Page 34 of Peach Blossom Hollow

“Of course!”

“So you believe in love.”

“That’s not… That’s not the same. It’s different from what you’re asking.” He knew she was asking about that deep romantic love she was seeking.

“How is it different?”

“You’re a real pest.”

“I know.” She nodded, her long black lashes fluttering as she blinked at him, unflappable in her dedicated persistence.

“Familial love is… You make sacrifices for family that go beyond obligation or duty. It’s different from the love I would share with my wife.” He wanted a family someday, and he assumed that would come with a whole lot of it. So why couldn’t he just say that to Violet?

“Okay, and what’s romantic love to you?”

“We’re strangers who pass each other in the dead of the night. Unseen, unnoticed.” Forgotten.

“But one day you might get noticed? By love?”

He guided her toward the store’s entrance. “I’m regretting how comfortable you’ve gotten with talking to me.”

“I know.” She gave him a sunny smile, but refused to step into the store despite him holding the door for her and making an exaggerated sweeping motion with his arm.

“So you want love, but think you can’t have it?” she asked.

Unrelenting.That was his current word to describe Violet.

“What year is your car again?”

She wouldn’t budge.

He sighed. “Fine.”

She gave a small bounce in place, aware that she’d won. She was adorable.

“I’d love to be married. Have a family. The whole happy package.”

“I knew it!”

“But not yet,” he warned, following her toward the shelves of batteries lined up on the north wall of the store. “I need to have a house that’s paid for, and my retirement settled. I need to be done with hockey so I have time. So I can be attentive.”

“You can be attentive during hockey.”

He snorted.

“So basically you’re going to be one of those eighty-year-old men marrying a woman in her twenties. I never quite pegged you as the type.”

“Ew. No.” He should have kept his mouth shut.

He was reading the labels on the wall to find the correct battery, but she stepped in front of him. “What’s this that we’re doing right now?” she asked.

“Me trying to get your car running.”

“No, in the rules for wooing women.”

“Quality pestering-me time. Move.” He gently pushed her aside and reached for the battery she needed.

She pressed her way in front of him again, and he sighed, straightening.

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