"Can't think of a single reason they'd come over," I assured him. "We're not friends or anything. I'm just boarding my horses there. Means I got some money to put in the bank. Hopefully, I can save enough for a down payment on a place and start thinking about settling down."
"Well, I'll still have a job for you if it happens." He smiled at me, dipped his head, then floored his golf cart, heading back to the big house at the top speed of five miles an hour.
I laughed once at the retreating headlights, shook my head, then pushed myself to my feet. Fucking prejudiced bastard. Paul Simmons hated anyone who wasn't like everyone else in this town. We'd had a Mexican family move here once. They didn't even last the year. After their car was vandalized, their house covered in graffiti, and the wife got spit on at the grill, they vanished as fast as they came. I happened to know for a fact that Mr. Simmons had been encouraging it, but I couldn't say if he'd started it.
And his son, Ricky, had tormented me when I'd knocked up Meredith. Said I ruined her for everyone else, and damned near beat my ass over it. All my life, this was what I'd thought of as normal, but I'd also kinda known it wasn't right. Seeing things at Southwind? First with Vera, and now with Violet?
It made me think that being tied to this place until Faith turned eighteen might not be so bad after all. Knowing that there was one spot around here where people could be themselves felt like a light at the end of the tunnel. Nah, it wasn't perfect, but there was just a feeling there. Every time I pulled in that drive, it was like my problems became a little lighter, and I liked it.
I also liked the woman who was making it all possible. I wasn't sure what was going on between me and Violet, but I was willing to let this one play itself out in its own time. I could even get used to the other guys. Having Cy around felt like old times, back when I ran with my friends in high school. Ashton? Well, I could learn to ignore his pretty face if I had to.
And Violet? Damn if I hadn't thought about throwing her into bed again tonight. Watching Cy kiss her like that? Knowing what she looked like when I did it? Yeah. That got me going. The only part about it that confused me was that I'd actually admitted it. Half thought Violet would call me a freak, but she'd acted like there was nothing weird about me getting turned on by seeing her with someone else.
Or she'd just been too distracted from the way Cy had kissed her. Oh, I knew she'd liked it. Yeah, part of me kept screaming that I shouldn't let him touch my girl, but then there was that other part. The one that said no one was getting hurt, no one was gonna throw it back in my face, so it was going to be ok.
As I headed to the back to grab a shower, I chuckled. Maybe I should ask Cy for one of those psychology sessions for myself. I'd wait to see how he did with Faith first, though. Figured he couldn't make things worse for my little girl, and maybe he could actually make things better. It was certainly worth trying, because I was starting to worry about her. The only time I'd seen her smile in months had been when she was with Violet. She deserved to do it a lot more, and I actually trusted Cy to take care of her. I had a feeling he understood what it was like to not fit in, and I never had. Nope, I'd learned to fake it when I was little.
I just wasn't sure I'd stopped yet.
Chapter Thirty
Luke texted me the next morning before I was up, making sure we were still on for a session with his daughter. I assured him we were, but damned if I was ready. I had movers on the way with my stuff, and so much to do to make my new office look professional. I wanted to use one of the rooms on the ground floor; that way, when we had kids here, they wouldn't go upstairs. It was how Vera had run things, and now that I was older, it made a lot more sense. Upstairs was for the grown-ups - and grown-up things.
So I headed up the hall where Violet had taken over Gran's office. This old house was huge. I was pretty sure it had something like eight bedrooms, but it looked like it had been added onto over time. A wing jutted out here, another there, built when the original family had outgrown the space. From the architecture, I was willing to guess it was from the late 1800s. Not plantation style, but more Americana. In other words, perfect for Southwind.
When I checked the three other rooms, I found they hadn't been touched in years. The nurse's station was across from Violet's office. Next to the office was a room that had nothing but files. Basically, it was the biggest storage closet I could imagine. Diagonal from the office was the one I wanted. This had been the psychologist's office. There was a desk straight out of the 80s and a leather chaise lounge for the kid to relax.
It needed to be cleaned first, and soon enough, I'd have to redecorate, but I could use this. The shelves were bare and dusty. The carpet was the darkest green I'd ever seen. The walls were actually sponge painted. Clearly, a gay man had never been in here! But I'd worry about that later.
I spent the next few hours scrubbing, vacuuming, and directing the movers, who arrived in the middle of that. Thankfully, they were more than willing to just haul the boxes into the guest suite, so I could worry about those later. My main concern was the stale air in the office. I debated opening a window to air the whole place out a bit, but it was hot as fuck outside this time of year. But Violet came to my rescue. She sauntered in looking like she belonged on a catwalk and carrying a lit candle in a glass jar.
"It's a little stale in here," she said as she placed it on the desk.
"What scent?" I asked.
She smiled. "I went with vanilla. Figured that was safe, right?"
"That's my girl," I said, stepping in to give her a real low hug. "Hey, do we need to talk about that kiss?"
She scoffed, playfully slapping my chest. "Pretty sure you were trying to flirt with my cowboy."
"And maybe you a little," I admitted. "I also know the line. Not gonna push it."
This time, she just ran her palm over my chest. "I know, Cy. I'm not worried about it. I just didn't know you could kiss like that."
"Hot, huh?" I teased, letting her go. Then I changed the subject before she could feel too vulnerable. "So, I'm gonna request a little to redecorate. Assuming I pass this kid's evaluation."
"We can do that," she agreed. "Because those walls are very 90s, the carpet is horrendous, and that desk?"
"I know," I agreed. "I like the chaise, though. Would love a real couch to go with it, a respectable desk, and a leather office chair. Figure I can keep it under two grand, if you don't mind me painting the walls myself."
"Ask Luke to help," she teased. "Might even get his shirt off."
I groaned. "Evil woman. Now tell me what this girl's name is again?"
"Faith," she said. "I'm not sure if that's supposed to be like the singer or the Bible, but either is possible."
"And we're not going to compare her to either," I said. "So, I'm doing this completely cold - except for the basics you gave me, and the cutting stuff - just keep that in mind. Oh, and you have another decision. How do you want this to go? Am I the casual shrink, or the formal kind? In other words, this worth a suit, a cardigan, or a t-shirt?"
