12. Chapter 12
Alexander spent the week up Violet’s ass. I haven’t been able to get her alone since that night I first saw them together. And she’s pissed at me for kissing her in front of him.
I tried apologizing by texting her, to which Emma told me I was an idiot for thinking that would work. Clearly she was right because I haven’t heard from Violet yet.
I saw Alexander’s car pull out this morning and my quick check of the booking system says he’s gone for a glorious two days, coming back Sunday night.
So I have two days to get Violet to forgive me. I need Emma’ s help.
Me: I was thinking of cooking for Violet, is that weird? She’s obviously able to do it herself.
Emma: If you ever paid any attention to anything, you’d notice that she eats sandwiches most nights because she’s too tired of cooking to even put something in the microwave.
Me: So that’s a yes on cooking?
Emma: Sometimes, I question how you run an inn. Yes, that’s a yes on the cooking for Vi. eye roll emoji
Me: Got it. What is her favorite?
Emma: Am I apologizing or are you, Lee? Use your eyeballs and figure it out.
Well that wasn’t very helpful. She’s cranky today. Ugh .
Okay, think. Every time I’ve seen her at Rebels she always gets pizza. So I could do that, a wood fired pizza in the fireplace. Getting her to come to my house is going to be the problem. I can text her and tell her to meet me here, tell her we need to talk about the inn’s contract with the bakery. She’d definitely show up for that.
Me: Hey, can you come over tonight around 6:00 so we can talk about something.
Violet: What?
Me: The bakery contract.
Violet: If you’re going to kick me out just tell me now.
Well. This is backfiring on me.
Me: Of course not. Just come over at 6:00. It’s not bad.
Violet: Fine.
I’ll take that. But she’s definitely pissed at me, and she has every right to be. I fucked up and waited too long to fix it. Now I’m paying the price.
A couple hours later and a trip to the store, I’m stuck in my kitchen fighting with the pizza dough I stupidly made the decision to craft from scratch. I’m sticky, and the counter is covered in dough.
I keep adding more and more flour until luck is finally on my side because it’s not sticking to the counter anymore at least.
The dough stops sticking to my fingers and I place one on each of the pizza stones I have and start to clean up the white powdery mess I’ve made all over my kitchen.
My nervous energy about having Violet over again is carrying me through the clean up process.
What will I do if she doesn’t forgive me? I can’t lose her, even as a friend again. She was my best friend and when she stopped showing up it hurt like hell. I showed up at the bakery everyday that summer to ask Margaret if she’d changed her mind and decided to come overnight. Eventually I got the picture, she wasn’t coming back. But now she has, and I’ve already screwed up my chances with her because I’m so stuck in my past hurt.
Or I was. I am determined to get out of that pattern. I don’t want to be the town recluse that people avoid and whisper about behind my back. Having her back has reminded me what it’s like to have people in your life. It’s reminding me how nice it is to have someone around at the end of the day.
Fixing things with Violet is my first step in that direction.
I place all her favorite toppings on the flattened dough, followed by enough mozzarella cheese that it defies the definition of extra cheese.
Just as I slide them into the fire on the shelf I’ve built, there’s a tentative knock on the door.
Taking a deep breath, I walk toward the door to let Violet in.
When I swing the door open wide to let her in, a scowl is etched on her face. I gulp down the nervousness at her already shitty attitude.
“What do you want Liam?” She stands just barely inside my cabin, with her arms crossed.
“I, uh…I need to apologize for my behavior the other night. I shouldn’t have kissed you.” A flicker of what looks like disappointment crosses her face before the scowl takes up residence again.
“That’s it? You regret kissing me?”
“Well, no. I regret not listening to you the night at Rebels, and before that. And when I tried to claim you in front of Alexander as mine.”
“You should be. I’m not yours Liam. You made that abundantly clear when you couldn’t even trust me to not treat you like every other girl has ever treated you.” She taps her foot, just like Emma.
“I’m so sorry. I should have. I don’t want to lose you—as a friend.” I add in the last part because I think maybe that’s where I need to start over.
“As a friend huh? You were a little extra friendly that night I stayed here.” She raises a brow challenging me and pushing me to tell her more.
“I know. I don’t regret that one bit.” With my admission her face softens a little bit more. She steps further in and peers over at the fireplace.
“Are you making wood fired pizza?” Her eyes light up at the thought.
“Yeah, I see you order pizza from Clark every time we’ve been to Rebels, even if I’m not with you when you’re talking to Roman.”
