Grand Lake Colorado Series: A Complete Small Town Contemporary Romance Collection

by Alexis Winter

  I listen intently as he talks, and I can’t help but to agree. “You’re very lucky you have her. She’s so sweet.”

  When I say that, I see the corners of his mouth turn down slightly, but he wipes it away completely. “What about you? You married, have children?”

  “No and no. I’ve always dreamed about it, though, finding the one perfect person who will change my whole outlook on life. Having children and watching them grow. Growing up, my family wasn’t very traditional, so of course, that’s all I want.”

  “The classic happily ever after,” he breathes out.

  I laugh. “I guess so.”

  There’s a long drawn out minute as we both look out over the lake. “So, what do you plan on doing here? I mean, are you going to open your own law office, or do you plan on not working for a while?”

  “That is the question.” He laughs out. “Nah, I’m still trying to figure it out. I don’t want anything that’s going to keep me as busy as I was before, so law is out. But at the same time, I need something to keep my hands and mind busy, something to keep me moving. I haven’t figured it all out yet.”

  “I’m sure you will…in time.” I tip my bottle back and take another swig of beer. “Anyway, I guess I better get going. I left Jane at the bakery by herself. I better go check and make sure the place isn’t up in flames.” I set my beer bottle on the table between us and stand.

  He joins me, opening the door to show me into the house.

  “Well, thanks for coming by, and thanks for the cupcakes. Margo is going to love them.”

  “You’re welcome. I thought it might be fun for her to decorate them any way she wants.”

  He opens the front door now and I step out. “Don’t be a stranger,” I tell him.

  “You too,” he replies, waving before shutting the door between us as I make my way to my car.

  Climbing behind the wheel, my heart is racing like I’ve just run a marathon. I’m a little surprised, actually. Every time he comes into the bakery, it almost seems like he goes out of his way to not have to talk or be friendly. But here, he opened up like a blooming rose. He was warm and friendly. He laughed and smiled. He told me things about himself, though nothing about Margo’s mom, but I guess that’s to be expected, especially if he’s still not completely healed from the whole thing yet.

  I almost expected for him to open the door, take the cupcakes, and then shut the door without inviting me in. I was prepared for that, but he was completely opposite of everything I thought he’d be. I wonder why he was so at ease today. Was it because I caught him off guard by showing up unexpectedly? Maybe it’s because he’s feeling more comfortable around me now that we’ve talked a few times. Or maybe it’s just because he really is starved for adult interaction. It’s just him and his daughter locked away up here. Either way, I hope he continues to open up to me.

  Four

  Carson

  I was taken completely by surprise when I opened the door and found her on the other side. It was almost like my subconscious had been calling for her, and she listened. I haven’t been able to keep her off my mind since that last time we went to the bakery a few days ago. Something about her pulls me in. At first, I thought that maybe she reminded me of my late wife, but I don’t see how that could be. They look nothing alike. Kate was blonde with blue eyes and ivory skin that flushed pink every time I ran my finger across her cheek. Violet has a beautiful olive complexion, with dark eyes and long raven-colored hair that’s as smooth and sleek as glass. Kate was short and thin but had rounded hips and face. Violet is tall and thin, and she has angular features, a sharp jawline, and high cheekbones. But she’s also round in all the right places. Her ass is like a juicy apple I would love to bite into, and her chest is easily more than a handful—I’d say at least a C cup.

  The two women are completely different in every way, so why do I feel this pull toward Violet? I’m not in any kind of condition to start up anything with her. I can’t. Physically and mentally can’t. Not only do I not have anything in me to give, but I can’t subject Margo to something like that. But I guess just because my heart and mind aren’t ready to date again, that doesn’t stop the attraction I have toward her. She’s a beautiful woman. Anyone who doesn’t think so has to be blind. She’s sweet and always welcoming toward Margo. And she’s a good person. I mean, who else would bring over a dozen cupcakes out of the blue?

