16. Violet
sixteen
Violet
DAY 12 AT SILVER LEAF... ONLY 74 TO GO
I sit at the table on the back porch with my open laptop and an iced tea, for all intents and purposes, enjoying the sunshine while working on something for Chord because, apparently, that’s my entire job now. But that’s not the whole truth. I’m out here instead of in the home office because Chord is fixing the fences again, and this is the spot with the best view.
I can’t prove it, but I get the feeling he knows I’m watching.
Words cannot do this man justice, and the light sheen of perspiration on the back of my neck isn’t only thanks to the summer heat. Chord’s jeans hug his tight, round ass so well, and they’re snug enough to strain across the bulge in front. Between his hours of manual labor, he walks in and out of the house with his tight t-shirt damp enough to look sprayed on, his body hard and carved like granite, his hair dark and curled around the edges.
After a morning spent doing not much more than watching him work, I’m struck by how easy Chord is in his body. Everyone knows he’s a powerful hockey player, but his physical ease doesn’t end on the ice. He’s probably one of those people who’s never felt awkward a day in his life, and the way he handles the fences is so confident and forceful. It makes me wonder what he’s like in bed.
I startle when the back door crashes open and someone sings out, “Hello! Anyone home?” My impure daydreams disappear beneath a burning rush of guilt.
The little girl I saw the day I got here—Izzy, Chord’s niece—dances onto the porch. She wears the same little cowboy boots and hat, but her tutu is blue today, and she’s got a yellow long-sleeved one-piece swimsuit underneath.
I’m surprised to see her, given that Chord hasn’t had a single visitor since I got here, but also oddly happy that someone has come looking for him. But when Izzy spots me and pulls up with a pouty little frown, I think I should have stuck to working in the office.
“Um, hi.” I rest my elbows on my knees and lean over with a smile. “You’re Izzy, right?”
“Yes.” She crosses her little arms and pops a hip. “Who are you?”
I’m both scared and amused by her attitude. “I’m Violet. It’s nice to meet you.”
She squints at me and turns her head a little. “Are you Uncle Chord’s girlfriend?”
I laugh in surprise and look around for help just as Chord’s blonde sister, Daisy, steps onto the porch.
“Violet is Uncle Chord’s assistant, Izzy. She helps him with his hockey stuff.” Daisy squints out at the field where Chord is working, then hands Izzy the baseball cap and cowboy hat she’s carrying. “Go give these to Uncle Chord and tell him you’re here to help with those fences. Also, tell him I said the one on the left is crooked.”
“Okay.”
Izzy skips down the steps, jumps the last one and lands on the lawn with two feet and a “Yes!” then bolts in Chord’s direction. She must yell out when she’s close enough because Chord suddenly straightens and opens his arms to scoop her up and spin her around. When he sets her down again, he takes the cowboy hat she offers and hangs it on a fence post before he slips the baseball cap on his head. Backwards.
I barely muffle an indecent moan.
Daisy snorts. “I knew he would do that.” Then she looks at me. “I’ve been waiting for Chord to be a gentleman and bring you around to introduce us, but this is better.” She extends her hand. “I’m Daisy. It’s nice to meet you properly.”
I accept her hand and shake it. “It’s nice to meet you too.”
Daisy glances at the jug of iced tea on the table, steps back inside and reappears with another glass, then sits across from me and helps herself to a drink. She takes a sip, watching me over the rim of the glass with inquisitive hazel eyes.
I’m not sure what to make of her or this situation. I glance out at the field and see Chord looking in this direction, but when he notices me looking, he bends back to Izzy and his work.
I guess I’m on my own. I stick my hands between my thighs as a reminder not to bounce my knees.
“Chord’s come up to The Hill every morning for breakfast since he got here, but we missed him the last two days,” Daisy says. “Izzy and I thought we’d come look for him, and I was hoping to see you too.”
It’s in my nature to think the worst, but I force myself to ask, “Really? Why?”
She takes off her white wide-brimmed hat and drops it on the chair beside her before reclining a little and setting her booted feet up on the table.
“Because I’ve been home for weeks, and Charlie won’t go with me to The Slippery Tipple. I need to dance , Vi. Please tell me you’ll give my brother the slip next weekend and keep me company?”
My heart kind of stops before it takes off again as fast as it was, only now its thrumming in my wrists instead of pounding in my ears. Chord’s sister wants to go dancing with me ? I’m as interested as I am anxious—I’ve never been dancing with a girlfriend, and I’m not even sure I know how—but that’s not all. Nobody’s ever called me Vi . It’s a thing only a good friend would do, but Daisy says it like she’s known me for years, not minutes, and I love it so much that warmth starts creeping along my chest.
“Yeah, sure. I mean, I’m not officially on the clock after six p.m., so it should be fine. It should be great. You know. Fun.”
“My grumpy big brother doesn’t work you day and night?” She cocks her head and considers me with lips pursed against a smile. “I think he likes you.”
“Me?” I laugh self-consciously and lower my eyes. “I don’t think Chord likes anyone.” I hear the words too late to take them back and cover my hot cheeks with my hands. “I can’t believe I said that. I didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry.”
Daisy stares at me long enough to make me believe I’ve messed this up, but then she bursts into laughter and I chuckle along with her without any idea what’s going on.
Her eyes are watery with mirth as she reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “It’s okay, Vi. You’re not the first one to think that. You might be the first one to say it while sitting on his porch, using his wi-fi, and drinking his iced tea, but that means you’ve got ovaries of steel, and I like that in a woman.”
I take a deep breath and pick up my drink. “I’m so embarrassed.”
She waves her hand and leans back in her chair. “Don’t be. Chord can be an arrogant, irritable jackass, but he’s got a good heart. In fact, I feel like I should apologize to you.”
