The three of us watch as Ford leaves with our mother. None of us says good-bye, but Kelly waves.
Parker shuts the door. We all sort of shuffle into the living room and fall onto the couch. He clicks on the television, and I keep Kelly in my lap. She’s snuggled against me, and not going anywhere anytime soon.
“Gladiator okay with you?” Parker asks, not really looking for my approval. He just wants things the way they were. Like me.
“Yeah, I’ll cover up the bug’s eyes at the bad parts.”
“I’ll try to mute the bad words.” He fiddles with the remote. “You want to text Rae and see if she—”
“We’ll see her Sunday, at her nana’s house.”
He nods, not bothering to argue. He was only asking to be nice anyway.
Kelly relaxes against me, her oh-my-god-o’clock waking up time finally catching up to her. I smooth my hand down her hair and back. She lets out a little sigh, her mouth parting as she drools on my shirt.
Despite the movie playing, a silence settles in the room, neither uncomfortable nor uncomfortable. It’s just there. This is how it’s always been with us Morgan kids—alone in a silent house.
Alone but for each other, even on Christmas.
*** *** ***
Violet
I didn’t get to have lunch with Cole, Parker, and Kelly the next day. My mom went into labor on Christmas Day, and I got the phone call right after Cole dropped me off at my nana’s house. Later that evening, after I’d booked a flight for two—Nana and me—to Nashville, I texted Cole the news and my plans. He hadn’t seemed too upset at not being included.
“Here you go.” My momma passes the baby to me, all bundled up in a blue blanket. I kiss his sweet head and breathe in his baby scent.
“Samuel Davis Givens was born last night at exactly 9:59 PM, healthy and full of himself,” my dad proudly says.
My nana smiles, waiting her turn to hold my brother. “Looks just like you, Davis, and your daddy would be proud to know you named that baby boy after him.”
“He’s beautiful,” I manage to say on a swallow. “He’s perfect.” This time, my voice breaks over the word. I feel their gazes on me, but I smile. Tears run down my face.
“Oh no. Don’t cry, Violet.” My momma rushes to me, hugging me and kissing my cheek. “Give Sam to your Nana and let me hold you.”
“These are happy tears, Momma. Not sad ones.” Mostly I’m telling the truth, but the pain I thought I’d feel… it’s not a deep as it would have been, without Cole in my life.
My dad hugs the three us and my brother opens his eye, squinting like a little old man at me.
“This’s your big sister, Violet,” he says.
“And I love you very much,” I whisper and kiss his sweet head. “No other little boy will have a big sister that loves him as much as I do you.”
My mom takes Sam and my dad pulls me into his arms. I hear Nana and my mom talking in soft tones to each other and my baby brother, but that’s fine with me.
It’s the comfort of a father I need right now, not my mother, who already smells like motherhood.
“I’m proud of you.”
Leaning back in his arms, I look at him. “Even after all’s that happened. Even though I chose Cole?”
“Well,” he says, “we all can’t be perfect.”
I laugh, he joins in, and then I let go.
We move to sit in large chairs on either side of a big window. The post-birth room has everything we could need, including snacks, a small kitchenette, and a flat-screen television. Plenty of room for visitors and the new parents.
“Speaking of Cole. Where is he?” she asks, settling back into bed.
“He had to work.” Not a complete lie. The bar wasn’t open, but would be tomorrow, and he did need to check on it every day, even on holidays.
“A strong work ethic is a good quality to have,” my dad says.
“He has tons of good qualities.”
My dad glances at my mom and Nana, and then at me. “You’re allowed to bring him around, Violet. I won’t be a butthole to him.”
I slap my hand over my mouth, wanting to giggle. My parents never cuss, never drink, and never watch anything over a PG-13 rating, so when they start using substitution words, I want to die laughing.
But I don’t, because I respect them too much to make fun. And I’m almost just as bad.
“Stop laughing at me, Violet Rae Givens,” he says with a mock frown.