  I plop back down onto the couch and look at the scattered papers in front of me. There I see blueprints for the additional garage I’m planning on building, along with some listings for wood distributors for the boat I plan on building. There are also bank statements and a map of the property lines so I stay well within my limits. In the far corner of my mind, I have this idea to build and sell custom boats.

  I spent many summers out on the ocean with my own father growing up, and we’d built many boats. It’s something I’ve always enjoyed doing and, to be honest, something that comes naturally to me. I find myself rather good at it, even though I’ve never been properly trained. I figure I’ll start with my own boat and make sure I still have the time and skillset a project like this will need.

  I have a delivery coming this afternoon to start building my own boat. If it goes well, I plan on booking some meeting with investors to try to get the money I’ll need to start the business up without taking it out of my own pocket. Sure, I could use my own bank account and skip the backers, but that only puts me more at risk of losing everything, and with Margo, that’s not an option. I have to make sure that I always have a home for her, that I’m always able to take care of her and provide.

  “Daddy?” Margo says, walking into the room and rubbing her eyes.

  “Hi, sweetheart. Did you wake up?”

  She nods as she climbs onto my lap, and I hold her against my chest.

  “Guess what?”

  “What?” she asks, voice still thick with sleep.

  “Violet came by here while you were sleeping.”

  “She did?” She perks up.

  “Yep, and she brought you a dozen cupcakes and icing so you can decorate them yourself. What do you think of that?”

  She gasps and jerks her head upright. “Yay! Can I do it now?”

  I laugh. “How about we have some lunch? Then when we’re done, I’ll set the table up for you?”

  “Alright. I want sketti-o’s,” she says, moving to lay down on the couch.

  I get up and go to the kitchen, pouring a can of SpaghettiOs’s into a bowl and tossing it into the microwave. I open the fridge and search for something for myself. There isn’t much, but I find everything I need for a sandwich. The two of us have our lunch on the couch, watching some cartoon, and when we finish, she makes sure I hold up my end of the deal. I take the cupcakes out of the box and put them on the kitchen table. Then I pull out all the piping bags of icing. She climbs up onto a chair and gets busy.

  I go back into the living room and start picking up the mess of paperwork I left lying around. I know by now that if I don’t put them away, they’ll just end up smeared with juice and jam later. I stack the papers and slide them into a folder neatly, then put the folder on the entertainment center where she can’t reach it. I’m heading back to the kitchen when I hear a knock at the door. I turn and go to open it, finding the delivery man standing before me. He has a clipboard in hand. “Are you Carson Evans?”

  “I am.”

  “Sign here, please.”

  I take the clipboard and scribble my name across the line.

  “Where would you like it?”

  “If you could, just drop it here in front of the garage door.”

  “Will do.”

  I go back inside and find Margo completely covered in icing. The cupcakes look to be done, but instead of throwing out the extra icing, she’s decided to suck it out of the tube.

  “Margo, honey. You can’t eat that much icing. You’ll be sick,” I say, walking over and taking the piping bags away.

  She ju
st smiles up at me with her blue teeth.

  I laugh and shake my head. “Go into the bathroom and clean yourself up. I’ll clean up the table and floor…and chair.”

  She runs off and I begin putting the cupcakes back into their box and wiping down every surface she’s come in contact with.

  Later in the day, Margo has been fed and bathed. She is now working on some art at the table while I clean up after dinner. She comes running into me with a paper in her hand.

  “Daddy, Daddy.” She tugs on my shirt.

  “What?” I ask, closing the dishwasher.

  “I made Violet a thank you card for the cupcakes. Can we take it to her?”

  I laugh and look at my watch. “Honey, it’s going on eight o’clock. I don’t think Violet is there. But I’ll tell you what. If you clean up your mess and get in bed, we’ll go by there in the morning and get some donuts for breakfast. And then you can give her the paper.”

  She smiles and runs off back to the table to clean up.

