranch and Equine Retreat to sell frou-frou drinks to the workers and guests. On the other days, I serve downtown, depending on what other events are happening. I stick to the touristy areas, then on Saturdays, I move to the farmer’s market and work the morning rush of shoppers looking for fresh veggies and flowers. They love to get their caffeine boost before leaving, and I love being my own boss instead of working at my old coffee shop where Mrs. Blanche underpaid and undervalued my ideas.

Now, I get to write cute board signs like Pay with cash and it’s free #GirlMath and make bougie lattes. It’s the best job in the world.

The most popular drink is the number thirteen: The Swiftie Latte, which has mocha and hazelnut syrups. Then I top it with whipped cream and chocolate drizzle. It’s Mallory’s favorite, which is why she begged me to name it after her favorite pop star. She’s Mrs. Hollis’s thirteen-year-old niece who moved in with them after her parents passed away a few years ago, and since Noah’s my best friend, she’s become like a little sister to me, too.

“Mornin’, gorgeous.” Landen’s thick drawl snaps me out of my thoughts, and I immediately perk up.

Tripp stands next to him with his arms crossed and rolls his eyes at Landen’s over-the-top flirting. I’d eventually admitted to Landen that I had a crush on Tripp and since he treats me like an annoying little sister, Landen likes to put on a show anytime Tripp’s around for pure amusement.

Hell, it’s what he gets for all the mixed signals he sends me. Years of hoping he’d finally see me as more than his little sister’s best friend.

Not that I blame him one hundred percent. Stupid me took my ex back shortly after Landen’s and my date, but I finally broke up with Travis for good two years ago after he drugged Noah and me at my birthday party. We were on and off again through high school and shortly after graduation, but never again. Now, I’m thriving and living my best life with my own business, ready to focus on my future.

“Good mornin’, gentlemen.” I smirk, glancing between them. They’re wearing Wranglers, boots, and worn-out ballcaps. I prefer cowboy hats, but they only wear those when they’re riding on hot days. It helps the sun stay off their necks and faces, but it feeds my fantasy of a real-life Rip Wheeler. Now that it’s October, the hot days are few and far between.

“Well, it is now.” Landen winks.

I know he’s only playing around—it’s something we do—but Tripp’s annoyance never goes unnoticed. If he has a problem with men flirting with me, then he should do something about it instead of staying just friends.

“What can I get ya?” I lean my elbows on the counter. It’s not very big since the trailer was built for one person, but it gets the job done. There had to be room for a decent espresso maker, a fridge, syrups, and all the supplies that come with serving drinks.

“I’ll take a number sixty-nine with extra cream,” Landen says, pulling out his wallet.

Folding my arms, I shake my head. “Does that line actually work for you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he muses, and I give him a pointed look so he’ll tell me what he actually wants. “I’ll take a regular coffee with two creams and one sugar.”

“And for you?” I direct my attention to Tripp, who’s burning a hole in the side of Landen’s head.

“Same for me,” Tripp grumbles.

I grab two large cups and pour the coffee. Then I add in the creams, a packet of sugar in each, and sprinkle cinnamon on top—my signature ingredient for the upcoming holidays.

“That’ll be ten dollars,” I say, setting down their cups.

“For two coffees?” Landen asks.

“Yeah, but I threw in the attitude for free.” I smirk.

They know I’m overcharging, but they won’t call me out. Being their little sister’s best friend and an honorary Hollis means I get to charge double. I took out a business loan to buy the trailer and supplies, so I have to pay it back somehow, and what better way than to make them pay extra.

“This better be the best damn coffee I’ve ever tasted.” Landen slaps down a twenty and Tripp takes one of the cups.

“I’ve never had a complaint.” I take the money and put it into my register without handing back any change. “Thanks for the tip.”

“That better get me a free coffee next time.” Landen points a warning finger at me.

I point one right back. “That’s for that sixty-nine comment.”

He rolls his eyes, testing his drink.

“Why’s this taste like Christmas in a cup?” Tripp asks after taking a sip.

“I may have added a little somethin’ extra.”

Landen tries his next. “Mm. I like it.”

“I knew you’d like the cinnamon. It’s my fav⁠—”

“Cinnamon? I’m allergic!” Landen starts coughing and a wave of panic rises up my throat.

I rush out of the trailer and toward him, panicking at his struggle to breathe.

“Why…why’re you tryin’ to kill me?” Landen gasps as if he can’t suck in enough air.

