Chapter Eight
VIOLET WATCHED HER son dig his fingers into the bucketful of dirt to fetch a live, wiggly worm out. He held it out toward her.
What did he want her to do with it?
There were a lot of things Violet was capable of, but piercing an innocent, squirmy worm onto a hook, just wasn’t one of them.
She waved her hand in front of her son, motioning for him to take the worm away. “I’m going to pass on baiting with a worm,” she told him.
Parker dropped his hand to his side. “Mom, you can’t pass. You have to bait your hook. We are fishing.” He said it like she wasn’t well aware of exactly what the four of them were doing on this yacht.
Parker was baiting his hook and trying to convince her to do the same. Sophia was choosing the fishing spot, using the fish finder at the wheel, with Ryder, who was steering the boat...without a shirt on...or a life jacket. His chest was still exposed and his hard, flexing muscles glistened under the sun like he had wiped himself down with tropical oil...and he smelled delicious. When Ryder passed Violet, the smell of a summer day lazing around at the beach lingered, as though he’d already spent the day sitting in the sand, splashing in the water and baking under the sun, meanwhile they’d only been on the boat for no longer than a half hour. A long, torturous, slow half hour that Violet wished would quicken and end. Violet wished her fingers had rubbed Ryder’s body with the oil.
Meow.
Violet kept her eyes hidden behind her dark sunglasses, because it was those thoughts that were going to get her in trouble. Especially when she was stealing glances at Ryder or staring. She was definitely staring.
“Here. Stop. This is the perfect location,” Sophia squealed and turned to face Violet and her brother. “Parker, check this out. There’s like a hundred fish right under us.”
As Ryder was idling the boat to stop, Violet sat back enjoying the view. His long, lean arms were in focused action, flexing under each movement. One hand turned the wheel, while the other pulled levers and hit buttons. This man knew his way around buttons.
He knows his way around my buttons.
Violet flushed. She was sure of it. Her face was as hot as the area between her thighs.
“Let me see.” Parker dropped the worm back in the styrofoam tub before darting away. Violet uncrossed her legs, and leaned forward, busying herself, snapping the lid back on the container and pushing away the innocent worms that were destined to doom this afternoon.
Her eyes fell on Ryder as he crossed the deck to drop the anchor. Bare-chested. Perfect tan line. Perfect muscles. Perfect playboy. Perfect playboy. Remember that the next time you heat up.
Violet tore her eyes away from Ryder’s body and back to her children. Parker and Sophia were all smiles, pointing at the screen, excited to drop their lines. They were her everything and she loved watching her son’s miserable tense body finally diminishing into an excitement over the cluster of neon fish on the screen.
“This is awesome,” Parker said.
His enthusiasm delighted Violet and in that moment she knew why she’d agreed to Ryder’s offer. The answer shot out of her mouth so quickly, without a second thought, she wondered if her decision was because she’d had Ryder on the brain all week. Her intelligence had a temporary mush moment, letting her emotions override her thoughts, her better judgement...and that was why she thought she’d said yes. Her emotions and her lust. In hindsight, now watching her son act like a kid, eliminating the growling bear she was growing accustomed to, Violet knew her quick, yes had been to avoid her son’s disappointment. Parker had been keen on this trip.
Joel might have shared custody of their kids, at her insistence, but he didn’t go out of his way to take them often, and rarely planned events. Violet loved her children. Although she and Joel had their differences, and his ulterior motive stung, Sophia and Parker were his children too, and they needed their dad.
Violet watched as Ryder was walking on the back swim platform. The sun radiated off his gold aviators, just as it did his perfect tan....were these same thoughts going to pop in her head every single time she looked at him? They were getting old.
While Violet was scolding herself, Ryder hopped over the stairs and walked across the deck, lowering his glasses and sending her a wink as her eyes followed. No self control...for either of them.
Violet’s breath caught in her chest as he slid the sunglasses back up his straight, narrow nose and continued past her.
Busted anyway, Violet proceeded to watch him, like every other Ryder-crazed woman did. He was probably used to it. Accustomed to the winking, and to using his charm and good looks to win women over, even the strong ones.
Violet was strong, but around Ryder, he stole her strength and replaced it with raw desire.
Raw desire?
But that wasn’t her only weakness when Ryder was present. She had thought evading him would eliminate the growing curiosity of figuring out who he really was. He was different in so many ways, but only one truly stuck out: the way he looked at her. Violet couldn’t decipher what the glimpses he stole were him trying to discover who she was, who she really was, or had he mastered the art of making a woman feel special.
Special? Was that how she felt? No. Special was what everyone, excluding her family, treated her like. Real was how Ryder treated her and real was new and intriguing.
Ryder was gathering the fishing poles, in a manner that told Violet he did this all the time.
When Violet’s kids, adorned in their life jackets, jumped into her view, excitedly grabbing their poles from Ryder, they reminded Violet that it didn’t matter what was behind Ryder’s facade because she was a mother.
A mother.
She couldn’t go around trying to decipher the meaning behind a man’s look. What if all he wanted was a fling? What if he wanted more? But how did a man like Ryder want more? And with Violet? It was very unlikely.
The stark reality was, Violet was not young and carefree like Izzy. Violet was a mother of two with responsibilities. There was no way Ryder would want to get involved with a mother. She was way out of Ryder’s league.
