Chapter Six

Walking out of the diner, Violet was viscerally aware of the man behind her. It was weird, but she felt a strange connection to him.

Not physical because there wasn't one. Not unless you considered how his fingertips lightly brushed the small of her back as though he was guiding her. She didn't think it qualified because it felt almost as though he wasn't quite comfortable touching her.

It was sweet, though. So was the way he reached around, pushing the door open—more nice guy points for him—then holding it so she could go out first.

It wasn't until he was walking beside her that she realized how much bigger he was. And it wasn't just his height. At barely five feet, most people were taller than her, so she was used to that. He was a few inches shorter than Holt, likely putting him right at six feet.

And she wasn't sure it was the breadth of his shoulders, either. The man obviously worked out. She knew he didn't earn that physique from sitting behind a microphone or whatever he did to record a podcast. Not unless he lifted weights while he did it.

"What?" he asked, glancing over at her.

Violet realized she was staring and felt her cheeks warm from embarrassment. "Nothin'. Did you drive?"

Simon jerked his chin in the direction of the B and B. "Walked."

Made sense. The bed and breakfast was only a short walk down the street and then across Walker Park.

"Well, this is me," she told him as they approached her 2019 KIA Soul, her favorite thing after Harry and Hermione, her family, her friends, the bookstore, and her house.

She clicked the fob to unlock the doors. Simon reached down and opened it for her.

Violet peered up at him. "I'd say thanks for dinner, but I paid for myself."

His eyes glittered with amusement. "Next time, I get to pay."

"What makes you think there'll be a next time?"

"Wishful thinking."

Swoon .

No! No swooning allowed. Nice guy, remember? The curse doesn't allow for nice guys.

Was he moving closer? Yes. Yes, he was.

So why wasn't she stepping back and making a joke of it? That was what she'd normally do in situations like this.

Then again, she'd never found herself in a situation like this. Not once had she ever met a nice guy she was attracted to. Not the way she was attracted to Simon.

"Violet?"

"Hmm?" She tilted her head back, keeping her eyes on his face. Or rather, his lips. He had really, really nice lips.

"Would a nice guy do this?"

She didn't get a chance to ask what he was referring to. The next thing she knew, his mouth was on hers, one hand cupping the back of her head, the other on the side of her neck, his thumb grazing her jaw.

It was just like in the movies. Sweet, romantic. Very much unlike any of the kisses she'd experienced before.

Unable to speak or think, she succumbed to the kiss not only because it was unexpected but because she couldn't refrain. His lips were soft, his tongue dominating despite the leisurely tempo. Simon Jennings somehow managed to ravish her mouth while maintaining decorum and control.

He pulled back first but didn't move away, his hands remaining on her. His thumb brushed against the pulse in her neck. Yeah, it was racing. Harder than it had in a very long time.

"I'm not nearly as nice as you think I am," he said, his voice low.

"I find that hard to believe."

"If you knew what was going through my mind right now, you wouldn't think so."

Curious, she pulled back enough to meet his gaze. "Tell me."

His thumb swept her jaw again, sending tingles dancing down her arms. "I can't stop thinkin' about you."

"Sounds sweet," she teased.

"Did I mention in nearly every one of my thoughts you're naked?"

Violet swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. "Sounds … nice ."

"Nice doesn't begin to describe it."

She couldn't believe she was entertaining this, yet here she was, not ready to walk away from this man. This instant attraction was insane, not to mention a little scary. She wasn't lying when she said she was attracted to bad boys. Or maybe she attracted bad boys. Either way, she'd gotten so used to a particular type that she'd begun to imagine herself taming one. Like they did in the romance novels she loved so much. With Simon, there was nothing to tame. Where was the challenge?

"Invite me back to your house, Violet."

With a silky voice like that, hell, it was possible he could tame her.

"Let me prove how not nice I am."

She gasped, her belly churning with a heat she hadn't felt in quite a while. Her breasts felt full, achy almost. And her pussy clenched with need, a subtle reminder of how good it would feel for him to fill that emptiness.

God, she was tempted. So freaking tempted.

But could she?

His green/blue/gray eyes burned with promise, and Violet found herself unable to resist him.