I shake my head. “I’m not laughing.” My words are muffled by my palm.
“This is nice,” she says with a smile. Sam is in her arms, wrapped up tight in his little blue blanket.
“This is how it should be,” he points out. “The Givens family sticks together—happy or sad.”
I lower my hand and exhale. “And we’re not afraid to let in someone new,” I say solemnly.
My mother smiles at me. “That’s the very best part, I think, letting in someone new.”
Thinking about how Cole’s been acting lately, makes my heart skip a beat.
“I don’t know… sometimes, it’s the scariest,” Nana says and I nod my head in agreement.
Chapter Ten
Violet
It’s New Year’s Eve, and I’m celebrating with Cole at The Double Deuce. Only it’s a private party, completely made up of his friends and their dates instead of the customer that could have come (and paid for a cover charge and drinks) from the surrounding area.
And it’s all my fault.
Instead of things getting better with Cole since Christmas, it’s gotten worse. It’s like a flipped switched between the time he dropped me off at my nana’s and when I came back from visiting my parents. He’s moodier than ever, and I’m constantly weighing my words, wondering if what I have to say or want to do will set off our next fight.
The headlines have gotten worse, too. The lies, the flat-out name-calling, and speculation about my possible future involvement with Jaxon—is something that Cole’s having a hard time ignoring.
Last week, they ran a story about his mom, about who her parents are and who Cole’s dad actually is. Everyone knows, and no one will leave him alone about it.
The connection with Jaxon, along with Crystal selling him, has weirdly not made any headlines. I know this has to be Everett’s doing. To be sure he has all his I’s dotted and all his T’s crossed. Plus, he and Kathy have always been open about their son being adopted.
But none of that matters about Jaxon because Cole’s barely speaking to me, and if he hadn’t already promised to take me to a real party, with normal people, I doubt we’d be here tonight.
I’d be at home, without him, like usual.
I stir the ice in my drink, with a green novelty straw. Lacey brought straws that were shaped like cupcakes at the top, for the girls, but Beau snagged one, and in the past few minutes has gotten all lascivious with his.
“Damn, this cupcake is good,” he says, sliding his tongue down the center. His date, some random chick that apparently no one has ever met before, looks longingly at the straw.
I shudder, thinking that his tongue has probably been on Callie, whose tongue has been on Jaxon.
Maybe I ought to stop thinking about that right now.
Lacey taps her fingers on the table; the tips of her fingernails are glittery. Earlier today, we had our monthly mani/pedi. For the most part, the owner leaves us alone except to do our nails.
Sometimes though, her curiosity gets the better of her, and she starts asking about all the country music stars that played at the Grand Ole Opry. Most of them are dead and I’ve personally met fewer than half, but I know just enough to make her smile.
If the owner’s smiling, then she’s not prying into my personal life.
Besides, I like to think George Jones would forgive me for telling a teeny, tiny lie about eating at The Cheesecake Factory with him.
“This is my favorite song,” Lacey says, her eyes on the dance floor.
&nb
sp; Parker’s out there, with his date, along with his BFF, West, and his date, a girl named McKenzie. They’re staring into each other’s eyes like no one else is around. And by they, I mean West and McKenzie, not Parker.
Although, according to Cole, Parker and West have a bromance like no other. But I’m pretty sure that he and Wyatt give them a run for their money.
“Why don’t you dance, then?”
“Because Wyatt is playing darts with Cole, and I don’t want to interrupt his game.”
Wyatt glances over his glass of beer, checking on Lacey. I grin. “I’m pretty sure he would be okay with it.”
She shakes her head, pretty auburn hair cascading over one shoulder. “Not anymore.”
My grin falls. “Why is that?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Tanaka said they’ll fire me if I keep seeing him.”
“But that’s not right.”
