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Before things go any further, I have to speak to Cece alone. If I don’t, she’s likely to have me revealing things that have no business out in the light.
“Are you hungry?” I ask her.
Violet rests her hand on her stomach and nods. “So horny.”
My throat vibrates with laughter, and Violet’s lips pinch into a thin line.
“What’s so funny?”
I shift my focus to Cece. “Tell her,” I command.
Cece rolls her eyes, and her lips move as she explains to Violet that she mixed up ‘hungry’ and ‘horny’. Her cheeks flush a pretty shade of pink, and she drops her chin.
Well, hell. We can’t have that.
Reaching out, I tilt her chin and force her to look at me. Then I patiently show her the two different words and how to sign them. Once she has them both mastered, she smiles shyly.
“I am…” Violet swallows. “Hungry.”
“Cece, do you have anything in your break room she could eat while we talk?”
Cece nods and leads Violet away.
As soon as they’re out of sight, my entire being protests. I want Violet close. We just met, and she represents everything I despise, but I want her anyway.
Fuck!
CHAPTER9
VIOLET
“Here you go.”Cece hands me an apple and a protein bar. “There’s a variety of drinks in the fridge, too. Help yourself. I’m gonna go talk to Grim for a minute, but I’ll be right back.”
“Thank you for all your hospitality, but maybe I should go.”
I open the protein bar and take a bite. My stomach is a ball of nerves, and I know I need to eat something to try and settle it. I don’t know what I was thinking coming here.
Help, you need help.
“Please don’t go,” Cece pleads. “I know Grim looks a little rough. Hell, all of them do, but they aregoodmen. Give us a chance to come up with a plan.”
All of them?
I don’t respond but nod as I take another bite while she heads out of the breakroom. After finishing my snack, I wash my hands at the sink and then pull a bottle of water out of the fridge. When I sit back down at the small table, my thoughts drift.
My mom and Mrs. Coventry have to be going crazy trying to find me right now. It’s been almost thirty minutes since I arrived at Cece’s store. My phone pings, and I dig through my purse to find it. There are several missed text messages, but, thankfully, they’re all from my mother.
Mom: Are you okay?
Mom: How much longer are you going to be?
Mom: Violet Marie Simpson where are you??
Mom: You’re embarrassing me. Wait until I tell your father about your behavior.
What am I going to say to them? How do I explain my absence from the boutique?
My brain constantly turns with unanswered questions, but before I can dive too far down the rabbit hole, Cece calls my name. I race out of the breakroom, ignoring my sore muscles, and come to a halt when I reach the front of the store.
