I kept my eyes focused on the stars, but I was mesmerized by the sincerity in his voice and the comfort of his touch. “I love it.”
Mr. White clears his throat, snapping me out of the sweet memory and back to this bullshit reality. Time has changed everything.
I can’t look at him as the front door closes and Hunter walks out with his little niece in his arms.
I feel so guilty. I don’t even know what for! I’m not seeing either Hunter or Slade.
I turn around and start cleaning the marble cutting board. There’s a bit of icing on it left over from the cookies that needs to be scraped off before it hardens.
“Can I get you anything else while you’re in here?” I ask.
I don’t turn around. I’m focused on the mess I’ve made, and just trying to clean it up. I feel like I’ve had enough of Mr. White and enough of these games.
I need him though. I need that fucking loan. I have too much credit card debt and I’ve been denied so many times it’s not funny. He’s my last hope. I fucking hate it.
“You know it doesn’t look good on my family name for you to be talking to that young man,” Mr. White says, in a lowered voice that forces me to turn around and stare him down.
“I’m sorry?”
I give him a look that lets him know I’m pissed off. I may feel bad about how everything’s progressing, and the fact that I’m just not into Slade like I probably should be.
But I am not going to let him accuse me of anything. Or talk down about Hunter.
“Slade’s a good man, isn’t he?” he asks me.
I grab the small towel on the counter and wipe down my hands. My brows are pinched and no matter how hard I try, I can’t soften them. My breath is caught in my chest. I feel stuck.
“He is,” I answer simply.
There’s certainly nothing wrong with him. Even if there was, I’m not going to be rude.
“He deserves a good woman.” My skin prickles with insecurity as I stare back at Mr. White. “I understand you and Mr. Graves had a little thing going on a few years ago, but Slade assured me that it was just a mistake.”
My heart hammers in my chest. How the hell did I fall into this conversation? It’s been years since anyone has had the nerve to bring that up to me. Let alone a grown man.
“I fail to see what you’re getting at, Mr. White,” I say. I keep a straight face, daring him to accuse me of something, or anything or whatever the hell he’s getting at. My hands feel numb and I’m sick to my stomach, but I refuse to back down.
“I just want to make sure we’re on the same page, Miss Shaw.”
“And what page is that?” I ask in an even voice that makes me feel proud.
Inside I’m breaking down, but at least I look calm and strong on the surface.
“That the loan you need isn’t supported by the money the business is bringing in.”
My lips turn down instantly into a pathetic frown and my heart stops beating. Tears threaten to prick my eyes, but I hold them back.
Fuck him. I won’t let him see me cry.
He looks down and picks at his fingernail before looking back at me.
“Of course, I always make an exception for the people my son is fond of.”
I feel numb. I don’t know how to respond.
“I’m sure we’ll work something out,” he says, smiling that creepy smile. “Anyway…”
He takes the tray of croissants, and leaves the store. The door chimes on his way out.
Although I’m looking at the counter, trying to hold back everything threatening to come up, I swear I see his eyes roaming my body.
I’ve never felt so violated in my life. I don’t know what to do or say. I feel weak and helpless, but more than that, I’m angry.
I can’t stand the men in this damn town. They can all go screw themselves.
Chapter 8
Hunter
I slide a hand over the fender of the souped-up, cherry red ’67 Corvette. The metal’s cold and smooth and feels just right. A small grin plays at my lips. I can’t help it. Cars were my one pleasure back on base. Jared just pulled the dusty cover off it, showing me the car as it stands in his garage.
“Man, this is a sexy hunk of steel,” I say.
Jared nods, drinking from his can of Miller Lite. “Yeah. My dad and I finished the outside, but not the inside.”
“You mean you can’t start it?” I say, admiring the hand-tooled leather seats.
“Yeah. You know, Dad passed away two years ago, but we stopped working on the car about five years ago.”