  She’s sound asleep by eight thirty, leaving me to my own devices now. It’s strange. Before, I felt I didn’t even have enough time for sleep. Now, I feel like I don’t know what to do with all this time, especially when Margo is occupied. I stare up at the TV screen but can’t really watch it. I’m lost in my own thoughts. I’m tired but not tired enough to sleep. My body doesn’t feel tired, just my mind. It’s like I’ve been having a mental fight with myself for the last three years. No matter how much I sleep, it never goes away.

  I turn off the light and lie down on the couch, hoping the darkness will help relax me enough so I start to feel tired. Some movie is playing on the screen, and I watch it without really watching it. I keep my eyes on it, but my mind is free to wonder. I think about the new house, how different it is from Chicago, all my plans I have regarding starting the new business, and, as always, Margo. Will she be happy here? Will she like the school here? But sure enough, the one thing I’ve been trying to avoid pops back into my head. Violet.

  I know I shouldn’t, but I let my mind wonder when it comes to her. I can see our first kiss. I imagine it happening out on the dock underneath a dark sky with a million shining stars. I’ve just given her a ride on the boat, and the whole night felt romantic and charged. She turns to face me to thank me for the ride or to say she has to leave, I’m not sure. But then I lean forward, capturing her lips with mine. At first, she’s shocked, her lips unmoving, but she warms up to it, and she pulls me against her, kissing me harder, faster. I can see myself picking her up against me and moving us to the Chaise outside. I lay her down and cover her body with mine. She feels good pressed against me; she feels right.

  My body begins to come alive with the mental images, and it snaps me out of it. I roll my eyes at myself and groan, forcing myself to watch what’s playing on the TV this time, leaving no room for my mind to wander.

  When I feel tired enough to sleep, I shut off the TV and go to my bedroom, falling into bed and bringing the pillows all around me. Sleeping alone will never be something I get used to, but if I’m tired enough, it’s not impossible. Before I know it, I’m drifting into a deep sleep.

  I’m sitting at my desk in my home office when I hear the front door open.

  “Cason, Margo, I’m home,” she yells, and I get up and walk into the living room where Violet is standing, holding several grocery bags.

  “I missed you,” I say, leaning in for the bags but giving her a quick kiss as I take them.

  She kisses me back and giggles. “I missed you too. Where’s Margo?”

  “Margs!” I shout, walking the items into the kitchen.

  Margo comes running down the stairs, straight into Violet’s arms. “You’re finally back,” she says, hugging her tightly.

  Violet laughs. “Was an hour too long for you?”

  Margo nods.

  “Well, I’m sorry, but I got you something.” She carries her into the kitchen and reaches into one of the bags, pulling out a cookie decorating kit. All the cookies are in the shapes of pumpkins, ghosts, and bats for Halloween.

  “Yay!” Margo squeals, taking the plastic container and looking at it more closely.

  “After dinner, we’ll decorate them. Okay?”

  Margo smiles and nods. “Okay. Thank you, Mommy.”

  Violet smiles and hugs her tightly, but that mommy comment has my hair standing on end. She’s never called Violet that before, and it makes me worry that maybe she’s getting a little too comfortable.

  Violet places her on her feet, and she runs back into the other room. I move over to capture her in my arms this time, placing a hand on either side of her and trapping her. “What was that about?” I ask, my lips only centimeters away from hers.

  She shrugs. “She asked if she could call me that, and I didn’t want to tell her no.”

  “Are you okay with that? Being called Mommy seems kind of permanent, you know.”

  She reaches up and wraps her arms around my neck. “I know, and I’m okay with it as long as you are.”

  I smile. “Oh, I’m more than okay with it,” I tell her, moving in and kissing her lips hard and full of passion. I pull her tighter against my chest, my hands finding the small of her back before moving down to squeeze her ass.

  She lets out a squeal when I pick her up against me. Her legs wrap around my hips as I move her over to the table, setting her down.

  Margo is suddenly nowhere to be found, so I don’t worry when I start removing Violet’s clothes in the middle of the kitchen. I free myself from my jeans and position myself at her entrance. With one thrust, I’m sliding into her scorching heat, overwhelmed with the need to explode.

