by Amelia Jade
“I can’t,” she replied, unwilling to even look in his direction, instead staring across the lobby at the elevator. “I’m not…I can’t do that. I might not ever be able to. You’re asking too much of me, Ivore.”
The conversation was getting painfully personal. She wished it would just be over already.
“Technically right now I’m not asking anything of you. I’m offering you a place to set up shop. A place that ticks all the boxes that you need. The only downside is that yes, it will be on close proximity to where I live. Can you handle that in exchange for the chance to live your dream?”
There was a long pause while Violet tried to form the right words that would express her feelings.
“Listen,” Ivore said, speaking again before she could. “Take the offer. Take the money, and do what you need to do. Live your dream. If you want to talk to me in the meantime, that would be amazing. But if you need me out of the picture, then I can do that too. I can be just a wallet for you, if that’s what it would take.”
“You would do that?”
“For now. I won’t like it, but keeping you close will give me more time with you, and more time to get you to change your mind about me, to prove that we can work together. In any capacity.”
That was the most overt comment either of them had made, and it left her feeling uneasy, but also struck by the intensity of his words and the obvious emotions behind them. It begged the question of just why he cared so much about her. She wasn’t a great catch, that was for certain.
Too short, too overweight, and with more mental baggage than she was comfortable admitting even to herself. What could someone like Ivore, with his big muscles and kind heart, see in her? She had nothing. No looks, no money, no self-confidence. What made him so willing to invest such a large sum of money in her, and profess to having an interest in her. In Violet Walker.
All of those questions made it clear that she should probably turn down his offer. Say thank you, but no thank you, and walk out of the lobby, leaving Ivore forever in her past.
Turning down the opportunity to live a dream she’d had since childhood was hard, and even in her current state Violet was having a hard time of it. Although she was trying to ignore it, to wish it away, a good part of her wanted nothing more than to accept his offer.
“Okay,” she said, speaking quickly before the darkness in her mind could overwhelm her.
“I accept.”
Chapter Twelve
Ivore
He caught her smiling.
It happened as he was overseeing a team of men directing the removal of the last of the demolition debris, telling them what was going. Things were a little chaotic, as there were multiple teams working on the project all at once. But he wanted it done as soon as possible, and if it cost him some more in labor, well, really it was costing the military.
They had yet to allow him and his brothers to go and retrieve their treasure, so it was their own fault they had to pay for it all out of pocket. Idiots.
He’d seen her looking over the cleared space, her eyes somewhere else, likely imagining what it was going to look like once everything was done. Ivore doubted she was even aware of it. Every time something happy had come up, Violet immediately tamped down on her emotions, refusing to let herself feel joy. It bothered him to the point of anger. Not at Violet, but at whatever it was in her head that was trying to drag the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen down into the mud.
During the past two days, however, he’d become positive that with each new joyful or happy or funny moment, she’d come closer and closer to letting herself smile and accept it. Now he had proof. He wasn’t going to bring any attention to it however, because that might spoil the mood. Ivore was a bit thick in the head, but even he could eventually learn that if this were to happen, it was going to have to happen on Violet’s terms. Not his.
So he just stood there, pretending to look anywhere but at her, studying the lines of her face, the dimples in her cheeks, and the slight part in her full lips as intensely as he could. This was a look he wanted to savor. He wished there was a way he could take a picture, to have the image captured forever.
There would be more times like this though, he told himself. So far everything had been progressing smoothly. It hadn’t taken him long to find a contractor, not after he’d told anyone that he’d pay triple their normal rates. Take that, military budget! It was so fun to give away someone else’s money.
The plans had been drawn up and everything finalized even as crews had begun to do demolition on the inside of the building. It was going to take a lot of work to reconfigure the lobby for her shop, but Ivore—and the military—were sparing no expense. There was no way to get a loading dock installed, so instead they were going to install a freight elevator that went down a level to the parking garage. Even below, crews were already working on the renovation process.
He couldn’t wait to see it take shape.
“Ivore.”
He nearly jumped, his attention having waned as he daydreamed of happy Violet.
“Yes?” They’d spoken a few times, but briefly, and only when absolutely necessary.
“I was wondering something.”
“Okay?” He told his heart to remain calm, but that was impossible where she was concerned. Violet had the innate ability to send it into overdrive every time she came near. Even now it was thundering painfully against his ribs, trying to break out like some sort of cheesy cartoon he’d once seen. Nobody else had ever made him feel this way.
“I brought some cupcakes today that I baked, and—”
“Of course!” He didn’t even hesitate.
“Are you sure? You don’t have to, but I just figure that you—”
“I’d love to be your taste-tester. You make delicious brownies.”
Violet stopped speaking, her mouth wide open mid-word.
Ivore blinked. “That’s not what you were going to ask, is it?”
She shook her head, the ghost of a smile on her face. It wasn’t the full-blown thing, but he wasn’t going to be picky. This was huge for her. He needed to just let it happen.