“Mind if I pop the hood?” I ask, looking at Jared. “I picked up a thing or two in the Navy, working in the mechanic’s shop. I did that for my first two years, on my downtime during BUD/S training.”
“Sure, sure,” Jared says, waving a hand. “Go ahead, Mr. Navy SEAL.”
I smirk at him and open the driver’s side door to pop the hood. When I get a look at the engine, I see that the distributor is badly damaged, the alternator’s busted and in need of replacement, and everything needs a good dusting.
“I think this is fixable, if you can find the parts,” I tell Jared.
“Really?” he says, looking surprised.
“Yeah. I mean, you’ll probably have to order parts online, and they might be a couple grand, because the car’s so old… but we could get it running.”
“No shit,” he says, shaking his head in disbelief. “I just kept it because it seemed like a waste to throw it away. Little did I know, my best friend went to war and came back a mechanic. You should open a shop, man.”
I glance at him, expecting him to be teasing, but he’s serious. I brush off my hands and close the hood. He adds, “We could use a good one.”
“I don’t know,” I say and shrug. “I do have to do something…”
“Knock knock!” says Krissy, Jared’s wife. She’s way more beautiful than Jared, slim and platinum blonde. He’s a lucky bastard. “I just came out to see if you were staying for dinner, Hunter.”
“I can’t,” I say, shaking my head. “Thanks, though.”
“Well, dinner’s almost ready,” she says, looking pointedly at Jared. “Nice to see you, Hunter.”
She leaves with a swish, making me smile.
Vi would get along with her, I think to myself. Jared started seeing Krissy right before I ended things with Vi. I look down and wipe my hands on my jeans. The memory makes me tense.
“Alright, I’m gonna walk home,” I say, bumping Jared on the shoulder. “See you later.”
Jared smiles. “See you.”
I head outside into the early evening air. I can feel the hint of fall in the air, almost cold. I start walking, intending to make it home, but I keep thinking about Violet.
Mostly about her parting words about seeing her later.
I could swing by now, but she’s probably closed. I didn’t specify her shop though, maybe I could swing by her house. Something tells me that wouldn’t go over as well though. Like the last time I stopped by.
I stand in front of my parents' house and look over to hers. She didn’t want to see me the other day, but I told her I’d swing by. I cluck my tongue and wonder if I’ll be pushing my luck or not. Fuck, I’ve always been pushing my luck with Vi. That thought gets my legs moving. I look both ways and jog across the narrow street and onto their gravel driveway.
She may not wanna talk right now, but she did the other day. And I sure as hell wanna talk to her.
I jog up the three stairs and hold my fist up to the door.
I stand there for a second, then blow out a breath.
Vi belongs with me, not with that asshole Slade, and not anyone else. She’s mine. I’m more sure of it than I’ve ever been of anything in my life.
I’ll do whatever I have to do to get her back. I know she wants me, I just have to win her over.
I knock three times, heart beating hard in my chest. I hear someone coming to the door, but the footsteps don’t sound like
Vi, it’s more of a shuffle than anything else.
When the door opens, it’s Mrs. Shaw, Violet’s mother. She’s wrapped in so many layers of shawls, she looks like she’s gotta be burning up. She blinks at me from behind oversized glasses. The years haven’t been kind to her. I wasn’t expecting her to answer. It takes me aback, and my confidence is ripped out from under me.
“Hunter,” she says suspiciously. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Sorry, Mrs. Shaw. I was hoping to find Vi.” I feel like I did five years ago, almost six. The first time I came up these steps to ask Vi on a date. My palms were sweaty and I was nervous as hell. Her father answered then. At least it’s not him at the door now.
Her eyebrows lift. “She lives down the street, above her bakery.”
“Ah. Well… thanks,” I say.
“You know it’s not a nice thing to come back here and try to get between two people,” Mrs. Shaw says as I turn my shoulder to walk away.
