Son of a bitch. Is this my lucky day or what? I give her a once over, a complete dick move, but everything about her appeals to me, even when it shouldn’t. From her lips to her tits, she’s perfect. I continue my perusal, taking in the curves and tanned legs that her outfit doesn’t hide.
“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” I ask, then want to groan and disappear. What the hell is wrong with me? I sound like a dude in the chick flick my last girlfriend dragged me to see on our “dating anniversary”. Although, I did get laid for my sacrifice. “Do you go to UNC-C?”
Rae takes a couple of steps back. “No.” She bumps into an older woman, who turns to face us.
“Miss Violet,” Kelly squeals, jerking away from me.
I wince, used to my sister’s blood-curdling screams of excitement, but Rae jumps about ten feet and gasps. Panic registers on her face, eyes all wild and her head swivels, like she’s looking for an exit.
What the hell?
“Inside voice, please.” I recognize Kelly’s Sunday School teacher, Mrs. Violet Givens. Yeah, so I might not be up on the whole God and religion thing, but taking Kelly to church seems like the right thing to do.
And it gives me a two hour break to study, or I don’t know…act like a twenty-two year old and play Call of Duty on the PlayStation my buddy, Wyatt, let me borrow while he’d served in Afghanistan. It’s been a week since he’s come home and he still hasn’t gotten it. Maybe he’s forgotten.
“Yes, ma’am.” Kelly steps back, dimples flashing as she smiles up at Miss. Violet. “Can I come home with you and play with the kitties today?”
The tired as fuck part of me wants to say: please, take her. But the responsible part of me, the part that doesn’t rely on outsiders for help, wins out. “Kelly, you don’t invite yourself over to someone’s house.”
Miss Violet smiles. “It’s all right, Cole. I told her last Sunday she could come anytime. And I’m sure my granddaughter would like the company. She’s visiting from-”
“California!” Rae all but shouts and her grandmother’s brows raise. “Sorry, that was a little loud.”
Rae looks genuinely embarrassed and I can’t help but try to make her feel better. “Not as loud as someone else I know,” I say with a grin, slicing my gaze to my sister.
Rae flashes me a smile, one that’s so damn gorgeous I want to get closer to her. That smile dares me to come closer. So, I step closer.
No time, I silently remind myself. And since she’s Miss Violet’s granddaughter: off-limits.
“Do you play with the kitties, Rae?”Kelly asks, her curly hair all over the place. It’s going to be a bitch to brush out later. Moving closer, I run my hand over it, trying to smooth it down.
“Sometimes, when the momma cat doesn’t mind,” Rae answers, her voice pitch perfect.
As if realizing how close I am, Rae shrinks away from me and I fight the urge to check my breath. It’s not until we’re standing side by side that I comprehend exactly how tiny she is. Barely over five feet. Normally, I’m not into small girls. I like ‘em tall, with big boobs, hips and round asses.
But this girl sets something off in me. Maybe it’s her size that makes me want to protect her. Or maybe it was when she panicked when Kelly screamed. Although that’s a crazy thought, because I don’t know her and there’s nothing in this grocery store at the ass-crack of dawn to threaten anyone.
Mrs. Givens hefts her brown bag of groceries and nods at the cashier. “Hand Lisa that box of cereal so she can return it to its proper place, then the two of you can join me and Rae for breakfast. Nothing fancy, just eggs, grits, sausage and biscuits.”
I open my mouth to protest, then change my mind at Rae’s look of oh-no-she-didn’t-just-invite-him. I wink at her, then say, “We’d love to have breakfast with you guys.”
*** *** ***
Violet
When Kelly shouted Nana’s name, I almost ran out of the store. For one horrible second, I thought she had outed me. For one horrible second, I thought the peace that I had grown used to in the past month was coming to an end, and that paparazzi would storm the aisles of the Piggly Wiggly, shoving cameras in my face and asking the same questions.
Always the same questions: Why did you get wasted that night? Why aren’t you in rehab? How do you feel about Callie Hughes marrying Jaxon Hunter?
