“Sorry. It’s just…private.” She bent and gathered several stray papers—a few of which had definitely been burned, not to mention the globs of plastic melted to them. “Anyway, sorry again for all the trouble, and thanks for your help. Again. Yeah, so…” She straightened with so much force the top of her head bumped his chin, rattling his teeth together.
“Ouch,” she said, rubbing her head and backing away as if he’d been responsible. “I’m going to go put this up.”
Earlier, he’d been hoping to coax a full smile out of her, but the one she flashed him had a manic edge to it. Talk about a whiplash in moods.
A big part of his recent dry spell came from his indifference to dating. He’d given up on serious relationships a handful of years ago. Yet after a search and rescue mission down south, casual dating had lost its appeal. Shallow interactions didn’t seem worth the effort, and his life didn’t allow time to pour into activities that left him unfulfilled.
But Violet… There was something undeniably intriguing about her.
Figures he’d go and experience his first spark in ages with a woman who appeared to be in the middle of planning a wedding.
Possibly even her own.
…
Violet stared into the charred depths of the oven along with Maisy, even though she had no idea how to tell if the damage was bad enough to require a new one.
Was that something you could determine by eyeballing it?
Guilt settled heavy in her gut, along with a righteous lump of unfairness that made her want to stomp her foot. She’d been trying to help and avoid a disaster, and, in what had become one of her classic moves, had only made things worse.
Much like the time she’d attempted to prove how fine she was and scheduled an engagement photoshoot two days after Benjamin moved out. Then she’d gone and had a breakdown that resulted in refunding the couple’s session and referring them to another photographer.
No wonder she was no longer inspired.
Hell, no wonder Benjamin hadn’t wanted to put a ring on it. On top of being the ditz he often teased her of being, she was a complete and utter mess. Something she was acutely aware of with the beefy firefighter standing a few yards away. He undoubtedly thought she was bonkers for ripping her binder out of his hands.
The idea of him flipping through her failed hopes and dreams, though?
Even now, it made her skin feel too tight.
Violet had taken her bedraggled binder and hidden it in one of the kitchen cupboards. Then she’d trudged back to the alley to face the disaster she’d caused.
And the sexy firefighter with a deep voice made for dirty words. Don’t even get her started on the defined scruffy jaw and ripped arms that were on display now that he’d taken off his firefighter coat.
His fellow firefighter was handsome as well, a few inches shorter than Ford but on the bulkier side. He was also sporting a gold wedding band that contrasted his umber skin. The scene called to mind firefighter fantasy scenarios—only in real life, mortification dented her ability to fully appreciate the eye candy.
If Violet didn’t think Ford and his dog would attempt to revive her, she’d pass out from embarrassment.
As if her half sister sensed she needed comforting, Maisy wrapped an arm around her. “It could’ve happened to anyone.”
Violet sniffed loudly—it wasn’t like the guy standing on Maisy’s other side would look her way twice anyway, even on her best, most dolled-up day. “That’s so nice of you to say, but I’m the girl who can’t even put cupcakes in the oven.”
“Maisy’s right,” Ford said. “It happens all the time.”
There was that deep voice again. Her ears perked up, begging him to say more. The guy’s only flaw was his dark hair, which was chin length, irresistibly disheveled, and stood out against his fair skin.
Not that the longer, I-woke-up-this-way style didn’t suit him. It completed the whole hot country-boy look, adding to the notion that he caught fish with his bare hands and wrestled alligators for fun.
Yep, it was a good thing she didn’t go for dark-haired guys with fair skin, because clearly that was the only thing standing in her way. Ugh, could this day get any worse?
At least the crowd at the mouth of the alley had thinned, most of the looky-loos deciding the exciting part had already come and gone. “Wait,” she said, scrunching up her forehead. “You said the firetruck doesn’t come out very often.”
Ford gave her a curled-lip smile that had her thinking of the old-school Elvis movies her bubbie used to watch. “Not very often. When there is a fire, it’s either a controlled burn that got out of control or an electrical house fire caused by appliances. Toasters, blenders…” He patted the blackened machine next to them. “Ovens.”
“While it looks a little worse for wear, I don’t think the heating element is damaged,” Maisy said. “And if it’s done-zo, I have insurance for this very reason.”
In an attempt to placate Maisy, Violet nodded, but she could hear her ex in her head. Classic Violet. You’ve got a bullet-point wedding and life plan, but you go to the store and fail to get the one thing you went there for.
Countless times she’d put dinner on to cook, only to forget about the food entirely. Benjamin would get so frustrated, calling the burned meals a waste and complaining about the townhouse perpetually smelling of smoke.
You’re the most disorganized organized person I know, he’d told her on a regular basis.
Violet’s lungs contracted. Part of the reason she insisted on organization was to help manage her ADHD. Scattered attention and the inability to focus were the better-known symptoms, but the other side of the coin was becoming so immersed in activities she enjoyed that she became oblivious to everything else.
As hard as she tried, she’d constantly get lost in photo editing or adding inspiration pictures to her wedding binder. What seemed like minutes turned into hours, and she’d emerge from the soothing world inside her head to one filled with chaos, confusion, and, worst of all—Benjamin’s disappointment.
That’d fuel her anxiety, and from there, it was almost impossible to do anything right.
Eventually the firefighters and cop dispersed, and Maisy locked up the bakery. She handed Violet the house keys and told her to go on ahead and make herself at home while she picked up Isla.
After dumping her bags in the spare room and hitting the shower, Violet felt halfway human again.
As soon as she walked into the living room, Maisy gestured to the two glasses of wine she’d poured. Instead of choosing one, Violet waved her fingers in the classic gimme motion. “First things first. I’ve been waiting to snuggle my niece all day.”