Page 38 of Peach Blossom Hollow

“One?” What kind of name was that? “Starting with aWor with anO?”

“As in the number.”

Leo watched Violet for a long moment, his hand still on the gearshift after he parked his car near hers. There had to be an explanation for that moniker. But she was bent over, stuffing her water bottle into the shoulder bag at her feet.

“You have to tell me the story of how he got his name,” he said.

“Nothing to tell.” She flashed a smile and opened her door, just about tumbling out when her foot got caught in her bag’s strap.

“You’re a horrible liar, Violet Granger,” he declared. He was learning her tells when she was pulling his leg. Her voice rose a little higher and she tended to hide her face so her expression wouldn’t give her away.

He got out, reaching for his jacket, then watched her over the car as she yanked on his locked trunk.

“Tell me.”

“Pop the trunk.”

“Story first.”

She gave him a glare without any bite. “You really want to know?”

“Yes. Especially if there are deep, dark secrets involved.”

She snorted, delighting him. It was so un-Violet to snort.

“Well, Leo.” Uh-oh. There was something in her tone that made him wary, as if he’d unwittinglystepped into a stupid-man minefield. “There comes a point in every woman’s life when she begins to wonder if she’s going to have a family.”

Yup. He really wished he hadn’t pushed this one. Violet’s current word:Scary.

And his?Uncomfortable.

“I’ve reached that point.”

He nodded silently, hoping to keep himself out of trouble.

“So I decided to become a cat lady.” She gestured to One, which was now winding his way between her legs in welcome. “This is the first of what will likely become many cats.”

Leo wasn’t sure how to respond, but had some doubt that she was serious. Violet might throw out the odd inaccurate statement here and there to get him off her case, but didn’t make up stories.

“One…” he said thoughtfully.

“The next cat will be Two.”

“How many will you have?”

“That’s yet to be determined. Pop the trunk?”

“But you still believe in love. You want help to find… You want marriage.” He shoved his fingers through his hair in confusion.

She needed him to find her someone suitable—and soon. He couldn’t let her become a reclusive cat lady. She was already a quiet introvert, happy to be alone and living off the beaten path. Plus working away. And working in a costume where nobody could really see her or connect with her… It wouldn’t be a long or difficult slide into the new identity of recluse.

The sound of laughter pulled him from his thoughts. “Gotcha!”

He stared at her for a moment, then blinked. She had been teasing him?

“Do I really look like someone who would freak out because I wasn’t married yet?” She was at his side now, pulling on his arm.

“I don’t know. Maybe. You’re very private.” He’d walked right into that one.

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