Page 73 of Wallflower
I feign an offended snort. “You want to bet?”
Violet covers her smile with one hand as Izzy scowls and sticks out her little hand. “A million bucks says the girls win.”
I pretend to frown back as I shake on it. “Done.”
Izzy wriggles out of my arms and runs over to Dylan. “Dad! Guess what? We’re going to be rich!”
Violet laughs, and I draw her to me, wrapping her up and clasping her wrists at the small of her back. “You think I’m joking? I’ll bet you a million bucks too. You know I’m good for it.”
“But I’m not. If the boys’ team wins, what will I give you?”
I dip my head to her ear. “Oh, Wallflower. I’ll think of something.”
We’re interrupted by the sound of someone clearing his throat, and when I realize it’s Violet’s father, I stand straighter.
I’ve spent a little time with Luke over the twelve days he’s been on the ranch—passing him in my kitchen when he’s there for coffee with Violet, discussing the state of the fences when I’m available to help with repairs—and so far, our interactions have been friendly.
He’s aware that I’m dating his daughter and, according to Violet, he supports the idea because it makes her so happy. But his brown eyes, so much like Violet’s, are a little guarded tonight.It might be my guilty conscience talking, but I wonder if he saw the pictures of Violet and me almost naked in the lake.
“Luke,” I say, extending my hand. “It’s good to see you again.”
He nods and gives Violet a quick kiss on the cheek before accepting my handshake. “It’s nice to see you too, Chord. Thank you for inviting me tonight.”
“Of course. We’re happy to have you.”
He gives me a small smile, then tips his head toward Izzy and Daisy, who are fussing with the last preparations for the game night—testing the whiteboard markers, shifting the angles of the boards, setting up the game on the coffee table, Izzy studiously examining the dice.
“I didn’t realize this was so serious,” says Luke. “Little Isobel has read me the rules twice already.” He chuckles dryly and shakes his head. “I’m starting to get nervous.”
“I’d say it’ll be fun, but Izzy’s a tiny tyrant,” I reply, only half-joking. “I live for competition, but even I’m starting to sweat.”
“That might be because you’ve got a million dollars riding on your drawing skills,” Violet teases.
Luke’s eyes widen. “A million dollars!”
I scowl at Violet and pretend to be irritated when in fact, I love this side of her. She gives me an impish grin, then her dad a sheepish shrug, which makes him laugh, and I conclude that Violet’s growing confidence is because she feels more comfortable with her father around. Maybe it’s even her growing familiarity with Isobel. I let myself hope it’s also a little bit about me.
Izzy appears at my hip, takes my hand, and yanks hard, but not hard enough to move me.
“What are you doing, Iz?”
She grunts with effort as she tugs. “You’re a boy. You have to—come—over—here.”
Violet play-shoves my shoulder. “You heard her, and don’t worry. I’m sure my drawing skills arenothingcompared to yours, Mr. Hotshot Hockey Player. Your million dollars is safe.”
Violet flutters her lashes, then blushes prettily when I laugh out loud in surprise at the way she’s teasing. “Oh, it’s on, Wallflower.”
Her blush deepens as Izzy tows me away.
My niece starts barking orders, corralling Finn, Dylan, Luke, and me onto the long sofa on the far side of the room. As soon as her head is turned, Finn gives her the slip and reappears with a couple of cold beers just as Daisy throws a balled-up napkin at my head and waves hello. She’s already ensconced on the opposite, smaller sofa with Violet snug against her side, and something clicks open in my chest at the picture of them together.
Charlie walks in from the kitchen and shoves a bowl of Pretzel M&M’s in my hands before crossing to the other side of the room and squishing onto the girls’ couch. I consider breaking rank to say thanks or hello orsomething, but before I get the chance, Izzy blows a silver whistle that’s going to get really old real soon.
“Where the fuck did she find that?” Finn mutters.
Dylan elbows him hard enough to make him grunt, but then he sighs. “No freaking clue. There’s a free dinner in it for you if you can make it disappear.”
Finn snorts—Dylan’s dinners are a given any night at The Hill—but he says, “On it.”
