Chapter Nine Violet
Chapter Nine
Violet
Hells to the yes!
Damn. Charlie Huxley had just lived up to every fantasy I’d had about him, and our clothes had remained on.
I blew out a breath and smiled as I slowly slid down his body. “Well, I think we’re going to have to change your name to Hard as a Rock Huxley.”
He roared in laughter, and when Charlie Huxley did that, it always felt like you were witnessing something special.
Something that he hid from the rest of the world.
But maybe I was just being nostalgic after having the world’s best orgasm.
I have a new theory that dry humping is an underestimated form of foreplay.
“It beats Sir Limps a Lot.”
“I feel a little bad that I ruined your date, and now I just humped you like a rabid horndog, and you are still, er, in a state of discomfort.” I glanced down at his tented pants.
“I wasn’t going to come in my pants like a prepubescent teenager and allow you to taunt me for the rest of my life,” he said, feigning irritation, but he looked like he was quite proud of himself.
“You’re a wise man, Charles.” I bit down on my bottom lip because I was still completely turned on, but I didn’t want to appear desperate. “I guess it’s better to suffer than to let me gloat.”
Should I offer to help him out?
No. This was a one-kiss deal. I just got greedy and tossed in a little happy ending for myself.
“Damn straight. And don’t you worry,” he said, smirking the slightest bit as he reached for the door handle. “I’ll go take care of myself in the shower, thinking about you grinding that sweet pussy of yours all over my cock, all desperate and needy.”
Oh. No. He. Didn’t.
I squeezed my thighs together and did my best to act unaffected. “Impressive dirty talk for a man who doesn’t like to speak all that much.”
He tossed me a wink and walked right out the door. I watched as he crossed the yard and stepped inside, and then I closed the door and leaned my back against it.
Was I sweating?
And why was I panting?
Damn you, Charlie Huxley.
“So, after giving all those hashtags to Jules and Carter, I hate to tell you, but they settled on hashtag ‘we said yes,’” Montana said.
I closed my eyes and feigned sleep, even adding a few fake snores for dramatic effect.
“Damn. I hate when they go with the boring option,” I groaned.
“Why not spice it up? Live on the edge. You only get married once, right? I mean, that’s the goal, but I can’t say that failed marriages are bad for business.
That just means we get to plan the next one. ”
I tossed a Skittle in the air and caught it in my mouth before doing it a few more times with the handful of candy I had in my palm.
Montana paused, hands on her hips, as she studied me. “What is going on with you today? You’re all hopped up.”
“I agree. I mean, you’re normally sort of hopped up, but today you seem, I don’t know, like you ate an energy bar—or six,” Blakely deadpanned. “Did Velveteen change her hashtag?”
“Of course not. She’s sticking with hashtag ‘we said I Doobie.’” I rolled my eyes, because it wasn’t my favorite, but God forbid my sister take my advice. She was the one who’d be stuck with the name Velveeta Doobie, so who was I to judge.
Actually, I am a wedding planner, that’s who.
It’s what I did for a living.
“Nope. It’s not about that,” Montana pressed. “She’s hiding something. I can tell. She’s got that look on her face.”
I leaned back in my chair, propping my stilettos on the conference room table like a boss lady. “I had a hot make-out session with Charles last night.”
Montana’s mouth fell open, and Blakely pushed back in her chair abruptly. The wheels slid a little too fast before it slammed into the wall behind her.
“You made out with Charlie Huxley?” Blakely shouted.
“Way to be discreet,” I hissed. “And this is why I hesitated to tell you.”
“I think you hesitated to tell us because you don’t want to admit that you like him, when you are so determined to hate the man.” Montana was laughing hysterically now.
“I do hate the man,” I said dryly. “But that doesn’t mean I hate kissing him.”
“I’m guessing it was good then?” Montana asked as she took the seat beside me and leaned in, like this was a dirty little secret we were sharing.
I guess it was in a way.
I made out with the enemy, after all.
“Of course. It figures, right? The man I despise is hot as hell, and let me tell you, he’s packing the goods.”
Blakely clapped her hands together. “How do you know? And did he find out about what you’d told Julia?”
“He sure did. He came barreling over to the guesthouse to give me a piece of his mind, and instead, I climbed the man like a tree.”
