“I didn’t do anything, Dad. Ronan is the one who agreed to donate a piece. It’s a huge thing and it’s all him.”
And Mathias, she thought, who’d convinced his brother. Possibly because he felt guilty about their night together, which wasn’t something she was going to discuss with her father. Or with Mathias, apparently. He’d made it clear he didn’t want to talk about it. Which left her wondering what, if anything, was going on between them.
* * *
ULRICH FOUND HIMSELF in the uncomfortable position of missing a woman he barely knew. All right, he knew her reasonably well—they’d spent the last twenty-four hours together—but still. It wasn’t as if they’d been dating or anything. He shouldn’t mind she was gone.
Only he found that he did mind. He missed having Violet breeze in and out of his room. He missed the sound of her tapping on her computer keyboard when he was trying to sleep, and her fussing as she made sure he took his pills. She was nothing he’d imagined—she was smart, funny, kind and beautiful.
Having her hover over him while he was in bed was a particular kind of torture. Thank goodness his various aches and pains and the medications he was still on were enough to keep his, ah, interest in check. Otherwise he would have been embarrassing them both with an obvious reaction to her presence.
He glanced at the clock in the Cadillac dashboard and saw nearly two hours had passed. Surely she would be returning soon. She’d said she was having lunch with her friends, then stopping by her apartment before hurrying back. She had said hurry, had she not? What if he needed her?
He knew he was being ridiculous. No doubt from the bump on his head. He was perfectly capable of spending a few hours by himself. As a rule, he enjoyed his own company. He liked solitude and not having to deal with any problems or concerns for just a few minutes. Now he had entire days of it. He should enjoy his recovery as much as he could—he would be back home soon enough.
Not that he didn’t want to go. Of course he did. Battenberg Park meant everything to him, as did his grandmother. It was just...there was something about Violet.
He spent the next thirty minutes trying to convince himself he was wrong—that she was completely ordinary. Then he heard her let herself into her room and every part of him went on alert. It was as if he could breathe easier now that she’d returned.
She knocked on the half-open door that separated their rooms, and called out.
“Hi, hi. It’s me.” She walked in and immediately put her hands on her hips. “You’re not in bed!”
How he wanted her to mean that other than how she did. If only she were scolding him for not being ready for her arrival in a dozen delicious ways. Instead he was confident she was referring to the fact that she was concerned he’d sat up too long. Which he probably had. He made a mental note not to mention the fact that he’d done a little pacing to pass the time.
“How was your lunch?” he asked.
“You’ve been sitting up the whole time, haven’t you?”
He hesitated a second before admitting. “Perhaps.”
“Get in bed,” she said, pointing. “Now.”
She looked ready to take him on, he thought as he allowed himself a moment to enjoy the temper snapping in her green eyes and the firm set of her mouth. A mouth that haunted him through the night.
“Yes, miss.”
He rose, pleased he was steady on his feet, then walked over to the bed. He was dressed in a T-shirt and sweatpants. He stretched out on top of the covers, then rolled on his side so he was facing her.
“Better?”
“Much.”
“Good.” He flashed her a smile. “Now please, tell me about your lunch.”
Her stern expression immediately softened. She reached for the desk chair and dragged it over to the bed. “Were you lonely by yourself? You haven’t been spending time with anyone but me, have you? I’m sorry. I should have thought of that.”
He almost told her he didn’t need much company beyond her, but didn’t want to her to read too much into his words.
“I’m interested in your life here,” he said instead. “What is this town like? Should I judge it by my room?”
She looked around at the Cadillac-slash-bed and the drive-in size television mounted on the wall.
“Let’s not,” she said with a laugh. “Did you eat the lunch I had delivered?”
“Every bite. You’re quite the taskmaster.”
“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 t
here 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.”
“About?” she asked, following him into the house.
“The giraffes. He and your uncle had just started working on the best routes to get Millie’s herd here. He said you’d stopped by earlier. The barn construction starts Monday. Did he mention we’ve settled on three giraffes, not counting Millie?”
“No, he didn’t.” She set her purse on the kitchen counter, then watched as he poured her a glass of white wine. He opened a beer for himself and led the way into the family room.
“Based on the cost of the giraffes, their care and feeding and transportation expenses, three makes the most sense. Plus any more would mean too much work for you.”
She’d seen her father yesterday. When had all this happened?
