Page 35 of Peach Blossom Hollow

“We’re spending time together,” she insisted. "And you’ve been attentive. This is like marriage. If we were married, this would be us enjoying domestic moments and a morning together. Breakfast, running errands…”

He knew he shouldn’t imagine it—what it would be like to be married to Violet. How easy and fun it would be. That smooth, comfortable feeling of having a friend you loved in your house in the morning. Sharing moments, making memories out of the small things in life.

And there was that brief moment in the limo when he’d thought they were going to kiss…

“You have to have your affairs settled before you bring children into the world,” he grumbled, grabbing the battery.

“Life is for living.”

“I’m living it.”

“No, you’re putting off the best parts for later. When you feel you deserve it, when you feel you’re ready.”

He inhaled sharply.

“I’m just saying.”

“Fine. So what if I am? I know what I’m doing, Violet.”

She turned her beautiful dark eyes on him, then finally reached for the battery in his arms. “Here. Let me.”

“I’ve got it.”

She tried to worm her fingers under the battery, trying to take it from him. “Look at my arms, Vi. It’s heavy.”

She glanced at his bulging muscles, and relented. He used the distraction to stride past her, eventually plunking the battery on the counter by the cash register.

“I’ll pay.” She whipped out her credit card. “It’s my car.”

The limo ride back to his place seemed swift, and before long they were in his car, heading to Sweetheart Creek with Violet’s new battery and her overnight bag, and a lot of questions whirling through his mind.

Life. Love.

What he truly wanted, as well as what he thought he deserved.

And then a few thoughts about whether duringhis wooing training he’d need to practice kissing Violet.

The silence in the car was a relief. It gave Violet time and space to think, to talk herself down. Leo was a nice guy, and she was starting to feel things for him, and it seemed a bit like he might be feeling some things as well. Which meant she was doing it again—seeing stuff that wasn’t there. And really, who was she to flirt with him? He was afriend. She needed to get a grip on herself.

“Mind if I play DJ?” she asked, buying more time with her thoughts through music.

Leo nodded and gestured to his car stereo. His T-shirt molded to him like a glove and she wondered how much he worked out. It was one of the many questions she feared asking. Because complimenting a man’s physique, or at least noticing it, showed possible interest. Didn’t it?

Or was she thinking too much again?

She played an ABBA song and Leo said, “I haven’t heard this one in a long time.” His smile warmed her gut, and she wished she’d feigned napping instead of playing music.

She chose Metallica next, figuring the cowboy wouldn’t have a connection to the band or song and she would be safe from lovely smiles.

Leo laughed when the opening cords rang through his speakers. “I haven’t heard this one in eons, either. I had this friend who wanted to listen to this song nonstop, all the time.”

“Cowboys listen to heavy metal?”

“Some do.”

“What do you think about Taylor Swift or Miley Cyrus? A fan?”

“Love them both. I actually met Miley once.”

---