Page 45 of Peach Blossom Hollow

“No,myinstincts are wrong.”

“Pretty sure mine are.”

“The women I grew up around ate whatever. It’s like I don’t even know or understand Christine…” He paused, thinking over his confession. Why was he pursuing her if he didn’t know her? Was it enough that she lent the right image and that he believed she would help him get where he wanted to be?

Weren’t there people you could hire to help you market yourself?

Why was he trying so hard to get Christine Lagrée to see his potential?

Because she knew sports and was connected to the same world he was, just in a different way. He knew they could help each other.

But it wasn’t happening.

“Ranchers burn off tons of calories working on their land,” Violet said, still arguing that he wasn’t in the wrong, it was her.

But if that was true, it was likely because of him and his stupid plan to woo a woman who couldn’t see past his cowboy roots.

“You eat cobbler,” he pointed out.

“I do.”

“And you don’t work on a ranch.”

“Also true.”

“Maybe Christine is defective.”

Perhaps that could be her word. Although maybe when he was around it was simplyuninspired.

Violet gave a snort-laugh. “She’s not defective. She’s very nice.”

“I’m starting to think I don’t understand women at all. This is hopeless.”

Violet touched his arm. “Hey, you understand me, and I’m not a rancher. Don’t beat yourself up.” Her voice turned gentle. “I hate to say it, but maybe the two of you just aren’t compatible or meant to be. You’re not her type.”

“How is that even possible? Have you looked at me?” He shot Violet a grin and she laughed.

“There’s that down-home modesty shining through again.”

“Come here,” he said, opening his arms. He could use a hug right now. Not only to ward off the crappy feeling of failure, but to thank Violet for being such an awesome, loyal friend.

She blinked, then tentatively curved her body against his for a hug there in the chilly hallway. He sighed, releasing the tension from his body and mind. Hugging Violet made everything feel doableagain. Maybe even attempting to woo Christine one last time. She did laugh at his jokes and return his text messages, at least. So maybe it wasn’t entirely hopeless.

“Where’s the cobbler? Need help eating it?” Violet leaned back and looked up at him. “Tell me you didn’t leave it with her so she could toss it as soon as you were gone.”

“Not a chance.”

“So?” She stepped back, breaking that warm, delicious contact. He hadn’t realized how beat-up he’d been feeling and how much he’d needed that hug from a friend. Her support was always the best. But hugs? You couldn’t top them. Especially the way Violet’s petite body packed a punch that would knock the wind out of you if you let her.

“Cobbler?” Violet repeated. “We can pick up ice cream on the way home.”

He shot her a guilty look.

“What?”

“I already ate it.”

She gave a bark of laughter. “You lie! You’re hiding it somewhere so you can have it all to yourself.”

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