by Lori Foster
“I do.” Colt looked down at his bloody hands, curled them into fists and closed his eyes. “Some things are tough to shake off.”
This time when Hogan put his arm around Colt’s shoulders, they were both in better control. “I’ll talk to her soon. But tonight, I think we have other priorities.”
“Hogan?”
He and Colt turned to see her struggling to her feet.
They rushed forward together, Hogan taking her hand on her uninjured arm, Colt putting a hand behind her back.
“Careful,” Hogan said.
“I don’t stand with my arm, guys, and my legs are just fine.” She huffed. “But you’re not going to believe this.”
The aggrieved paramedic said, “I’m sorry, Violet, I really am.”
She knew the paramedic, too? Did anyone in or near Clearbrook not know Violet?
The young EMT turned to Hogan. “You did a great job wrapping it, but it needs to be properly cleaned and she’s going to need a few stitches.”
Hogan said, “Another trip to the hospital isn’t so bad.”
She dropped her forehead to his sternum. “I’m cursed.”
“You’ve got us,” Colt said. “I hope that doesn’t seem cursed.”
She lifted her head and gave him a beautiful, tender smile. “No, that makes me feel like the luckiest gal alive.” Cradling her wrapped arm, she asked, “Would you two very special guys mind giving me a ride? No way am I going by ambulance, but this time I’m not sure I’m up to driving.”
Now that Violet was on her feet and joking, Colt further recovered. “Let me wash up real fast. I’ll be right back.”
Incredibly proud, Hogan kissed Violet’s forehead and said, “He adores you.”
“It’s mutual.”
Brooklin came over to them, Nathan at her side. She kept her head bowed, her hands clenched together in front of her. “Are you okay, Violet?”
“Sure. I just got my arm in the way of that stupid bouncing bullet. Though I guess, since it ricocheted, better my arm than my head, huh?”
Hogan groaned. “Don’t even joke.”
She frowned at Hogan. “I still think this is your fault. Until you came into my life, I was never sick, never hurt, never ever wimpy.”
Brooklin stiffened even more. “No, it’s my fault. If I hadn’t—”
“What?” Violet challenged. “Saved a girl from her abusive father? If you weren’t the type of person to do that, I wouldn’t want you as a friend.”
Nathan smiled. “Exactly.”
“But to bring so much trouble here...”
“That butthead brought the trouble,” Violet said, glaring at Russell as the paramedics worked on his bludgeoned face. Then she looked at Hogan’s knuckles. “Ouch.”
“Worth it,” he said, carefully hugging her close to his side and feeling the fury all over again.
Nathan gave one short shake of his head. “It’s going to be tough to explain how he got annihilated, but either way, he’s history.”
Brooklin said, “In all the time I knew him, Russell never showed any violent tendencies. He was studious, understated, very much a stereotypical teacher.”
“He lost his grip,” Nathan said. “It happens. But it’s not your fault. Not any of it.”
“He made terrible choices,” Violet added, “and that cost him everything. The weak always find a way to deflect to others. You don’t owe anyone an apology for that. Definitely not me.”
“Agreed,” Hogan said.
Brooklin swiped at the tears in her eyes. “Thank you. All of you.” With a broken, tearful laugh, she said, “Coming to Clearbrook is the smartest thing I’ve ever done.”
“True.” Nathan pressed a kiss to her forehead, then spoke to Violet and Hogan. “I wish we could go to the hospital with you, but I’ve got to clean up this mess, and I don’t want Brooklin out of my sight.”
“Understandable.” Hogan waited until Colt had rejoined them. “We’ll take good care of her. Tomorrow, though, I want an update on what’s happening.”
“First thing,” Nathan agreed, “and I’ll want an update on Violet anyway.”
In the car, Hogan drove and Colt sat in the back seat with Violet, doing what he could to pamper her.
They had to get through tonight, but suddenly the future looked rich with promise.