She narrows her eyes, trying to figure out what I meant by that comment. Hell, I am too. I’m supposed to be making things better, not bringing up how I think she’s flirting with my friend.
“Is the pizza for me too?” she asks.
“Yes, I got all your favorite toppings.” I lace my fingers with hers and lead her to the kitchen where all her favorites are still laid across the island.
“Is this your way of asking me to stay for dinner?” She leans into me, pressing her body against mine.
“Y-y-yes,” her closeness is making me nervous again. “Yes. I am asking you to stay for dinner,” I say more confidently.
“You still haven’t asked me,” she crosses her arms over her chest, staring at me, waiting for me to invite her to stay .
“Will you stay, please? I’d really like to make you dinner.” I try to clasp her hands in mine but she keeps her arms firmly crossed.
“I’d love to, but be careful Liam, your inner nice guy is showing.” She winks, grabbing a bottle of wine from the counter.
I walk to the fireplace to check the pizza with a secret grin on my face. I was successful! She’s staying for dinner, and she doesn’t seem that angry anymore. I just have to keep it together throughout dinner.
Violet plates the pizzas as I cut them, and we take our plates and wine over to the couch.
“I have to ask you, what are you doing over in that barn so late into the night? I thought you went to bed early?” She sips her wine.
“Why haven’t you come to find out?” I cock an eyebrow at her.
“Um, you were being an asshole to me?” she answers like I’m a dumbass who forgot.
“Right. Well. You’ll just have to come find out another night.” I’m too nervous to show anyone else my work. My furniture is all over the inn and the cabins, but no one knows I make more beyond the headboards. Inviting her into my barn is a trust exercise all on its own. Only Emma really knows what I’m doing out there because I had to convince her that the furniture wouldn’t cost us a majority of our profit.
Violet eyes me suspiciously, “Okay then, maybe I will.”
We eat in silence for a few minutes before she hits me with another question .
“Why did it take you so long to talk to me? That’s not like you. You always came to me. I guess I was never on the other end of one of your cold shoulders.”
“Because Alexander was so far up your ass this week, and the last time I came around with him, the urge to let him know you were mine was so strong, I dug myself deeper.” I get up to clear our plates.
“I’m sorry, claim me as yours? And so what if he was being friendly.” She follows me to the kitchen, anger radiating off her.
“He wasn’t friendly. He was flirting. Obviously. And fuck, the guy’s a grade A douchebag. Who the hell needs to wear a suit that probably cost more than my car while he’s sitting around Balsam Cliffs?” I throw the plates with more force than necessary into the sink.
She scoffs, “A professional douchebag who is trying to look nice. And while we’re at it, he is nice. He actually talks to me instead of just grunting at me.”
I pull her to me, flush against my chest. “He isn't nice, Violet. He’s trying to get in your pants for a little work vacation fling on the company’s dime. And I will not let that happen.”
“The fuck you will! What are you going to do about it? I can let anyone I want into my pants thank you very much.”
I lean down, and brush the tip of my nose along her neck making her shiver, “I’m going to remind you why you shouldn’t.”
She begins to melt into me, but suddenly stiffens. “No. You don’t get to do that thing I like and make me all melty for you. You didn’t talk to me. You didn’t come to me. You believed the worst about me, and now that someone else is giving me attention, suddenly you’re sorry?”
She pulls out of my grasp, and takes a step back. The loss of her body in my arms feels like more than just a physical loss. Shit. I fucked up again.
“No—that’s not it all. I wanted to apologize. I knew I needed to, I just—”
“Save it Liam. You don’t get to go all alpha-hole on me when it suits you because you’re jealous. Fuck you. You don’t want me but you don’t want anyone else to have me, is that it? Well newsflash, I already lived that life in New York with my mother. I will not do it here with you.” She snatches the bottle of wine off the counter and storms to the door, slamming her feet into her boots.
“Violet, please,” I plead.
“No. If you want me, earn me. You know where I am.” She slams the door shut, taking my bottle of wine with her.
Fuck.
“Fuck!” I growl out into the empty space.
I grab my phone and text Emma, the one person who will know what to do.
Me: I messed up.
Emma: Seriously? Again? You had pizza, how do you mess up when you’re giving a girl food and wine?
Me: I mentioned Alexander. And I might have told her she was mine.
Emma: face palm emoji You had o.n.e. job. Apologize and play nice.
Me: Not actually helping, what do I do now?
