by Lori Foster
“What?”
Grinning like a nut, Colt said, “Your question. You weren’t going to ask me my opinion on the ladies?”
Hogan snorted. “No.” But Colt liked Violet? “Joni is only my boss.”
“Yeah? Did you tell her that?”
His hands locked on the steering wheel. “I’ve made it as clear as I can.”
“So maybe you want to introduce her to Violet?”
Damn, why was Colt harping on her? He didn’t see Joni anywhere, so he headed back toward the house so Colt could get his own truck. “Violet is also a boss.”
Colt studied him. “But she’s not only a boss, right?”
Feeling like he was slogging through quicksand, Hogan wondered what to say.
“You know, Dad, it’s not a big deal.”
But in Hogan’s heart, he knew it was. A very big deal. Colt had lost his mother, his home, his friends—and while he’d been trying to deal with all that, Hogan had been out acting like an adolescent ass.
Feeling his verbal way carefully, Hogan said, “Joni is only a boss. I’m not involved with her in any other way.”
“I figured.”
“Violet...she’s a friend first, a boss second.”
“Uh-huh.” Shifting in his seat so that he faced Hogan, Colt said, “I’m not a kid, you know? I’m not blind, either. And like I said, I like Violet.”
“She and I aren’t—”
Colt held up a hand. “I was just saying that I wouldn’t mind if you were.”
Somehow, that mattered a lot, probably more than Colt realized. “I appreciate that, son, I really do. But as I told your uncle Jason, it’s complicated.” He waffled, but maybe it was past time he and Colt had a talk. “Things have been rough, for both of us, I know. But I’m finally getting back on an even keel. I’m not anxious to get involved again. Seriously involved, I mean.”
Colt, too, changed his tone. He looked out the passenger window and said, “You loved Mom.”
Without hesitation, he said, “Very much.” Even at the end. If he hadn’t loved her, none of it would have hurt so much.
“What she did was wrong.”
Hogan ached for Colt. “But she was still your mother, and I promise, I’m never going to forget that.”
“I know.”
Hogan couldn’t let it go there. “The problems, Colt...they were strictly between Meg and me. They didn’t have anything to do with you, okay? It’s important that you know that.”
He was quiet for a long time, even after they’d parked back at the house. When Colt did speak, his voice was low, painfully serious. “It’s never felt that way. When someone cheats, it’s like cheating on the whole family.”
Hogan’s heart clenched. “Your mother loved you a lot.”
“Not enough to think about how torn up our lives would be.” He laughed, a raw sound of hurt. “She sat with me at the dining room table, going over colleges, helping me to decide... Then she stripped away my college fund like none of it had ever been real.”
Hogan wasn’t sure what to say about that. He settled on the truth. “I’m not sure what your mother was going through. Maybe a midlife crisis, maybe something more.” A small breakdown? Hogan just didn’t know. “She wasn’t herself there at the end.”
Colt’s hand fisted on his thigh. “Whatever it was,” he whispered, “she did it to both of us. I still love her. I’ll always miss her.”
“Of course you will. She was a good mom.” He squeezed Colt’s shoulder. “Look at how terrific you turned out.”
Colt shared the barest of smiles. “I don’t blame you, Dad. I saw what happened, I heard the fights and I don’t blame you. I just... I thought you should know that.”
Hogan stared at this amazing young man who was his son, astounded all over again. His eyes burned and his throat felt tight. He nodded, swallowed hard and managed to say, “Thank you.”
Suddenly Colt turned to him. “So what were you going to ask me?”
It took him a second to adjust to the shift and to remember. Then he gladly accepted the change. “Violet is thinking about doing some before or after party stuff at the diner for school dances or sports events. What do you think? Would enough kids your age show up to make it worthwhile?”
Colt frowned as he gave it some thought. “That’s a great idea, actually. There aren’t any nice places nearby and not everyone wants to drive an hour to downtown.”
Hogan wasn’t sure he’d call the diner “nice,” but in comparison to the nearby fast-food restaurants, it was preferable.
“Violet could do something outside, if the weather holds.” Colt gave it more thought. “You know, I was upstairs once. She’s got half the upper floor empty. If it was cleaned up, maybe painted, it could work out great for a party.”
Hogan had never even thought about the upstairs. “What’s up there?”
Colt shrugged. “Storage mostly, I guess. A few of the rooms are used to keep holiday decorations for the diner. There’s another room where she stores extra tablecloths and stuff, and some old booths that I guess she replaced. She sent me up there to get some spare fluorescent bulbs when one blew in her office.”
Huh. “I’ll check it out.” In fact, he’d get to the diner early so he could look it over. “Thanks for the idea.”
“No problem.” He reached into the back and hauled out his schoolbag. “I have to go or I’ll be late.”
“You aren’t already?”
Colt shook his head. “I got a couple of classes free because I’d already aced the tests. Others were doing some makeup work. I’ll see you tonight at the diner, okay?”
Hogan rarely got mushy. It just wasn’t something done between a father and an almost-adult son. But this time he couldn’t resist. “Love you, Colt.”
