Chapter 12
Callum
Having Violet in my arms is not something I planned on today. However the way my family acted around her, I had to take her to a safe space and make sure she was doing okay.
Sometimes my family can be a little much. I know this. Hell, the whole town knows this.
Violet stills as I trace my hands up and down her bare arms.
"Everything’s going to be okay," I murmur, my lips dangerously close to her ear. My voice is low, meant to soothe, but the proximity sends a wave of warmth through my body, tightening the air around us. I know I should walk away, put some distance between us before this becomes something I can’t control. But I can’t move.
"Thank you," she whispers, her voice barely audible, and I lean back just enough to meet her gaze. Her eyes are soft, reflecting a vulnerability that tugs at something deep inside me. "It was just a lot, but I’m okay now."
I drop my head a little, so we’re eye level, searching her face for any sign that she’s not being honest. "You sure?" I ask, my voice rougher than I intend. I need to know she’s okay, but there’s more to it than that. I need to stay close to her, to feel the heat of her body lingering against mine.
Violet nods, and in that moment, she pokes her tongue out, just the slightest bit, to wet her lips, and I’m riveted. My focus narrows in on that small, innocent action, and suddenly, all I can think about is how soft those lips must be, how easily I could close the distance and kiss her. My heart pounds in my chest, the logical part of me screaming to get a grip, but it’s useless. I can’t stop staring.
I’m in so much trouble.
"I’m sure," she says, her voice slow, deliberate. There’s something in the way she speaks now, like she feels it too. There’s this thick tension building between us. The heat radiates off her in waves, drawing me in, daring me to make the next move.
My fingers twitch at my side, aching to touch her, to pull her close, but I know if I cross that line, there’s no going back. I swallow hard, trying to rein myself in, but the intensity of the moment refuses to let me go. Violet looks up at me, her lips slightly parted, and I wonder if she’s waiting for me to do something, to act on the tension crackling between us. The space between us feels charged, like we’re standing on the edge of something dangerous, and thrilling.
I force myself to step back, my jaw clenched tight. "Good," I manage to say, but my voice is thick with emotion. "That’s good."
She looks at me for a long moment, like she’s waiting for something more, but I can’t give it to her. Not now. Not when I’m this close to losing control.
I clear my throat, taking a deliberate step back to put some distance between us. "We should head back down," I say, trying to steady my voice, though my pulse still races.
Violet nods, her expression a little guarded now, and she crosses the room toward the door. "Sure, yes," she replies, her tone clipped, like she’s brushing off the tension from moments ago.
I follow her down the stairs, the sound of our footsteps filling the silence between us. By the time we reach the dining room, the lively chatter of my family seems to pull us back into reality. Everyone is getting ready to sit down for dinner, the table crowded with plates and silverware, the smell of herbs and garlic filling the air.
“We have an extra tent, Shep. You could come with us,” Paxton offers, pulling out a chair for Hartford, his wife, so she can sit next to him. There’s a casualness to his suggestion, but also a hopeful note, like he’s trying to gather as many of us as he can for one last summer hurrah.
Shepherd shakes his head, offering an apologetic smile as he rubs a hand over his tired face. “August is teething and not sleeping through the night. Honestly, we’ll have to take a rain check.” His voice is a mix of exhaustion and affection as he looks at Felicity, who’s cradling their fussy baby boy in her arms.
Felicity nods, adjusting August on her hip while settling into her seat next to Hartford. “I wish we could, but it’s just too much right now.”
Hartford leans over, cooing softly to try and soothe the baby. "I’m sorry you can’t come camping with us. I know how hard it is when they’re this little." She casts a sympathetic glance at Felicity before her eyes flick over to me, her expression turning sly. “Why don’t you and Violet join us?” There’s something in her tone, like she knows she’s putting me on the spot.
From across the room, Anya catches onto the suggestion and grins brightly. “I love that idea! You two could use a little getaway.”
I pause, pulling out a chair for Violet before taking my own seat beside her. The thought of camping with the family—especially under these circumstances—feels strange. "In case you’ve forgotten," I say, forcing a light tone, "I’ve got a restaurant to run. And Violet’s busy on the ranch." I glance at her, gauging her reaction. Her expression remains calm, but I can’t tell if she’s relieved or disappointed by the excuse.
Violet lets out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Yeah, there’s no way I could get away right now. The horses don’t take care of themselves." There’s a touch of warmth in her voice.
Paxton leans back in his chair, giving me a knowing look. “You’re missing out, man. You and Violet could use some time away from all the work. Plus, there’s nothing like a night under the stars.”
“I’m sure it’s great,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant, “but somebody has to run Atta Boy.”
Anya’s face lights up as she smiles at Willow, her best friend. “I heard there’s a waterfall with a small lake where we can go swimming. Doesn’t that sound amazing? I think it’ll be so nice to get away for a bit.” She turns her attention to Tripp, who’s sitting across the table. “You sure you can’t push things with the book tour back, Tripp?” she asks, hope still lingering in her voice.
