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“Violet,” he paused.
“Yes,” I said, half packed and dying to get back to him.
“I’m in.”
I took a shuddering breath at his words as he paused. I wanted more, so I waited.
His voice was silky smooth as he spoke to me. “I know that’s what you are afraid of. I know why you ran. I should have told you about Bryce, but I wasn’t as sure then as I am now. I know this is all really soon and I know you will barely be divorced, but this is something we both know is worth taking the risk for. There’s no question of what’s going on here. Come back, come fall in love with my son like you want to. He will love you back. There are two men here that could really use you around.”
I sank to the bed next to my open suitcase. “I couldn’t handle falling in love and pushed aside like that again. I don’t think I can go through it again. And with you—with you, Rhys—I know how much it would hurt,” I admitted.
“I’m in.” Those two words were all I needed.
“Okay,” I said hoarsely.
“Okay.”
I hung up with him then called the airlines. I was scheduled to fly out first thing Friday morning, unable to get an earlier flight due to the holiday.
I quickly texted Rhys my flight info and told him I would be at his house by noon on Friday. I couldn’t handle hearing his voice any more tonight and not being with him. I went to sleep dreaming of two sets of gray eyes that held my heart.
RHYS: I burned my fucking turkey. How is that even possible? Don’t these things have to cook for hours?
VIOLET: I’m sorry. I just pissed in my bikini laughing at you. I’ll have to get back to you on that one.
RHYS: It’s only noon and this day is a disaster.
VIOLET: If it makes you feel better, I forgot to thaw my chicken and have to eat a frozen burrito.
RHYS: No, it doesn’t. It makes me sad. There are three other turkeys left for us. I’ll save you some. We can have a picnic in bed.
VIOLET: A picnic in bed sounds kind of romantic.
RHYS: I can be romantic. I can do one even better. I heard a song while I was cooking and thought of you.
VIOLET: Really? You have a song for me?
RHYS: Yeah, with a kick ass guitar solo.
VIOLET: Uh huh. Send me the link.
RHYS: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KFAcjKnak1M
Oh God, I was pretty picky with my music. I sat staring at the link, wondering what kind of music he could possibly be thinking of me to. I bit the bullet and clicked the link and damn near had a heart attack on the beach.
The man was a fucking miracle.
It was Thanksgiving and I couldn’t get to him fast enough. Halloween—aka my birthday—had sucked as well. Christmas better damn well be good to me. After another day of sunbathing, I took to my favorite chair on the back deck and called my mother.
“Hi, Mom. Happy Thanksgiving,” I said, hoping she didn’t hear the sadness in my voice.
“Baby girl, I sure hope you are relaxing and enjoying yourself.”
“I am. It’s beautiful here, Mom,” I noted, staring at the ocean as the waves rolled in and the sun blazed in the background, making it’s descent.
“Good girl. Have you talked to Rhys?”
“Every day for hours. Mom, he’s wonderful, like a truly amazing person.” I felt my voice shake. Why the hell was I getting emotional?