Colt gave a lazy grin, but it turned into a laugh. “Yeah, sure. Love you, too, Dad.”
Why it was funny, Hogan didn’t know, but damn it, he was grinning, too.
* * *
For the first time in a long time, Colt felt like life was getting back to normal. His mom had been one to hug him and tell him she loved him every single time she saw him, all the time, coming or going, for just about any reason at all.
In the end, she’d loved other things, other people, far more.
His dad, though, he was all about showing love, quiet and controlled, unwavering, through thick and thin. Colt knew his dad had been hurting a lot, but not once had he turned his back on him. He’d uprooted them, yes. He’d been majorly pissed, understandably. But he’d always been there.
The thought that he might not be had never crossed Colt’s mind. His dad was dedicated.
Sure, his dad loved him, but sometimes love wasn’t enough. His mom had proved that. But dedication with a sense of responsibility—his dad had it. Big-time.
Colt wondered if he’d been so pathetic today that his dad felt the need to say the words as well as show them. He hoped not; he wanted to make things easier for him, not harder.
He needed his dad to know that he understood, that he knew just because he was a father, he wasn’t impervious. He was allowed to grieve, and he was allowed, finally, to enjoy life again. Colt wanted him to be happy. He didn’t want to do anything to get in his way.
His mom had taken a lot from his dad, but she wasn’t going to take everything. Colt wouldn’t let her.
Thoughts of his mother left him hollow with a hurt he wanted to deny. He was still mad at her, but she’d never know.
Dead people didn’t have to deal with the messes they left behind.
Lost in dark thoughts, Colt didn’t see Charish until he literally ran right into her. Her petite body bounced back from the impact with his, her arms flailing, books and papers falling, and at the last second Colt managed to drop his own bag and
catch her by the upper arms.
He hauled her in close to keep her from hitting the floor.
In a single heartbeat his thoughts went from ugliness to feelings a whole lot hotter. Damn, he wanted her.
She stared up at him, her big dark brown eyes unblinking, stunned probably. Then her small hands settled against his chest and her attention went to his mouth.
Charish often looked at him in that way.
Usually it made it hard for him to think, but other times it made him uneasy.
She was new to the school, and as his dad had said, she needed a friend more than anything else. Wasn’t easy, but he’d have to remember that.
Especially now that he knew more about her.
He liked her, but there was something about her... A lot of the other guys liked her, too. The girls, not so much. Jealousy, maybe. He wasn’t sure.
“You okay? I’m sorry.” Colt laughed at his own preoccupation with problems a year old. “I didn’t see you.”
“I didn’t see you, either.” She glanced down at spilled books and papers.
They were alone in the back hall, on their way into school. Colt still had hold of her arms. For such a slim, small girl, she was chesty in a way that made him sweat. Her top wasn’t really low-cut, but no matter what she wore, if it fitted her overall, it hugged her boobs real tight.
He took a breath, let her go and knelt to pick up the mess.
“I can do it,” she said, her voice low.
“I don’t mind.” He still had a few minutes before he had to get to class. His attention shifted to her legs. Really pretty legs, long and slim. Kneeling in front of her, with her wearing a short skirt, he had an up-close view.
He remembered being in his truck with her, kissing her, touching her naked thigh, testing the waters—
Charish shifted, cocking out a hip.
Had she caught him staring? Colt looked up and saw her smiling slightly. He’d only kissed her that once, but it was enough for him to remember how soft her lips felt, how she’d breathed faster, the taste of her.
And her inexperience.
He surged to his feet and handed her back her stuff. “On your way to class?”
“Yes.” When she turned her head, her long, dark hair spilled around her shoulders and over her chest. “Opposite direction of you, though.” She wrinkled her nose. “Chemistry.”
He remembered her hair, too, the silkiness of it. He didn’t consider himself a noble guy, but not taking advantage of her was, in his opinion, noble as shit.
Charish was interested. He knew it, but part of her interest could be loneliness, and that stuck in his throat, because he’d been lonely for a long time, too.
Besides, he wanted to make life easier for his dad, not tougher. That meant added income and paying his own way for college. If he kept on the current track, he could graduate this quarter, then work full-time.
Virgins, no matter how sweet they might be, would only complicate things.
Charish looked up into his eyes. “Colt, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” My life. But no, it was getting better. A lot better. He shook his head.
She stepped closer to him. “You going to Marley’s party tonight?”
He’d forgotten all about Marley’s party. “I’m working at the diner.”
With a half smile, she accused, “All you do is work.”
“Not really.” He put in maybe twenty hours a week at the diner. What he made gave him spending money, with extra to put toward college. He didn’t work so much that it interfered with school. He juggled it all, and he tried not to complain.
“You do lawn work, too, right?”
“Yeah, in my spare time.”
She laughed. “What about spare time for dating?”
“I date,” he said, smiling at her. “Just not this weekend.” He picked up his backpack.
She touched his arm to keep him from leaving. “Colt...did I do something wrong?”
Damn, he hated stuff like this. There’d been enough drama in his life lately to choke a horse. He didn’t want to add more. “No.”
