“Yes, you can. Make sure he sits and acts like a gentleman first,” I said, studying Matthew. The double meaning was crystal clear.
“Okay!” Charlie dashed back, calling for the cat.
Matthew pulled up an empty stool and sat. “Violet, I’m sorry,” he said softly, resting a hand on my arm. “It was quite a shock when it finally dawned on me who the Sugarplum Fairy actually was.”
“Don’t play like this is the first time you’ve seen me.” I shrugged his hand free. “We danced together at the masquerade and you purposefully hid who you were.”
“Well it was a masked party.” His lips curved up slightly. “You were beautiful that night.” He leaned a little towards me.
Was he moving in for a kiss? I struggled to maintain my composure.
“But I remembered your temper and figured that if you would have known who I was—you’d have belted me.” His voice was a sexy murmur of sound.
“Matthew...” I whispered as he drew nearer. “I wouldn’t have done that.”
“Oh?” He moved in closer still. “What would you have done?”
“I would have told you to fuck off,” I said, politely. “And then I’d have sent you straight back to your wife—or to hell.”
Startled, he jerked back. “Violet, you should know—”
“Speaking of which,” I cut him off, ruthlessly. “Where was the little woman last night when you lost track of your own child?”
Matthew’s face went suddenly blank. “Charlotte’s mother passed away almost two years ago.”
“What?” I was horrified at his announcement. “What happened?”
He checked over his shoulder, ensuring his daughter was out of earshot. “Car accident.”
“I’m sorry, Matthew.” My stomach churned. Oh my gods! I thought. What could I possibly say to the man that would make up for my rude words in the face of tragedy? I gulped. “I didn’t know you were a widower.”
“I know that you didn’t. And apology accepted.” He blew out a breath and sent me a wary look. “I don’t recall you being so quick with an apology before.”
“Don’t get used to it,” I suggested. “It’s a one time deal.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “So now you’ve moved back to William’s Ford?” I asked.
“When a position came open at the University this fall, I accepted it. I wanted to move back home, to be closer to the people I care most about.”
“Teaching English Lit?” I asked.
“Yes.” He nodded. “The hair is new. I like it.”
Caught off guard by the shift in topics I narrowed my eyes. “It’s not a wig.”
Matthew ran a fingertip along the ends of my hair where it rested on my arm. “It’s striking. I’ve never seen a woman with blonde and lavender hair.”
It took everything I had not to react to his touch. “What, you’re suddenly into hair color?”
“I’m into your hair color,” he corrected.
“Whatever.” My stomach clenched, but I managed to wave his unexpected compliment away.
He chuckled. “I’ve missed you, Violet.”
“Ah, I—” I stammered over the unexpected admission. “I haven’t missed you,” I lied, folding my hands in my lap.
He slid a hand over mine, and I couldn’t stop the involuntary tremble. “No?” he whispered, inching closer.
Practically nose to nose with him I searched his eyes. “Are you flirting with me Matthew?”
“I want to see you again.” His voice whispered along my skin. “Spend time with you. Alone. We need to talk.”
Even as my insides went haywire, I pulled back. “Do you honestly expect to pick up where we left off, almost seven years ago?”
“No, I don’t,” he said. “Not exactly.”
“What do you want Matthew?”
“Violet.” He cleared his throat. “There are a few things that I need to tell you...”
“Come back, kitty!” Charlie’s happy shout had us jolting apart.
Tank came tearing out of the back room, and Charlie was right behind him. Caught up in the thrill of the game, the cat dove for the front window, and a poinsettia toppled over with a crash.
“Tank!” I said. “You know better. Come out of there!” I went to rescue the potted plant and the cat jumped out of the display window, streaked past me and ran straight at Charlie—and leapt. She caught him, overbalanced at the weight, and landed on her butt. Her gales of laughter had me smiling despite the broken flower pot.
“I caught him!” Charlie sounded proud.
“You sure did,” I said, setting the poinsettia on my work station. It wobbled and fell over. “Well shit,” I said half heartedly over the plant.
“Daddy?” Charlie piped up. “Were you fighting with the Sugarplum Fairy?”
“No,” we answered at the same time.
Matthew stood. “Violet and I were talking.”
Charlie’s eyes were huge. “Nuh-uh, you were arguing, and she used bad words.”
Tank meowed his two cents worth and sent me a feline glare of disapproval.
Damn, I thought ruefully. Got my chops busted by a cat and an almost-six year old. I’d never seen the cat take such a shine to a child before. He tended to avoid them. “Charlie.” I held out my hand and she climbed to her feet.
“Her name is Charlotte,” Matthew corrected me.
“She can call me Charlie,” she said, walking over to take my hand.
“Adults argue sometimes,” I explained. “Your daddy and I...” I trailed off trying to find the right words. “We used to know each other a long time ago.”
“You’re friends?” Charlie asked.
“Yes,” Matthew said.
“We used to be,” I said, giving the girl’s hand a squeeze.
“We’re trying to figure out if we can be friends again,” Matthew said.
“You should say you’re sorry for fighting.” Charlie’s big hazel eyes shone up at her father. Next, they locked onto mine.
Suddenly I wanted to do anything to make her smile. It was almost a compulsion. I shook that feeling off, noticed the time and dove on the perfect excuse to get Matthew Bell out of my shop, and the hell away from me. Before I did something stupid, I thought. Like jump right into his arms. I cleared my throat. “It was wonderful to see you again Charlie, but Tank and I have to close up.”
“Awwww!” Charlie’s displeasure was loud and long.
I walked to the door.
