by Emily Bruce
Was there really a point?
She jumped in her seat as Blake opened the door for her. He held out a hand to help her out like the perfect gentleman he was. His smile made her knees buckle, which made her fall stylishly from the SUV and crash into his chest. Violet let his cologne invade her senses and the heat from his chest made her feel warm and safe. She felt like a giddy 17-year-old all over again. Clinging to Blake longer than was necessary, Violet took a step back. Blake looked down at her and smiled. “There’s the Violence I know,” he said, giving her a hot wink. She tried not to be embarrassed, expecting to follow him into the house.
Instead, he took her hand in his, causing an electric current to zap its way up Violet’s arm, and they walked quietly through the long grass as they made their way towards the old willow tree that sat in the east field about half a mile from the Wilson mansion.
Memories involving that old willow tree swirled around in her mind, many happy memories of laying under the tree talking with Sophie about what they wanted out of life. Many girl talks and many picnics. Then there was the memory of Blake daring her to climb the tree and touch the highest leaf. Violet shivered as she remembered falling out of the tree and breaking her arm.
“Are you cold?” Blake asked.
Violet shook her head. It was warm outside, with a cool sea breeze, and she could hear the ocean slamming against the cliff and the rustling of the long grass in the field. The old willow was swaying softly in the breeze. Blake hugged her closer as they made their way towards the old willow.
The sun was sitting low in the sky as they approached the old willow tree and she spied a table under the branches which was adorned in a crisp white tablecloth and covered with Mason jars full of pale pink, white, and peach roses. A pair of Mason jars holding candles flickered in the wind. There were gold plates and gold cutlery and the crystal glasses caught the setting sun and sparkled in the fading light. Violet had never seen such a romantic table setting before. It belonged at a wedding, not under the Wilson’s old willow tree. She turned to Blake, who was still holding her hand and looking at her. “Oh Blake, it looks amazing,” Violet managed to say, her voice trembling.
“Not as amazing as you,” he whispered as he tugged her closer to the table and pulled out a Louis-quatorze chair for her. He had even spread a cream-colored rug on the ground.
It was so romantic. Violet had never seen such a sight.
Maybe this date wasn’t going to be all bad?
Violet settled in her seat and looked up, gasping at the pretty sight overhead. The tree was full of fairy lights flickering as the sky grew darker.
Violet watched as Blake moved around the small table and took a seat, the candles and the fairy lights making his tanned skin glow. Taking her hand off the table, Blake entwined her fingers with his and Violet felt like her whole arm was going to fall off from the tingling sensations vibrating from her fingers up her arm. He still hadn’t spoken. He just trained his big blue eyes on her and smiled, looking at her like he had missed her or something.
Blake was staring into her eyes, his fingers rubbing against her skin. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something and then his phone started to ring.
Letting go of her hand, he leaned over and retrieved the phone from his pocket.
“I have to take this, it’s my agent,” he said apologetically as he got up and headed around to the other side of the willow tree.
Violet sighed, she was kind of glad she had a couple of minutes to herself to collect her thoughts. She picked up the menu, written in small gold calligraphy that was hard to make out because the sun had now set. She moved it closer to the flickering candlelight to read it.
Moving closer to the candle, she could make out the entrée, scallop soup.
Eww, she wasn’t a fan of fish.
Before Violet could get any further down the menu, she watched in horror as the beautiful golden menu was engulfed in flames.
Holy shit!
Violet waved the menu frantically as she tried desperately to fan out the flames, but all that seemed to do was make it worse as more of the menu ignited. Violet jumped up from the table, bumping it and causing the candles in the Mason jars to topple over. She watched on helpless as the whole tablecloth caught fire.
“Oh my god,” She shrieked as the flames spread rapidly. What the hell was that tablecloth made out of? Lighter fluid?
Violet had never seen a tablecloth go up in flames like that! Dropping the now charcoal menu onto the table before it burned her fingers, she reached for the champagne and ice bucket, discarded the bottle on the ground, and threw the contents of the ice bucket onto the flames.
But a whole bucket full of ice did nothing.
Nothing!!!
The flames had taken hold. It was no small smolder, but a roaring table of fire!
She was on a hot date, but she didn’t want it this hot…
So much for a hot date with the guy you have loved since you were 17!
Violet watched on in shock and horror and had no idea what to do.
Call emergency services?
Run?
Was this really happening right now??
Chapter 20
Blake
During the entire walk to the willow tree, Blake had been nervous.
And the car ride.
Sure, they had terrific sexual tension and pent-up feelings, but what else did they have in common? Their lives were so different. Maybe he was just talking himself out of this and had built it up in his mind to more than it was. This was, after all, just going to be a casual date where they could catch up, until he spilt his guts to Sophie and she got involved.
Freaking Sophie!
She texted him today and told him to wear a suit, but he assumed she meant for her wedding, not tonight.
If he had known, he would have worn the suit he wore to the Oscars last year, which would have gone with Violet’s pretty dress. He felt terrible for not noticing Sophie’s text and just showing up in his usual shit.