“No, it’s not. I brought several dozen, and I wanted to go do a sort of test run out front, to attract some attention. I’m not really interested in giving them away, but I was thinking we could sell them for a dollar flat.”
“Sounds brilliant. I’m in. What do you want me to do?”
“Honestly, I was sort of hoping you would use your size and big voice to sort of rope people in.”
“What are you trying to say? That I’m a loudmouth?”
This time she actually snickered a little, though it tapered off quickly. “I’m not sure I would go that far,” she replied, trying very hard to keep her voice flat. She succeeded. Mostly.
“Right. Okay, let’s do it.”
He stole one of the folding tables from the construction workers while Violet pulled the car around to the front. Together they unloaded what felt to him to be a ton of cupcakes.
“Just how late were you up last night?” he asked, taking off the lid to his favorite, her red-velvet cheesecake ones. He stared longingly, until a small, thick-fingered hand snatched one up and handed it to him. “Here, just have it already, I don’t want you drooling all over them.”
There was enough levity in her words to make him do a double take. Or would have been if he weren’t too busy downing the cupcake in two monstrous bites, making satisfied and happy noises the entire time.
“There. Now, if you sell them all, maybe I’ll bake you an entire tray tomorrow.”
Ivore immediately stepped around the table into the pathway of the passersby, not bothering to question the statement. “OKAY PEOPLE! CUPCAKES HERE. LET’S GO, DELICIOUS CUPCAKES FOR ONLY A DOLLAR. TASTE THEM BEFORE THE STORE OPENS!”
He called out far and wide, his voice easily carrying thanks to his dragon powers. Was it cheating?
Hell yes.
Did he care?
Hell no.
There was a tray of cupcakes at stake. Everything was fair game as far as he was concerned.
“You there!” he stabbed a finger at a young male walking down the street with a female lovingly attached to his side. “Buy your lady a cupcake? Just a dollar apiece, and they’re delicious.”
It was just too easy. One look from the girl—they had to be mid-to-late teenagers—and the male knew he was done for. He just sighed and reached for his wallet. Ivore grinned. That tray was his.
Showboating and speaking to a crowd had always been more of Cowl’s thing, but Ivore was no slouch. In his past life, before being buried in an avalanche by his youngest brother, he’d ruled over a town. He was used to being in the public eye. Today he put that to good effect.
In less than an hour there wasn’t a single cupcake left on a tray anywhere. The pink trays with their clear plastic covers disappeared back into Violet’s little car, and the table went back inside.
“I think that was a success,” he stated confidently.
They were standing in the part of the lobby unaffected by the renovations. Violet was counting the money, a satisfied look on her face.
“I think we should have sold them for more than a dollar. That was too easy.”
“Easy? I’ll have you know I worked hard.”
“I bribed you with food. Of course you worked hard. It’s called strategy on my part.”
Ivore frowned. “Wait. Did you use me?”
This time Violet did laugh. A short, single-shot laugh, but it was a laugh nonetheless. “Maybe. I’ll never tell.”
He wasn’t sure what had brought the change in her, but he was of two minds about it. First, he was ecstatic to see her show any sort of positive emotion. He was tired of her always beating herself up.
“Well, what will you tell me?” he asked.
The quizzical look he got in return left him hopeful. “What do you want to know?”
He shrugged. “Anything, really. Where did you grow up? Do you have any family? That sort of thing. I feel like we’ve yet to truly get to know one another.” He left it at that, not wanting to push too hard, but wondering if she might open up about something that wasn’t romantic.
“I’m born and bred from Barton City,” she said after a moment. “My parents live out on the eastern edges of town. Typical suburban family life. Two-car garage house, middle-class upbringing. I went to good schools. Not private, mind you, but I was well looked after as a child. I have a sister who doesn’t live here anymore. She lives out in the Northeast with her husband.” Violet paused, and he immediately saw her mood begin to sour.
What, what was it that was the landmine that seemed to trigger it? Was it her sister? He doubted it. It was something else. Ivore replayed the conversation in his head. One word above all stuck out as casually mentioned.
Husband.
There was something about that, that bothered Violet.
“Any other questions?” she asked, the enthusiasm gone from her voice.
“Tons.” He could go on for hours. Ivore wanted to know everything about her that he possibly could.
“Like what?”
“What’s your biggest regret?”
Violet’s hand clenched the money tightly, bills crinkling noisily in her hand. “Ask me something else,” she said hoarsely, staring straight ahead at the wall.
Ivore was starting to form an idea in his mind. “When was the last time you let yourself be happy?”
He watched his mate crumple inward slightly, taking his question like a blow to the stomach. It was a minor move, but it was clear he was on the right track.
“What happened to you?” he pressed.
Violet moaned. She didn’t run, however, like she had every time before. Part of her wanted to tell him. To talk to him. He could be her comfort, her solace, if only she would let him.
“Who hurt you, Violet? Who hurt you so badly?”
She looked up at him. Now it was his turn to stagger, the pain and suffering in her eyes uncovered fully for the first time. It washed over him and he felt, he felt his mate’s agony. He never wanted to see it again, but he had to. Ivore forced himself to meet her gaze, to take it all in.