"Come home with me."

His eyes locked with hers, and that damn dimple formed in his cheek. "This is a test, isn't it?"

Test? What was he— Ah. Right. Nice guys didn't go home with women on the first date.

Was this a date?

She decided to play it off the same way he was.

"Maybe." Liar. Whatever her reasoning, the invitation was real. She couldn't explain why she was so drawn to this man. Perhaps it was because she knew this was temporary. He wouldn't be in town long. What would one night with him hurt?

Simon leaned in, his hand firmly cupping the back of her head as he sealed his lips to hers once more. The firestorm ignited, causing her to push up on her toes to get closer, her fingers slipping into the soft hair at his nape. He remained cool and collected, still dominating the kiss while she began to burn out of control.

"Simon," she murmured against his lips, desperate to get closer.

His hands firmed on her face as he pulled back again. "I'm gonna walk away, Violet."

She frowned, confused. "I thought…"

Simon's head tilted. "You thought I wanted you?" His eyes blazed hot. "More than I've wanted anything in my life."

His words were like fuel to the fire.

"Yeah, I want to spend the night with you, Violet," he continued, his voice soft and warm between them. "More than my next breath."

She nodded because she wanted that, too.

"And I plan to."

Oh, good. She wasn't reading the situation wrong.

"But first, I want you to go home and think about it." His thumb swept her jaw once more. "If you want me in your bed, you can text me your address. I won't hesitate."

Violet wasn't sure she should be turned on by the fact he was giving her an out. That was definitely not something a bad boy would do. Simon wasn't trying to overwhelm her. He was letting her choose. And for some reason, she found that exceptionally hot.

"Let me see your phone," he said when he released her, taking a step back.

Without thinking, she passed it over. He tapped something on the screen, and his cell phone chimed a moment later.

"Now you have my number." Simon passed her phone back, then leaned down and kissed her softly. "I hope you'll use it."

Swallowing hard, she nodded, unsure what to say.

"Good night, Violet."

She nodded again, smiling. "Good night."

By the time there was feeling in her legs again, Simon was almost out of sight as he walked toward the bed and breakfast. A giggle escaped as she climbed into her car. Her belly tossed and turned, churning with anxiety and anticipation. Like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush.

She made it all the way home before she looked at her phone. She stared at the screen as she made her way into the house. She continued to stare at the screen as she greeted Harry and Hermione, flopping on the couch so they could cuddle and purr.

"Remember the guy I was tellin' you about?" she asked the cats, not expecting an answer. "I had dinner with him tonight."

Harry stopped rubbing against her arm as though he knew what she was saying.

"I know. I know. Not a good idea." She looked at him. "But you should see him. He's so cute with those pretty eyes and that dimple."

Hermione meowed.

"And he's nice ."

As soon as the word was out of her mouth, she thought back to the kiss, and her body lit up from the inside. The man knew how to kiss, that was for damn sure.

"I invited him over," she said, once again looking at the phone. "Because he asked me to. And because I want him to."

Huffing a sigh, she stabbed the phone, bringing it to life. Rather than text Simon, she called Elana. Surely, her best friend would have advice on how to handle this.

"Did you seriously have dinner with Simon Jennings?" Elana asked in greeting.

Violet laughed. "Wow. That was fast."

"Yeah, well. April posted on Facebook that she was out to dinner with her fiancé. Holly commented on it. Leif Walker then commented on her comment, stating he was there, too. He posted a pic that he took from across the room, proving it, and lo and behold, there you are, sitting at a table with Simon." There was a hint of hope in her voice. "I thought he was too nice."

"He is," she said, though she wasn't so sure that was a bad thing anymore.

"So why do you sound giddy?"

That's what the feeling was. The way her belly twisted in anticipation. The way her chest felt fuller than usual. The way her toes constantly curled and her lips curved into a smile whenever she thought about him. She was giddy.

"He told me to invite him over."

"He told you?" Elana sounded excited. "What did you say?"

"I invited him over."

Elana lowered her voice. "Is he there now?"

Violet laughed. "No, so you don't have to whisper."

"Where is he?"