I turn slowly back to her and look her in the eyes as I say, “I’m not sure what you mean. There’s no two people to get between.” I know what she’s getting at, but I’d rather her be upfront with it. Everyone in this town likes to skirt around issues. I’m more of a head-on kinda guy. “If you’re talking about Violet and Slade, you’re mistaken. As far as I know, they aren’t a couple.”
She frowns at me, but holds my gaze as her eyes narrow. “I always liked you, Hunter. You were good people, your whole family is. But what you did hurt my baby girl.”
It’s hard looking her in her eyes as they glaze over with tears. Fuck, it reminds me of the day I broke Vi’s heart. I take it though. I’m gonna have to make it up to both of them then, and I will. I open my mouth to apologize, but she goes in for another kill shot.
“I liked you more than I ever liked Slade, but at least he has good intentions, marriage intentions.” That pisses me off. It takes a lot of restraint not to show it.
“Slade’s not gonna marry your daughter. And if he did, she wouldn’t be happy.” The thought of her with a ring on her finger other than one I give her makes adrenaline spike in my blood. “What good is a marriage if Vi’s going to spend the whole time belittled and with someone she doesn’t want to be with?”
“She can be with whoever she wants-”
“Well, she doesn’t want Slade, and I’m going to make damn sure she wants me. I’ll make it up to her, and I’ll make sure she’s happy.” I turn to walk down the steps, but I add, looking over my shoulder, “I’ll make damn sure I do right by her.”
Chapter 9
Violet
The gravel of my parents' driveway crunches beneath my feet as I get out of my car. I heft the grocery bags, full of the supplies to make a sheet cake. I spot my mama on the front porch, sitting in a rocking chair beneath a pile of blankets.
“Hey,” I say, stopping when I’m in front of her. “I brought by some day-old bread for your bird feeders.”
“Well, sit down for a minute, won’t you?” my mama says, pulling up the blankets around her chest.
“Sure,” I answer, sitting down on the chair and setting my bags down. I run my fingers over the worn cushion beside me. “Are you cold?”
“One of the many blessings of poor circulation,” my mama jokes. “But enough about me. I want to hear about you. How are things at the bakery?”
“Good,” I say, dropping my eyes and picking at a thread on the cushion. “You know.”
“You said something on the phone yesterday about one of the ovens not working,” she says, frowning.
“Yeah. It’s a little hard to keep up with the school’s catering orders without the second oven,” I admit. “It’s okay, though. I’ve been bringing some of the orders home upstairs and doing them there. It’s not too bad, but there’s not much space.”
“Oh, are you going to do some baking here, then?”
I bite my lip. “If that’s okay with you. The oven being broken is just temporary, I’m sure.”
I’m not completely honest with her, but I think if she was in my position, she’d do the same.
“Of course,” she says, waving toward the house. “It’s your home too, you know.”
“Thanks,” I say, sighing. “I have to make a sheet cake for the elementary school today, or I could lose their contract.”
Something passes between us, a note of understanding.
“Do you need money?” she asks, her bright blue eyes shrewd.
“Oh, Mama… I can’t accept charity from you,” I say with a sigh. “You and Dad put me through college, and I hardly use the degree I got. I guess I really thought I’d get out of school and be able to get a teaching position easy.”
“If you’d moved to the city, maybe,” my mama says, closing her eyes and leaning her head against her chair.
I feel guilty. My mama and dad spent nearly everything they had to put me through school, refusing to take a cent from me. Then my mama got sick, and I just know hospital bills are mounting, forming a colossal pile somewhere inside the house.
I wish I could help, but I’m not doing any better than they are.
“Yeah, maybe so,” I muse, in answer to my mama’s statement. “Anyway, that’s life. What is it they say? ‘We plan, God laughs’.”
My mama opens her eyes and smiles.
“That’s right. I meant to ask, how are things with you and Slade?”
I wrinkle my nose. “Okay.”
She chuckles. “Just okay?”