19
THE NEED TO assure himself that everyone was okay drew Hogan again and again to the hallway. He peered into his bedroom to see Violet asleep in his bed. She was on her back, her bandaged arm resting over her stomach.
What if that bullet had caused more damage? Just as he’d been doing all morning, he forced aside the god-awful fear with deep breaths... And the sight of her—her hair fanned out everywhere, and from the bottom of the sheet, one small foot showed.
She would never want Colt to know, but once they’d been tucked into the bed, she’d cried. Restrained, nearly silent tears of pure emotion. She, too, understood just how badly things could have gone.
Never again would Hogan waste time on regretting his past. Now he was only looking forward to a beautiful future.
Next he looked in Colt’s room. His son sprawled on his stomach, long limbs everywhere. Hogan knew he had to be exhausted, but he’d set his alarm to wake him early so he could spend some time with Charish.
Hogan wanted to get to know the girl better. He had a feeling she’d factored into Colt’s decision on a local college, or at the very least, she’d made that decision easier.
He also wanted to tell Colt that he truly had choices now. Not only would he have the bonus cash flow from his accounting work, he and Violet would be splitting expenses.
By admitting his love for her, life had gotten easier.
When Diesel lifted his head, Hogan patted his thigh, calling the dog to him.
As if aware that Colt needed his sleep, Diesel picked his way carefully from the bed, joining Hogan with a wagging tail.
Life was good. This, Hogan thought, this was what he wanted.
The people he loved all together.
He and Diesel walked out to the front yard. Carrying a steaming cup of coffee and wearing only jeans, Hogan sat on the top step of his porch and allowed Diesel to take his time finding just the right grassy spot.
Morning sunshine bathed his face. A squirrel chattered. Birds sat atop the tree branches.
Life was good.
He couldn’t help but think of Violet and what she meant to him. Because he wasn’t a man to do things lightly, he wanted it all. Yes, her in his house, in his bed. But he also wanted his ring on her finger. He wanted the vows.
The commitment.
He knew now that he’d been seeing women differently, that he’d looked for the possible deceit—something he’d never thought about until Meg had upended his world.
Then he’d moved to Clearbrook, and there was his sister-in-law, Honor, one of the sweetest women he’d ever known, perfect for his brother.
And Lexie, who drove Sullivan nuts with her shenanigans—yet she was as caring and honorable as anyone he knew.
There was Kristy, flighty, sometimes silly, but overall a nice girl just making her way in the world.
And Joni, a definite user—as some people were, male and female.
He didn’t like admitting that he’d been a shallow ass, but he had to admit that despite all the evidence, he’d continued to view women through the same lens.
Until Violet shook him out of that absurd mind-set. She was all the things he admired in other women, plus things the others never could be, because her qualities complemented his own and vice versa.
He was more with her, better, happier. Literally, just more.
“Any coffee left inside?”
He glanced to where h
is brother cut across the yard. Diesel ran to greet Jason, so Hogan stood. “I’ll get a cup.”
“Sullivan’s on his way over, too. Might as well grab him one.”
Hogan shielded his eyes from the sun and found Sullivan crossing the street.
“Got it. Be right back.” As quietly as possible, he poured coffee into two cups, then made a fresh pot in case Violet woke up and wanted any.
When he turned, he almost ran into Colt. His son wore shorts and nothing else, and he made a beeline for the fridge and the orange juice.
“You sure you don’t want to catch a little more sleep?”
“I’m good,” Colt said around a wide yawn. He nodded at the tray Hogan held. “We have company?”
“Jason and Sullivan.”
Colt nodded and, carrying a tall glass of juice, led the way back out.
When they stepped to the porch, they found Nathan just pulling into the driveway.
Diesel abandoned Jason and loped over to Colt, practically crawling into his lap, forcing Colt to hold the juice high as he laughed.
“Coffee?” Hogan asked Nathan while handing a cup to Jason and Sullivan.
