Chapter 33 Violet
VIOLET
Over the next few days, things continue the way they’ve been going.
Namely, I go to the bakery to work and come home to bake more—and the guys and I continue to hook up.
It’s the first time in a long time that I’ve been having such regular sex, and comparing it to being with Andrew is like night and day.
I come home from the bakery, and at least one of the guys is there to greet me, all hands and lips and teasing.
That usually turns into making out in the entryway, which leads to fucking in the living room.
Or the bathroom. Or the bedroom. Or the kitchen.
My house has been thoroughly broken in by them at this point.
All the weird tension that was hanging in the air is gone now, and their playful attitudes toward each other have only gotten warmer and easier. Maybe regular sex is good for them too.
For the most part, it feels a little bit like I must be dreaming all of this. I’m just as busy as ever, but being lost in a happy haze of sex and orgasms really does take the edge off long days and early mornings.
It helps that the guys often stop by the bakery, either to help or just to hang out.
All the usual holiday stress is so far in the background that I can’t even see it most of the time. It’s the most fun I’ve had this time of year in longer than I can remember.
Rhett has a dry sense of humor and a knack for comedic timing that never fails to have me laughing. Two days ago when an angry woman nearly cursed me out at the bakery, he diffused the tension by cracking a joke about her coat that had me in tears of laughter instead of frustration.
Sawyer keeps me on my toes with his charm, and soothes away any bad mood by being attentive and sweet. I feel like he sees me in a way that no one has in a long time.
Lennox, for his part, really seems to have stepped into his role as older brother. He’s a natural leader, always has been, and he has a way of bringing us all together that we defer to easily.
I remember him being like that when we were younger, but I guess it fell apart with the brothers’ relationship. Now that he’s back in that role, it fits him perfectly, and he seems happier for it.
I feel lighter and more energetic than I have in a long time, and it’s even made its way into my baking. I feel creatively on fire in the kitchen. When I come home, I fill page after page of notes with ideas of new combinations to try.
Things have been flying out of the case at the bakery, and I have more special orders than I know what to do with. Customers are coming in all day, and there is hardly any down time, which is really unheard of.
With business picking up so much, this is looking like it will be the best and most profitable season I’ve had since I opened the bakery.
“I saw a post about your bakery on social media!” the woman in front of me chirps, startling me out of my thoughts.
“Oh—really?” I ask, blinking in surprise.
She nods. “Yeah. Caitlin Cane—do you know her?”
My eyes go wide and I nod. “Yeah, she’s a food influencer, right?”
“Right! I guess you did some baked goods for a holiday party her boyfriend was at, and he brought home some of the leftovers for her to try. She raved about them, so I had to come try some for myself. I live half an hour away, and I didn’t even know this place was here.”
It’s amazing to see the word of mouth picking up speed, and I’m so hopeful that this momentum doesn’t die out any time soon.
Once the woman leaves, the lunch rush is officially over, and I sigh with satisfaction as well as exhaustion. It feels like the rush has been starting earlier and earlier these last few days, basically leaving no breathing room after the breakfast rush on the weekdays.
I’m not complaining about the business, but it is nice to have a minute.
Just as I think that, the bell over the door jingles, and I paste on my best Customer Service, I’m So Happy To Serve You smile, only to let it drop when I see that it’s the guys coming back from deliveries.
Having their help has been invaluable with how much things have picked up, and I give them a different smile.
“How did it go?”
“No issues,” Lennox says.
“And lots of tips,” Sawyer adds. He unloads a handful of bills into the tip jar with a wink.
“Whoa, what’s all that for?” I ask him.
“I turned on the charm. Half of my deliveries were middle aged women ordering for holiday parties while their husbands are at the office all day. So I batted my eyes and threw around some compliments, and viola.” He gestures to the brimming jar.
“If you did all that for tips, then you should keep them,” I say, shaking my head.
“No, I did it for you, Peaches.”
“I’m supposed to be paying you, not the other way around, Sawyer.”
“Well…” He sidles up to me leaning in to nose at my neck. “If you want to pay me, you could let me give you a tip of my own. If you know what I mean.”
I can’t help but burst out laughing at the sheer corniness of that pick up line. “That was horrible, truly. I can’t reward that kind of behavior.”
He chuckles, and his brothers roll their eyes.
“I do have something for all of you though, now that I have a free moment to grab them.”
We head into the kitchen where a batch of cookies has been chilling, waiting to go into the oven. I put those in, along with some other things to refresh the bakery case before the end of the day.
“Oh, that reminds me,” Rhett says. He produces a bottle of water and a bag from Porter’s. “Lunch for you.”
“Oh.” I blink at the offering before taking it from him. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Rhett shrugs. “You’ve been running all over the place, and you handled the lunch rush by yourself. We see how busy you are, and we want you to take care of yourself while you’re feeding everyone else in town.”
Something burns in the back of my throat at his words, and I realize that my eyes are stinging with unshed tears. I don’t know what to say or even how to react, so I duck my head, unwrapping what turns out to be a thick roast beef sandwich.
It’s still warm, and one bite proves that it’s exactly how I like it. Toasted bread, honey mustard, pickled onions, and melty cheese.
My throat goes tight when I try to swallow, and I try to hide the fact that I feel like I might cry.
“Violet?” Lennox asks, stepping closer. “What’s wrong?”
“Did they put peppers on it?” Rhett asked. “I told them no peppers.”
I shake my head, chasing the bite with a gulp of water. “No. No, I’m fine. It’s just…” I look up, and all three of them are watching me with concern.
That just makes the lump in my throat even worse, but I have to tell them something. It’s just hard to know where to start or where to find the words.
“No one’s ever really taken care of me like this before,” I finally explain.
“My family doesn’t take the bakery seriously.
