Page 45 of Whirlwind

“You’re very welcome. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

“I know it is.”

I did. I trusted her.

When I’d spotted her shoving through the crowd in front of the strip club, heard the edge in her voice, something had clicked for me. She was frustrated, pissed off, like I’d been that week.

Violet had always been a live wire, that I knew from what little I’d seen of her the few times I’d visited Meager over the years or from stories from Wes. And, of course, from that special night in the back of Pete’s.

That night at the Tingle, I’d charged toward her, hurling myself forward out of the quicksand of my self-loathing. My diving into her hurricane and her accidental punch—that eruption of pain had felt fucking good.

Her getting on my bike, choosing to be with me, even better.

I’d made a decision, a choice, and so had Violet. We’d both grabbed the night by the fucking balls and made the most of it.

“You’re back in L.A., right?” she asked. “How’s it going?”

“Okay. I’m looking at houses right now.”

“Oh, you’re adulting?”

“Trying to. I need to move out of my dad’s pool house.”

“His pool house?” She let out husky laugh which went straight to my dick. “Yeah, I’d say it was time. How’s the house you’re looking at?”

“Grand mountain view with a sliver of lake from a huge window in a big bedroom suite. And there’s a round bed in it, like it’s a Vegas hotel room.”

“Round, huh?” Her voice got lower, breathy, and my body flared with heat at the memory of that voice in my ear urging me to take her, the memory of her hot hands stroking my chest, sliding down my abs, her mouth taking in my cock and swallowing it as her hands gripped my ass. The perfume of her. Her body shuddering in my embrace when she came. Her holding me, her cunt squeezing my throbbing dick when I came. I took in a breath willing my cock to lay low in my jeans.Get a grip, Beck.

“Hold on.” I took a pic of the bed, the view, and sent them to her.

“Wow,” she said. “That is some view. You’re one lucky guy. And that bed is huge…you could have a party on that bed, Mr. Rockstar.”

“I could.”With you.I leaned my hot forehead against the cool wall. “What are you up to right now?”

“I’m looking at a house too.”

“You are? You buying?”

“No, no. It’s my mother’s family’s old house here in Meager, where my great-grandparents lived and many Dillons before them. I like to stop by and see it every now and again, photograph it in different kinds of light. Actually, Isi grew up in this house.”

“Really?”

“Want some Meager trivia?”

“Sure.”

“Our ancestor, Jeremiah Dillon who built this house was an underground mover and shaker. He not only owned the town’s first general store back in the gold rush in the late 1870s, but he also ran a secret gambling den on the second floor of the store and invested in a brothel, too. ”

I chuckled. “Sounds like he knew what his community wanted.”

“And he provided. He did really well for himself. and when he married the love of his life, he built this grand house. When my mom was in high school, Gigi and her brother, my Great-Uncle Ryan inherited the house, but months later had to sell it. Taxes and upkeep were all too much. The new owners had a big family and really cherished the house. They still live here which is nice.” She let out a laugh. “It’s a little different from your trendy L.A. pad. No mountain vistas or lake here, but there are evergreens and granite hills in the distance.”

“Send me a pic.”

“Hold on.”

The photo came through. “Whoa!” A big three story Victorian era house with a steeply pitched roof, a gable, and a turret. A big porch wrapped around one end of the blue house. A whiff of grandness from another era. A mansion of vintage Meager. “Violet…”

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