Tripp exchanges a glance with Millie, who’s sitting beside him, before shaking his head. “Sorry, Anya. Dates are already booked, and I’ve got events lined up.” His tone is apologetic, but there’s an undercurrent of excitement about his new book tour.
Anya’s smile fades a little, but she quickly recovers, brushing it off. “That’s a bummer,” she says, leaning back in her chair.
Griffin chimes in, offering Tripp a supportive grin. “But also great for you, man. We’re all really proud of you. Getting a book tour is a big deal.” His arm rests around Anya’s shoulders as he squeezes her gently, trying to ease her disappointment.
The conversation shifts smoothly, the focus now on Tripp and the success of his latest book, rather than the camping trip. Tripp starts talking about his upcoming tour stops and the cities he’s excited to visit, and everyone seems genuinely interested.
I lean back in my chair, momentarily relieved that the pressure’s off me. But as the conversation drifts, I can’t help but feel a slight pang of nostalgia. I haven’t been up to the mountains in years, not since I was a kid. The memory of those trips—hiking through the woods, swimming in cold, clear lakes, and sitting around campfires under a blanket of stars—makes me wonder if maybe I’m missing out. But then again, those trips were simpler, when life wasn’t tangled up with responsibilities, businesses to run, and complicated marriages.
Willow, who’s been quietly listening to the conversation, glances my way with a soft smile. “You know, Callum, you could always take a weekend off. It wouldn’t hurt to let someone else run things for a couple of days.” Her tone is light, but there’s a hint of a challenge in her eyes.
I smile back, though it doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “Maybe one day,” I reply, knowing full well that I’m dodging the suggestion. There’s just too much going on right now to even consider stepping away.
But as the conversation continues, and my family talks about Tripp’s book tour and the potential camping trip, I find my thoughts drifting back to the mountains. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst idea to go back, to reconnect with that part of myself I’ve kept tucked away for so long.
“It could be your honeymoon,” my mother says, her voice light but filled with that particular tone she uses when she’s making a suggestion that’s more of a command.
“What could be?” I ask, playing dumb, even though I know exactly where this is going.
“The camping trip,” she says, smiling like she’s just come up with the most brilliant idea in the world. “You and Violet, sleeping underneath the stars, spending time together away from everything. It’d be the perfect opportunity to get to know each other better.” She says it so casually, like it’s no big deal that we just got married on a whim and are now supposed to bond over a campfire and sleeping bags.
Around the table, everyone perks up. Anya claps her hands together, her face lighting up with excitement. “Oh, that’s perfect! A honeymoon in the mountains, just the two of you!” She glances at Griffin, who’s grinning like a fool, probably imagining us roasting marshmallows and snuggling under a shared blanket.
Shep and Pax exchange amused looks, and even Felicity, despite juggling a teething baby, smiles at the thought. “It’d be so romantic,” she says, bouncing August in her lap.
I glance over at Violet, catching her wide-eyed expression. She looks as uncomfortable as I feel. And for a moment, I’m hit with the memory of earlier, when we were alone upstairs, and I almost kissed her. The urge to do it had been so strong, so sudden. The way her blue eyes met mine, the heat between us—it was more intense than I’d expected. And I definitely wanted that kiss more than I should have.
But that’s exactly why we’re not going camping.
I clear my throat and sit up straighter, squashing the idea before it gains any more traction. “Absolutely not,” I say, my tone firm, leaving no room for debate. “We’re not going camping.”
The chatter around the table dies down immediately. All eyes are on me now, and I can feel the weight of their confusion. My mother raises an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by the forcefulness of my response.
“Why not?” Anya asks, genuinely puzzled. “It’d be fun, Callum. You guys could—"
“We’re not going,” I interrupt, sharper this time. I catch Violet’s gaze, and she looks relieved. “We’ve both got things to handle. The restaurant, the ranch… we can’t just drop everything and disappear into the woods for a weekend.”
My mother purses her lips, like she’s trying to decide if she should push the issue. She’s always been the type to believe in grand gestures and romantic getaways, but this is one time I’m not budging.
“Well, I suppose you know best,” she finally says, though her tone is a little disappointed. The others exchange glances, but they don’t press further. The excitement about the camping trip fizzles out, and the conversation shifts back to Tripp’s book tour.
I let out a quiet breath of relief. As much as I’m trying to downplay everything, the truth is, I can’t shake the feeling I’m playing with fire. The more time I spend with Violet, the harder it gets to keep things casual, to remind myself that this is just temporary. And going on a honeymoon —even a makeshift one in the mountains—would only complicate things more.
I just hope nobody notices the way my gaze keeps flicking toward Violet, or how I can still feel the pull between us, no matter how hard I try to ignore it.