In the kitchen, Violet had her head buried in her refrigerator. She seemed to be wrestling with something.
“You need some help?”
“Nope.” Her voice was muffled. “Just grabbing this.” She emerged with one arm wrapped around a large bowl that looked like it was about to plunge to the floor. “Well, maybe a little help.”
He dashed across the room and scooped it out of her hand right as she lost her grip.
It smelled divine. “What is it?”
“Pasta salad. I made it last night.”
He ogled her. “You made it? With one hand?”
She shrugged. “Once you learn to maneuver a knife right-handed, it’s not so hard.”
He shook his head. “Have you always been so―”
She watched him expectantly as he broke off. “So . . . ?”
He searched for a word. “Uh, determined?”
She laughed and pointed a finger at him. “That’s not what you were going to say.”
He let himself be pulled in. “No, but it was the safer thing to say.”
She smacked his arm as she walked past him out the door. “Well, to answer your question, yes, I’ve always been so stubborn.”
“Good to know.”
He followed her to her car, trying not to notice how her white shirt highlighted her creamy skin and dark hair. Or how her floral scent drifted over him, fitting right into the summery evening.
He shook his head. What was the matter with him?
As she got into the driver’s seat, he stowed the pasta salad in the back, then slipped into the passenger side.
“You can relax.” Violet raised an eyebrow as she backed out of the parking spot. “Most of my friends don’t eat people.”
He let himself smile and eased his fisted hands open. “So, this friend of yours makes good hamburgers, huh?”
They kept the banter light as Violet navigated the city streets. Ten minutes later, she drove into the parking lot of a large church. There were three other cars in the lot, although the building itself was dark.
Nate’s stomach tightened. What kind of bait and switch was this? “Your friend lives at a church?”
Violet pointed to a two-story brick house next door. “It’s easier to park here.”
“Ah.” The tension in Nate’s shoulders eased a little, but he still felt like a shock wave had gone through him. He hadn’t been in a church since the night of the accident. And he didn’t ever plan to step foot in one again.
Violet twisted to maneuver her arm awkwardly toward the bowl in the backseat, but he grabbed her wrist to stop her. “You really are stubborn, aren’t you? I’ll get it.”
Her eyes moved to the spot where his fingers rested against her skin, and he lifted his hand. He took an extra second to grab the bowl as she stepped out of the car.
But finally he couldn’t draw it out any longer, and he had to get out, too.
His stomach lurched as he stood. This was ridiculous. He’d spent the past seven years living with felons, for heaven’s sake. How hard could it be to have dinner with a group of normal people, none of whom had probably been convicted of so much as a parking ticket.
And anyway, these people were strangers. To them, he was a blank slate, a person with no history.
Nate avoided looking toward the church as he followed Violet along the side of the house toward the backyard.
An amazing whiff of hamburgers rolled over Nate. He only hoped Violet couldn’t hear his stomach rumbling.
As they neared the corner of the house, the sound of music reached his ears.
He recognized the song immediately as “Resurrection Power.”
He’d rehearsed it a thousand times. And played it probably a hundred times on stage.
He did his best to tune it out.
The minute he rounded the corner into the backyard, he almost stopped short in his tracks. He’d expected a small group, maybe three or four people. But there had to be at least a dozen people seated around the patio, plates on their laps. A light-haired woman noticed them first, and before Nate knew what was happening, she’d run across the yard and thrown her arms around Violet.
Violet hugged her back, laughing and―was she crying, too? Nate watched in alarm. He had no idea what to do in this situation.
A dark-haired man walked up. “Don’t worry about these two. They haven’t seen each other in three weeks. There were bound to be some tears.” He extended his hand to Nate. “I’m Spencer.”
Nate shook the man’s outstretched hand. “Nate.”
The woman pulled out of Violet’s arms and held out a hand to him, too, swiping at a tear under her lash line with her other hand. “I’m Sophie. I hear we have you to thank for keeping our Violet in one piece. And saving her from a flood.”
Nate shook her hand but ducked his head.
Violet seemed to sense his discomfort. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone. Then we need some food. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
They walked closer to the patio, where everyone was talking and laughing and eating. It was such a normal scene. Like the family get-togethers his parents used to host for his birthday every year. A quiet longing took up residence behind his eyes, and he looked toward the table to clear it. A spread of food covered every surface.
“Hey, everyone.” Violet’s back was to him, but Nate could hear the smile in her voice, and it made him smile, too. “This is Nate. My neighbor.”
The conversation stopped abruptly as Violet’s friends swiveled toward him.
He tried to hold onto the smile, but his mouth had gone dry.
“Hi,” he managed to croak, lifting his hand a few inches in a lame imitation of a wave.
The man at the grill set his spatula down and approached Nate, holding out a hand. “I’m Dan. It’s nice to meet you.” Nate shook his hand, grateful for the ease with which the man accepted a stranger to his house.
“And this is the group.” Violet lifted an arm to gesture at the rest of the people there. “Ethan and Ariana.” She pointed to a couple seated together on a stone bench, then to another couple seated at a small bistro table. “And Jared and Peyton.”
