Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Evander
It was a shitty thing to say that I should be grateful for Dad’s heart attack. If we hadn’t taken the first step of our reconciliation, I wouldn’t be at their kitchen with Violet next to me and Weston and Magnolia across from us, witnessing the toxic way Dad and I interacted. Instead, Dad and I might be a little tentative around each other, but without the constant defensiveness rising like a tidal wave, we’d had some good chats. When he asked questions about the pumpkins, I’d just answer them instead of assuming he was being critical. Turned out Dad no longer brimmed with criticism. He’d changed in the last several years, and since his medical scare, I could finally accept it.
Though I might not have had to worry either way. Dad and Weston had been chatting nonstop since Violet’s parents had walked through the door.
As soon as I called Mom and told her Weston’s request, she’d been thrilled, gushing about hosting and mulling over what she’d make.
I requested a simple beef dish. No elk.
Last night, I’d dug out my nicest pair of jeans to show I made a little effort. Violet was in another sundress, a cream one covered in wildflowers that made me want to run my hands up her legs all through the meal.
Dinner was over now. I listened to Dad tell Weston everything I was doing around the ranch and how I was getting ready for harvest, and by the way, have you seen his pumpkin patch?
Dad was bragging about me. Shock tried to convince me I’d entered a different timeline. How else would I be growing pumpkins that Dad gushed about?
We were going to look at the pumpkin patch after dinner. As if I didn’t stare at them in wonder each morning. Ten acres of orange fucking dots, sitting in the field, waiting to be plucked. All because I didn’t know what to do after retirement, and I didn’t like hearing about my youngest cousin getting screwed over.
“Isla and Stetson have a big pumpkin-picking day planned,” Dad said.
When had he heard that? I had discussed time frames and harvesting tactics earlier this week with Isla, but Dad hadn’t ventured far into pumpkin territory since I’d started helping on the ranch. He’d had opinions, I chafed over them, and we fought. But he seemed invested, and pride rang from his voice.
“That sounds fun,” Violet said with a smile, then she bit back her grin. “I’m sure you have such a good crop.”
She hadn’t seen it since she’d left. Since her parents had been at her place, I didn’t have a chance to tell her either. “I talked with Isla this week,” I said to her, uncaring of who heard. “She’s lined up some giant crates and a few wagons.”
“Will that be enough?” Dad asked. He folded his white napkin in half, then folded it again, like he was nervous.
“Probably not. I planted too many goddamn pumpkins.”
Weston snorted, and Dad snickered. I chuckled with them, not at all self-conscious about my new endeavor. It gave me something to do, and I suspected Dad knew that.
“Evander always put a hundred and ten percent into a challenge,” Mom said fondly, and I preened like I was goddamn fourteen.
My chest grew tight. “All I’m concerned about is getting Isla what she needs. The pumpkin patch will take as many as I want to donate, but they’re not the big carving pumpkins.” I glanced at Violet. “Want to come watch us pick some pumpkins?”
The corner of her mouth hitched up. “Can’t I help harvest?”
“Not if you want my blood pressure to stay normal.” She laughed, but her dad’s words from yesterday ran through my head. “I’ll give you ten minutes with no equipment moving to pick to your heart’s desire.”
Her blue eyes danced. “So generous. I can be the lemonade runner. September’s aiming to be a hot month this year.”
“Deal.”
We exchanged a smile, and the silence sunk in. Violet cleared her throat and tucked her chin down.
“Anyway, we’re loosely planning for two weeks from today.” I took a huge pull of the glass of milk Mom poured me. I had asked her to have some for Violet. She didn’t tell me she was still craving milk and orange juice, but her fridge was stocked with plenty.
“I’ll pencil it into my busy schedule.”
“Is anyone hungry for dessert?” Mom rose. “I made chocolate silk pie.”
Violet let out a little groan next to me. “That’s my favorite.”
“Is it?” I avoided Weston’s gaze. I’d asked him yesterday. Just in case the main meal reignited Violet’s morning sickness.
Her hot gaze brushed the side of my face, but I started to clear plates. Mom would want fresh ones for the pie.