"The B and B."

"I don't get it," Elana huffed. "Give me the punchline."

"He told me to invite him. I did. He told me he would, but first, he wanted me to think about it. Said to text him if I wanted him to come over."

"Did you?"

"No. I just got home."

"And you called me ? Girl, what is wrong with you? What're you waitin' for?"

"Really?" Violet laughed. "No words of warning?"

"Is that what you wanna hear? Me warnin' you away from a nice guy?"

"Yes. No. Hell, I don't know."

"Did you ask Spencer what he thought?"

Violet rolled her eyes. "I don't have to. He'll tell me to go for it for no other reason than he's hot."

Elana laughed. "True."

"What happens if I end up liking him? I mean, really like him. He's not gonna be around for long."

"Which makes it perfect," Elana said. "You've never had a fling with a nice guy. It might be just what you need to break the curse."

"I thought you didn't believe in curses?" she shot back.

"I don't. But you do."

Yes, she did, and she doubted one night with a nice guy would break years' worth of proof. No matter what anyone told her.

"Text him, Violet."

She huffed, dropping her head back and staring at the ceiling. "What if the sex is horrible?"

"He's leaving town soon, right? You can just avoid him until he does."

"How?"

"Pretend you're too busy until he leaves."

She could do that, sure.

"But you and I both know the sex won't be horrible."

Yeah. That was what Violet was afraid of.

"Okay." She sat up. "I'm gonna text him. But if you don't hear from me tomorrow, you better come lookin' for me."

"I will. Don't worry."

After hanging up with Elana, Violet set her phone on the coffee table. She didn't want to appear too eager, so she got to work tidying up the house. It wasn't dirty, so it didn't take long.

Finally, with her nerves jangling, Violet picked up her phone, pulled up the text message Simon had sent when he gave her his number.

She smiled, her chest squeezing tight as she read the message she hadn't realized he'd sent.

— I'm not nearly as nice as you think. Promise.

Taking a deep breath, she typed a response.

— I'd like to find out how not nice you are. Come over, Simon.

She typed her address in and hit send, then sat back and waited, her nerves clanging like church bells and her belly tied in a knot.

·····

"Bailey?" Holt called to the woman currently moving about the house in a mad rush.

"What?" she shouted back.

Simon glanced at Holt, grinning as the man stared at the doorway, anticipating the arrival of the woman he was clearly head over heels for.

"Come here," Holt answered, his tone firm, calm.

Very much the opposite of Bailey at the moment. Whenever Simon had seen her, at least for the past two days, she'd been running around like her ass was on fire. From the bits and pieces he'd picked up, she was responsible for taking care of the out-of-town guests coming in for the upcoming wedding. While he saw nothing wrong with anything in the place, he apparently didn't understand what went into taking care of that many people at once.

He'd also managed to pick up enough information to know that the upcoming nuptials were between Brantley Walker, one of Violet's many cousins, and Reese Tavoularis, a native of the small town. And by means of deduction, the wedding was not this weekend but the next.

Bailey appeared in the doorway, her hand on her hip. "What?"

Holt laughed, then gestured her over by crooking his fingers.

Simon watched, wondering if it would work.

Well, whaddya know. It did.

Bailey approached him slowly. Like one might approach a rabid dog.

As soon as she was within reach, Holt curled his hand around her wrist and pulled her in, shifting his book to the side table so he could pull her into his lap.

Simon immediately looked away the same way he had whenever those two got cozy. Which, frankly, was quite often. More so than Simon had expected. What was even weirder was the couple of times he'd been nearby when Bailey and Rafe shared a stolen moment. The first time, he'd been shocked. The second time, he'd been shocked. The third time—perhaps because Holt had been there that time—he'd realized he had no idea what it was like to be a throuple.

Nor could he fathom being in one. To each his own and all that, but Simon was far too possessive to share his partner with anyone else. It seemed to be working for them and, from what Simon had heard, several others in town, too.

Still, it was a little weird, but not for reasons pertaining to how many people were in the relationship. It was just that the Holt Callahan that Simon knew wasn't the sort to settle down.

