Lumberjack Weekend(Divine Creek Ranch 21)(4)

I deserve better than this.

“Baby?” Bodie asked, drawing her back through a tunnel of hurt into the present.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Victor knew I was going to call you.”

She frowned. “Are you leaving him?”

“No, baby.”

“Why are you calling me now?”

“He knew I missed you, and he said he’d understand if I…”

Boy, how very generous of him. Wish I could understand.

Violet turned away from the shop interior so she wouldn’t be overheard. “He’d understand if you came out here to fuck me? I loved you both, Bodie, and I’m sorry he made you choose between us. I would never have done that, to either of you. Our ménage is the single biggest regret of my life. No more booty calls.”

“Baby—” The soft yearning in his voice tore out her heart.

“Every time you come out here you take another piece of my soul with you when you leave. Please…don’t call me anymore.”

Without listening to another word, she ended the call, praying for calm. Casting her blurred gaze around her workspace, she tidied the bags, the pens, the sales receipts, the drawers, and then sprayed the surface down and cleaned it, even though it was already pristine. Ever since having her disorderly housekeeping skills so painfully pointed out, she’d become more than a little compulsive about neatness. Her eyes stung when she blinked, and the tears overflowed. She’d already cried out all the tears of a broken heart many months before. Now she cried from regret for letting things go on as long as they had.

As if sensing her emotions, Tex vocalized softly and put his paws on her shoulders. He rubbed his chin against her cheek, and licked her tears, purring like a motorboat. His unconditional affection was a balm to her hurt feelings. He’d shown up on her back loading dock one day the summer before, and he’d been her shop’s guard cat ever since.

Running her palm down his back, and inhaling and exhaling slowly, she did the only thing she could do as someone approached the sales counter. She wiped her tears away and smiled as she turned to her customer and then gasped.

Joseph Hazelle, tall, gray-eyed, and a bit of a mystery to many folks in Divine, stood before her. Few beyond his close circle of friends knew he was also the owner of an exclusive BDSM club.

“Mr. Hazelle, what a wonderful surprise,” she said, automatically placing her hand in his when he reached for it. “How have you been?”

Instead of shaking her hand, he gave it a gentle squeeze.

His pause was momentary as he held her gaze, probably noting her ruined makeup, blotchy cheeks, and bloodshot eyes.

He reached out to scratch Tex under the chin. “I hope eventually you’ll use my first name. I wish some of the subs I know observed protocol as studiously as you do.” His gaze seemed to look even deeper as he said, “Are you all right?”

He stroked the top of her hand before he released it, and she surprised herself when she nodded readily. “I know I look a mess, but I’m okay. I really am. What can I do for you…Joseph?”

Joseph smiled as he parted the front of his gray suit jacket and reached into the breast pocket. “What can you do for me? You can accept my invitation.” He withdrew an eggplant-colored envelope with her name embossed on the front and placed it in her hand.

“An invitation?” She slid a finger under the rich gold seal, knowing by the weight and the texture of the heavy paper he’d spent a pretty penny to have it printed. She wasn’t sure she was up to a social occasion as she slid the equally luxurious embossed invitation from the interior.

“I’m hosting an event. I’d like you to come to it.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Joseph…”

“Are you seeing anyone in a committed relationship right now?” he asked, his brow arching ever so slightly, almost in challenge, it seemed.

“Well, no. No, I’m not, but…”

Coming from him, the question was a loaded one. Joseph owned and operated Hazelle House, which was privately located in nearby Morehead. He was also a well-reputed Dominant. They’d become friends when Grace Warner had introduced them and he’d referred Josh and Lucas Abbott to her to do the renovations on the Emporium. There was no romantic attraction between them, but they’d become friends, and he’d told her about owning the club. Something about him had earned her trust, and although she’d made it clear she wasn’t in a position to afford a membership at his club, she’d had to admit the notion of its existence had intrigued her. He’d evidently taken her at her word, if the invitation in her hand was any evidence.