After dessert, Dad wanted to take Weston for a tour. Magnolia stayed inside with Mom after Mom had asked what kind of books she wrote. I had a feeling that before Magnolia and Weston left, Liam and Kennedy’s kids would have lots of books ordered for them.
Violet and I lingered behind, letting our dads geek out about everything farming and ranching, which had turned into reminiscing about what had changed in Coal Haven since the Dukes had lived there.
“Was the meal okay?” I asked Violet. I clenched my right hand. Otherwise, I’d twine my fingers through hers. This was just a mutual meeting of the parents to make things easier and open communication after the baby was born.
Just because it felt like a significant step in a real relationship was only in my imagination.
She rubbed her belly. “It was really good.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “How did Willow know chocolate silk pie was my favorite?”
I shrugged. “I have my sources. ”
She slid her gaze toward her dad. “You two chatted a bit while putting baby furniture together.”
“It was mostly about which screw went with which hole, according to the directions.”
She giggled. “I thought you had that part figured out.” She spread her hands over her stomach.
I laughed, but I caught the hint of tension around her eyes. “You feeling okay?”
“Sometimes my skin feels too small. I’ll probably need to order a few more maternity clothes. My pants are already getting tight for work.” She bent to look at her knees. “And my belly is starting to hitch these dresses up pretty far.”
“I’m not complaining.”
She rolled her eyes, but the grin was a personal reward.
I called to Dad. “I’m going to show her the old car in the shop.” There would be somewhere for her to sit inside. We could go in the house, but I hadn’t had her to myself yet this weekend.
Our footsteps crunched as we walked across the drive. The shop door was half open from when I mowed the lawn this morning.
When we entered the shop, the air grew cooler. Violet rolled her neck. “I can’t believe that my back is already bugging me from standing. I have three and a half months left.”
“I’m not sure if I should tell you that Mom always said I was a big baby.”
She groaned. “It might’ve been best not to know that. I shouldn’t be surprised. Everything about you is big.”
I coughed out a laugh.
“I didn’t mean—” She shrugged. “It’s true. ”
I took her hand. Any excuse to touch her. “Come on, wildflower. Let’s find you somewhere to sit.”
“You didn’t want to go inside?” She walked toward the zero-turn mower. “I could sit here.”
“It’s dirty. We could’ve gone inside, but we haven’t had a chance to talk all week. Over here.” I led her to the back of the shop. The other side had a smaller door that was rarely opened. Dad would use it for his dad’s old Cadillac. The Eldorado was a polished brown with chrome accents. The outside matched the inside. I pulled open the passenger door. “This is the cleanest spot in the shop. Dad keeps her running and mouse-free.”
“I’ll trust you on the mouse-free.” She sat on the edge of the seat, smoothing her dress under her and scanning the brown leather and chrome interior. “Grandma Duke used to have a car like this. She was so proud of it. Grandpa bought it for her.” A nostalgic smile tilted her lips.
I propped my hands on the open door, which opened the opposite direction than most modern cars, and the top of the frame. “Liam said Dad takes Mom for a spin. He drives ten miles an hour until he leaves the gravel.”
She laughed and ran a hand over the wide dashboard. “He probably uses at least one gallon of gas to get to town.”
“One gallon just to start the damn thing.”
Her laugh chimed through the inside of the shop. “It was really nice seeing you and your dad so relaxed around each other. He’s really proud of you.”
“Yeah, I think he is.”
She tilted her face up, her gaze expectant. “What did you want to talk about?”
I frowned, trying to think of what she meant. Right. I’d used that as the excuse to squirrel her away. “Nothing. Thought a little one-on-one would be nice.”
“Sorry about my parents?—”
I leaned down and pressed my lips to hers. “Don’t be. I’m glad I could meet them.” I stayed bent over, our faces inches apart.
She feathered a hand across my shoulder. “I didn’t think putting together a crib could be a bonding experience, but my dad seems to like you.”
“He’s just relieved I’m not that other asshole.”
“You say it like you’re also an asshole.”
“I am.”
