Page 28 of Wallflower
I change arms and lean into the burn shooting through the muscle. “I would if I knew where to start.”
He shakes his head and walks through the unlocked screen door. I follow, holding the door open for Dakota to amble through after us, then move fast to catch the bottle of water that smacks me square in the chest.
“She’s our sister,” he says. “Start anywhere you like, keep going until she bites, and don’t let her push you around.”
“I wish it were that easy.” I huff out a dry chuckle, but I think about it as I take a long swallow of water. “Has she… said anything about me?”
The look he gives me is wry. “She doesn’t have to. You know the problem. She knows the problem. We all know the problem, and we want you two to fix it.”
He punches my arm as he passes me on his way to the sofa, then launches himself over the back of it, points the remote at the television, and starts flicking through his streaming service. Dakota shadows him, and when she heaves herself up next to him, he shifts to make room for her alongside his thigh.
Finn’s right. I know the problem. I just don’t know how to solve it.
Charlie’s stuck on the idea that I haven’t done enough to earn my place here. I spent my childhood focused on becoming the next NHL prodigy while she was being groomed to take over the family business. It’s a job that would have gone to me had it not been for hockey, and although I know she loves Silver Leaf and probably wouldn’t have it any other way, it doesn’t change thefact that I got to chase my dreams while she was here doing the grunt work and carrying the burden of Mom and Dad’s legacy.
It won’t be easy, but I’m going to prove that Silver Leaf means as much to me as it does to her. And if she won’t accept a dime of my money, I’ll just put my blood, sweat, and tears into this place the same way she has. Why else would I be out there every damn day fixing fences with my bare hands?
“Thanks for the run, bro.” I clap Finn on the shoulder. “Same time tomorrow?”
He doesn’t look up. “You bet.”
I walk out while he’s still channel surfing.
I start the run back to my house, easing a little on the pace as I round the last bend, then stopping altogether as I spot movement on the back porch.
It’s her. A short, fast flicker of frustration has me narrowing my eyes at her distant silhouette.
I’m not irritated with her. I’m pissed at myself. Hiring Violet as my assistant was supposed to be the easy option. A wallflower who’d never hit on me. Someone I wouldn’t look at twice. But ever since she got here, I can’tstoplooking, and I’m losing the will to keep my distance.
What was that I said about my focus, discipline, strength, self-control? I snort quietly to myself. My most prized values might as well line the floor at this woman’s feet because instead of doing the smart thing and going around the front, I run straight to her.
I take the porch steps two at a time and stand back while she paces at the other end of the white wooden deck, talking on the phone with her head bent and voice quiet.
Whatever it is looks serious, and maybe now would be a good time to disappear, but I edge closer, seduced by the way her tee lifts on the side with her raised arm, exposing the narrowest strip of smooth pale skin.
Violet’s absorbed enough in her conversation that she doesn’t feel my eyes on her, doesn’t notice me even when I lean into another round of stretches. And I’m so fixated on her that I don’t notice the other phone on the long outdoor table until it rings with an incoming call and skitters across the top. Violet shoots it a harried look over her shoulder, but when she sees me, her brows shoot up, and she starts blinking.
“Jen?” she says into the phone. “Thanks for the chat, but I have to go. I’ll text you tonight after I talk to him.”
Him? Who’shim? A boyfriend? Violet glances at me once and away again, her throat bobbing in a nervous swallow, and I smooth the irritation from my face.
The phone on the table, which had just fallen silent, screams again. I’m frustrated by how badly I want to talk to her right now, and I don’t care that it’s none of my business, so I pick it up to see who’s bugging Violet—and, by extension, bugging me. It’s not a boyfriend, but the name flashing irritates me all the same.Courtney Reynolds.
“I’m sorry.” Violet accepts the phone from my outstretched hand while tucking the other into the back of her shorts. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your morning…”
Her face falls as she sees the name on the screen, and when the call cuts off, I move closer to make out the notification that says she’s got two missed calls and two unread texts. All from Courtney.
“Shoot,” Violet whispers. “She’s going to be so mad.”
“Courtney?”
I cross my arms over my chest and keep my tone cool. I’m only too capable and too happy to take care of any issues she has with that woman.
“Yes.” Violet licks her lips, tongue sweeping out in a way that makes my dick pay attention, but she waves away her worry like it’s nothing. “I’ll call her back now. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“And the other thing?”
I’m a demanding bastard, but I’ve always known that about myself.
