Page 55 of Wallflower
He grimaces and rubs the back of his neck. “Hockey has been my life since I was a kid, and it was always going to be that way until I had to retire. So, I left Silver Leaf to Charlie and Dylan, knowing I’d come back when the time was right—for me. I never thought about how that might hurt my family. She accused me of trying to give her money to soothe a guilty conscience. Like I’ve been trying to buy my way back into the family, and the truth is, I never gave it that much thought.”
My brow creases with puzzlement, and Chord shakes his head with a self-mocking smirk. “You were thinking for a minute there that all this wine made me some sort of selfless hero, right? I’m not. I’ve been too self-absorbed to lose sleep about not being on the ranch when my family needed me. It’s just the way things had to be. I knew the business was struggling, and my money was the fastest way to solve the problem. It was the only way I ever thought to help.”
“Oh, Chord.”
I drop my eyes to hide my dismay, but Chord lifts my face with his fingers on my chin. “I know it was wrong, and Charlie said something last night that turned everything on its head.‘At least you know you made Mom and Dad proud,’she told me, and itcut like a skate to the wrist. That’s all she’s been trying to do—make our parents proud on her own terms, in her own way, off of her own power. And I get that. I get that so much.”
He glances around at the wine. “I’ve undermined her by lying about the money all this time, and I’m an idiot for not taking the time to ask questions sooner. To make the effort to understand.”
His throat bobs in a swallow, and I bite the inside of my cheek as I watch the subtle changes in his expression. There’s doubt and regret, and I sense that he’s not used to either.
“You did this because you love her,” I tell him. “You love your family, and you love the ranch. This was the way you knew to show it.”
Chord stares at me for a moment before pulling me against his chest and wrapping his arms around me. I loop my arms around his waist as he sets his chin on my head and sighs. With my cheek against his chest, I breathe him in and close my eyes. This moment—our first real embrace—will stay with me forever.
“Why are you showing me this, Chord?” I ask. “What can I do?”
Chord hesitates before he replies. “The way you talk about your dad and the sacrifices you’ve made to care for him in real, honest ways… It’s made me think about things differently. Made me hope that things could be different with Charlie and me.”
Real, honest ways.Something about those words makes my throat tighten. I love my dad, and I’d do anything for him—including hiding my truth to protect him.
I’ve never told him I hate my career. I’ve never confessed how desperately I want to quit every job I’ve ever had so I could intern with design houses the way my peers did. He doesn’t know that I dream about moving to Paris or London and living on my own. Dad doesn’t know that every time I sketch Mom’s dress, I imagine myself wearing it and living a life that feelsimpossible. One where I don’t have to choose between duty and dreams. One where love lasts forever.
I breathe slowly through a pang of sadness. Dad has always supported my dreams to design. I could have told him all my hopes and fears years ago. My salary and health insurance and his unemployment and depression… None of that should have held me back. My sense of responsibility got in my way because I let it.
The truth hits me square in the chest, but I can’t examine it too closely right now. Chord is obviously on the cusp of a profound personal discovery, and I want to be present for him.
“So, what do you want to do?” I ask.
“I need to tell Charlie the truth, and I need to let her stand on her own two feet. And then, I have to hope that by putting it all on the table and removing any tension between us, she’ll trust me enough to ask for help. When it happens, I need to show up. No questions, no excuses. I’ll be there.”
He sounds so confident, with the tone of a man who makes a plan, executes it well, and always achieves his goal. I have no doubt that he’ll make it happen because when has the world ever told Chord Davenportno?
My thoughts trail away as I become hyper-aware of the way Chord grows still. His fingers ghost over my body until he finds his favored place on my chin, but when he tips up my face, it’s different than all the other times before. His blue eyes are warm with desire, his throat bobs in a deep swallow, and as his gaze falls to my mouth, he moves a little closer. This time, Iknowhe’s going to kiss me.
My hands find their way into his hair. “Chord?” I whisper. Like a promise. Like a prayer.
The moment between—the hover, the hesitation—is divine and endless until the instant his lips meet mine. And then…fireworks.
It’s been a long time since I’ve kissed anyone, but Chord takes the lead. He cradles my head, angling me so he can explore my mouth the way he wants to before he pulls back and brushes his lips, so warm and gentle, back and forth against mine. He teases my mouth open again with a hint of his tongue that I desperately chase with my own. I feel the grin on his mouth, and it snaps the last thread of reserve I have in me.
I press myself against his chest and grip his t-shirt with two fists as our kiss turns frantic. His lips tug at mine, and his tongue sweeps a little deeper, inviting me to reciprocate. And I do. I kiss him until I’m breathless and can barely stand, gripping his shirt like it’s the only thing holding me up.
Oh, God. I could kiss him like this forever.
Chord’s the first one to pull away, though he continues to cradle my face. “Violet James,” he says, thumbs caressing my cheekbones as he stares into my eyes. “Wallflower. What the hell have you done to me?”
“I haven’t done any—”
“Yes. You have.” He drops his forehead to mine and closes his eyes. “I don’t know how you do it, Wallflower, but you make me want to be a better man.”
twenty-four
Chord
66 DAYS TILL HOCKEY SEASON
We finish at thewarehouse later than expected, so I reschedule the appointment with my accountant, and we head back to the ranch earlier than planned. I hold Violet’s hand every single second of the drive home, and we spend most of it talking about how I’m going to tell Charlie—and everyone else—about the wine.
