Second Chance Girl
Page 32

“I’m bossy. You can say it. You wouldn’t be the first person to mention it. I can’t help it—I promised your grandmother I would take good care of you, so I’m going to do that. Oh, wait. I brought you something.”
She got up and walked into her room, then returned a few seconds later with a tote. She sat down and handed him a clear plastic bag filled with decorated cookies.
“We sometimes sample at our lunch.”
He sat up and opened the bag. Inside were heart-shaped cookies—one decorated like a bride, the other a groom.
“Someone getting married?” he asked before taking a bite.
“Actually, yes. Pallas is engaged, but these are from my friend Silver. She got them from a caterer...” Violet grinned. “You look confused. I know it’s a lot of names.”
She stood up and moved the chair away, then dropped to the floor and sat cross-legged. “Okay, my friend Pallas owns a wedding destination business called Weddings Out of the Box. Couples come from all over to have her design custom weddings. You can have a princess wedding or a cowboy wedding or a Roman wedding.”
He shuddered. “In costume?”
“You’re horrified.”
“Yes. A wedding should be dignified.”
“Not everyone agrees with you. Silver owns a traveling bar. She converted an old trailer and takes it to various venues around town. She decorates it in the theme of whatever the wedding is. She does parties, too.”
“You have interesting friends.”
“I do. There’s Wynn who owns a graphics company, and Natalie who is an artist and part-time gallery manager. Oh, that reminds me.” She pulled something else from her tote and handed it to him.
He stared at what looked like a folded piece of light brown paper with one end sticking out.
“Pull on that,” she said with a smile.
He sat up and did as she suggested. The paper unfolded to become a tiny owl with outstretched wings. As he tugged on the paper again, the wings moved.
He’d seen origami before, but nothing like this. “Astonishing.”
“I know, right? Natalie is so talented. She works with paper. She does these paintings that are incredible and the origami is stunning. She’s been working on mobiles—you know, like you hang over a baby’s crib? Anyway, they’re beautiful.”
“Please tell her thank you from me.”
“I will. Let’s see, that’s everyone except Carol.” Her expression turned impish. “I’m not sure I should talk about her. She’s my sister and I don’t want you saying anything bad about her.”
“Why would I do that?”
“She runs the local animal preserve. Millie is one of her charges.”
“Millie?” Then he understood the reference. “You’re talking about the giraffe who tried to kill me.”
“I’m not sure that was her actual goal, but yes. That’s her.”
“I shall not hold Carol’s profession against her. She is, after all, your family.”
“You’re so magnanimous. It must be the duke thing.”
He chuckled. Very few people he knew would refer to his title as “the duke thing.” Part of it was Violet was American. Over here titles were a charming British oddity—not much more interesting than how he pronounced “schedule.” He liked that. Her casual acceptance made him feel as if he were just the same as everyone else. That there wasn’t an estate awaiting his return, or hundreds of people who were successful or not, depending on the decisions he made.
“Your friends sound very nice,” he told her.
“They are. I’m lucky.”
She was. She had a sister. He’d always wanted siblings, but his mother had died shortly after he’d been born and his father had never remarried. He’d hoped to have children of his own. Penelope had agreed they should start right away. Only she’d put off getting pregnant and then their marriage had ended.
Violet stood. “I stopped by my place and picked up a few things, including a movie I think you’ll like.”
She pulled a DVD from the bag and held it out to him. He looked at the man in Regency dress, the woman holding an I heart Mr. Darcy tote and the large estate in the background and groaned.
“I’m already injured. Why do you wish to punish me further?”
“For sport,” she said with a laugh.
She put the DVD of Austenland into the player, then started back for the sofa. Without thinking, he moved over and patted the space beside him.
“It’s the best view. I promise I shall behave as honorably as Mr. Darcy.”
She hesitated only a second before toeing off her shoes and sliding in next to him.
He was immediately aware of her closeness, the warmth of her and the sweet scent that was, he would guess, a combination of lotions and the woman herself. So much for being able to concentrate on the movie.
She reached for the remote and pushed the start button. “You’re going to love this,” she promised, then shifted slightly so she could rest her head on his shoulder.
He put his arm around her and rested his chin on her head. “You’re right,” he murmured. “I am.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CAROL STARED AT the note on her front door. Even though it was just a handful of words, everything about it was confusing.
Join us for dinner?
She recognized the writing and even if she didn’t, the scrawled Man and his dog under the question made it clear enough. Mathias was inviting her to dinner. But why?
He’d just rejected her. Okay, not her, exactly, but her hug, which was really the same thing. He’d made it more than clear he didn’t want anything to do with her, at least not physically. So what was up with the invitation?
She stood on her porch for several more seconds while she debated possibilities. She could ignore it and pretend she never saw it, but that would be cowardly. Plus what if Mathias came to investigate and found her sulking on her sofa and holding a pint of Ben & Jerry’s? She could text him and say she was too busy, only he might ask what she was doing instead and she honestly couldn’t think of a convincing lie. Or she could simply suck it up and deal with him for the evening. They were neighbors. It wasn’t as if he were moving away anytime soon. She would see him and wouldn’t it be easier if she wasn’t overly worried about said run-ins?
All of which was crap, she thought as she stuffed the note into her jeans pocket and walked back to her car. She was going because in her heart of hearts, she really liked being around Mathias. The man got to her. There, she’d said it. Or at least thought it. She was weak.
However, she would not under any circumstances, throw herself at him again. Or drink alcohol. Although her margarita hadn’t been the problem. It had been his whatever he’d been drinking before she’d arrived. Regardless, she would enjoy the evening with her friend, not stress herself emotionally and their practically brother-sister relationship would be restored.
That decided, she made the short drive between their houses. Sophie greeted her with a happy dance before she could even exit her car. Mathias followed, looking all tall and manly in jeans and a dark blue T-shirt. He gave her a slow, sexy smile. One she was sure he didn’t actually mean. He just radiated hotness. It was like having perfect pitch—a person simply couldn’t help himself.
“Hey,” he said. “You got my note. I’m glad. I stopped and got ribs and some salads on my way home. And I talked to your dad.”