Chapter 31 Violet
VIOLET
All of my excitement comes back in a rush when I see the haul of stuff we got.
The tree has a place of honor in the bed of Sawyer’s truck, all of our bags and boxes of things wrapped up around it.
I’m buzzing for the whole drive back to the house, although the guys also insist on stopping at a hardware store to get some stuff they’ll use to fix my bed.
Once we’ve unloaded everything into my house, Sawyer brushes off his hands, looking around at it all.
“What do you think?” he asks the other two. “Bed first, or decorating?”
“Bed,” Lennox says decisively. “Save the more fun part for last.”
“Good plan.”
They grab the brackets, wood glue, and other materials they bought from the hardware store, and I follow them into the bedroom. I don’t know much about furniture repair, but I definitely want to watch them work—and be there to lend a hand in the very unlikely chance that the three of them need it.
Just as I suspected, they don’t. With the three men working together, Operation Fix the Bed goes off without a hitch, and they have the bed looking like it’s in tip top shape again in less than thirty minutes.
“That ought to do it,” Rhett says, crossing his arms over his broad chest and looking down at the bed with satisfaction. “Should hold just fine.”
“For another few rounds, at least,” Sawyer adds with a heated smirk, winking at me in a way that makes me blush deeply.
With the bed taken care of, we move on to the main event of the day: decorating. I put on some Christmas music, and Rhett gets the fire going.
It’s interesting, watching the guys interact as they start unpacking the decorations we got—just like it was watching them work together to fix the bed.
They’ve been on the outs for years now, but there’s still a synergy there.
Proof that once, they were an amazing team.
They weave around each other, passing things back and forth, anticipating what one of them will need before he can even ask for it.
Sawyer spreads out the tree skirt, Lennox sets up the stand, and Rhett puts the tree in its place, in the corner of the living room.
Lennox is already there with a pair of scissors to cut the webbing the tree was wrapped in for the drive home, and the room is filled with the herby green scent immediately.
I breathe it in deep, feeling warm just from that.
Together, we start winding lights around it, using the colorful ones we got.
Lennox shakes his head, and Sawyer elbows him lightly. “Don’t be a grinch just because we’re not doing this ‘elegant’ style,” he says.
“I’m not. If you want an eyesore, you’re welcome to it.”
“It’s Violet’s eyesore,” Sawyer points out. “Are you going to tell her that?”
They all turn to look at me, and I put on my best puppy dog expression, making them laugh.
“What kind of tree is this?” Lennox asks, changing the subject. Rhett answers, showing off his knowledge of plants and growing things in his calm way.
It’s nice to just watch them, and I take over directing for a while, pointing out where I want ornaments on the tree. As I watch, I’m more aware of Lennox’s issues, noting that he often goes out of his way to avoid using his bad hand for things.
There’s a pit in my stomach that he feels self-conscious about it at all, especially here with me and his family. No one here would ever judge him for it, and I wish there was some way to let him know that.
Silently, I vow that I’ll do everything I can to make sure he knows how amazing he is. Injury or not.
“What do you think of this garland?” Sawyer asks, stepping back from the mantle to show off what he’s been doing.
“It’s crooked,” Rhett and Lennox say at the same time.
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Well then come show me how to make it not crooked then,” he says, folding his arms. “Since you’re such Christmas experts.”
“It’s not about being a Christmas expert,” Rhett says. “It’s about having working eyes.” He adjusts the garland, and Lennox gives him a thumbs up.
Sawyer rolls his eyes and adds the lights we got, going with the pale white ones that have been dubbed the ‘elegant, rich bitch’ lights.
Just like at the store, their snark is much less loaded than before. Rhett and Sawyer aren’t treating Lennox with kid gloves or anything, but they’re softening the usual blows, and he’s doing the same for them. It’s like the camaraderie they used to share is clicking back into place.
Maybe it’s a Christmas miracle.
Either way, my heart swells to see it. I love when they’re like this. Even outside of anything that’s happening between me and the three of them, I know this is how they were always supposed to be. If they don’t have anything or anyone else, they’re meant to have each other.