She settled on the sofa because there was no way she could sit in one of the chairs. Especially not the chair, where they’d done it. Or rather he’d done it to her and she’d had the best orgasm of her life. Nope, no chair for her.
Sophie jumped up next to her and snuggled close. Carol began to pat her as Mathias took the non-sex chair and rested his forearms on his knees as he leaned toward her.
“My brothers and I can be real competitive, so we’re each taking a giraffe,” he said. “For the trip. We’re mapping out a route from where they are now to here. The first one who gets a giraffe to Happily Inc wins.” He grinned. “It’s really complicated. There are permits required and we’re crossing state lines. No bridges, no overpasses, which means a lot of back roads.”
“How on earth do you do that? Don’t tell me there’s a Google app for giraffe transportation.”
“Not yet, but there’s a lot of information. Plus you can call people. I had to ask about a bridge in this one town in Texas and the guy at the gas station went out and measured for me. He was really interested in what we’re doing.”
He sipped his beer. “So I was thinking, you should get in touch with some local media. They’d find the story appealing and it would help raise awareness for the foundation. You’re going to need ongoing donations for taking care of the giraffes, and the other cows.” The grin returned, then faded. “Plus the whole vet training.”
OMG! How much time had he spent with her father? “Is there anything you and Ed didn’t discuss?”
“I’m not sure. Probably not. My point is you can use this to your advantage. Fill the bank with lots of coin and save the world. Anyway, Nick and Ronan are in. They’re planning their routes. Once we have them done, we figured we’d hire some college students to drive them, just to confirm no one has to ask a giraffe to bend her head to fit under something.”
“I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I’ll admit, I find it confusing. Why are you doing this?”
His eyebrows drew together. “Why not?”
“You’re busy with your own life.”
He straightened and waved her comment away. “This is fun. I mean, come on. How often do you get to call total strangers and ask them to measure a bridge because of a giraffe?”
“Practically never.”
“See? It’s great. Maybe I’ll create a line of giraffe-inspired dishes. The pattern’s kind of dense, so maybe just for a border.” He pulled open a drawer in the end table and pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. Seconds later, he was sketching away, as if they hadn’t been talking.
“You’re so weird,” she muttered and stood. Sophie got up and followed her, tail wagging.
“And you are the most cheerful dog,” Carol told her and opened the back door.
They went out together. Sophie made a beeline for the lawn where she sniffed and sniffed before settling on the right spot for a bathroom break. Carol looked over the vast expanse of the animal preserve and tried to imagine what it would look like when Millie had her herd.
It would take time for
everyone to settle. Each of the giraffes would have to get used to new surroundings. She would keep them on their regular diet for a few months before slowly transitioning them to what she fed them here. Speaking of feeding them, she would have to talk to the supplier where she got her food now. Every day she hoisted tree branches to Millie height so the giraffe could eat away, as if she were in the wild. More giraffes meant more food to be ordered.
They didn’t just need a full-time vet, she realized. She would need an assistant, maybe two. The new giraffes would require monitoring, especially when they started meeting each other. She had the rest of her animals to care for, as well.
A quality problem, she told herself.
When Sophie had finished investigating the backyard, they went back inside. Mathias had moved to the kitchen table. He had several sheets of paper scattered around him. Each was a variation on a giraffe print, some with a border, some not. She wondered how often he was like this—losing himself in his work. She supposed it could get really annoying over time, but she was new enough to the process to find his intensity charming. Of course she found everything about him charming, so that was hardly news.
She went into the kitchen and read the instructions for heating the ribs, then started the oven. She set the dining room table and put the ribs on a cookie sheet, then waited for Mathias to surface.
But while she was willing to be patient, Sophie was not. The little dog walked up to him, put her paws on his thigh, shoved her head under his arm and barked. Mathias blinked.
“What?” He looked around at the papers on the table, Carol standing in his kitchen and the dog licking his arm. “Oh, sorry. I got involved in my work.”
“I could see.”
“What time is it? You could have told me to quit being an ass. It’s just dishes.”
“It’s not just dishes, it’s what you do. Has Sophie been fed?”
“Yes. Did she try to tell you otherwise?” He shook his head. “You always do that and I never fall for it.”
Sophie swiped his chin with her tongue, as if pointing out a dog had to try.
Second Chance Girl--A Modern Fairy Tale Romance Page 14