But now I have some questions of my own: Why have my managers aka my parents told the press I’m in Japan? Maybe they’d picked that country, because I’m not as famous there. Maybe they wanted me caught in a lie, but why even start when that could backfire on them, too?
Barely twenty-four hours after my escape, they had tracked me to Nana’s house. She had assured them I was safe and welcome to stay as long as I needed. That seemed to calm them down, but it hasn’t stopped them from calling at least once a day—every day—since then to check up on me.
In some ways I’m glad they found me so soon, because I’m not a bitch who wants to hurt them. I love my parents…I just can’t deal with their happiness right now.
Maybe ever.
I can barely concentrate on the conversation taking place right beside me. My hands begin to shake and I take a step back, shoving my hands behind my back, linking them tightly together.
Cole gives me this look, like I’ve just insulted him by moving. But it’s better that way. No matter how handsome he is, even with his bedhead, morning stubble and god-awful yet cute pickup lines, I don’t have time to even contemplate a relationship of any kind with anyone.
Forget get the time: I don’t have enough pieces of me left to throw away on some boy.
Cole rubs his sister’s head again, trying to do something with all those wild curls. The gesture is so sweet that I melt a little. Who wouldn’t? He offers to take the grocery bag from Nana and I’m pretty sure she melts, too.
With a friendly smile, he takes the bag from Nana and crooks his arm. “Ma’am?” Blushing like a teenager, my sixty-five year old grandmother places her fingers on his elbow.
I smash my lips together, annoyed as all get out, but what am I going to say? Quit being so polite?
Oh yeah, this guy has it all down pat. Maybe a point in Nana’s book, but not in mine. I’ve been with the perfect guy. The guy that knew all the right things to say and do to impress me and my parents.
Underneath it all, he was a snake and a liar and a cheat. He screwed anything with boobs. Like my best friend, Callie, for example. It hadn’t bothered him to destroy my relationship with her or with him. Jax hadn’t even bothered to visit me in the hospital after the wreck.
“A portion of the windshield was embedded in her abdomen,” the doctor calmly informs my parents, while I lay in the hospital bed, drifting from conscious to unconscious thoughts. “The first responders called it a freak accident. Frankly she’s lucky to be alive.”
“Not everyone was lucky,” I whisper, my words hoarse and my throat raw. But I can’t tell them the truth. I can’t tell them who else was in the car.
I trail after Nana, Cole and Kelly, my thoughts slowing my pace. The little girl turns and skips to me, lacing her fingers through mine. Automatically, I smile at her. She chatters on about everything as we walk, talking a mile a minute about her brothers, school and her Barbies.
But then I notice something’s missing. Not once has Kelly mentioned her mom or dad, just her brothers. We stop by Nana’s truck. Cole loads the bag of groceries into the back.
Finally, I ask, “Do you think your parents would want to come eat with us, too?”
Kelly blinks up at me, “My momma’s not home.”
“Where is she?”
The little girl looks to her brother, then back at me again. She wiggles one foot on the asphalt. “I don’t know.”
I frown. “Why not?”
“I don’t know,” she whispers.
Something’s not right, so I press on. “Won’t she be worried if you don’t call first?”
“I don’t know.” Kelly’s brown eyes fill
with tears and her bottom lip quivers.
Trying to keep those tears at bay, I ask, “Then again, she probably won’t mind, since Cole will be with you, right?”
“I don’t know,” she says again, ending on a wail.
Crap, crap, crap. I made it worse. Squatting in front of Kelly, I hug her. My hands feel awkward as I pat her little back. “I’m sorry, honey. That was really rude of me.”
“Yeah, it was.” Cole grabs his sister, swinging her up in his arms. She buries her face in his neck. He narrows his eyes at me, then looks at my grandmother and says, “Sorry, but we won’t be joining y’all for breakfast. Thanks anyway, Miss Violet.”
“I’m really sorry,” I say, but it’s too late. He heads in the opposite direction, consoling his sister with talk about Bo’Jangles.