“The cookie maker?”
They all laughed, and Nate relaxed a tad.
“The one and only.” Peyton offered a warm smile. “Hope you liked them. It was the least we could do after you rescued Violet like that.”
Nate dug his sandal into a crack between two patio stones. “It was no big deal.” These people had to stop treating him like some kind of hero.
“And―” Violet turned toward a small group on scattered lounge chairs. “Emma, Tyler, and Leah.”
He stared at the last woman. For some reason, she seemed familiar.
“We’ve met.” The woman jumped up from her chair and came to stand next to him as if they were old friends. “Nate was my seatmate on the bus ride back from visiting my brother in Sibley.”
Nate winced. Would they make the connection to the state penitentiary in Sibley?
“Actually, I was showing him pictures of your wedding.” She turned to Sophie. “I think he said you looked enchanting.”
Nate did a double take. He didn’t particularly remember saying anything about the wedding one way or another. And if he’d said Sophie looked enchanting, he was probably being sarcastic, since he’d had no interest in hearing about some stranger’s wedding. But Leah seemed completely sincere.
“It looked like a lovely wedding,” he finally managed to get out. He shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot.
“Well, eat up, you guys.” Dan passed him a plate, and Nate spent the next few minutes concentrating on loading it with two hamburgers, Violet’s pasta salad, homemade fries, and a pile of fruits and veggies.
Violet surveyed his heaping plate. “I guess it has been a while since you’ve had a decent meal.” Her laugh sparkled across the backyard.
Nate grinned back. It didn’t matter how awkward this night got. It had been worth
coming just for the food. “I’d take more if my plate weren’t already overflowing.”
He followed Violet to two empty chairs right in the middle of the others. As soon as they were seated, Violet set her plate down and folded her hands in her lap, eyes closed. Nate watched her for a second, then pretended not to notice what she was doing. If she wanted to thank a God who didn’t listen, that was her business.
He took a giant bite of hamburger. The flavor popped on his tongue, and he couldn’t help the “Mmm” that came out.
Next to him, Violet opened her eyes and laughed, then took her own giant bite. “Thank goodness. I was bragging up your burgers, Dan, and you lived up to the hype. Didn’t he?” Her elbow bumped at Nate’s side. He just nodded. His mouth was too full of his next bite. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had an actual meal like this.
Nate listened to the conversation jumping around him, simply enjoying the sounds of their interaction. He appreciated that no one was giving him the third degree. They simply let him eat, occasionally including him in their conversation as they told stories about their week but not demanding anything from him.
When his plate was finally empty, Peyton passed him a cookie and offered to take his plate. As she reached for it, she whispered to Violet, “You were right,” and winked.
Violet swatted at her, but a light blush crept up her neck to her cheeks, and Nate got the impression that whatever she had been right about had to do with him. It warmed him in a way he hadn’t expected.
“So, Nate.” Dan settled onto a chair across from him. “You’re from Sibley?”
The food in his stomach congealed at the question. He was going to have to step carefully here. “Not originally. I grew up in Wescott, which is about an hour west of Sibley.”
“I love the western part of the state. All those bluffs and valleys along the river.”
“Yeah.” Nate didn’t know what else to say. He longed to go home to see his mom and sister, but other than that, the area had no appeal for him anymore. He shoved the last of his cookie into his mouth, hoping Dan didn’t have any more questions for him.
“So what brought you to Hope Springs?” Dan’s voice was entirely friendly, without a hit of suspicion.
“My father owns a large investment firm. They bought out a property management place here, and he wanted me to get things up and running.”
“I work with my dad, too. Just started recently. It’s nice, isn’t it?” Dan looked thoughtful. “Though it is a bit of an adjustment.”
Nate almost snorted, but he managed to force a short nod instead. Adjustment was an understatement.
“How long have you worked with your dad? Got any advice on how to make it easier?”
This time he did snort. “I’m the last person who could give you advice. I’ve only been working for my dad a couple weeks, and I’m not sure how I’ll survive much longer.”
Dan nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Well, I’ll let you know if I figure anything out.”
Nate thought Dan would get up then, but he settled farther into his chair. “So what’d you do before you worked for your dad?”
Nate grabbed his water bottle and took a long swig to buy time. He scrambled to come up with a lie. Any lie. This was why he didn’t go out, didn’t talk to people. Eventually, people weren’t content to let you be a stranger without a history anymore. They wanted to know about your past―and they didn’t care if you didn’t want to tell about it.
When he couldn’t come up with a convincing lie, he settled on a half-truth. “A little bit of everything.” He’d taken his rotation in the laundry room, kitchen, and other duties. Not that he’d had a choice.
“Okay, everyone.” Sophie stood, and everyone’s attention swung to her. “I have honeymoon pictures. Let’s go inside, and I’ll show them on Dan’s TV.”
Nate let out a relieved breath. He may not have any desire to see honeymoon pictures from two people he’d just met, but if it got him out of talking about his own past, he was all for it.
They all stood and grabbed platters and dishes off the table. Nate shooed Violet away from the table, taking the bowl of pasta salad out of her hands. Didn’t the woman know how to take a break?
