Chapter 11 – Lee
Aweek had passed since our late-night plotting session, and I’d been careful to keep my distance.
I worked on my draft after coffee, losing myself in shaping the story.
I’d experimented with other genres before learning that my writing skills were uniquely suited for thrillers.
Maybe it said something about my character that I thrived on crafting killers.
Figuring out what would motivate someone to end another’s life.
How they might get away with it. How to thwart them.
Sinking into the mystery, the character development, took me into a world all my own.
One where I wasn’t obsessed with Violet. Plotting when I could make a move with a clear conscience. While she was living in my house, taking care of me wasn’t it. That smacked of manipulation. Once I could navigate on my own again, I could test the waters with more. But not now.
I didn’t need a pity fuck. Pretty sure that would kick me back to manure-laced territory with her brothers. Giving Vi and I a chance meant patience. Something I had in spades.
Vi arrived home from hiking with flushed cheeks and a smile.
“I take it there were no unpleasant discoveries today?” I asked, referring to the hike last spring where they discovered the body of a local whale boating captain in the water. Our SAR team had mobilized for recovery, thrusting Drew into Anya’s path for the first time.
“Nope,” Vi said cheerfully.
“Good. I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow. Would you mind taking me?” I asked.
“What time?”
“Two.”
“Not a problem. I can have Gran cover for me at the Salty Pantry.”
“I can ask someone else if it’s a bother,” I offered.
Vi rolled her eyes. “It’s why I’m here, Lee. Speaking of which, what do you want for dinner tonight?”
“To take you out.”
The words were impulsive, but I knew they were the right move from the flash of pleasure that sparked in her eyes. We’d be eating together no matter what. So what if I wanted to make it special? My earlier promise of patience already seemed distant.
“You sure you’re up for leaving the nest? I can make something here,” she offered.
As tempted as I was to have more time alone with her, I also wanted to show my appreciation for what she’d done already. And more time alone at home would test my endurance.
“My treat. Pick something fancy.”
“Like dress-up fancy? Done.” She grinned broadly, eyes brimming with excitement. “I can never get anyone to do the real foodie places around here with me.”
“I owe you one, so have fun with it.”
The eagerness in her eyes dimmed. Dammit. I shouldn’t have phrased it that way. Like an obligation. When, really, it was my pleasure. You’d think I’d be better with words.
“I’m up for an adventure. And I really appreciate your help. Let me pamper you for a change.”
Some of the earlier joy returned to her expression, and I relaxed.
“I’ll figure out where I can get a reservation after I bring you a fresh ice pack.”
Getting myself ready for dinner took the better part of an hour, even with Vi’s help, bringing down the clothes I needed. I managed a half-decent sink bath and shave before donning slacks and a dark blue button-down.
I hobbled out to the couch and waited for Violet. The double doors of my office offered a direct line of sight to the staircase.
We rarely dressed up. I wasn’t exactly the fancy gala type, and Violet’s shop downtown meant she wore jeans and a Salty Pantry tee most days for work.
Catching her in a muumuu and tiara on her front lawn, drinking with her friends while they graded moped drivers on their proficiency test, didn’t count.
While she’d looked cute as hell in the flowing purple dress, it wasn’t exactly formal attire.
One pointed foot appeared on the staircase, followed by a shapely calf as she made her way downstairs.
A dark black skirt flirted with her thighs, nipping in at her waist, skimming up her ribcage to an off-the-shoulder neckline.
The cocktail dress was reminiscent of something you’d see in a 1950s-era catalog or newspaper drawing.
Not exactly what I expected her to pack for nursing at a friend’s house.
Vi twirled for my benefit when she reached my office door, her tinted red lips drawn up in a soft smile. “I couldn’t resist. You said fancy.”
The inside of my mouth turned to sawdust. Her red smile was just as potent as the dress.
Maybe more so. I fisted my hands to keep from reaching for her.
I’d always known Violet was beautiful. But tonight?
The added layer of glamor was breathtaking.
It highlighted everything that had always been there, everything I suddenly couldn’t look away from.
Her long dark hair cascaded around her bare shoulders in waves. I pressed my fists into my thighs. I ached to push her hair away to drip down her back so I could admire every inch of soft skin.
She looked like she’d stepped out of a noir film, the classy dame to my dapper detective. And with that enigmatic expression, she could just as easily have been the femme fatale, all secrets and temptation.
“You look absolutely stunning,” I finally said when I could muster words. “You look fancy like Seattle, not fancy like Friday Harbor. But Seattle’s loss is our gain.”
“Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself, Lee.”
“No, but I want to be,” I muttered. The words popped out, uninvited.
She tilted her head, slow like a predator, or like a detective scenting a clue. “Want to be what now?”
“Bad.”
Her eyes narrowed as if she wasn’t sure if I was flirting or not. I hadn’t meant to. But I couldn’t stop. So much for my vow to play it cool until I could stand on my own again.
Brushing aside the moment of honesty, I gestured toward the door. “Shall we head out?”
She paused, as if tempted to wait me out. Force me to explain my comment about being bad. I held my breath.
Her liquid eyes searched mine, her mouth half-quirked in a quizzical smile. Instead of questioning me further, she shrugged. “Sure. We need to get a move on before they give our table away.”
Vi drove us to a restaurant tucked away between Friday Harbor and Roche Harbor, the two major towns on island.
