Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Willow, who’s been quietly listening to the conversation, glances my way with a soft smile. “You know, Callum, you could always take a weekend off. It wouldn’t hurt to let someone else run things for a couple of days.” Her tone is light, but there’s a hint of a challenge in her eyes.
I smile back, though it doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “Maybe one day,” I reply, knowing full well that I’m dodging the suggestion. There’s just too much going on right now to even consider stepping away.
But as the conversation continues, and my family talks about Tripp’s book tour and the potential camping trip, I find my thoughts drifting back to the mountains. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst idea to go back, to reconnect with that part of myself I’ve kept tucked away for so long.
“It could be your honeymoon,” my mother says, her voice light but filled with that particular tone she uses when she’s making a suggestion that’s more of a command.
“What could be?” I ask, playing dumb, even though I know exactly where this is going.
“The camping trip,” she says, smiling like she’s just come up with the most brilliant idea in the world. “You and Violet, sleeping underneath the stars, spending time together away from everything. It’d be the perfect opportunity to get to know each other better.” She says it so casually, like it’s no big deal that we just got married on a whim and are now supposed to bond over a campfire and sleeping bags.
Around the table, everyone perks up. Anya claps her hands together, her face lighting up with excitement. “Oh, that’s perfect! A honeymoon in the mountains, just the two of you!” She glances at Griffin, who’s grinning like a fool, probably imagining us roasting marshmallows and snuggling under a shared blanket.
Shep and Pax exchange amused looks, and even Felicity, despite juggling a teething baby, smiles at the thought. “It’d be so romantic,” she says, bouncing August in her lap.
I glance over at Violet, catching her wide-eyed expression. She looks as uncomfortable as I feel. And for a moment, I’m hit with the memory of earlier, when we were alone upstairs, and I almost kissed her. The urge to do it had been so strong, so sudden. The way her blue eyes met mine, the heat between us—it was more intense than I’d expected. And I definitely wanted that kiss more than I should have.
But that’s exactly why we’re not going camping.
I clear my throat and sit up straighter, squashing the idea before it gains any more traction. “Absolutely not,” I say, my tone firm, leaving no room for debate. “We’re not going camping.”
The chatter around the table dies down immediately. All eyes are on me now, and I can feel the weight of their confusion. My mother raises an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by the forcefulness of my response.
“Why not?” Anya asks, genuinely puzzled. “It’d be fun, Callum. You guys could—"
“We’re not going,” I interrupt, sharper this time. I catch Violet’s gaze, and she looks relieved. “We’ve both got things to handle. The restaurant, the ranch… we can’t just drop everything and disappear into the woods for a weekend.”
My mother purses her lips, like she’s trying to decide if she should push the issue. She’s always been the type to believe in grand gestures and romantic getaways, but this is one time I’m not budging.
“Well, I suppose you know best,” she finally says, though her tone is a little disappointed. The others exchange glances, but they don’t press further. The excitement about the camping trip fizzles out, and the conversation shifts back to Tripp’s book tour.
I let out a quiet breath of relief. As much as I’m trying to downplay everything, the truth is, I can’t shake the feeling I’m playing with fire. The more time I spend with Violet, the harder it gets to keep things casual, to remind myself that this is just temporary. And going on a honeymoon—even a makeshift one in the mountains—would only complicate things more.
I just hope nobody notices the way my gaze keeps flicking toward Violet, or how I can still feel the pull between us, no matter how hard I try to ignore it.
Chapter 13
Violet
"Joey, did you try that new feed in the horses' hay?" I ask, my voice tinged with concern as I brush Buddy’s mane, trying to make sense of his sluggish behavior.
He steps out of one of the stalls and makes his way over to me, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Yeah, I mixed it in yesterday. Why, what’s wrong?”
I continue running my hand down Buddy’s neck, feeling for any sign of tension or discomfort. The beautiful brown and white American Paint Horse, usually full of life, stands still, his eyes half-lidded as though exhausted. “He seems a bit lethargic. Maybe we should have the vet come out.”