  I wake, and my body is covered in a sheen of sweat. My heart is racing, and my lungs can’t get enough oxygen. That dream felt real, even though at the time, I knew I was dreaming. I could feel her heat as I held her against me. I could feel her soft lips on mine. I could feel the overwhelming need to explode. But I guess that’s just my body’s way of telling me to bleed the valve. I haven’t been with a woman in years, not since my wife. Being a man, my body has needs, and if they’re ignored, it will try to take care of them itself. That’s all that dream was. It doesn’t mean that I feel any certain way about Violet or that in the back of my mind, I’m planning on her being a replacement for Kate.

  Once I remind myself of that, I’m able to take control of my body, to calm myself down. I look over at the clock and see that it’s going on six a.m. Might as well get up now. I trudge to the connected bathroom and turn on the shower. I avoid the mirror and my haggard appearance as I step in beneath the hot flow of water. I hang my head and let the water flow over it, my eyes fluttering shut.

  Behind my lids, I see my wife—my late wife. I see her soft ivory skin as she moves beneath me, and my body comes alive again. Apparently, this isn’t a problem that’s going to go away, so I take myself in hand, giving into the vision of the time I had with my wife. I hear her soft moans, feel her soft lips on my neck. As my hand moves faster, my release starts to form like a growing balloon in my stomach.

  Just as my release rises to the surface, the vision changes. It’s no longer my wife that I’m with. It’s her, Violet. Her black hair is fanned out across my pillows, her dark eyes are on mine, and her thick, plump lips parted as moans escape. It’s too late to stop it. My release breaks free and flows hot and heavy onto the shower floor.

  I’m breathing heavy, and my heart is racing as I try to get myself under control. I place my hand against the shower wall and lean against it, trying to calm my body and my mind as a sudden panic rises when I think about what I just did. In the three years my wife has been gone, I have not slept, touched, or even thought about any other woman. Why now? Why this woman? Is it impossible to just be friends with her and let Margo have a solid relationship with another woman without wanting to fuck it all up? I hate myself more than I can explain or even understand. I feel angry, confused, weak. I should be able to keep myself in check, but as soon as I th
ink I do, she comes sliding back through the small cracks that have formed in me. It’s like I can’t escape her. The hate I feel for myself turns into hate for her. Why is she doing this to me? Can’t she see how broken I am? Can’t she understand the pain and hurt that I go through on a daily basis? Is this what she wants? Does she want to take over my every thought?

  No, don’t be ridiculous. She’s a nice woman who’s only trying to make you and your daughter feel at home. Don’t twist this into something it’s not, I tell myself. The worst part is, I have to see her again today. I promised Margo we’d go there for breakfast so she could give her the thank you card she made. Will I even be able to look at her without remembering that dream and what I’ve just done?

  I have to push it to the back of my mind.

  I get out and get dressed for the day. I head to the kitchen and start a pot of coffee. Margo will probably sleep for another couple of hours, so while I enjoy my coffee, I head into my home office to start unpacking it and getting it in order.

  I hook up my computer and hardware, then move on to unpacking the couple of boxes of office supplies I have. With everything in order, I turn the computer on and check my email, which I’ve been ignoring lately. I find an email from my dad, and I open it, finding a link. I click the link and see that he’s built the website for the boat company I’ve been talking about starting up. The website looks good and professional, but it’s not something that I need right now, specially since I haven’t made up my mind one-hundred-percent yet.

  “Daddy, donut,” Margo says, walking into the office.

  I laugh and shake my head. “It’s still a little early, honey. Why don’t you go watch some TV and wake up, and I’ll pour you a glass of milk? We’ll leave soon, okay?”

  She nods, rubs her eyes, yawns, and walks out.

  I push my chair away from my desk and go to the kitchen to pour her a glass of milk. I hand it over to her and sit at her side. “How did you sleep?”

  She offers up a sleepy smile. “Good. I dreamed about Violet.”