Chapter Eleven Violet
Chapter Eleven
Violet
“Violet makes the best eggs,” Harper said as I set down the plate in front of her. It had become our routine the last few weeks. “But now that you got her a new oven, she won’t come make me eggs.”
“I do know how to make eggs, Harps,” Charlie grumped, like I had caused his daughter to turn against him and his cooking.
The new oven had arrived yesterday, and Charlie was going to install it today.
“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. My eggs are clearly better than yours.” I smiled, and he rolled his eyes.
Harper was laughing, and what I’d quickly learned is that Harper Huxley was not the norm for a six-year-old.
I didn’t typically like kids, but this little girl could be my Mini Me.
She was the wittiest six-year-old I’d ever met.
She gave me all the first-grade classroom gossip at the end of the day, because I cooked dinner over here most evenings.
So I was spending a lot of time with these two, and I didn’t mind it at all, which was also weird.
My biggest issue . . . the fact that I was ridiculously attracted to the world’s most aggravating man.
We texted all day, mostly about my house renovation, a lot of it unnecessary but a reason to talk, but occasionally it would turn flirty.
We hadn’t crossed the line again, but that kiss was still haunting me.
“She’s six. She’s hardly a reliable critic.” He stood and reached for our plates.
“Daddy, your eggs aren’t bad, they just aren’t as good as Vi’s. But I still love you. And all your other food is my favorite.”
“Well, that’s a good thing, seeing as you’re kind of stuck with me, baby girl. Now go brush your teeth, and I’ll get you to school.”
“You know I love you more than all the stars in the sky, Daddy.” Harper moved to her feet.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Love you more than all the fish in the sea, Harps. Get going,” he said.
These two. They were something else.
And seeing Charlie with his daughter did something to me.
Something I couldn’t explain.
I glanced over to see his back to me as he rinsed off the dishes. His broad shoulders strained against the black long-sleeve henley he was wearing. My gaze moved down his long, lean legs covered by dark denim, leading to a pair of brown work boots.
Why does he have to be so sexy?
I moved to my feet abruptly. “Okay, I’ve got to go. I forgot I have a meeting. Tell Harps I’ll see her tonight to go over the party plans.”
He turned around, grabbing a towel to dry his hands as he studied me. “It’s nice of you to do this. It’ll make her happy to be included.”
I’d basically taken over Harper’s birthday party, as she and I had been discussing it for a while now.
“Not a problem. We need to go over the balloon design for the swag anyway.” I cleared my throat, as it was getting more difficult to be around this man. “And you have the key to the guesthouse to install the new oven today, right?”
He had a slight smile on his lips, as if he found the question comical. “I do, Firefly. I’ll take care of it.”
The words rolled off his tongue like butter.
Melted butter.
Melted hot butter.
I’ll take care of it.
My God, what was happening to me?
I walked backward and tripped over the leg of the chair before righting myself and rushing out the door.
Air.
I needed air.
I took a few deep breaths once I was outside and decided to walk to work, seeing as the sun was shining and the weather was warming up. I needed to clear my head.
My phone vibrated with a text from Brayden. The man was relentless. It was clear the way the date had ended weeks ago that there weren’t any sparks between us, yet he was a persistent guy.
Brayden: I’m leaving town tomorrow and thought I could buy you dinner tonight and maybe enough drinks to convince you to come home with me?
The comment rubbed me wrong, but it wouldn’t have mattered if he was a complete gentleman, because my mind was on one man, and one man only.
Getting hung up on Charlie Huxley was not the norm for me. He was admittedly not looking for a relationship, and he aggravated me more often than he didn’t—not to mention the fact that I’d have to be around him often due to our mutual friends.
This is why we both knew it was just a bad idea to even go there.
I promised Harper I’d draw the balloon swag design for her and we’d work on the final details for her big day, and I was actually looking forward to it. She had so many ideas, and I wanted to make this seven-year-old’s birthday wishes come true.
Me: Sorry I can’t make it tonight, but I appreciate the invite. Safe travels home.