Nana’s hand comes to rest on my shoulder as Cole’s black Jeep speeds away. “I think your month of solitude has made you forget how to talk to people, Rae.”
The emphasis she places on my name makes me laugh nervously. “Yeah. So, I’m not asking you to lie for me, but I need more time,” I confess. “If any reporters figure out I’m here, then—” I swallow, unable to finish. Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do if that happened. “Please, Nana…I’m not ready to go back to my old life, not yet. Just call me Rae while I’m here.”
One gray brow rises. “Let me think on it.”
Sighing, I climb in the truck and put on my seatbelt. It’s a better reply than I thought I’d get. She could have flat out refused.
Nana joins me and pretty soon we’re on Highway twenty-five, heading back to my sanctuary. “Supposed to rain this evening.”
Okay, so I wasn’t expecting her to talk about the weather, but that’s another thing I love about her. She isn’t one to dwell on mistakes. She’s also not one to gossip. No finding out more information about the Morgans from that source. “That’ll be good for your fall garden.”
She nods. “Suppose I’ll get my baking done this morning.”
I glance over at her, my lips twisting a little. She’s so transparent. “Suppose I’ll be delivering a cake to the Morgans this afternoon.”
“Why, Violet Rae, that’s a fine idea,” she says, as if she hadn’t orchestrated the entire thing.
“Violet Rae, huh?”
“This way we both get what we want.” A glimmer of a smile curves her lips.
And I’m fine with her compromise. Besides, I need to apologize to Kelly, like a real apology, not just words hastily thrown together. As for her brother…my heart speeds up, beating like an eight-o-eight drum—oh crap, I want to see him again.
This can’t be good.
***
Later that afternoon, I’m curled up on the couch, my head in Nana’s lap as she reads her Bible and lightly rubs my head.
The cakes are cooling on the counter. Her house smells so good it should be a Yankee Candle scent.
She pauses in her reading and I say, “Do you like my new look?” What I really mean is does she still like me? Just last week, I confessed everything to her. Well, almost everything. I had to. The burden had become too great for me to bear alone. She hadn’t said a word at first. Just looked at me, her eyes full of sorrow, then opened her arms. I don’t remember how long she hugged me, only that the tears on my face had dried by the time I pulled away.
“I think it’s sassy.” She sets her Bible on the end table. “But I don’t think that’s what you’re really wanting to know.”
And she knows me to well. I sit up, swallowing hard. “Do you think I’m a bad person?”
“We’re all sinners, Violet Rae. All the same in God’s eyes. Unworthy of forgiveness but He gives it to us anyway when we ask, because he loves us. And I’m thankful, because boy, do I need it. Like this morning when I sliced my finger open.”
I don’t think exclaiming Gosh Almighty when you accidentally cut yourself is something that anyone needs forgiveness for, but I love her even more for saying we’re alike in that regard. She’s always been this way, no nonsense and forthright in her beliefs. But it doesn’t ease my aching heart.
“I know, but do you still love me?”
“Of course I do. Even when I don’t agree or understand half of what you’re talking about most of the time,” she says and I smile. “I’ll always love you.”
I lay back down again, my eyes closing. “Love you, too.”
“Have you told your parents?”she asks and my eyes snap open.
“No.” They’ve only been told the sketchiest of details.
“Kimberly has to be missing you.”
“She’s too wrapped up in baby stuff to miss me.”
“Spoken like a truly spoiled only child.”
If only that were true. Yes, I’m spoiled, but it’s not why I don’t want to be around my mother. Not even Nana knows the second half of why I don’t. And if she wants to put it off on being an only child for twenty years…Fine with me. I can deal with being called spoiled.
But I can’t deal with look of pity that would take residence on her face.
“Can you read that passage from Psalms, the one King David wrote about finding peace in dark times?” I ask, my eyes and mouth shutting before I confess all my secrets to her.
I hear the rustle of pages, her throat clearing and she begins to read. Tears escape the corners of my eyes, but I don’t bother wiping them away.