“I didn’t know!”

Landen hands his cup to Tripp, who just stands there, unfazed. Why isn’t he doing something?

“What do I do?” I shout as Landen’s face turns red. “Oh my God.”

Landen points to his lips. “Mouth to mouth…” he manages to spit out.

Tripp snorts, grabbing my attention, and that’s when I realize Landen’s a lying sack of shit.

No wonder Tripp isn’t reacting.

I shove his chest with all the strength I have, but he only moves back an inch. “Mouth to mouth, huh? How about knee to balls?”

Landen squirms back, out of my reach, and covers his junk. “Damn, okay. Don’t be threatenin’ the jewels. I wanna have kids someday.”

Stomping closer, I smack his arm. “You made me think I killed you!”

He grabs my wrists, holding me tight to his body, and leans down until his mouth is near my ear. “I was tryin’ to help you out. Figured Tripp would lose his shit if he saw you kiss me.”

I pull back slightly and catch his devious smirk.

Ever since I told him I liked Tripp, he’s found ways to try to make him jealous by openly flirting with me. But apparently, he thought we needed to take it to the next level.

“At this rate, I don’t think it’s gonna happen,” I say quietly so Tripp can’t overhear.

“It will once he gets his head outta his ass.” He gives me a look that hints at what he’s talking about. Between losing his best friend seven years ago and dealing with internal guilt, Tripp’s primary focus has been work. He dated in between the times I was with Travis, but he’s never had a long-term girlfriend. It’s like he refuses to allow himself happiness no matter how much he deserves it.

“Can you two make up later so we can get back to work?” Tripp’s annoyed tone has me taking a step back.

I arch a brow at Landen. “See?”

He gives his head a little shake, then grabs his cup from Tripp.

“See ya later, Mags,” Landen calls out as they walk toward his truck.

Tripp stays silent, but a few moments later, I catch him glancing at me over his shoulder.

Nothing reminds me of how single I am more than watching my best friend plan her dream wedding.

I’m happy as shit for her and Fisher, but goddamn, some of us are ready to be God’s chosen one for once.

Dear Lord, would it kill you to send me a six-foot-three-tall cowboy with dark hair, brooding eyes, and a free use kink? I’m not askin’ for much here…

“Can you go with my brothers to their suit fitting? My dad has a meetin’ that day, and I need someone to keep their asses in line.” Noah gives me a pleading look through the mirror, brushing her wet, long, golden blond hair.

“And where will you be?” I tease, lying on her bed and flipping through one of her bridal magazines.

She tosses me her planner, and as soon as I read through it, I regret asking. The monthly spreadsheet is covered in ink. Not that I’m surprised because Noah’s a professional horse trainer and doesn’t know how to take a damn day off—except when she fractured her ankle and broke some ribs, then she was forced to. But she hated every minute of it. Hell, I wouldn’t be shocked if she worked the morning of her wedding just to get a few hours in before the ceremony.

“Fine, I’ll go. Just tell me when and where.” I skim through a few more pages of gowns and destination honeymoon landscape photos before stopping to admire a gorgeous dress covered in lace.

I came over after work since she had a gap in her schedule and Fisher was still working. It’s rare I get her to myself since the lovebirds are attached to each other’s hips, so I took full advantage when she texted and asked me to come over.

“Friday, two o’clock at Murphy’s.”

I pause. That’s in three days.

But she’s my best friend, and as her maid of honor, I can’t say no to her.

“Got it.” I program it into my phone calendar, then ask, “Anything else comin’ up? I wanna make sure I don’t miss it.”

She’s been planning this wedding since they got engaged four months ago. Now they’re only one month out and close to the wire of getting the final touches done.

“Final dress fitting is in two weeks, so if you’re gonna lose or gain weight, do it now or prepare to suck in your gut.”

I snort at the memory of our last fitting. “I told the seamstress to make it super tight. The girls will be on proper display.” Sitting up, I wave a hand over my chest and arch my back.

Noah shoots me a glare, but the corner of her lips curls up, so I know she’s not mad.

“What?” I shrug. “I haven’t been laid in over a year. Sue me.”

“Over a year? Goddamn.”

“Tell me about it. I’m desperate.”

“No, you’re not. You’re beautiful, smart, funny, and a successful businesswoman. Any man would be fuckin’ lucky to have you. Don’t you dare settle for anything less than perfection.”

