Wrong For You (Before You Series Book 3)(11)
“I know.” Moving her chin away from his touch, she smiled, but her eyes were flat and lifeless instead of dancing with humor. She stood up and tossed the rest of her food in the trashcan next to her desk. “I’m going to get ready for the afternoon. The kids will arrive in less than an hour.”
He didn’t want her to leave and that thought screwed with his head. One part of him begged to get to know her and find out what made her sad, happy, and everything in between. The other part of him knew it could never happen. He couldn’t let her or anyone else into his life. It was better that way. He wasn’t good for any other woman, especially one as innocent and good as Violet.
Chapter Five
“Hey, where are you going?” Alec said as Violet came out her front door early Saturday morning, purple backpack strapped around both of her shoulders with double holstered water bottles peeking out of the white mesh pockets on either side.
Violet turned around, a big smile on her clean, makeup-free face, her long blonde hair scraped away from her face in a high ponytail. She wore khaki shorts and a white tank top. Damn, she was beautiful. He’d been avoiding being alone with her as much as possible this past week, trying to bury his attraction to her, but he craved her voice and her smile.
“Where does every self-respecting Montana native go on the weekends during the middle of July?” she asked, raising one of her pale blonde eyebrows.
Now that was one question he couldn’t answer. Growing up, his family was anything but normal. In his house, weekends, regardless of the month, meant trying to weed through the throngs of people passed out on the living room floor and then he spent the afternoon cleaning up beer cans, cups, and, sadly, vomit. He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
She laughed, tilting her head to the side. “Are you sure you’re from Montana? You said you were, but now I’m not so sure.”
“I can assure you I was born and raised here, but I still don’t know where you’re headed. Why don’t you come here and give me a hint?” He crooked his finger, signaling for her to come closer.
She took a couple steps toward him and cocked one of her delicate hips to the side. “I’ll give you four hints—backpack, water bottles, hiking boots, and huckleberry season. Does that jog your memory?”
“Ah. Hiking,” he answered, feeling a smile stretch the corners of his lips. Without even trying, Violet knew how to make him smile.
She laughed, a light, musical sound that complimented her lighthearted, caring personality perfectly. “Yes, hiking.” Her eyes swept his body, starting with his black faded t-shirt, his dark jeans, his black, silver-studded belt, and his heavy leather boots. “I’d ask you to join me, but I don’t think you have the right wardrobe.”
Without thinking, he tugged lightly on the end of her ponytail. Over the past week, he’d been inventing reasons to touch her. He loved the silkiness of her hair and the softness of her baby-skin. “How do you know I don’t have hiking gear?”
She tapped her finger against her mouth; a habit of hers that never failed to draw all of his attention to the sweep of her beautifully sculpted upper lip. “Just a wild guess.”
She was absolutely right. Beyond his standard issue jeans and dark t-shirts, he didn’t have many other clothes with him. He forgot to have his manager send any workout clothes, which made him even more claustrophobic and angst-ridden than usual. In LA, he ran nearly every day. He loved the feeling of the endorphins flooding his veins at the exact moment that he didn’t think he could take one more stride. Peace—that was the only word he could use to describe the feeling. Except when he played the drums, running was the only other time his mind was free from the toxic thoughts constantly circulating like a broken record through his mind. Even on tour, he never missed his daily run. “Well, you’d be right. Do you think I could hike in this?” Right now, he craved exercise, and while he wasn’t the most social guy in the world, moving like a ghost between the Foundation and Violet’s basement apartment made him feel like a hamster going in circles.
She shook her head. “No, but you’re about my brother’s size. I think I can find something that will fit you.”
“Are you sure?”
“He’ll never miss it. He has more hiking shorts and shoes than a small sporting goods store. Let me grab a pair of shorts. I think your boots and t-shirt will work.”
“I don’t know.” He didn’t feel right borrowing a stranger’s clothes, but being outside under the warm Montana sun sounded like the escape he needed from his repetitive days. Even though he grew up in Montana, he had never picked huckleberries. That was way too functional for his family.