I came to a stop when I spotted Clifford Wellhung walking down Main Street. He had his back to me, his unusually large balls dangling between his legs as he swayed from side to side. He stopped in front of the Blushing Bride and stared in the large front window. This was a daily routine for him.
And who was I to rush an alpha moose with big balls?
“Hey, Violet,” Brit Hansen said as she walked up to stand beside me. She owned the mobile spray-tan business in town, which was a huge thorn in the side for Montana and me. She’d spray-painted more brides neon orange than she hadn’t.
“Hi, Brit, how are you?”
“Good. Just heading to the Brown Bear Diner for some breakfast, but I sure as hell don’t want to get in Clifford’s way.” She chuckled.
We both waited until the giant moose decided to move on.
“Let him get a few feet farther before you start walking,” I said.
“You know, I was actually going to call you today. I know you’re living out in Charlie Huxley’s guesthouse, and I wondered if you had any intel on the man?”
I looked at her. “‘Intel’?”
“You know, does he bring women home? I heard from Julia Warren that he liked to play hard to get. And let’s just say, I don’t mind chasing that man if it means I could catch him.” She laughed, and my hands bunched at my sides.
Why does this infuriate me?
Why did I have the sudden urge to scratch her eyes out?
“I don’t know, Brit. I’d try treating him with some respect, and not like a piece of meat,” I hissed.
“What?” she shrieked. “You can’t stand the man. Everyone knows that.”
“Correct. He’s aggravating as hell, but he’s also a really decent man.
A good father. A good contractor. A good friend.
Maybe if you just try talking to him instead of talking about him, he’ll actually engage.
” I stormed off and reached for the door handle, hearing her mutter apologies behind me, but I just walked inside.
“What is happening here?” Blakely asked as I made my way to the candy jar, took off the lid, and grabbed a handful of Skittles.
“Oh boy. We’re diving into the Skittles before eight a.m. That’s never a good sign,” Montana said, motioning for us to follow her into the staff lounge. It’s where we ate lunch. Where we brainstormed on the whiteboard. And where we usually had full-blown therapy sessions.
I dropped to sit in my usual seat at the table. Montana settled beside me, and Blakely was directly across from me.
“What’s with the attitude today?” Blakely asked.
“Brit Hansen and Julia Warren are talking about Charlie like he’s a piece of meat. It’s appalling.” I threw my hands in the air. “No. It’s disgusting, that’s what it is. Absolutely disgusting!”
Montana smirked. “Well, one woman turns people an unnatural mango color for a living, and the other asked Myles if she could test her pink hair color out on Porky.”
Now it was Blakely’s turn to laugh. “She wants to color your porcupine’s hair?”
My bestie and her fiancé had had a full mini house built outside for Porky, the local porcupine who was a bit of a nuisance in their backyard. But that spiky little rodent was living his best life.
“She does. Obviously, we told her that we would never expose our little boy to toxins like that. And he doesn’t even have real hair. It’s ludicrous,” Montana huffed.
“I mean, it’s not any more ludicrous than the fact that you just called a porcupine ‘our little boy.’”
“Okay, enough about Porky. We can go over his long-term hair goals later.” Montana laughed. “Why are you so pissed off about two women you aren’t even friends with talking about a man you despise?”
“Because she likes Charlie,” Blakely said, looking between us.
“Duh.” Montana rolled her eyes. “I’m trying to get her to admit it.”
“I do not like Charlie. Not the way you think I do. That’s not my thing. But that damn kiss is messing with my head. And I don’t want to go out with anyone else because it’s like this itch that needs to be scratched,” I said, as if I was figuring it out as the words left my mouth.
“Oh, you know what my college roommate called this?” Blakely said, glancing around to make sure no one else could hear her, even though we were the only three people here.
“Sexual frustration?” Montana asked.
“Nope.” Blakely leaned forward, like she was about to tell us the most sinister thing she’d ever shared.
I leaned in, too, because no one liked sinister news as much as I did.
“Banging it out of your system. I think that’s what you and Charlie need to do.
One time. Get it done, and then move forward.
You can go back to being irritated with one another, but the elephant in the room will be gone. ”
“Is the elephant in the room Charlie’s giant schlong?” I asked.