“Oh, this was more than just a kiss?” Montana said, then turned her attention to Blakely, who groaned, moved to her feet, and stormed out the door.
“Where is she going?” I asked.
“You’ll see,” my bestie said with a playful grin on her face.
Blakely soon returned and handed Montana ten bucks. “I did not see it going down this quickly.”
“‘Going down’? No one went down. Though I’m sure the man would do magical things with that mouth of his,” I said with a laugh. “Why are you paying her?”
“We had a bet that you and Charlie would hook up before the end of the month.” Montana shrugged, tucking the money in her pocket.
“Well, it was a one and done. He already annoyed me this morning when I went over to cook some eggs before work.”
“You sure spend a lot of time over there.” Blakely pursed her lips like she’d just put me in my place.
“I have no oven.” I tossed my hands in the air.
“Please,” Montana said. “You live on Skittles and pizza rolls. You hardly need an oven. Now you’re cooking two meals a day at the Huxleys’, like you’re Martha freaking Stewart.”
“I think you want to bone big bad Charlie,” Blakely said over a fit of laughter.
I shook my head with disbelief. “We can’t stand one another. It was a buildup of sexual frustration that we worked out in one epic make-out session.”
“You know attraction doesn’t just usually fizzle that easily,” Blakely said. “I mean, if the make-out session had been a disappointment, or an epic fail—sure, I’d buy the ‘one and done’ idea. But I don’t think that’s the case here.”
“Agreed. You could always just have one of those flings where you just get it out of your system,” my best friend said, as if she’d invented the idea.
“No way. We aren’t going there. The man is still renovating my home, and I’m living in his backyard. What if he got attached? I can’t risk it.” I chuckled.
“It’s Charlie. He doesn’t seem like the clingy type,” Montana said. “I think you’re afraid that you might get attached. Would that really be the worst thing in the world?”
I rolled my eyes before popping a few Skittles in my mouth and then glancing down at my phone when it vibrated. I read the text and held my phone up for them to read it.
Sexy Tourist Brayden: Hey there, beautiful. Are we still on for dinner tonight?
“Oh, yes. The lawyer from Boston. I forgot about him,” Blakely said, clapping her hands together. “You said he was very charming.”
“He was.” I grinned at her before typing a response.
“Well, he is persistent. I’ll give him that,” Montana said.
Me: Yes. I’ll meet you at Sonny’s Ranch House at 6pm?
Sexy Tourist Brayden: Are you sure I can’t pick you up?
Me: I’m sure. I’ll see you there.
I preferred to meet a guy at a public place, because I never wanted to be trapped in someone’s car. I liked to have an exit strategy.
Always.
I’d met him at the diner last week when I was having lunch with Montana, and the man kept smiling at me before he finally walked over and introduced himself.
He was charming enough, and he’d asked where I worked, and he later sent flowers to the Blushing Bride.
He asked me to dinner on the card and left his cell number.
I’d texted a thank-you message, and we’d chatted a few times over the last few days.
I’d agreed to dinner tonight, and we’d go from there.
“Exactly. I hadn’t expected him to keep messaging, but apparently, he’s in town for a couple weeks, and dinner with a good-looking man doesn’t sound like a terrible idea.”
“You’re taking your own car, right?” Montana asked.
“Yes, Mom. I’ll be taking myself to and from dinner.” I laughed. “Unless I feel the need to extend our evening.”
“I want text updates about your whereabouts.” She reached for her phone when it buzzed, and I promised I’d keep her updated before I made my way to my office.
I had a meeting with my stepmother and my sister in an hour and a bunch of paperwork to finish.
Once I’d sat down at my desk and turned on my computer, Charlie’s name was at the top of my email, and I clicked to open his message.
Ms. Beaumont,
I received your lengthy email with the list of things you’d like to add to the job, and I think we can fit them all in and still stay on track with your timeline.
We are hanging the chandelier (the one you most recently chose after three changes) in the dining room this afternoon and the kitchen cabinets will be installed today and tomorrow.
Also, thank you for the eggs this morning. Harper refuses to eat eggs, yet she ate all of the eggs you made for us this morning, so whatever you put in them was pure magic. I appreciate it. But if you tell anyone I said that, I’ll deny it.