“No, thanks. I finished a pot before I left.” He rubbed his tired eyes. “How’s Violet?”
“She’s still sleeping.” Hogan sat on the top step again. “If you ask her, she’ll tell you she’s fine. And she is. She had some pain last night, but mostly it was the aftermath of everything that made it hard for her to sleep.”
“Having an asshole point a gun at you would do that,” Jason said.
Hogan had called his brother from the hospital last night to fill him in, since he was bound to notice that neither Colt nor Hogan had made it home. “Brooklin?” he asked.
“Still feeling guilty, but she’ll realize soon that she has no reason.”
Sullivan sat below Colt and became the recipient of Diesel’s affection. He stroked him idly while he sipped his coffee. “You have the guy locked up?” he asked Nathan.
“He’s not going anywhere.”
Jason gave a grim smile. “I heard Hogan worked him over.”
“And then some,” Nathan admitted. “Broke his nose and loosened a tooth, but he’ll survive.”
With a touch of awe, Colt said, “I’ve never seen Dad go at anyone like that.”
“Your dad was a hard-ass in his youth.” Jason lifted his coffee cup in a salute. “Sounds like it paid off last night.”
Hogan shook his head. Before moving to Clearbrook, it might have seemed odd to sit outside an hour past dawn holding council with three other men, his son and his dog. Now it just felt comfortable.
These crazy people had become the best of family and friends. For a while there, trust had seemed elusive. But Hogan trusted each of them, so he admitted, “Violet coped by focusing on the diner—if she’ll have to stay closed, the damage done. She fell asleep fretting about it.” Hogan pictured the mess in his mind. The overturned boxes and scattered cans, the bullet hole in the wall, the blood—her blood.
“Far as the sheriff’s department is concerned, she can open today as usual,” Nathan said. “We already got everything we needed.”
“I’ll head over there first thing,” Jason said, “so you can stay with her. I’ll patch and paint the wall, no problem.”
Sullivan said, “I have a few hours yet, so I’ll help clean up.”
Nathan nodded. “Count me in if you need anything.”
“Well, as to that...” Hogan hoped they’d get on board. “We’d planned to open the new space next week. I have an idea on how to really get things swinging again.” With all the guys waiting, he cleared his throat. “You know how that goofy column in the Trickle kept focusing on us?”
“Mainly you two,” Sullivan said, referencing him and Nathan. “They’re after the single guys.”
Hogan shook his head. “I’ve been considering a big event to open the upstairs, sort of the requested ‘ladies’ night’ that was mentioned.”
“Love it,” Nathan said, jumping ahead before Hogan could finish explaining. “You want the band there? We could easily set up outside.”
“I do,” Hogan said. “But more than that, I want us to perform.”
Blank faces stared back at him.
Finally, Jason repeated, “Perform?”
“Cowboy hats, some line dancing. We’ll give the ladies a real show, since that’s what they’ve been asking for—”
“Hell no.”
“Forget it.”
He stared at Jason and Sullivan. Colt, he noticed, was still grinning, and Nathan just seemed to be giving it some thought. “You know it’d be a big hit.”
“Nope.”
Lexie, who showed up without anyone realizing it, hugged up to Sullivan’s arm. Her short, pale blond hair was flattened on one side, proving she’d come straight from bed and hadn’t taken the time to primp first. “You can count on Sullivan. He’ll do it.”
Horrified, Sullivan said, “No, I won’t.”
Her smile never slipped. “He’s in.”
“I’m not!”
“You have to. Violet needs you.” She batted her eyelashes at him, stroked his chest and said, “And I really want to see it.”
Sullivan stared at her a second more, then gave in. “Shit.”
Hogan laughed. One down. He turned to his brother. “Jason?”
“You know I don’t dance.”
“It’s line dancing,” Honor said from behind him.
Jason jumped. “When did you get up?”