She shifted nervously, readjusting her books. “I thought you liked me.”
“I do.”
“When we were in your truck... Is it because I said no? I mean—”
Colt cupped the side of her face. Not kissing her was suddenly really hard. “I like you, Charish. I really do. And no, it’s not because you didn’t want to have sex. It’s because I don’t think you’ve ever had sex.” He watched her face and saw the heat crawl over her cheeks. “I don’t want to talk you into anything. That wouldn’t be fair.” Because she looked agonized, he dropped his hand. “We could be friends if you want.”
Staring down at her feet, she nodded. “Only friends?”
It gnawed on him, that nearly impossible urge to put his mouth on hers, but they were in school and a teacher could show up any minute. Plus, kissing her would destroy that whole “friend” bullshit he’d just given her. “I have to get to class. I’ll see you around, okay?”
Without meeting his eyes, she nodded.
As he went down the hall, Colt felt her staring at him.
At least she’d distracted him from memories.
8
VIOLET HADN’T SLEPT as soundly as Hogan predicted she would. How could she when she kept thinking about him “taking care of himself”? Oh, how she’d love to watch. Until he’d said it, though, she’d never much thought about a man doing that. When she fantasized, and of course she did, it was about her playing an active role with a man, not a man on his own.
Hogan had added all kinds of new dimensions to her fantasies, and he definitely had the starring role.
She really wanted to talk to him about it, to do more of that incredible sexual teasing and touching—she could barely think of anything else—but just as she’d predicted, the weekend was a madhouse. A wonderful, insane, nonstop madhouse, and she loved it.
The place stayed so packed, she didn’t get a chance to talk to Hogan alone Friday night or most of the day Saturday. He’d no sooner set up the grills than customers surrounded him in the outdoor area. Other than idle chitchat and a few long looks, they’d been forced to behave.
Around eight on Saturday, Nathan showed up and joined a woman new to the area. Fascinating. Violet found herself wondering about Nathan “taking care of himself.” Then she wondered about Jason, too. She glanced around at all the different customers, better than half of them male, and given the train of her thoughts, she felt like a pervert. Of course she’d known they did that; she knew everyone did it. She was a normal adult and she wasn’t stupid. But she’d never specifically thought about it.
Good grief, Hogan had rotted her brain. She bit her lip, but still laughed.
Around eight thirty, she finally caught time for a break. She grabbed a cold tea, a salad and the latest Trickle, which was now days old. Colt had left a copy of the paper in her office, but she hadn’t yet had a chance to read it. Maybe catching up on neighborhood news would get her brain out of the gutter.
She took an empty stool at the counter and dug in, both to the food and the news.
She read about the passing of Mrs. Berger, a very sweet ninety-year-old woman whose niece brought her to the diner once a month for dinner. Since Violet hadn’t read the paper, she hadn’t known about her passing. Already she’d missed the funeral. Feeling terrible for the niece, she made a mental note to send her flowers and a card.
She also read about a new science class offered to grade school children at the local college. Nice. It sounded messy and fun and kids would probably love that.
A nearby boutique, one of her favorites when she splurged, which wasn’t often, had a terrific sale going on for a few more days. And at the beginning of the month
, the flower shop would offer a free carnation to the mothers of active military, just as a thank-you to those who served.
She skimmed through the rest of the news on neighbors and businesses, and finally, with her salad almost gone, she went to the advice column that grew ever more popular every day.
Some weeks there was only one question answered, and others there were two or three. The first one this time was about a neighbor who cut his grass too late in the evening. The noise coming through the open windows, the complainer said, made it impossible to hear her evening shows.
The advice was to politely talk to the neighbor first, to explain that it was disruptive. If that didn’t work, close the windows and turn on the air-conditioning.
Violet grinned. Good common sense, but nothing fun until she read on to the next request for advice. As she took in the words, her eyes widened.
Good God, it was about Nathan, and it was delicious.
A hand touched her shoulder and she jumped a good foot, feeling both guilty for what she’d read and titillated by it.
Twisting, Violet found Hogan standing there, one brow up, a half smile in place. She pressed a hand over her pounding heart. “You just took a year off my life.”
His gaze went over her face in an intimate, affectionate way. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Are you on break?” she asked at almost the same time.
“Sort of. I came in to get food, but I can take it back out with me. Colt is watching the grills for me until then.”
Her eyes widened. Colt, his son. Of course. Mentally jumping ahead, she said, “He’d make the perfect apprentice.”
“No.”
“You are the most stubborn man.” Gorgeous, too. His jeans weren’t tight, but they did fit his tight butt and muscular thighs. His T-shirt stretched over those beautiful broad shoulders, then fell loose over his flat stomach. Now, after what he’d done to her, she looked at him differently.
She wasn’t sure she could ever look at him the same again.
Seeing her scrutiny, Hogan’s brow went a little higher. “I was going to ask you about seeing the upstairs, but now you’ve got me interested.” He peered over her shoulder at the paper she’d spread out on the bar. “Reading gossip again, huh?”