They'd been friends for several years, having met when Holt reached out to ask questions about one of Simon's podcasts. At first, he hadn't been sure what to think of the guy. Turned out, their introduction had changed Simon's entire life. He actually had Holt to thank for much of his success. The man was single-handedly responsible for boosting his podcast's downloads. Thanks to Holt's frequent mentions of Havoc Your Way , Simon had become an overnight sensation. In the past five years, his audience had multiplied twentyfold—twice—and his downloads and ratings had soared.

It had been unexpected, to say the least. More so, his fondness for the guy. Holt Callahan was what Violet would definitely call a nice guy. He looked out for the people in his life, putting everyone else first. It was the very reason Simon hadn't batted an eye when Holt asked him to come to Coyote Ridge and look into what Holt insisted was a potential goldmine for an investigative journalist.

As for the story, Simon wasn't sure there really was one, but he would do just about anything to help Holt out, so here he was.

A timer sounded from the other room, causing Bailey to jump to her feet. Simon grinned to himself as Holt watched her scurry out of the room.

"You like her, huh?" Simon teased his friend.

Holt laughed. "More than a little, yeah."

"You thinkin' about marryin' her?"

"Both of 'em," he said with a wink.

Yep, the guy was a goner.

Simon's phone buzzed in his hand, his gaze darting to the screen. Until that moment, he hadn't realized how much he'd been anticipating Violet's message. Probably because he was expecting her to ghost him.

— I'd like to find out how not nice you are. Come over, Simon.

Simon stared at his phone. His first instinct was to jump to his feet and race out the door. Ever since he walked away from Violet, he'd been eager to see her again. It hadn't yet been an hour since he left the diner, yet it felt like an eternity.

That kiss.

The way Violet surrendered so perfectly had nearly knocked him off his feet. He couldn't remember a time when he'd kissed a woman who hadn't fought to dominate him. Not to say those kisses had been bad. They hadn't. But nothing compared to the sweet surrender and the underlying eagerness of Violet's kiss.

Would she surrender like that in bed?

"Only one way to find out," he said under his breath as he got to his feet.

"What was that?" Holt looked up from the book he was once again reading.

"Nothin'."

"That smile doesn't look like nothing," Holt joked, jerking his chin upward.

"Whatever. I'm goin' out for a bit."

Holt nodded, his attention returning to the book. "If she kicks you out, the door'll be unlocked."

Simon opened his mouth to deny it but shut it just as quickly. There was no reason to. He was going to Violet's, and he was sure rumors would be running rampant by morning. As soon as one of her neighbors noticed a strange vehicle parked in her driveway, the rest of the town would hear about it.

There was an advantage to living in a big city. Anonymity wasn't necessarily a bad thing. But he trusted Violet to have considered that before inviting him to her house. That was part of the reason he'd walked away. From what little he knew of her, she wasn't usually impulsive. The last thing he wanted was for her to do something she would regret tomorrow.

Not that he intended to do anything tonight that could cause regret. He had no expectations whatsoever besides getting to know a stunningly beautiful woman.

"No expectations," he said aloud, rolling down the windows to admire the small town of Coyote Ridge as he drove toward her house.

It was not even ten o'clock on a Friday night, and a good portion of the town had shut down already. The lights were off in all the businesses along Main Street. From what he could tell, the diner and Moonshiners were the only places open. He knew from the sign he'd spotted at the diner that they would be closing soon. They stopped taking customers at ten Monday through Saturday and seven o'clock on Sunday.

It was weird not to drive by a McDonald's or a Whataburger, many of which were open twenty-four hours. Not to mention Walmart, which, until the pandemic, you could find at least one within ten miles to go to if you had a craving at two in the morning. That wasn't the case here. There were no big box stores, no all-night fast-food franchises.

What Simon found the oddest was the fact that he liked it. It was peaceful, quiet.

And there were stars visible in the inky black sky. He noticed them as he was getting out of his car in front of Violet's house. Without the smog and lights from the city, you could see the stars twinkling high above.

Simon closed the car door and peered around. The address she'd given him brought him to a street lined with other houses very similar to hers. They were all relatively small, some having one-car, detached garages. Clapboard and brick on the exteriors, wrought iron railings on the porches, most of which were little more than four by four squares of concrete with one or two steps leading down.