Emma: Go cry into your wine, because you lost her.
Me: She took the wine.
Emma: Well brother, you are well and truly fucked now aren’t you?
I toss my phone back onto the counter. How did this happen? Things were going well! We were bantering, she was leaning into me, we had wine, great food.
I got greedy. That’s what happened. I didn’t take it slow like I should have. Earned her back as a friend.
Her last words burn into my memory as I turn the shower on and let the bathroom fill with steam.
If you want me, earn me.
It sounds like a challenge, and I love nothing more than a challenge, especially when the prize is Violet.
Sleep never came last night. I’ve been in the barn since I gave up on sleep around two in the morning. I saw every minute on the clock, and each tick made me want to crawl out of my skin.
So here I am, focused on a new project. A larger table to go in the dining room. Now that we have life in the kitchen again, we need the table space.
One thing my grandfather always said was that we shouldn’t have more than one table. Everyone who stays here is family, and families eat together. While the space doesn’t totally lend itself to that, I have as few tables as we can to accommodate.
But being that this table is being built because of Violet’s cooking, doesn’t help keep my mind off her.
The way she sings and dances while she cooks, the way she makes sure to listen to the guests and incorporates their favorite foods when they’re staying, the way her ass looks when she bends to get something out of the oven. All those things are on a constant loop in my brain right now.
Alongside the thoughts of Alexander admiring those things about her.
I slam the hammer harder than needed at that thought. At least it’s good rage therapy to build something.
Midnight bounces on the table as I hammer in new boards for the old farmhouse table. It doesn’t phase her though, she’s used to me working around her, and she’s just happy to have pets every few minutes when I walk by her. She stands up and curls back up inside the blanket I brought over for her, switching the side she’s laying on. I’ve noticed her favoring her left side, I need to get her to the vet. But as soon as she sees the carrier, she runs and doesn’t come back for a few days .
“Sorry girl. I’m done hammering for now.” I place a gentle kiss on the top of her head between her ears.
She purrs in response, at least I can manage to keep my foot out of my mouth with one woman.
I’m pulling the tape measurer across the boards when I hear footsteps at the front of the barn. I quickly rush out there, Emma shouldn’t be here for a few hours and no one else should be coming in here.
“Mornin’ Son.”
“Hey Pops, what are you doing out here so early?” Usually he’ll pop by a couple days a week but not 'til the afternoon.
“I really wanted to talk to you before Emma came home. About something kind of important.” He wrings his hands together, nervously.
I’m instantly worried that something is wrong with him or Mom. They’re both slowing down in their older age, but as far as I know, Dad was cleared healthy as can be after his rehab a couple months ago.
“Okay, let’s meet at the inn in 5 minutes? I’ve got to clean up here, and you can grab some coffee and a muffin?”
He nods and leaves the barn toward the inn.
I run back to clean up what I was working on so Midnight doesn’t hurt herself on any of the tools. She never has, but I’m always careful to clean things up before I leave for more than a few minutes.
I make it to the office in record time. Ready to get this conversation over with, and know what’s going on that Pops wanted to get up early to beat Emma here to have a conversation .
I join him at the table, not going to the kitchen first to see Violet like I so desperately want to since I know she’s in there.
“Son, this is important. I want you to listen and not freak out. Promise?”
“Yeah, Pops. What is so wrong?” I fidget with my jacket under the table.
“You need to quit this dream of keeping the inn going. You won’t be able to do it, and I can’t have you buried under my mess.”
I stay quiet, staring at him for a second before I respond. I need to absorb what he’s just said. I thought we were past this mess with him wanting to sell the inn.
“Now, I was contacted by a company, they want to buy the land and the inn. It’s a good price, you could buy a house, and start something you really love.” He keeps talking, but nothing he’s saying is making sense.
“What?” I finally stutter out. “You want me to just give up? After everything we’ve done, everything we want to do, everything we have planned? Pops, Emma is real excited about coming back after college to work with me. I can’t just give it up. We have dreams and plans. This was Granddad's dream. I’m not giving up.”
Pops slams his hands down on the table, causing Violet to pop her head in the door. Our eyes lock and I shake my head once. She looks between us and goes back to the kitchen.
“It’s not a question. You’ve got to. You can’t do this anymore. You can’t afford it. My mistakes will bury ya,” he repeats.
“What mistakes?” Wyatt’s voice comes from behind me.
“Ah hell. Now there’s two of ya.” Dad shakes his head.