She patted my cheek. “Not to me, soldier.”
“I learned my lesson.” I’d almost lost her, and I wasn’t sure I’d get her back. Things between us were good. We had time, and I’d give her all she needed.
Her blue irises went liquid. “You can be really sweet when you want to be.”
I crowded between her thighs, gently tipping her back. “What else can I be?” I smoothed my hands up her legs. Soft, warm skin slid underneath my palms.
“Bossy.”
“Not bossy enough.” Otherwise, she’d be in my bed every night. I pressed a kiss to her hairline and worked my way toward her mouth.
“Contemplative.” Her lips moved against mine when she spoke.
“I have a lot to think about.” She consumed my thoughts. I licked into her mouth and stole a long, greedy kiss.
She clutched my shirt, whether she wanted to or needed to in order to keep from tipping backward, I didn’t know. I reached her underwear, and nothing else went through my head other than elation.
Finally. I had her to myself.
She tipped her head away to break the kiss and peered around me. “Can they see?”
“Even if they come inside, the loader’s in the way.” Part of what had kept me from Violet all week were the damn hydraulics on that thing.
She dropped her gaze to my crotch. The jeans I wore secured my erection a lot better than cargo pants, but also outlined the damn thing a whole lot clearer. “Can you make it fast?”
“Honey, it’ll only take me a minute,” I drawled.
She clawed at my fly. Taking her cue, I yanked down her underwear. I could put them anywhere in the car, but I shoved them in my back pocket. Within seconds, my erection was free.
As much as I wanted to shove into her and thrust away, I waited. I circled her clit with my thumb and pushed two fingers inside. Her moan was swallowed by the interior of the car.
“You’re already fucking wet.” I pumped in and out.
“I was hoping you’d do this.”
Fuck. I wasn’t going to keep her waiting. I withdrew my hand and notched myself at her entrance. She hitched her legs up, her sandals digging into my hips, but I didn’t let that stop me.
Bracing my knees at the base of the seat, I thrust, coating myself. Once I was ready to pound into her, I held her steady with one arm and rubbed her swollen little clit with the other.
“You know how much I wanted this pussy all week?”
Her groan was my only answer .
My thrusts were too powerful. I’d lose my hold and face-plant right into the baby. I gripped the front seat, the concentration helping me last until she came. Her walls gripped me hard, and my thumb was fucking soaked. She was coming already, and wasn’t that an ego stroke.
“Come hard, Violet. But don’t let them hear you.” She’d be mortified, and nothing could ruin this experience for her.
“I’m almost—” She gasped. “I can’t believe how fast this—” She stiffened, and her legs were a few pounds of pressure away from splitting me in two. “Evander.” Breathy pants filled the air as she tried to hold in the noise.
She was coming. Hot energy shot down my spine and through my cock. My hips kicked and bucked. She took it, holding on to my shoulder and the front seat, her hand next to mine.
“Fuck, Violet,” I growled as quietly as I could. “Fuck.”
I finally came to a stop. Our breaths mingled in the air.
A rock skittered outside.
Shit. I pulled out. Before I shoved my dick back in its cage, I gave her the underwear and helped her get them over her sandals.
A flush filled her cheeks and crept up her neck.
I couldn’t stop my grin. I tipped her chin up. “You look freshly fucked, wildflower.”
She playfully scowled at me as I tucked myself into my pants. “We can’t go inside now,” she whisper-yelled. “Thanks to you.”
“I’d say sorry, but I enjoyed that too much.” This evening had been damn near perfect. I had a good meal with my parents. Violet was there to see me act like a damn adult instead of a moody kid. And I got to have her in my arms, no matter how brief.
An almost shy smile graced her face. “It was fun, wasn’t it? How many generations of Barrons have had sex in this back seat?”
I froze midzip. “Damn, I do not want to think about that.”
She giggled and pushed me back. When she stood up, she straightened her dress and touched her cheeks. “We need to walk around. If they ask why I’m so red, I can say it’s from the exercise and not be lying.”
“Only if you promise to wear this dress to the pumpkin harvest. Remember, I have a shop too.”