He narrowed his gaze to Violet's yard, what little he could see thanks to the security light that flashed on as he neared the house. The grass was mowed, the hedges separating her house from her neighbors were trimmed, and her flowers, what few there were, were a brilliant pop of color against the dark mulch in the flowerbeds. Like her, it was … cute .

Simon stepped up onto the porch and took a deep breath. As soon as he raised his hand to knock, he heard a female voice shouting from inside.

"No! No, no, no! Stop!"

Without thinking, Simon grabbed the doorknob, praying it was unlocked. He twisted and it gave—this was a small town; probably didn't need to lock the door—so he barreled into the house. Thinking he was coming to Violet's rescue, he felt like an idiot when he found her standing with her hands on her hips, glaring at what had to be the largest house cat he'd ever seen.

Oh, shit. Another came prancing into the room, tail swaying merrily.

"Harry," she bit out. "We've talked about this. You cannot play with the popcorn."

Since Violet clearly didn't realize he was there, Simon cleared his throat.

Her head snapped up, a high-pitched squeal escaping while her hand slapped over her heart the same way it had at the store when she turned around to find him and Holt standing there.

She reached up and plucked her earbuds from her ears, frowning at him. "You have got to stop doin' that."

Both cats turned to look at him briefly before turning their attention to the pile of popcorn.

Feeling the need to explain, Simon said, "I heard you scream."

"Don't bother to knock," Violet muttered. "Just come on in."

"I thought you were…" He let the sentence hang because she wasn't paying attention to him, her eyes locking onto the popcorn spread out on the rug in front of the couch.

"He likes to play with the popcorn," she explained as though it might make the scene make sense. "If I don't give him any—and I never do—he thinks he can take the whole bowl."

Simon had no idea what to say.

Violet huffed a sigh as she dropped to her knees, turned over the upended bowl, and hastily started putting the popcorn back in it.

"Let me help," he offered, not waiting for her to respond before kneeling on the floor a few feet away, scooping a handful and dumping it into the bowl.

The cat she hadn't been facing off with came over, moving in closer as it made its way around him.

"Is … umm…" Simon pointed to the cat.

"Hermione," Violet supplied.

Harry and Hermione. Cute.

"Is Hermione gonna bite me?" he whispered to Violet.

When she didn't answer, he looked up to see she was staring at him, her eyes wide.

He stopped scooping popcorn and sat back on his heels. "Oh. Sorry. Is this too nice for you?"

Her eyes shifted to his face. She frowned, then looked back down. "No." She shook her head and laughed. "Sorry. I've just never seen Hermione welcome anyone except for Elana."

"Really?" Simon shifted his attention to the cat now pressing up against his leg.

He held out a hesitant hand, letting the cat know it was in charge. Hermione sniffed him once, then pressed her head into his palm. As she was doing so, Harry decided to get in on the action, moving around to his other side. Then there they were, boxing him in on both sides, rubbing themselves against his thighs. When they started to purr in unison, they sounded like jet engines.

"Wow," Violet said in awe. "Harry doesn't like anyone but me. Not my sisters. Not my best friends. Not my mother." She let out a ragged exhale. "Wow."

"I guess I've got a way with animals," he told her.

"Ha ha." The sarcasm in her tone was extreme, but she sounded less defensive. "Lemme guess, now you're gonna tell me it's because you've tamed hundreds of pussies over the years?"

Simon watched her, unable to say anything. Clearly, her expectations of him were low.

When she finally looked up at him, her eyes snapped wide in horror.

"Oh, my God!" Violet lurched to her feet. "I am so sorry. That was crude and rude and—"

Simon was on his feet instantly, popcorn crunching under his feet as he reached for her. He pulled her into him, slanted his head, and crushed his mouth to hers.

And just like earlier, he felt like he was home for the first time. As though he fit when he'd spent so many years feeling like he didn't.

Violet moaned, her body softening as she leaned into him and let him control the kiss. His tongue mated with hers, a passionate dance that had always seemed unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

But kissing Violet … it was his new favorite thing.