Lacey stares at me, with sad eyes that make me want to hug her, but I won’t. She’s not a big fan of touching, unless she’s the one to initiate it, and I always keep that knowledge tucked away. “For him it is. Wyatt deserves to be with a woman who wants to be a doctor or lawyer, not some small-town veterinarian’s assistant with no other ambition in life.”
“Is that what they said to you?”
“His momma did.” She looks down, drawing a circle on the table. “She’s right. I would hold him back.”
“But you love Wyatt.”
Her head jerks up, auburn bangs falling in her eyes. “Don’t tell him what I told you. Promise me, okay, because I was supposed to keep it a secret. But you’re my best friend and best friends don’t keep secrets, right?”
I look up at the ceiling, my heart breaking for Lacey, then back at her. “I thought Wyatt was your best friend, too.”
“Not anymore.” She goes back to drawing a circle. “Things changed once we kissed. Plus, he’s not speaking to me now.”
“Lacey,” I say softly.
“Yes?”
“Would it be all right to hug you?” Dear God, please let her say yes. This girl needs a hug, and Wyatt’s momma needs to keep her nose out of their relationship.
She looks at me out of the corner of her eye. A tear splashes on her cheek. “Yes.”
I hug her, tight and fierce, like she needs, like I need, but there’s no one to give me one. I’m afraid to complain to my parents about what’s going on, because I’m pretty sure they’d be disappointed in me.
And I can’t complain to Nana because she’s off visiting her sister down in Florence, South Carolina. I’d like to think that she’d understand. That she’d hug me and tell me Cole would come around, that he’s not doing the very thing I accused him of doing less than two weeks ago.
Cole’s gaze catches mine, his sexy lips smashing together. He strides toward us, and I let Lacey go. She whispers her thanks before wishing me good night, and slides off the stool, heading in the direction of the front door.
“What was that about?” he asks. Tonight he’s dressed in dark jeans and a graphic t-shirt that has The Double Deuce’s logo printed on it. The ear gauges are new, a Christmas present from me, made of onyx. He likes them but I don’t share how much they cost. I mean, I wouldn’t anyway, but money is yet another ocean forming in this new space between us.
“Lacey’s sad, is all.”
Cole takes a drink of his beer and sets it on the table. “Maybe she shouldn’t have changed the rules on Wyatt without talking to him first.”
“Maybe he wasn’t willing to listen.”
Dark blue eyes meet mine. His gaze rakes over me, over my face, my throat, and down my chest. It feels like he touching me, and then he is touching me, his hand on my skirt, sliding up and under the hem.
He teases me, skimming his fingers along my inner thighs, and my heart starts to beat between them. We haven’t been together in four days, because of his work schedule, but it feels like four months.
“How bad do you want me?” he asks, his head dipping forward to nuzzle at a spot below my ear.
“All the time.”
I gasp when he touches bare skin, my hips rocking forward to meet him. He takes a step forward and then another, until his hard body is flush with mine. “You’re driving me insane.”
“Why?” I let my head fall against his wide chest. He’s blocking my view of everyone and everything. When Cole touches me, he becomes everything and nothing matters.
“Because I know what you’re not wearing.” He uses his other hand to lift my chin, sealing his mouth over mine. I’m hungry for him, desperate for his taste. Without my permission, he stops kissing my mouth and nips at my jaw. “Let’s see how wet you are.”
He slides one finger inside of me, and I grab his wrist. “Someone might see.”
“Very wet,” he pronounces, ignoring my protest. But his hand doesn’t move and my entire being focuses on that one place where he’s inside of me. “And no one can see you. I think you picked this table on purpose, right in the corner and beside the bar. Worst table in the house.”
He kisses me, lazy kisses that are driving me as wild as the finger he won’t move. Then he adds another finger, and I bite him. He growls a little, but that’s all.
I want more. I want him to move, damn it.
“Oh God… please, Cole,” I pant. “Please.”
“Pretend I’m your favorite toy.”
I barely register the meaning of his words, before my face flushes hot. Then I grip his wrist harder, my fingers not even able to wrap the whole way around, and try to move him.