“Didn’t you just get offended by Julia and Brit treating Charlie like a piece of meat?” Montana smirked.
“Correct. But I just admitted that Charles is a good man. It’s not offensive to assume the man has a giant penis.
I’ve dry humped him, for God’s sake. I know it’s there.
I’m just sharing the facts. It’s just science at this point.
I mean, just look at the man’s hands and feet,” I said over my laughter.
“I don’t pay much attention to the size of Charlie’s hands and feet.” Montana leaned back in her chair and studied me. “But I don’t think this is a bad idea. Neither of you is looking for anything serious, but you’re both clearly attracted to one another.”
“So they can just bang it out,” Blakely said, her cheeks turning bright pink as she continued. “Hashtag ‘bang it out with big boy Huxley.’”
“You don’t think this is a bad idea?” I asked Montana, surprised that she was on board with it.
“I actually think it’s a great idea. For both of you. And you’re moving out soon and back into your house, so things will go back to normal. And who knows, you might hate it.”
I thought it over. “You’re right. And for all I know, Charles could be a big dud in the sack.”
“Well, he wasn’t a dud when you humped him like a dog in heat a few weeks ago.” Blakely reached for her coffee, and I chuckled.
“Correct. But in truth, he was just sort of standing there like a tree. I did all the humping.” I shrugged.
“You said he was an amazing kisser,” Montana reminded me.
“That’s true, but you can be a fabulous kisser and a lazy lover. And how the hell am I going to get him on board? He thinks us taking this any further is a terrible idea.”
“What if you approach it like a business deal,” Blakely said. “You know, you just lay out the facts. Remind him that you’re both attracted to one another. You’re both a little, er, frustrated. And you could have a ‘bang it out’ moment and call it done. Never speak of it again.”
“Hmm . . .” I tapped my finger against my lips. “It would have to be during the day, when Harper is at school. I mean, we can’t be acting like feral animals with her in the house.”
“No way. I wouldn’t even expose Porky to that kind of passion,” Montana said with a laugh.
“The last thing I want is to jump Charlie’s bones with your freaky rodent watching.
But I need a plan if I want this to happen.
I’ll have to tease him a little and feel him out before I just ask if he’s game.
Making him jealous would probably do the trick, because he looked wounded that night he saw me out with Brayden.
So if he got jealous, it might cause him to be the one to suggest the ‘bang it out’ idea.
” I pulled out my phone as my fingers hovered over the keyboard.
Me: Let Harper know I will be over tonight to go over the party details.
Charles: Yes. We already discussed this.
The girls hovered over my shoulder, reading the texts along with me.
Me: Well, you’re a little older than me, so I wasn’t sure if you remembered. I’ve got a busy night.
Charles: We’re available. Come over anytime.
“Damn this man. He didn’t take the bait,” I grumped.
“Well, it wasn’t super clear,” Blakely said just as the phone vibrated again, and we all turned our attention back to my phone screen.
Charles: You got a hot date tonight?
I rubbed my hands together mischievously before typing my response.
Me: Would it bother you if I did?
Charles: Nope. And your oven is fixed if you want to have someone over for dinner.
Me: Great. I’ll have to invite him over to the house then seeing as it doesn’t bother you at all.
Charles: I don’t have a problem, but it seems like you do. I think you’re having a hard time shaking that kiss.
Me: Don’t flatter yourself. You’re the one who can’t stop taking cold showers.
Charles: I’m fine. But if you’re struggling, I’d be happy to help.
Me: Hardly. I’m the one who has a date.
“Damn you, Charles. You’re not going to make this easy on me,” I hissed.
“Who are you going to invite to the house?” Blakely gaped at me.
“No one. It’s all part of the plan. Make him jealous. Get him to come up with the idea about Operation Bang It Out,” I said.
“I’m so here for this, but I don’t think this is the way to go about it.” Montana shrugged. “I think you could just suggest it. Pretending you have a date seems like a bad idea.”
“Just trust me. Charles is a complicated man. I need to make him jealous and then let him come up with the idea to seduce me.” I kicked my feet up on the table, crossing my stilettos at the ankles as I popped a few Skittles in my mouth.
It’s game time.