Mr. Huxley
I chuckled. I’d started going over every morning to make breakfast, and this morning they were running late for school, so I just made extra eggs. It wasn’t a big deal if I scrambled two eggs or six eggs.
Mr. Huxley,
Thank you for the update. I’ll be stopping by later today to check on the progress. That third choice on the chandelier was a real winner. Can’t wait to see it. I’m also very excited about the new cabinets.
As far as the eggs go, I hate to give my trade secrets away, but I used salt and pepper. It’s an old family recipe that I planned to take to the grave, but seeing as you’re so interested, I thought I should share.
Ms. Beaumont
The emails were ridiculous because we also texted throughout the day. Usually about the renovation at my house, or something with the guesthouse. Or sometimes it was just to give one another shit.
I got back to work, typing up a few contracts and updating a few things on QuickBooks before getting ready for my Zoom meeting, when my phone vibrated with a text.
Charles: You were right. It looks great.
Me: Damn. It’s perfect. Thank you for arguing with me and insisting I was wrong.
Charles: My pleasure. It’s what I do best.
Me: I’ll head over as soon as I get out of my meeting.
Charles: No changes, Firefly. We’re cruising now. Everything is ordered and we’re on track.
I chuckled before turning my laptop to face me, and I clicked on the Zoom link. I spent the next forty minutes being insulted by Pissy Missy, who asked me multiple times if I was sure I could handle an event like this.
She also wanted reassurance that Montana would be there as well.
Velveteen was actually more pleasant than usual. I kept my cool, showed them the drawing for the outdoor space with the tents and chandeliers, and finalized the colors of the linens and floral arrangements.
Missy continued to grill me, and I did my best to bite my tongue before ending the call.
I made my way to my house and was thrilled with the progress. The chandelier looked great, as expected from the photo that Charlie had sent. The cabinets were partly installed, and I loved the sage-green color that I’d chosen even more in person.
But there was no sign of Charlie, and it surprised me that I was disappointed that he wasn’t here.
Was I a glutton for punishment?
Did I get a sick joy out of being aggravated?
I mean, look at your family. Maybe you are predisposed to this type of behavior.
“It looks great, Will. Thank you so much,” I said, making my way toward the door.
“Yeah. You’ve got a great eye. Even Charlie said so.” He chuckled. “He likes to give you a hard time, but between me and you, after we installed the chandelier and he looked at the cabinets, he told me that you could be an interior designer.”
I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. “Wow. A compliment from Charlie Huxley, huh?”
He shrugged. “There’s no denying you’ve got talent. Look at this place. It’s really something.”
“Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I was proud of the fact that I’d purchased my first home. And as much as the flood had been a frustrating experience, I was enjoying renovating the place and making it my own.
And I didn’t even mind living in Charlie Huxley’s guesthouse.
In fact, I was enjoying being there.
I sat on a barstool in the tiny bathroom getting ready for my date, and for whatever reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about that damn kiss with Charlie.
I’d definitely need to kiss Brayden tonight so I’d have something new to think about.
I slipped into my dark jeans and a cream sweater that hung off one shoulder, showing a little bit of skin.
I wore my heeled black boots and drove the short distance to Sonny’s Ranch House.
Brayden was waiting for me outside when I pulled into the lot.
He was tall, his blond hair was cut short, and he wore a black trench coat.
He helped me as I stepped out of the car before placing his hand on the small of my back and leading me inside.
We found a quiet table in the back and ordered steak and lobster, and the conversation flowed. He was nice and smart and even a little funny.
But I wasn’t feeling it.
Not even a little bit.
I kept checking my phone to see if Charlie had texted, as I usually went over to make something for dinner.
But he hadn’t messaged.
I tried hard to focus on Brayden as he told me about a recent case he’d taken on against a large corporation.
It was interesting. But my mind was elsewhere.
“So tell me about the wedding business. You’ve built quite a company, from what I can tell.”
I nodded and finished chewing the most delicious lobster. “Yes, we’re packed for the next year, and business is good.”
My gaze moved as if it were being pulled by a force.
Steve the owner moved past our table, with Charlie Huxley beside him.
The man I was trying hard not to think about just walked right past me.