“What. Mistakes?” I repeat Wyatt’s question again, slowly .
“Alright, I’m just going to throw it out there. I took out a mortgage on this place years and years ago. I’ve been robbing Peter to pay Paul.” He drops his head in shame.
“What do you mean a mortgage? This inn has been paid off since before Granddad passed away, since before you took ownership. There was nothing about a mortgage when I took over. In any of the paperwork.” I lean forward on the table, Wyatt takes the seat next to me. It would appear it’s us against Pops at this moment.
“I had to. I couldn’t afford to keep the place when you all started going to college. It needed too many repairs. Now that I’ve been in the hospital, I had no one to pay the bill. They’re talkin’ foreclosure.” At least he has the decency to look at me as he says this.
“Does Mom know?” Wyatt asks.
Pops shakes his head, “No one else knows. Just me. And now you two.”
“How much is left on the loan?” I ask.
“A hundred thousand. I’m six thousand behind right now. You won’t be able to make that by Valentine’s Day. You need to take the opportunity. Sell to this company and run with the money before the bank sells it for pennies on the dollar to the same men.” He pleads with me to take this deal he’s offering me as a gift. Except it’s not.
“No. He won’t do that. Liam lives and breathes for this inn, Pops. You know that. How could you do this to him?” Wyatt sticks up for me.
“I’ll get the six thousand. Just give me the paperwork so I can go talk to the bank.” I lean back in my chair and rub my hands over my face.
Why is this happening? We were finally turning a profit, out of the red. We were finally able to save some money, and really put a dent in the rehab fund Emma started.
“You need to tell Emma, Pops. She needs to know there’s a massive hole in the accounts.” I brace my hands on the table, feeling that familiar feeling of wanting to crawl out of my skin again, only this time, I can’t slam a hammer down to feel better.
“I can’t. I can’t let my baby girl look at me like I’m any less than the man who hung the moon for her. I just can’t. Please just take the offer.” He slides a business card with a number on the back of it across the table, “That number there is their offer.”
Damn that’s a lot of zeroes. Images of what I could do with that money and time flash through my mind. The freedom to finally do whatever I want. But the stark reality is that I’m doing what I want. I want this inn. Even if I feel tethered to it at times.
“No. I won’t.” I pass the card to Wyatt and his eyes widen at the number. But he pushes it back to Pops in solidarity with me. I appreciate that gesture more than he’ll ever know.
Pops pushes his chair back and gets up from the table. “Think about it, would ya? I’ll keep this safe.”
He tucks the card back in his pocket and walks out of the inn, back to his car.
Once the front door clicks shut, Wyatt lets out a breath I didn’t realize he’d been holding.
“Fuck man, what are we going to do?”
“We? It’s my name on all this shit. If we go under, I have nothing. You still have your house, and your job. It’s me and Emma who are fucked. Except she’s got her whole career ahead of her when she graduates. What the hell am I supposed to do?”
“Listen, I know I’ve been a shitty brother, but you’re not in this alone. We’re here to help you, even if that’s financially instead of with labor. Don’t shut us out again, please?” He gets up and goes to the kitchen, leaving me at the table alone with my thoughts.
How the hell did no one in this tiny ass town who gossips and knows everyone’s damn business, not think to tell me that my goddamn inn was about to be in foreclosure? I’m in that bank every week, no one ever thought to pull me aside and tell me about this secret mortgage, we, I wasn’t paying?
“That smoke is about to come out your ears, Lee. You need to go cool down. Take a minute. Let’s rally the troops and we’ll worry about it then when we have everyone. No sense in stressing out now.” Wyatt tries to calm me down as he sits back down with a plate overflowing with pastries.
“Where the hell does all that go?” I nod toward his plate of calories.
“I work out a lot. Lots of cardio,” he winks.
“Yeah, we all get stuck with the aftermath of your cardio sessions.” I shudder at the thought of another sit down with Tiff at Rebels.
“Sounds like you need some cardio, oh Viol-—” I smack his forehead and steal a muffin. “Hey!” he protests.
“Fuck you. I’m outta here. Are you hanging around for Emma or going home?”
“Home. I’m beat after last night. I can’t wait to not be the newbie so I can be on day shift.” He yawns as if reminded that he was tired before coming to steal the food that we might not be able to pay for anymore.
“Great. Text me later when you get a date everyone can meet.”
“Love you too, Lee!” He yells at my retreating form.
I toss him the middle finger in response. It’s our love language.