Blake pulled out Violet's chair and watched her beautiful ass take a seat while he made his way around to his side of the table.
The party planners he hired were not kidding around when they said they would deliver on ‘romantic’. The table looked like it belonged at a fancy five-star restaurant, not out under his parents’ willow tree in a field.
Sitting down, Blake looked at Violet and he felt his heart miss a beat. She was something else, she looked stunning in the setting sun with the flickering candlelight against her pale skin.
He reached out and entwined his fingers with hers, hoping this would convey a message to her. For some reason, he was tongue-tied. Never in his life had this happened to him. He was about to tell her she looked prettier than the stars starting to twinkle above her in the night sky, when his phone rang.
Of course!
Wrestling it out of his skinny jeans pocket, Blake stifled a groan as he saw his agent’s number flash on his screen. He instantly got mad, because he hadn’t given Darrell this number.
“I have to take this,” he said as he got up and wandered from the table around the other side of the willow tree.
“Blake! How are you?” came the voice of Blake’s agent, Darrell Hopper.
Blake imagined the 40-something sitting behind his domineering desk in his downtown LA office, wearing a crisp Armani suit and looking out at the Hollywood sign.
“I’m good, it's nice being a normal person again.” Darrell made a noise down the other end of the phone. “The reason I’m calling is they are starting to report your absence and EntertainMe TV has called looking for answers. There are only so many vague answers I can give them. Some fans have started an #WhereIs Blake? hashtag on WriteMe. I really think you need to release a statement that you’re retiring from acting. It's not going to be too long until someone in that country town of yours rats you out for some serious cash.”
Blake leaned against the old willow tree. “I’m done, I don
’t want to do a press release, I just want to go quietly into the night.”
“Blake, there is no way in hell they are going to let you do that,” Darrell replied flatly.
“Fine, can we talk about it next week?” Blake said.
“Sure, call me when you can.”
“Thanks Darrell.”
Blake hung up the phone and looked up at the illuminated branches of the old willow. Why couldn’t the media just leave him alone?
All he wanted to do was spend time with the girl he once loved and get to know her again. With more determination than ever to have a romantic dinner and reconnect with his Violence, Blake made his way back to the other side of the willow tree. Rounding the tree, Blake froze.
That romantic table wasn’t looking so romantic.
It was on fire!
The whole table and his chair were engulfed in flames.
Violet was standing a few feet away with her hands over her mouth looking on in horror. Springing into action, Blake ripped his t-shirt over his head and started beating the flames out.
They were in the middle of a field full of dry grass.
He didn’t want the flames to light the grass because if they did there would be no stopping them.
It took him a few goes, but he managed to put the fire out by beating at the table and chairs with his shirt.
He ruined his shirt in the process, but it was a small price to pay for not starting a grass fire.
Chapter 21
Violet
Oh god!
Yes!!
He took off his top and now she was getting a look at his sexy back as he beat out the flames. The way his shoulder muscles rippled as he hit the flames with his t-shirt made her want to moan. The soft glow of the flames was dancing across his skin, making him look even more tanned. Violet stood there, mouth agape, not too sure what to do as she watched Blake extinguish the flames.
Was it her, or was it getting hot here? And not just because of the flames.
Also, how was she meant to look at him and form a coherent sentence when he wasn’t wearing a top? Oh god, her clumsiness had ruined their big romantic dinner! Blake was going to think she was a total nutjob!
But that resulted in his top coming off, so was it such a bad thing?
She was so clumsy!
Violet watched as Blake made sure the fire was out, then turned and walked towards her. She almost swallowed her tongue. Those magazines and movies were so not lying about his abs and chest and… stuff. Her eyes were drawn to his slim waist and the waist band of his jeans...
That sexy man V thing was like lights on a landing strip to his crotch.
Damn, she was checking out his junk again!
She had always hoped it was all just photoshopped for the magazines and movies and his PicMe and that he wasn’t that...
Athletic?
Muscly?
Hot?
She looked at the sleeve of tattoos covering his right arm and stopping at his collarbone. The tattoos swirled around his arm, all blending in, but each section standing out. The tattoos weren’t something that made it onto PicMe often because he used that arm to hold the phone and take all those topless selfies. They were also airbrushed out of his movies, so they only belonged to Blake.
Her Blake.
Oh god! Where had that come from! He wasn’t hers!
Her gaze flicked to his as he drew closer. He had a huge grin on his face, the kind of grin that made her lady-bits seriously quiver in their boots. She was about 20 seconds away from climbing him like a mountain. She so wanted to reach that summit!
He was her Everest!
“I’m gone for 3 minutes and you set our romantic dinner on fire and come dangerously close to setting the east field alight?” Blake said, shaking his head and blinking like he wasn’t too sure if that was really what he had seen.
Violet felt her cheeks heat up.
She was such a klutz.
Looking away from his very distracting hot torso, Violet flicked her gaze to Blake’s face and there of course was a massive smirk and he was trying not to laugh.
“It was an accident,” Violet said in a trembling voice.
