38. Violet
Chapter 38
Violet
T he Black Dog is a madhouse.
It’s supposed to be a calm, professional setting for our interview with People Magazine, but I should’ve known better. When Will arranged this, we mostly wanted to counteract the negative publicity we’ve had since Stella dropped her bombs. And we were offered a nice chunk of money from doing the interview that will go towards the startup of our new label.
This is Bridger Falls. And they know what a big deal this is, and they're taking full advantage of this and giving us hell.
The interviewer, Laura, who appears to be questioning her life choices, sits across from me and Walker at a booth, her notebook poised, her phone recording between us.
Walker, as expected, looks like he’s five seconds from chewing through the wooden table to escape.
Maggie is perched at the bar, sipping her sweet tea like she’s watching the best soap opera of her life. She's not holding back, adding her commentary whenever she sees fit. My mom sits next to her, and I forgot what it’s like when those two conspire together. It's like double trouble .
Cami and Poppy have stationed themselves in the booth directly behind us, pretending they’re not listening but failing spectacularly.
And Mack?
She’s sitting in the corner with her phone propped up on a napkin holder, recording the whole thing like she’s our self-appointed PR manager.
“This is historic,” she mutters, typing furiously on her iPad. “I should do a live.”
Walker groans. “Mack.”
She grins. “Not a chance, Cowboy Daddy.”
The interviewer pauses mid-question. “I’m sorry… Cowboy Daddy?”
Cami bursts out laughing.
Poppy wheezes.
I try to keep it together and be serious, but I'm practically vibrating from holding my laughter in.
Maggie clucks her tongue like this is the burden she carries in life.
Walker closes his eyes, praying for patience. “It’s an internet thing.”
Mack grins. “And by internet thing, he means he’s a full-blown thirst trap now.”
The interviewer jots something down. “So, the internet loves you.”
Walker’s left eye twitches. “I am not answering that.”
Cami leans over. “You should see the fan pages. There’s artwork, Laura.”
Poppy nods seriously. “They’ve given him a fictional tragic backstory and everything. That’s why this article is so important. I mean…no pressure, Laura.”
Walker slams his forehead onto the table. “I hate this town.”
The interviewer, clearly trying to regain control, clears her throat. “Right. So, let’s talk about the music. Walker, you left the industry for a long time. What changed?”
Walker exhales, lifting his head, and for the first time all afternoon, he actually relaxes. His hand finds mine under the table, his thumb running along my knuckles, and my stomach flutters violently.
“She did,” he says simply, nodding toward me.
My throat closes up.
The interviewer leans in. “You mean Violet?”
Walker nods, completely sure, completely steady. “She’s the real deal. The best damn woman I know.”
The world tilts.
Maggie sniffs dramatically, dabbing at her eyes with a cocktail napkin. “Lord above, I knew I loved you, Walker. Somebody get me my wedding hat.”
Poppy clutches her chest. “Romance is alive.”
Cami, grinning like a lunatic, whispers, “I love love.”
I stare at Walker, my heart pounding so loud I swear everyone can hear it.
And then Laura, sensing the perfect moment, asks, “So what’s next for you two? More performances?”
And before I can even process the question, Walker leans forward and says, “We’re starting our own label.”
Silence.
I blink.
The interviewer blinks.
Poppy drops her entire drink on the table.
Maggie gasps so dramatically it could win an Oscar.
Mack’s phone clatters to the floor. “WHAT?”
I turn to Walker and grin. “We are.”
He smirks. “Yeah, we are."
The interviewer, clearly realizing she just got the scoop of the century, scrambles for her notebook. “A record label? ”
Walker nods, totally unbothered by the fact that I am currently suffering from emotional whiplash. “Red Records. We’re doing this together.”
My heart stutters. Because that’s what gets me. Not just the label. The “we.”
And we never discussed the name. But I love it. I keep it together in front of Laura, but the minute I have Walker alone, I’m kissing the hell out of him.
He says it like it was always the plan. Like he couldn’t imagine it any other way. And just like that, Red Records is born.
Somehow, afterward, we get roped into a photo shoot back at the house.
Literally.
Maggie, clearly running the operation now, hands us a lasso and tells us to ‘make it look natural.’
Walker, who has zero interest in being a model, is currently leaning against his horse, looking so ruggedly perfect that it’s actually rude.
I, meanwhile, am trying not to pass out because Walker in his element is a lot to handle.
The photographer says, “Okay, let’s get a shot of you two on your horses.”
Walker smirks. “You think you can handle riding with me, Red?”
I smirk back. “I’ll ride with you anytime, Asher.”
Cami, from the sidelines, claps her hands. “Yes. This photo is an album cover.”
Poppy nods. “Perfect photo for the magazine cover.”
Mack, snapping a photo on her phone, mutters, “The internet is gonna lose their minds.”
Walker chuckles, adjusting his hat. “We done here?”
Maggie waves him off. “Oh, hush, you look sohandsome.”
The photographer takes a few more shots before stepping back. “Alright, that’s a wrap. This is going to look amazing.”
Walker leans over from the saddle, eyes locked on me. “You know, Red, I think I like this whole ‘working together’ thing.”
I grin. “Oh yeah?”
He smirks. “Yeah. Especially when you’re looking at me like that.”
My heart flips.
Mack groans. “Oh my God, just kiss her already.”
Walker grins. “Well. Can’t argue with that.”
And before I can process anything, he leans towards me and kisses me, right there on horseback, with the sunset behind us while we’re on our horses.
Maggie claps.
Cami swoons.
Poppy yells, “Hallmark worthy.”
Mack, already typing, mutters, “This is so going viral.”
And me? I just melt into Walker, surrounded by the chaos, the love, and the absolute insanity that is Bridger Falls.
Because this? This is home.
And I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.