“Why do you have that mushy look on your face?” Sawyer asks, startling me out of my thoughts.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yeah, you do. You’re thinking something sappy about holiday magic or something. It’s pretty obvious.”
My cheeks go pink because he’s not strictly wrong. “Leave me alone. What’s next.” I try to change the subject, and he laughs, but lets it go.
“Come help us get the stockings up.”
I haven’t had stockings up since I was a kid, and my parents would put one out for each of us.
Of course, Isabelle usually got the better haul, her stocking full of candy and makeup and jewelry.
I usually got some baked goods from the store and candy and maybe one or two toys, with the excuse that it was hard to know what to buy for me because I wasn’t into the same things Isabelle was into.
As an adult, I never bothered with it, but it makes me feel warm to see four stockings on my mantle, one for each of us in the house.
I already have some ideas about what to fill the guys’ stockings with before Christmas, and I have a pretty good feeling that they won’t let me be forgotten either.
“How does it look?” Lennox asks, coming to stand next to me.
I take in the sight of the tree and the decorated mantle, the result of hard work from people who actually care.
“It’s beautiful,” I say sincerely. “Thank you.”
“We’re not done yet.” Rhett grabs a bag from the floor. “Do you have a ladder?”
“There should be one in the shed. What are you going to use it for?”
“Lights on the house. All the other houses in the neighborhood have them, and yours shouldn’t be left out.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” I tell him. “It’s so cold out.”
But he’s already pulling his coat and boots on and heading for the back door. “I thought Sawyer told you to make use of us.”
“He did, but—”
“No buts,” Lennox says, following his brother’s lead.
“Can I at least help you?”
“Nah, we’ve got it. You stay in here where it’s warm.”
I make a face at him, but then brighten. “Well, I’ll help by making a treat for you all. I’ll make those scones we started last night before we all got distracted.”
There’s an immediate reaction from all three of them at the memory of just how last night ended. Heat pools in their eyes, and all of a sudden there are three men looking at me like they might want a repeat performance.
I shiver and smile, and the moment breaks.
“Scones and hot cocoa sound pretty damned good after all this,” Sawyer says.
“Then I’ll make it happen.”
The three of them head outside, and I go into the kitchen, grabbing an apron and getting started on the scones. It’s easier to do this without them flicking flour on each other and bickering, but they’re all still on my mind anyway.
Last night was such a turning point in so many ways.
They patched things up between them, or at least made strides toward burying that years old hatchet, and then we all… got closer.
I can remember the feeling of their hands on me, their mouths on mine. I can still feel the effects of what they did to me in my body, in the slight soreness that lingers and the way I shiver every time I think too hard about it all.
I might never be able to look at my own kitchen the same way again after that.
Just standing at the counter reminds me of how it all started, and I definitely have to force my thoughts not to go too far down the path of memory lane. I have to actually bake in here and not just fantasize about the three of them.
I can do that later.
Once I have everything I need in front of me, it’s easy to fall into the rhythm of baking again.
It’s always been that way for me, and I’m glad that one sexy encounter in the kitchen hasn’t ruined that forever.
I sift and cut butter into the flour, humming along to the Christmas music still playing in the other room.
I’m about to start patting the dough out when the front door opens, startling me out of my groove.
“Please don’t tell me one of you fell off the ladder,” I call to the front room, thinking it’s one of the guys coming in for something.
But it’s my sister’s voice that answers back, with a confused, “What?”
She steps into the kitchen, looking windblown and pink cheeked from the cold, but still as beautiful as she always does. She unwinds her scarf from around her neck, and I wince internally.
Truthfully, the last thing I want to do after having such a nice day with the guys is play host to Isabelle and whatever wedding related crisis she’s here to bitch about, but I force a smile onto my face either way.
“Sorry, I thought you were one of the guys,” I tell her.
“I saw them out there, messing around on the roof. If one of them hurts themselves, you might be in trouble for it,” she says, flipping her hair over one shoulder.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s a liability, isn’t it? Letting them up there on your slippery roof for your lights.”
“Oh. Well, I mean, they wanted to do it, and I don’t think they’d sue me if one of them fell, Isabelle.”