If I tell them I’m working hard or swamped with orders, they just wave me off like it doesn’t matter.
Like it’s the same as when I was a kid playing with my Easy Bake Oven or making mud pies.
None of them would have ever thought to make sure I have lunch on a busy day.
None of them would have cared. Sometimes it feels like they’re just waiting for me to fail—that maybe they even want me to fail, just so they’d be right about the fact that me opening a bakery was a bad idea. ”
It feels a little pathetic to say it out loud, and I sigh, ready to apologize for wasting their time with my whining.
But when I look at them again, they all look indignant.
“That’s bullshit,” Lennox says shortly.
“I know. I shouldn’t think that way about my own family, but—”
“No,” he cuts me off. “It’s bullshit that they would make you feel that way. Whether they actually think that or not, it’s clear from how they act that you have a reason to feel the way you do. We’ve been here for this long, and we haven’t seen any of them in here once.”
“They… never really come by,” I admit. “There have been times when I’ve been here, and my mom will call me and ask if I can run an errand for her or come over to help with something, and when I tell her I’m working, she’s just so… dismissive.”
“If your family can’t see how much you’ve accomplished here, then that means they have a problem, not you,” Rhett says firmly.
Sawyer nods. “Exactly. Look at how much you’ve done. You’ve turned this place into a beautiful bakery, and people love your baked goods.” The timer goes off on the oven as if on cue, and before I can move, Sawyer crosses to it and grabs oven mitts to take the tray of cookies out.
He doesn’t wait for them to cool, instead juggling a soft, hot cookie in his hands until he can take a bite. “Fucking delicious,” he groans. “Is that sea salt?”
“Miso.”
“See? That shit is inspired. You’re a genius in the kitchen with this stuff, Violet. Your family is missing out and that’s their problem. They won’t get to bask in your success with you because they’re too busy with their heads up their asses.”
I can’t help but smile as the other two go and get cookies of their own. They all praise the taste and the innovation and press kisses to my cheeks. I tuck into my sandwich, feeling a little bit better.
“Thank you,” I say, sincerely. “I guess I’ve been needing to hear all that.
I just want this to work, you know? I want to make it all worth it.
All the hard work, the faith my grandmother had in me.
I don’t want it to be a waste. We were so close, my grandmother and I.
I think maybe she knew how… how unseen I felt in my family, so she would take me out for dinner and invite me to her house all the time.
Being with her felt like having a break from everything being about Isabelle, and I loved it.
I loved her for wanting to spend time with me and for just being the amazing woman she was. I would hate to disappoint her.”
“I don’t think you could,” Sawyer says. “She’d be so proud of you for what you’ve accomplished.”
“I hope so,” I reply, sighing a little. “She left me this place, but at first, the building was supposed to go to Isabelle.”
Rhett’s brows draw together. “Why? Has she ever shown that she would do something worthwhile with it?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I think she talked about opening a boutique or something when she was a kid.
I was more bookish, so Grandmother was going to leave me her book collection and some other things.
But the closer we got, the more she could see that I would have the good ideas and work ethic it would take to put the building to good use.
She asked me one day if I would like to have it, and I told her my dream for the bakery. She had her will amended the next day.”
“Wow.” Lennox smiles. “It sounds like she really believed in you.”
“She did. And that’s why I want this to do well. I want that faith to have mattered.”
“But it does matter, Violet,” Lennox says.
“Her faith got you here. Got you this building so you could turn it into your dream. You’ve already done what she wanted you to do, and you’re doing it well.
We see the lines of people in here every day.
We see how the bakery case is nearly empty by lunch. That means it’s already working.”
“You should hear the way Simon talks about you too,” Rhett offers.
My head snaps up to look at him. “Simon talks about me?”
“All the time. It’s like you’re his granddaughter too.” He shakes his head with a little smile. “He’s proud of you and always mentions that he knew you were going to be successful.”
I can’t help the smile that spreads over my face to hear that. I can picture Simon and Rhett playing chess in the park, discussing my business and its success.
“That’s good to know,” I murmur.
“So don’t doubt yourself,” Sawyer says, summing it all up. “Your family doesn’t decide how your life and your business are going to go, and they can get left behind if they can’t get on board with how great you are.”
“Thanks, you guys. I don’t know what to say, but I do appreciate it.”
“You don’t have to say anything. Just eat your sandwich.”
I tuck into the sandwich, feeling much lighter than I did just minutes ago. Something about these three men always manages to turn my mood around when I get too down on myself.
Once the sandwich is eaten and half the cookies are gone, we go back out to the main part of the bakery to handle the rest of the day.
“Oh,” I say at one point. “Speaking of Simon, he’s going to be part of the holiday musical revue that’s coming up.”
“They still do that?” Sawyer asks.
I give him a look. “I don’t know why you’re always so surprised about these things. Nothing in Sweetwater Lake has changed since you lived her. None of the traditions anyway.”
“Fair point. If it isn’t broke, don’t fix it, I suppose. Anyway, what about it?”
I bite my lip, suddenly a little hesitant.
I want to suggest that guys might come with me to the revue, but that feels like asking them on a date.
I’ve never done that with them before, despite the fake dating and the very good sex.
I don’t want them to feel like they’re obligated to come because they’re pretending to be my boyfriends for the whole town to see.
“I was just thinking of going,” I mumble.
Sawyer gives me a look right back. “If you’re going we’re going, obviously. That’s what boyfriends are for. And you can’t imagine that we’re going to miss out on any of the kitschy Sweetwater Lake traditions now that we’re here for the holidays for the first time in a while.”
“What he said,” Rhett says, gesturing at his brother.
Lennox nods. “I want to see if they’re still using the same songs they did when we were kids.”
“You know they are,” I answer, grinning at all of them.