“Not any man…” I murmur.

“Tripp’s dealin’ with his issues and one day he’s gonna realize what a good thing he missed when you’re plannin’ your dream wedding. It’ll be too late, and he’ll have to wallow in his consequences.”

It’s not that I haven’t tried with Tripp. I’ve given him so many signs throughout the years about how I’m interested in him, but there comes a certain point where I have to protect my dignity and stop chasing a man who doesn’t want to get caught.

At this rate, it’s just embarrassing.

I’ve tried to accept it and move on, but my heart still flutters like a teen girl crushing over a boy in middle school. If he’d stop stealing glances and staring at my lips like he wanted a taste, I’d believe he didn’t want me, too.

For whatever reason, he just won’t allow himself to give in to what we both want.

“Have you started writin’ your speech?” she asks.

“I have to give a speech?” My brows rise to my hairline.

“You’re my maid of honor, so yes. Damien will give a best man speech, and then you’ll give yours.”

I grab my phone and click on my notes app that’s filled with other silly moments, then start typing out more with a chuckle. “This is gonna be so good. You’ll be sorry you reminded me.”

“Magnolia…”

Her warning tone doesn’t scare me.

“This is twenty years of friendship in the makin’. All the dumb shit we’ve done and have been through. It’s gonna be the most epic speech.”

“It’s supposed to be about me and Fisher,” she reminds me, but I wave her off.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll throw some of that lovey-dovey soulmates crap in there, too. But the real fun will be all the embarrassing shit you did before you met him.”

She walks off with a groan. “You’re fired.”

“You wish you could…” I taunt. “Now, should I begin with the nipple piercing story or the time you got drunk and begged a random guy on the street to tattoo your ass?”

“MAGNOLIA!” she screeches from the bathroom.

“Is that your orgasm scream? Goddamn, I felt that one all the way downtown. No wonder Fisher was obsessed with you since the first night.”

A hairbrush comes flying past my head and smacks the wall behind me.

“Missed,” I muse, unfazed by her chucking things at me.

“You won’t miss my boot up your ass if there’s anything I haven’t approved beforehand.”

“Can I at least mention the first time you rode the mechanical bull and face-planted on the mat afterward?” I quirk a brow, and she shoots me a glare from the doorway. “Hey, it’s that or when you went to buy condoms for the first time, then tripped and the entire display collapsed to the floor. Pick your poison.”

She groans, stalking toward me with a scowl. “I hate that you know all my embarrassing stories.”

“Bestie privilege!”

She opens her closet and rummages through her options. “Just remember, whatever you say about me, I’ll get you back twice as much when it’s your turn.”

“Go ahead. We’ll be eighty before that happens, and both suffer from memory loss anyway.”

“Remember when we were like thirteen and promised to get pregnant at the same time so our kids could grow up together?”

I laugh at the random question. “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure we were also supposed to marry brothers so we could become sisters. You ruined our plans.”

“If I recall, you’re the one who told me to go talk to Fisher at the rodeo. So you only have yourself to blame.”

“How was I supposed to know he didn’t have a hot, younger brother for me?” I scoff. “And since I can’t marry one of your brothers, we’re never gonna be sisters now.”

“I have four brothers, so never say never.”

“Tripp doesn’t want me, and I already went on a date with Landen, so that leaves me with the double-trouble twins? Don’t think so.” I pause, quirking up the corner of my lips. “Although…”

“No,” she says firmly. “They’re definitely not ready to settle down.”

“I could change that…”

Noah snorts, finally pulling out the clothes she wants to wear. “Says every woman they sleep with.”

I fall back on her bed, groaning. “Well, don’t wait for me to get pregnant, then. Go get knocked up, and I’ll just be the cool aunt who gives them money and candy.”

She throws a blanket over me, making the room go dark.

“You have plenty of time, drama queen.”

“If I’m gonna die sad and alone, just start sizin’ me for my coffin now.” I stretch out my legs and arms. “But make it comfy and spring for the high-thread-count pillow.”

“If you don’t stop wallowin’, I’m draggin’ your ass to the Twisted Bull”—she whips off the blanket, hovering above me—“and makin’ you ride the mechanical bull.”

“It’d take a keg and a half to get me on that thing.”

“Don’t tempt me.” She grabs my hand and yanks me to my feet. “Now c’mon. I’m takin’ you for food. Maybe that’ll fix your hangry attitude.”