This was nearly as bad as The Incident all those years ago!
The Incident 2- Wildfire?
Movie title right there!
Why in earth did she always make a fool of herself in front of this man?
“The story of your life, Violence,” Blake replied in a husky tone and took a step closer, his lips twitching like he was trying to hide a smile. Violet took a deep breath. He was now standing so close that she could make out the tiny beads of sweat on his torso from all the firefighting. She felt her heart flutter and a warm heat spread across her skin. She was stuck, staring into those blue eyes gazing intently into her soul. They could probably read her thoughts.
Her super dirty, erotic thoughts.
Yeah, this was bad.
All she wanted to do was reach out and lick his hot man chest, she wondered what her tongue would feel like sliding over his abs and getting right into those crevices.
Oh no, she was about to do something stupid!
Violet reached out and put her hand on his chest as if her hand had a mind of its own and she was unable to stop it. She felt her lady-bits quiver.
Like, seriously quiver.
His chest was as smooth as it looked and warm under her touch, which was sending another fire through her veins straight to her crotch, a fire hotter than that burning table.
Before Violet could gather her senses and move her hand, Blake’s hand came over the top of it and he pulled her onto his chest. Her feet tangled below her and her face hit a hard wall of male torso as she fell into him. He steadied her and Violet looked up into the most handsome face she had ever seen.
Blake’s eyes searched hers and Violet bit her lip and broke eye contact because she was about to combust into a flaming fireball. When he looked at her like that, it made her tremble and feel hot all at the same time. She felt his fingers under her chin. “Look at me, Violence,” he whispered in a husky voice. Violet took a deep breath and locked her eyes with his. Blake swore gently under his breath and then bent down and kissed her. Violet moaned as he searched her mouth with his tongue.
This wasn’t like before in the Cape Cod house, this was hotter. Violet threw her arms around his shoulders as he kissed her. His tongue swirled around her mouth as he pulled her closer, lifting her off the ground and grabbing her thighs as she wrapped her legs around his torso.
Violet broke the kiss and pulled back to look at Blake, his blue eyes on fire and his mouth wet from their hot kissing.
“You can’t lift me, I’m too heavy,” she shrieked, trying to unwrap her legs. Blake grunted and lifted her higher, causing her to scream louder. Then they were moving, moving back closer to the tree.
Violet clung to Blake and his mouth found hers again as they kissed. He moved around the tree, away from the smoldering remains of their romantic dinner. Violet felt herself being gently laid out on the long grass, Blake’s tongue still wedged down her throat. He put her down with great care, making sure she didn’t hit her head on the ground. Blake was on his knees as he loomed over her, still not breaking the kiss.
Violet must have died and gone to heaven. There was no way this was happening.
She opened her eyes and she could see the stars sparkling in the sky above, and hear the waves crashing against the cliff. Her gaze landed on the shirtless hot man on top of her, still passionately kissing her, his hands running up and down her sides with increasing urgency. This was the moment she had been waiting for her entire life, when the man whom she had loved for most of her life wanted her as much as she wanted him. Everything was perfect.
Well, she could lose the faint burning smell of the table though.
Violet let her hands slip from his shoulders and roam over Blake’s chest, running down the smooth tanned skin and feeling the creases of his abs.
Yep, she was fi
ngering his abs!
Hotness overload!
Suddenly, the sound of someone clearing his throat interrupted their little make-out session. Blake pulled away and sat up on his knees, looking past her in the direction of the table.
“What happened here?” a shocked voice asked.
Violet cringed. Oh god, someone had caught them making out like sex-starved teenagers! She sat up to see a young man dressed like a waiter in a fancy restaurant balancing two dishes with silver bell lids precariously on his arm and another behind his back. His eyes roamed over the pair of them, taking in her tousled hair and the half-naked Blake. The kid nearly dropped the food when he recognized Blake. “Oh my god, you’re Blake Wilson!” the teen said excitedly. “Uh, yeah,” Blake replied, looking embarrassed. “Oh, don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me,” replied their young waiter. Looking around, Violet could tell that he wasn’t sure what to do with the plates. “Did you still want dinner?” he asked as his eyes drifted to the smoldering mess beside him. Blake looked at Violet and smirked.
“Just cancel dinner, we’ll get something later,” he said and dismissed the guy with a wave of his wrist. The waiter nodded, gave Blake and Violet a huge knowing grin, and then turned and marched off, back towards the house.
Violet’s insides started to flutter as Blake turned his attention back to her. “Thank Christ he fucked off, now I can get you out of these clothes,” Blake growled, a wicked grin spreading across his handsome face.
Violet trembled.
Oh my god!
This so was not happening right now, was it?
Should she mention that she put the last two guys she had sex with into the ER? Was that something you told a potential lover?
No?
Yes?
There goes her top!!
Chapter 22
Blake
Blake was a man possessed as he nearly ripped the plaid shirt straight off Violet’s body, but then thought twice. He didn’t have a shirt to give her and he didn’t think she would be into walking topless back to the house when his parents were home.