Barefoot, dressed in one of Jason’s T-shirts and her shorts, her honey-colored hair mussed, she said, “When Lexie called me and said you guys were all congregated out here.”
Jason slanted a look at Lexie.
“It’s convenient,” Lexie said, “living across the street from each other.”
Honor covered her mouth as she yawned, then leaned against Jason. “Line dancing isn’t really dancing. You guys could keep it simple—but sexy.”
Jason groaned. “I don’t do ‘sexy,’ damn it.”
“Is that a joke?” She stared up at him and whispered, “You do sexy better than anyone.”
“Hell.”
Knowing she’d gotten her way, Honor hugged him.
Having the women show up had made it much easier to convince the guys, Hogan thought. Too bad Brooklin wasn’t around. “Nathan?”
“Hell, I love the idea. I’m not shy. And the band will totally be on board. I even know the song we should use.”
Colt, who hadn’t said much, asked, “Am I invited to this dance-off?”
Hogan further messed his son’s sleep-rumpled hair. “You’re going to be our lead, kiddo. You’ll get the younger crowd there.” Then he turned to everyone. “It has to be a surprise. I don’t want Violet to know about it. And it has to be a simple presentation, because we’re opening the upstairs next week. We’ll have to advertise by word of mouth. Think we can manage that?”
The women, Nathan and Colt gave a resounding yes.
The men grumbled, with a lot of attitude, that they’d do their best.
By now, Violet knew he wasn’t concerned with keeping their relationship private. After the show, she, as well as everyone in Clearbrook, would know that she meant the world to him.
All in all, Hogan could hardly wait.
* * *
Violet woke slowly, her head aching, her body heavy. When she started to stretch, pain lanced into her arm and everything came crashing back. She’d been shot.
She gasped as she opened her eyes. At first disoriented, she looked around and remembered that she wasn’t in her own bed.
She wasn’t home alone.
Hogan had not only insisted on her staying over, he’d insisted on
her sharing his bed. Colt had been in complete agreement.
She looked down at her arm. It ached from wrist to shoulder, and around the stark white wrapping she saw bruising spreading out. She hadn’t actually been shot, not directly. But the bullet, which had ricocheted off cans, cut through her arm, then embedded itself into the wall, still caused enough damage.
Moving her arm more cautiously now, she placed her hand on Hogan’s side of the bed and found it cool to the touch. Sitting up, she looked around at his sparse but tidy furnishings.
Where was he?
She used the bathroom, brushed her teeth, frowned at her bedraggled appearance and then went looking for Hogan. She found him at his desk, but the second he noticed her, he closed his laptop and stood.
“How do you feel?”
“Hungover, even though I didn’t have a drop to drink.”
He drew her in for a warm kiss and a gentle hug. “You look beautiful.”
She snorted. “Your bathroom has a mirror, you know.”
He only smiled. “Coffee?”
“Please.” As she looked, she asked, “Where’s Colt and Diesel?”
“Colt took the dog with him when he left to meet Charish before work.”
“Before work,” she repeated, sinking down into a kitchen chair. “We’ll be able to open today?”
“Nathan stopped by. He said it won’t be a problem. Jason and Sullivan are headed over there now to fix the wall where the bullet hit and...clean up.”
Violet shuddered. They were cleaning up blood. “I should do that, not them.”
“Well, here’s the thing.” He set the coffee in front of her and pulled out a chair, turning it to face her. “We all agreed that you needed a couple of days off.”
The coffee tasted delicious and cut through some of the cobwebs. “We who?”
“Everyone. Nathan and Brooklin, Jason and Honor, Sullivan and Lexie, and Colt and me.” He gently cradled her hand in both of his. “I know you’re tough as nails, Violet. So does everyone else. You don’t need to prove anything to anyone.”
“I wasn’t trying to.” Was she? Sure, it had taken years to prove herself, but no one had stood in her way. Mostly she’d been proving her worth to herself.