Chapter Four
Violet
I have read about a person’s tongue being glued to the roof of their mouth before, only I hadn’t known it was directly related to Cole Morgan answering the door wearing nothing but a towel around his lean hips.
His black hair, damp from the shower, curls over his ears. Lashes at jealousy inducing length frame eyes a color that can only be called Photoshop blue. Who in the world has eyes that color, besides computer generated images?
I should know. My own image has been altered countless time for magazine covers. A little skinnier on this one, taller on another, or bustier on yet another.
Cole leans against the door frame, crossing muscular arms over an equally muscular chest, jolting me from my thoughts. Tattoos run down each side of his tight abs, but my vision has suddenly blurred so badly that I can’t begin to make them out.
On the bright side, I haven’t dropped the apology cake. Yet.
One of us should speak, but that darn tongue of mine is content stay right where it is. I swallow several times before croaking, “Is Kelly home?”
“Why—need to ask her about what happened to her hamster last year?” He uncrosses an arm and taps his chin, glaring all the while. “Or better, yet, why don’t you mention her goldfish, Ernie? That’s bound to bring back great memories. While you’re at it, tell her Santa, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy aren’t real either.”
This is harsher than I expected, but I made his sister cry. If the roles were reversed and Kelly was my sister, the front door would have remained firmly shut. If I had a baby sister, I’d—
“Won’t this be fun, Vi? Think of it, a baby brother or sister that will adore you,” I hear my momma say, her voice sing-songy like an elementary school teacher’s.
My stomach collapses, like I’ve been punched. Pain spreads out in great waves, paralyzing everything but my voice. “You’re pregnant? But you’re…Dad’s…old.”
Her beautiful face, all glowing, falls. “Don’t be ugly, Violet.”
“The truth might be ugly, but it’s still the truth,” I snap.
She blinks at me, hand rising to her throat to grasp the string of pearls she always wears. Then she runs from the room.
I want to go after her, apologize, but the bitter part of me, the destroyed part of me keeps my feet frozen to the kitchen floor.
A hand waves in front of my face and I blink. “Damn, but you are one strange girl,” Cole says, backing away and shutting the door. “Later.”
At the last minute, I turn sideways and wedge my shoulder against the wood. “Wait. The cake—” I al
most throw it at him. “—I made it for y’all. It’s my apology.” He has to take this cake. I need him to. My apology has to count.
His forehead wrinkles, making him all sorts of adorable and sexy. “You apologize with food?”
“Doesn’t everyone?” I smile, surprised to find that it actually feels good and sincere. The girl I used to be loved to smile, for fans and for cameras. She never met a stranger. And people loved to smile back.
Cole is no exception. “Everyone should.” He steps back, gesturing for me to come inside. “Put the cake on the table. Kelly’s at a birthday party, over at the Jump and Shout. Parker’s with her, just in case inquiring minds want to know.”
The Morgan house is a lot like Nana’s on the outside, plain white siding with black shutters. Apparently, the builder had liked this road and built the same floor plan six times over.
“I really don’t think I should. I mean, you’re not dressed for company.” Heat creeps up my neck as his blue eyes pierce me. My response is ridiculous; I’ve been on world tours before and have seen men and women in various stages of undress.
And there’s my ex-boyfriend, Jaxon, who I had seen nude countless times before. But his abs, while nice and tight, weren’t—I lick my lips—made for video like Cole’s.
One of Cole’s hands goes to the towel, to the very spot where it’s tucked inside. He fiddles with the material and it drops lower, so does my gaze.
“Let me change, first, since this towel offends your delicate sensibilities. Then I’ll let you take the cake holder back home with you.” Before I can turn him down again, he walks away, pauses and shoots me a wicked grin over his shoulder.
That grin does things to parts of me that have no business coming to life. Heat skims my body. “What?”
“I sure hate offending you.” He drops the towel, exposing his very fine butt. There are dimples on each side and at the base of his back. “Close your mouth, darlin’.” Muscles ripple and flow as he strides into his bedroom.
Live For You (Boys of the South ~ Book 1) Page 2