“Use both hands.” He pushes up my skirt, so that I’m bared to him, and I look down. My hand on his, his fingers inside of me.
Immediately, I grow wetter.
Licking my lips, I use both hands, watching as his fingers disappear and reappear. I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned on in my life. We could get caught at any moment. Anyone within a foot of us has to know what we’re doing.
He mutters a curse, one that I’ve never heard him say before. “Sit on the table. I want to taste that pussy.”
“In front of everyone?” I squeak.
What we’re doing is more than I can take as it is, but a blatant public display… I can’t. He can’t. We can’t and it has nothing to do with who either of us are.
He seems to consider it, something dark sliding in his eyes, but he shakes his head. “Course not.” Without looking around, he orders everyone to leave.
“What the hell?”
“But the ball hasn’t dropped, yet.”
“Oh is your other ball missing its buddy?”
“Screw you, Parker.”
“We can go to my place.” This invitation is issued by Beau.
“Get out,” Cole growls.
I try to pull my skirt down, but Cole glares at me and says, “No.” I bunch the material in my hand instead, praying that no one wants to fist bump Cole before they leave
“Happy New Year, party-pooper.”
“Seriously? What are you—three?”
The door slams shut, and then I hear the lock click into place.
“Happy?”
I nod, unsure of the guy standing before me.
“Get. On. The. Table.”
Glancing down at his hand, then back at him, I whisper, “Help me.”
“Pull up your legs.”
I do as he says, sending his fingers deeper. I close my eyes and moan, my hands urging him to move. “Don’t make me go anywhere.”
Suddenly, I feel the soft flick of his tongue and my eyes fly open. He’s kneeling beside me, his dark hair tickling the skin of my thighs.
As soon as I say, don’t stop, he does just that. And his fingers leave me. Empty and wanting more.
He undresses me slowly, deliberately brushing the most sensitive parts of me until I’m nude, until I’m shaking and wanting him. Only him.
“Damn, you’re beautiful.”
Then he’s unbuckling his belt, unbuttoning his pants, and before I even have time to
try to get his shirt out, he thrusts inside of me. He’s hard, huge, and relentless.
Nothing about this is playful or even romantic.
It’s erotic, dominating, and powerful.
I grab his shoulder and hold on tight, but he gently forces my hands to my sides, his hands holding me prisoner.
Involuntarily, my back arches and he takes a tight nipple in his mouth, scalding it. Scalding me. I want to touch him so badly that I don’t know what to do.
The chair’s cold on my butt, the wood digging into my back, but being pinned between it and Cole turns me on like nothing has before.
Finally, he lets me go, but only to slide his hands under my legs, placing them up and over his shoulders, opening me to him even more.
His big hands cup my hips, pulling me to the edge of the chair. He’s not saying a word, just biting his bottom lip and staring down at where we’re joined.
I’m going up in flames but dying inside. This seems so impersonal. So not the man I love, but then he touches me, pinches my nipples and my clit.
I scream his name, and he rocks faster. The chair moves with us, and his pace picks up. Furious and driving inside of me so hard that I can barely catch my breath.
“Love you,” I say, catching his gaze. “So much.”
Suddenly, he’s cursing again and pulling out of me. I barely have time to blink before he’s completely dressed. The bulge in his jeans the only indication that he was ever inside of me.
Cole’s eyes are wild, his breathing furious. I climb down from the chair, my flats still on my feet—thank God—and approach him, not caring about how nude I am in this moment.
“What’s wrong?”
“Everything,” he says. “Every. Fucking. Thing.”
“Don’t be that way,” I say, cupping him. “Let me take care of you.”
He shakes, actually shakes, and puts his hands on my upper arms. I rub my body against his, my nipples still hard from his touch and the air.
“Let me ease you,” I say, sinking to my knees. He takes off his belt and I unbutton his pants, glancing up at him when I’m done. “Okay?”
Only for You Page 7