Page 70 of Peach Blossom Hollow

“Are you ever going to buy a new car?” she asked, waiting for Leo to unlock the doors of his ancient vehicle.

“Yeah.”

“When?”

“Probably on the day I feel like my future is unfolding as it should and I can breathe again.”

He looked at her over his car’s rusty roof. He hoped that day would come soon.

“Good idea, because Christine probably wouldn’t be caught dead in this thing.” Violet climbed in, patting the dash of the car. “No offense, old girl.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’m ever giving her a rideanywhere.” He gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “I give up.”

“You give up?”

He nodded. “I’ve realized I want something more than a partnership. Something like what you’ve described.”

He had her attention now. He could feel it zeroing in on him in the small cab. “But you’re waiting, right? Until you have lots of money?”

“To start a family? I don’t know. I’d still like to be financially secure, as well as have the time to be fully present.”

Violet remained quiet, arms crossed, as they drove to the edge of town, then down her driveway. The porch light was on, and he could see Onesie sitting on the railing, waiting for them, his tail flicking back and forth as if they’d been out past the cat’s appointed curfew.

“I heard a rumor,” Violet said, her voice flat, as he stopped the car.

Leo gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. “Yeah?”

“About a trade.”

He swallowed, wishing there was a way to skip this conversation. They were two months out until this season’s trading deadline, but his name was on at least one list. He still wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. In terms of his career, likely good. In terms of him and Violet, not so good.

“I might get moved,” he said. He was afraid to be hopeful regarding his time in the league. Trades could be a sign of moving up or of moving down.

“So they’re talking about it?”

“There have been discussions.” Unless he’d endup close to his family in Montana, he wasn’t in favor of being traded. He wanted to settle here in Texas, and specifically in a place closer to Peach Blossom Hollow than San Antonio. A place that was feeling as much like home as much as Montana did.

Violet popped out of his car without a goodbye, moving way too fast to her front door for her mood to be considered calm or okay.

Leo climbed out of the driver’s seat slowly, wondering if he’d be invited in, or if she was too angry about the possibility of a trade.

He trailed after her, afraid of how she was reacting, what she might say and, ultimately, how she might hurt him. Because without realizing quite how he’d gotten to this point, she held his heart and could dash it with a few careless, hurting words.

“I don’t think the talks are that serious,” he said, coming up the porch steps as she flung open her door, keys bunched in her hand.

Once inside, she kicked off her shoes, and he followed, not removing his boots. If she was going to yell at him, he wanted it to be about something impersonal, such as his footwear.

“They don’t mind moving players like me, though. New ones who are unattached. Not yet settled into the city, team, or the like.”

Violet’s keys thumped down on her kitchen counter with a jangle as she muttered something about a curse. She flung open the fridge door and pulled out a can of root beer. Nothing for him. Not even a bite of her homemade kimchi—an old family recipe she’d wrangled from her mother.

She was upset. Really upset.

“Maybe I should go.”

He’d been hoping to kiss her tonight, show her that he was developing feelings for her that he thought might be love, but that idea now looked like a bad one. Or maybe it was good? She’d taught him that sometimes when a woman was upset or mad, she was hurting inside and just needed some kindness. Nice words, a hug, a kiss. Reassurance that she was loved.

“You could be traded anytime in the next eight weeks?” Violet asked.

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