Never before had he thought himself unworthy of a test of strength. Ivore was an ice dragon, and one of the most powerful dragons he’d ever met. Only his brother Caine could boast to be stronger.
Yet here, in the lobby of an apartment building, the short curvy woman with golden-brown eyes sent him reeling. It was a palpable thing, a physical blow that bowed his shoulders. Ivore’s lips peeled back, baring his teeth.
“Who hurt me?” Violet’s voice was ragged and raw, emotion pouring forth from within her.
Ivore drew upon his dragon powers. Ice flowed through his veins, calming the mighty tempest of his fury that had been growing, strengthening his limbs. He continued to stare. For the first time she was opening up to him. Maybe not in detail, but she was showing him how broken she was.
No matter what happened. No matter what she said, Ivore was going to stand tall. He was going to be her strength, her pillar. She would soon learn that no matter how much it hurt, how bad she wanted to give in, she wouldn’t have to. Not with him around. Ivore would sooner see himself torn apart than be anything less than whatever Violet needed.
“You don’t understand, Ivore. You’ve never understood. Nobody hurt me, Ivore.”
He didn’t understand. Then where was the pain coming from?
“I’m sorry.”
She jerked. “What?”
Ivore stood straighter. “I’m sorry, Violet. For whatever happened to you. I wish there was some way I could make it better. To make the hurt go away. I could help if you would let me.”
Violet backed away from him, shaking her head. “Sorry doesn’t fix what I did, Ivore. And I won’t do it again. Not to you.” Then she hurried out of the building, only looking back once as she pushed on the door to outside.
What she had done.
Suddenly Ivore understood. It wasn’t just pain he was seeing in her eyes.
It was guilt.
Chapter Thirteen
Violet
The front door opened and closed.
“Violet!”
She jerked at the anger in Andria’s voice.
“Yes?” Had she done something wrong?
“What the hell did you do to Ivore?”
Violet didn’t respond immediately. “I didn’t do anything to him…What are you talking about?”
“Well he sure isn’t upset over nothing. He’s been moping around the apartment all afternoon and evening. Cowl finally intervened, but he wasn’t able to get anything out of him. Just that he’s feeling helpless.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
Andria’s frustration grew visible. “Don’t play stupid with me. I’ve noticed you two hanging out, and I know that you’re ‘business partners,’ whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean.”
Violet looked away, unable to meet her friend’s green-eyed stare. Not when she was called out.
“V, talk to me. What is going on?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Andria wasn’t backing down. She came over and sat down on the other couch. “Well, if you won’t go talk to a professional, then you need to talk to me.”
A professional. She meant a shrink. A therapist. What the hell was the therapist going to tell her that Violet didn’t already know? Her life was a disaster, and it was all her own fault for being selfish and self-obsessed. For being weak and trading on someone else’s feelings toward her to get what she wanted.
Someone else had paid the price for that, and she had to live with it. It was a rather cut and dry story as far as Violet was concerned.
“You need to talk to someone, V. About what happened, or about what is happening. I don’t really care, but you can’t keep it all contained up in that pretty but thick-skulled head of yours.”
“Nothing is happening,” she said stubbo
rnly.
Andria didn’t hold back. “You’re so full of shit and you fucking know it. You can lie to yourself all you want, but everyone else can see it, so do me a favor and don’t lie to me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Ivore!”
Violet shook her head, biting her lip. “Ivore and I made a business deal. He’s a bank, a wallet, an investor. Nothing more. That’s all he is to me.”
“Right. Do you kiss all your investment bankers then?” Andria shot back.
“Excuse me?”
Andria shook her head. “Don’t get all angry with me. Everyone can see what’s going on except for you, V, because you’re intentionally blinding yourself. You care for him. We see you with him. You try to hide it, to not allow yourself to get close, but it’s clear you think he’s more than a friend.”
Violet pulled a pillow into her chest and slipped her feet under her butt, looking studiously at the coffee table in front of her.
“The few times I’ve seen you where you haven’t been overtly miserable is happier than I’ve seen you…I think ever,” Andria stated. “So if this is about J—”
“I said I’m not ready to talk about it,” she snapped.
“It’s been what, six years now? You need to stop blaming yourself and move on.”
Violet shook her head. “How can I? It was my fault. I caused it. You don’t just forget something like that, Andria. I hope you never have to experience that.”
“I didn’t say forget it,” Andria replied softly. “But you can grieve and move on as well. Keep the memories, and while I don’t believe you aren’t, you can strive to be a better person. That doesn’t mean you need to be alone.”
“It’s safer that way.”
“Of course it is. Not allowing yourself to feel is going to make everything completely safe. Like living in a bubble.”
“No. Not for me. Safer for him.”
Andria stared at her. Then she did the last thing in the world Violet expected. She started to laugh. Her best friend held her sides, tears streaming down her face.
“What the hell is so funny about that?”