“Yeah. Just… okay. I don’t know.”
My mama pushes the blankets off of one arm and puts her hand in mine. I’m surprised at how cool her hand is, like she hasn’t been under the pile of blankets for an hour.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” she says, giving my hand a squeeze. “You’ll find the man of your dreams. You never know, you may have already met him.”
My eyes fill with tears at the sage advice she’s giving me. I squeeze her hand in return, then clear my throat.
“I should go inside and start baking,” I say, rising from the chair.
“Okay, honey.”
I kiss her on the top of her head as she buries herself in blankets again.
“I’ll bring you a spoonful of frosting,” I promise.
“Mmmhmm,” she says, closing her eyes again. “My favorite.”
I blow out a breath as I pick up my grocery bags and head inside. I unpack the baking supplies, thinking about what my mama said.
You may have already met him, she said.
That makes me think of Hunter, of his smile and his strong arms. Try as I might, I can’t think of anyone else.
I sigh and push the thought away, focusing on my cake batter.
Chapter 10
Hunter
I hate waiting to talk to Vi. I’ve been by her place at the bakery twice now, and she wasn’t there either time. Last night I waited there for hours. She never showed, and I was pissed. If I’m honest with myself, I was worried, too.
She had to have been staying somewhere else and the thought that she was with Slade is a real possibility. When I finally dragged my ass back home, I saw her car in her parents' driveway. I almost stormed over there, but I stopped myself, thinking I should wait till it wasn’t the middle of the night and I wasn’t making an ass of myself, acting on jealousy.
This morning she wasn’t there and she wasn’t at the bakery either. The note said she was doing deliveries. I’ve been gone for years, and now that I’m back I can’t get one fucking minute with her. Figures.
My pops drops the wrench on the floor of the garage with a loud bang, startling me from my thoughts. He’s digging through his old toolbox taking an inventory of what he’s got.
“Careful, old man,” I joke with him. He looks up at me with a raised brow before bending over with a loud sigh and picking it up.
“Careful yourself, son,” he says as he sets the wrench down on the steel bench.
“So what’d ya think?” I walk over to him and lea
n against the steel counter, looking at the old junk of a VW buggy in the garage. It was supposed to be my sister’s car, but we never got around to fixing it. I brace my hands on the bench and look over to him as I say, “I could be a mechanic, I think.” Ever since Jared planted the seed, the idea has been growing and giving me an outlet to focus on. I think I’d fucking love it.
“Sure you could,” he says, but he doesn’t look me in the eyes as he adds, “It’ll cost a pretty penny to get it up and running though.”
I nod my head; I know it will, but I’ve got the cash flow to get it started. I never really spent a dime in the Navy. I didn’t have to. So I’ve got enough to get it started. I’ve already looked into it. I’ve got more than enough.
“I’m not sure the bank is gonna go out on a limb for you without you having any income right now, but-”
I cut my pops off right there. “I don’t need the Whites' money for this.” My voice is louder than it should be. I look past him and stare at the tools hanging from the pegboard on the back wall. “It’s not a matter of getting money.”
My words still come out a little harsher than I mean for them to. I push off the bench and stalk to the buggy to calm my ass down. Pops doesn’t need my anger. No one does. I just don’t like seeing Slade’s hands on my girl. I don’t like the way his father talked to her either. Vi doesn’t deserve that, she’s better than both of them. The Whites can go fuck themselves.
“Something wrong with the Whites?” Pops asks me as he closes the toolbox and leans against the buggy, eyeing me like he doesn’t know what’s going on.
“I don’t care for either of them, Slade or his father, to be honest.” I turn my head to look him in the eyes. “I don’t like Slade and Violet together.”
“You’re wound up over a girl you have no claim to.” It pisses me off that he has the balls to say that, but then he keeps going, “And to make matters worse, you’re giving that girl a bad name.”
Promise Me: A Second Chance Romance Page 6