Goose Hollow didn’t have the most romantic name, but the restaurant itself was beautiful in a rustic way.
We stepped inside to be transported into a cozy cabin with tables nestled in nooks and the buzz of quiet conversation providing a soothing background to the hustle and bustle of the busy restaurant.
We were shown to a table near a roaring fireplace.
Painstakingly, I followed the hostess and Vi, my boot and crutches making my progress slow.
She left us with menus and slipped away.
Vi studied her menu. I studied Vi. The glow from the fireplace burnished her skin in bronze, creating intriguing shadows and hollows at her collarbone and along the graceful line of her neck. My fingers itched to follow them.
“What looks good?” I asked , more to distract myself than her.
“Everything,” Vi said, gaze focused on her menu.
“Would you like to order it all?”
Her brown eyes flicked to mine, luminous in the low light. “Are you serious?”
“Why not?” The excitement in her delicate features made me want to offer her that and more. “That way you can taste everything.”
“I’ve always wanted to do that, but it’s so expensive. It feels over the top.”
If it made her happy, I’d buy her the whole damn restaurant. “This way we’ll have plenty of leftovers. It’ll give you a break from cooking for me.”
“I like cooking for you.”
Her voice softened, no teasing in it, just truth. Her sincerity eased the guilt pressing at me for leaning on her so much. I swallowed, struck by how natural it felt to share this table, this moment. “And I like spoiling you. So let’s try it all. Just this once. Together.”
Vi’s broad smile told me I’d said the right thing.
“Deal.”
We placed our order, and as the servers brought out dish after dish, I was grateful they’d seated us at a four-top table.
It fairly groaned under the appetizers, which included a gem lettuce salad, mushroom paté, and Westcott Bay oysters.
We sampled each, but I held back. We had a rack of lamb, scallops, and rigatoni all still coming.
Watching Violet taste each dish was the closest I’d come to a public loss of control.
She enjoyed her food with a relish that made me want to satisfy her in other, more intimate ways.
Lids fluttering as she tasted the mushroom paté.
Throat working as she swallowed an oyster whole.
Every move was a study in sensuality. Her joy enhanced my own, making the flavors burst across my tongue.
The woodiness of the mushroom. The salt from the oysters.
Our server cleared and boxed the remaining starters, returning with plate after plate of main dishes.
A young couple at a table across the room kept staring at us.
To be fair, we made a bit of a spectacle, ordering more food than we could possibly eat.
They looked to be in their early twenties.
They were also decked out for the evening, like it was a special occasion.
I whispered instructions softly to our server, who nodded.
Vi’s moan as she tried the lamb drew my attention back to her. I shifted, easing the sudden tightness in my slacks.
“It’s so good, Lee. Try.” She extended one delicate hand, fork loaded with a bite for me. I leaned forward, holding her gaze as I wrapped my lips around the fork, easing back slowly to drag the morsel into my mouth.
Earthy and tender, it was delicious.
“Phenomenal.” I extended a forkful of halibut. “Try this one.”
She locked eyes with me, her red lips taking my offering. She swallowed daintily and smiled, eyes flashing with something more than an innocent hunger for food. “I’m in heaven.”
I was in hell. Hyperaware of her every move, I grew harder with every soft moan of appreciation. Each breathy sigh of contentment. It became difficult to focus on what I was eating. It may as well have been a burger from a fast-food joint for all the attention I put into enjoying my dinner.
The staff had cleared our table to prepare for the dessert course when the twenty-something couple I’d noticed earlier approached, hovering as if too embarrassed to come closer without an invitation.
I nodded at the younger man. He stepped forward. “Thank you, sir. That was kind of you to pick up our bill.” He wrapped his arm around his girlfriend, hugging her close. “It’s our anniversary, and you’ve helped make our night special.”
“You’re welcome. Congratulations.”
“It’d be even more special,” he added with a hint of nervousness, “if you’d autograph something for us. You are Lee Murphy, the author, aren’t you?”
Slowly, I nodded. On island, locals knew me from way back and didn’t care how many books I’d sold. It threw me when I was recognized in public.
“I asked our server for a menu and a pen. Will you sign it for us?”
“Sure.” My voice was rusty with embarrassment. Vi’s lips twitched, and I relaxed. She didn’t seem to mind that I was the center of attention.
I asked the couple’s names and signed the menu, wishing them a good night. The man shook my hand and wrapped an arm around his date, ushering her out of the restaurant.
“That was very sweet,” Violet said, her eyes soft in the candlelight.
It made me uncomfortable, being recognized in public, but I tried to shrug off the exposed feeling. “What was your favorite dish?”
Her mouth twitched, like she’d caught on to my obvious change of subject, but she went with it, extolling the virtues of the lamb. I was too full for dessert, and I had a feeling Violet had to be full too, but that didn’t stop us from demolishing the sesame cookies and green tea gelato.
The bag of leftovers we carried to the car made it look like we’d ordered takeout, but I didn’t mind. Everything was delicious, and sharing the experience with Violet made it special.
“You’ve spoiled me,” Violet sighed happily as she relaxed in the driver’s seat, admiring the restaurant one last time.
“That’s the idea.”
“Keep it up, and I’m never moving home,” she warned.
“That’s the idea…” I said it under my breath, but she still seemed to hear.
“What did you say?” She cast me a sidelong glance.
“Nothing,” I said innocently.