I choke a little on my mouthful of tea and hurry to set down my glass. “To me? Why?”
Daisy glances out to the field where Chord and Izzy are hard at work, then turns back with a rueful smile.
“I’m sorry you got stuck in the middle of Chord and Charlie’s discussion the day you arrived. She feels bad about it, and it has nothing to do with you. They’ve got their own stuff, but it was unfair to air it in front of company.”
She purses her lips and cocks her head to one side, examining me like a specimen in a jar. “You work for the Fury, right?”
“Ah… yes?”
She nods thoughtfully. “So, you can’t repeat any of what I tell you now, right?”
“Right.”
She nods once. “Good. I could use someone to talk to, and it’s hard to make real girlfriends when Chord Davenport is your brother. I never know when something I say might end up in an article somewhere, or if someone is being friendly just to get his number.”
I sense that whatever Daisy wants to get off her chest is none of my business, but I ignore the little flush of shame for not shutting this down and lean closer.
“Chord was always a hockey prodigy—magic from the moment he was old enough to skate. He knew it. Mom and Dad knew it. And they made sure that me and Dylan and Finn and Charlie knew it. They treated him differently. Never made him do chores, made allowances for him they never gave us, and raised him to put himself and his own goals before everything else, even the ranch. Don’t get me wrong—Mom and Dad were amazing parents, and they loved us so big—but Chord was special. I don’t think Chord realizes, even now, how his dreams affected our relationships with him.”
I lick my lips and blink a little, trying not to show how her words affect me. Dreams are something I think about all the time—dreams and how they make people do selfish things. My mom chose dreams over her family. I shelved my dreams to take care of my dad. And he never had dreams of his own.
Daisy doesn’t notice how I hang on her every word. “It was hardest on Charlie and still is. With or without Chord and hockey, Finn was always going to be a SEAL, Dylan was always going to be a chef, and I was always going to run away the day I turned eighteen. We were never going to stay here and run this place, but Charlie…”
Daisy tips her head from side to side like she’s looking for the right words. I’m on the edge of my seat even though I’ve never felt good about gossip but… Chord saw my boobs. And my sketchbook. I’m going to take my chance to learn something intimate about him.
“Chord’s the oldest. You know that, right?” Daisy says, and I nod. “In another world, he’d have been the one to take over here, but in this world, that responsibility fell to Charlie. She was prepped from day one to take over Silver Leaf, and she wants to live up to the dreams Mom and Dad had for her the same way Chord lived up to the future they planned for him. Charlie wants to prove herself the way Chord has—show the world she’s capable of success. But the problem is she’s scared.”
“Of what?” I ask before I can help myself. “Chord?”
Daisy shakes her head. “God, no. At least, not like that. I think she’s scared that when Chord retires, he’ll come back and take what she’s spent the last eight years trying to build. That he’ll swoop in with his money and his attitude and she’ll be pushed aside. Charlie loves this place, and she wants to save it—in her own way and on her own terms.”
“Save it? Is Silver Leaf in trouble?”
Daisy raises one perfect eyebrow. “Twenty years ago, this place was something else,” she says. “Today, we make just enough from the restaurant, weekend tourists, the occasional wedding, and one catering client’s monthly wine order to keep us in the black. Without that, we’d have shut down years ago.”
“I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
“How could you? Just don’t mention it to Charlie. She’s working hard to turn things around. We want horses again—that’ll be my job—and a spa. Glamping. More private bungalows. All of us have ideas, but we’re struggling to make them happen.”
“And Chord?” I ask. “He doesn’t want to invest?”
Two weeks ago, I might have presumed Chord was cold enough to leave his family to fend for themselves, but now… I glance over at where he’s helping Izzy bang on a fence post with a hammer, then smile when he pretends she caught his thumb with a big-swing hit. I’ve seen too much to believe that about him anymore.
Daisy snorts. “Chord has tried to invest in this place more times than I can count, and Charlie won’t take it. If Chord can make his fortune on his own, then so can she—or so says Charlie.”
Poor Charlie. Poor Chord. It sounds like a big old mess.
Voices float to us on the summer air, and Daisy and I turn to see Chord leading Izzy back to the house. He’s still got that cap on backwards and he’s spinning the cowboy hat on one finger. He flicks it at Daisy when he steps onto the porch, and she catches it with two hands.
“Never in a million years, Daze,” he mutters.
She rolls her eyes and jumps to her feet. “And the backward baseball cap is just so cool .” Daisy turns to me. “Don’t forget, Vi. Saturday night. Eight o’clock. Oh, no. What’s wrong? What’s that look?”
I didn’t know I had a look, but I was mentally going through the items in my wardrobe and dancing hadn’t been on my summer bingo card when I packed.
“Just wondering what I’m going to wear,” I admit.
She flaps one hand at me. “You can borrow something from me.”
Daisy is at least five inches shorter than I am, and I give her a skeptical look that only makes her laugh. “We’ll figure it out, but you’re coming. Hear that, big brother? Me and Vi are going dancing on Saturday night.”
“Dancing? Where?”
“The Slippery Tipple. Where else?”
Chord grunts before his blue eyes slide to me. “ Vi? ”
I shrug self-consciously. “It’s short for Violet.”
His lips twitch. “I know. I just didn’t realize you were collecting nicknames now, Wallflower.”
Daisy snorts. “Wallflower? Hell, no. This queen is going to be the brightest, prettiest thing on the dance floor next Saturday night. Isn’t that right, Vi?”
I don’t answer her. I can’t because there’s that name again. Chord stares at me with burning blue eyes like he knows what he does to me, and my face grows hot as a million spots of light take flight in my body. The same way they did last night.