The smile she gave him was almost enough to make him wish she’d pick up something else, so he could take that for her, too.
He followed the others inside and set the food on the counter.
Then they all moved into the living room. Nate took a place next to Violet on the worn plaid sofa, careful not to look at her. He couldn’t allow himself the luxury of basking in her smiles.
A few seconds later, images of Rome and Venice and Florence were flashing across the TV screen. Sophie and Spencer took turns telling them about the sights and the food and the gondola captain who had misunderstood Sophie’s name and called her Soapy the whole ride.
Nate joined the others’ laughter. They seemed like a fun group. A kind and welcoming group, when he deserved anything but.
Next to him, Violet shifted. Her face, which had been carefree and animated outside, was now strained and pale. Her cheeks were drawn in, as if she was biting them, and she stared at her hands in her lap as she rubbed at her bare ring finger. Nate wanted to reach over and squeeze her arm, ask her what was wrong. He sat on his hands instead.
“Excuse me.” Violet stood and rushed past him, raising a hand to her eyes as she bolted for the hallway.
Chapter 13
Water blasted from the bathroom sink, and Violet cupped her shaking hands under the flow, splashing the water onto her face. The cold felt like a million scalpels slicing at her, but she didn’t care.
She splashed herself with another handful.
What was wrong with her? She should be happy for her friends. She was happy for them.
They’d had a lovely wedding and a lovely honeymoon, and now they were starting on their lovely life together.
A life that Violet would never know.
She forced herself to take a few deep breaths, to get herself under control.
She repeated the verse that had sustained her through the past three years: “The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge.” God was her refuge. Her strength was in him, no matter what she lost in this life. She let the reminder wash over her, willed it to seep into her heart.
After a few minutes, she examined the damage she had done to her makeup. Most of it was gone, though she had to wipe away a small smudge of mascara. Then, steeling her shoulders and painting a smile on her lips, she strode to the living room.
Nate half stood as she reappeared, remaining like that until she had taken her place next to him on the couch again. He slid closer to her as he sat, so that his arm brushed against hers. His nearness was nice. She felt like he was offering her some of his strength.
“You okay?” He said it so close to her ear that she could feel the whisper of his breath on her hair. At her nod, the tension in his shoulders eased.
When Spencer and Sophie had reached the end of their photos, Dan stood. “Okay, well, guys’ turn to do dishes tonight.” The other guys groaned.
Spencer threw a pillow at Dan. “You know they wouldn’t have remembered if you didn’t say anything.”
“You wanted me to lie?” Dan blinked innocently at Spencer.
“Not lie. Conceal the truth.” But Spencer was already heading for the kitchen.
“That’s the same thing, just for future reference,” Sophie called after him.
Oh, that banter. How she missed that with Cade.
Nate pushed to his feet as the other men stood.
Violet grabbed his arm. “You don’t have to help them.”
Nate smiled down at her. “Well, technically, I’m a guy, so I think I do.” He winked and was gone, leaving her suddenly breathless.
Sophie leaned toward her the moment Nate was in the kitchen. “So, he’s cute.”
“Shh.” Violet smacked her friend’s arm.
<
br /> “You should ask him out.” Sophie had never been one to mince words.
“What?” Violet waved a hand as if the thought had never occurred to her. “I’m not interested in him like that. He’s just my neighbor.”
“Okay. Then you ask him out, Leah.” She kept her eyes on Violet as she said it.
Violet’s chest tightened, but she knew what Sophie was doing. She turned to Leah. “You should.” Actually, now that she thought about it, she realized how stupid she’d been not to realize it earlier. Of course her beautiful friend would be a perfect fit for Nate.
Leah shook her head. “Not my type. A little too brooding.”
The tightness in Violet’s chest eased, which made no sense. She didn’t want to go out with Nate. So why did the thought of Leah going out with him bother her?
She glanced over her shoulder to see how he was doing with the other guys in the kitchen. Jared was regaling Nate with a story of some crazy incident or another, and Nate looked more relaxed than she had seen him since they’d met. As she stared, he looked up and caught her eye. Before she could think how to respond, she realized her face had been overtaken by a goofy grin. She raised a hand to wave at him, ignoring the way her friends nudged each other.
“So anyway―” It was long past time for a subject change. She turned to Peyton. “Are you and Jared getting excited for your big day?” Next Valentine’s Day, she’d watch two more of her friends move on with their lives while hers stayed still.
They talked wedding plans for the next twenty minutes, until a resounding “Done!” echoed from the kitchen. The men stood in a circle, their arms above their heads as if they’d just had a team huddle.
“If dish washing were a sport,” Sophie called, “you guys would get the medal for world’s slowest washers.”
Spencer plopped onto the couch next to his wife. “And here I was going to offer to do the dishes at home for the rest of our life. But if you think I’m too slow . . .” He rubbed a hand absently up and down her back.
Sophie leaned into him. “I don’t care how long it takes you. If you actually do that, you will be the best husband the world has ever known.”
Not Until You (Hope Springs Book 3) Page 9
