“Contrary to what you and Elana believe, I don’t wear panties,” he snapped.
“But you could,” she teased.
•••••
Violet knew she could’ve stayed at Spencer’sall night if she’d wanted. He wouldn’t throw her out. Hell, she could’ve convinced him to go to her house to feed Harry and Hermione with little effort. Spencer would’ve gladly done it, no matter how annoying she was being. And yeah, she could admit, she was dangerously close to getting on her own last nerve.
That was the only reason she decided to go home. At least, that was the excuse she told herself when she walked out of his house a few minutes ago.
“This is why you don’t date guys you might care about,” she ground out, gripping the steering wheel tighter than was necessary as she drove to her house.
Not that it would matter ever again. Violet had learned her lesson. From this point on, she would become the crazy cat lady of Coyote Ridge. They would write stories about her, about how she had seventy-five cats and eventually stopped coming out of her house because she couldn’t find the door over all the furballs.
“Gross.”
Maybe seventy-five wasn’t a good number. That would take a lot of litter boxes. Fifty was probably better. Or thirty. She would have to see when she got to that point.
The thought triggered the memory of Simon’s conversation with Paige.
Can we drop it? I’ll take care of it when the time comes.
Like on Friday?
Just drop it, please. I’m done talkin’ about it.
Violet could still hear the frustration in his voice. The way he sighed as though a mere conversation about her was tiring for him.
All she had to do was steer clear of him for a few more days. Maybe she could keep the store closed and hide out. There weren’t any bookish holidays she needed to deal with. October was a big month for that, so she had some time.
Yes. She would just—
The thought died a quick and painful death when she turned down her street and noticed Simon’s car parked in her driveway.
“Shit.”
Her first instinct was to drive past, but where would she go? She lived on a dead-end street, which meant she would have to drive back by the house to leave.
This wasn’t happening.
No, no, no.
With a resigned sigh, she pulled into her driveway at the last second and parked next to Simon’s car. She didn’t turn it off, though, wondering whether she could wait him out.
Then again, Harry and Hermione were likely looking out the window. They would notice she was home and be anxiously awaiting her arrival. She couldn’t keep them waiting. It wasn’t fair to them.
Violet stabbed the start/stop button and unhooked her seat belt. She grabbed the keys and her phone before climbing out of her car. Maybe if she ignored him, he would just go away.
“Where have you been?” Simon asked, standing up as she approached the porch.
“Last I checked, you weren’t my mother. You don’t get to ask me that.”
She made the mistake of looking at his face, so she saw the way his jaw clenched. Just a slight move that signaled his frustration.
“I really don’t have time to talk,” she told him, sidestepping him so she could reach the door. She pulled open the screen and held it open with her butt.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she muttered, stabbing her key into the lock. “Not a damn thing.”