Maybe he’s out of my league.
Either way, Violet wished her motherly body was more covered up. The life jacket buckled around her upper torso gave minor coverage, but a nice long dress would be more suitable and comfortable. Violet wasn’t embarrassed by her body. In fact, after two children she prided herself on how good her body had bounced back thanks to a healthy diet and hitting the resort gym regularly. However, she wasn’t in her early twenties, like the women Joel told her Ryder took on boat trips.
Joel.
That selfish man was the reason Violet was on this boat in the first place, longing for a dress at the same time longing for Ryder’s hands to remove every last inch of her bathing suit. Those two thoughts were forcefully contradicting. She hadn’t remembered a time in her life when her thoughts were crashing as loudly as the waves hitting the side of the boat.
Parker sent Violet a straight stare as he pushed the closed styrofoam container toward her. “Come on Mom. Bait your hook. Dad always makes us do it ourselves and we are only kids.”
Kids are more adventurous. Kids take more risks. Kids are little worms that need guidance to keep away from getting snagged on a hook. Violet felt snagged on Ryder’s hook.
Parker turned with that and walked through the cockpit to join his sister at the stern of the boat. Violet wasn’t an overprotective mom, but she felt more secure with each of her children wearing a life jacket and standing on the other side of the bow rail to fish. The sharp little hooks on the end of their line had Violet holding her breath in anticipation of their casting the line. They both cautiously looked behind them, as they balanced their poles, before whipping the line through the air and letting it land in the water.
Violet wasn’t doing it. She knew that sounded childish, but she absolutely wasn’t sending an innocent fish flying through the air to it
s death.
She should have expected Joel to cancel and brought a book with her. Or her phone...anything to keep her mind occupied with something besides Ryder.
Violet lost sight of him now, watching her kids. That was good. Now she could stop following him around and he would stop following her around. Watching each other. Stealing glances. Winking and flushing.
Oh wow...they were acting like horny teenagers.
Violet hadn’t been a horny teenager. While attending a private school, then University, she’d been more concerned with her grades then boys. She also felt she’d sometimes missed out on certain aspects of public school life, which had been her reason for enrolling her kids in Willow Valley’s public school, against Robert’s wishes. But, if this feeling was what she’d been missing in school, maybe she better switch Sophia into private ASAP. It felt like dangerously, naughty fun that Violet could easily be swept into. And Violet Caliendo wasn’t easily swept into anything.
A can of corn popped into Violet’s vision, disrupting the image of Ryder playing in the background.
Violet jumped.
Ryder chuckled. He walked around her, the low waistline of his shorts hugging his slim hips, right at Violet’s eyes level.
Seriously? Yes, thank you.
He sat beside her. With a can opener, he twisted the lid off the can of corn and then passed her the full tin.
What did he want her to do with this? Cook it? Eat it?
Violet held the can, and sent him a questioning look.
His smile was toe melting and when he slid the sunglasses onto the top of his head, his bright blue eyes looked amused. “It’s to bait your hook,” he explained.
“Corn?”
“Definitely.” He reached to the ground, stretching his body and Violet bit her lower lip.
Why did he have to go stretch and reach and look so hot?
He picked up a fishing pole from the floor, running his hand down the invisible fishing line and stopping at the hook. She remembered the way his hands slid up her thighs and−
Ryder held the hook out to her.
Right, fishing. Bait the hook...with corn. Focus on fishing. Fishing, fishing, fishing...
Violet dipped her fingers into the corn and took out a few kernels. This she could handle, but she was still unsure whether he was pulling her leg or not. She’d never heard of fishing with corn. She wasn’t an avid fisherman.
When Violet grasped the hook, planning on taking it from Ryder’s hand, he didn’t move. He didn’t jerk away from her touch, like she wanted to from his sizzling skin. He didn’t even flinch.
Violet’s entire insides, on the other hand, were flinching and jerking like a dead fish. Ryder held the hook in position while she poked a few kernels on.
“Does this really work?” she asked.
Ryder nodded. “My mom was squirmy like you about fishing with worms. She absolutely refused to hurt a worm. Even though she cooked the fish we caught.” Ryder chuckled. “Explain that one. Anyway, my dad’s fishing gear always included a can of corn for her.”
Violet watched a genuine smile form on Ryder’s lips while he spoke of his parents. His mother, Kathleen, had passed away years ago. The Carlex’s were not locals in Willow Valley. They were among the many summer vacationers. Mrs. Carlex had attended several of the exquisite, over-the-top galas Eliza hosted and that Violet and Emma had planned. The more elaborate the decor, the more enticed the guests were to open their chequebooks and donate for the fun night prepared for them. Like the Fright Fest.
Violet hadn’t noticed Ryder’s tense shoulders all day, but the more he talked, the thick, hard hills began to relax...he began to relax. This was a new side to Ryder, a softer side with traces of affection, real affection. It was something Violet had never witnessed from him.
As he continued to talk, Ryder took the hook from Violet, loading it with corn. “My dad didn’t raise the faint of heart. I fish with worms.” He shrugged. “I guess I just like to bring a can of corn on board to remind me of my mom.”
Violet leaned back against the cushion, enjoying Ryder’s stories and the way he changed as he told them.
“When I was young, she never missed a fishing trip with just me and my dad. You remember my mom, she was always dressed over the top, her clothes and her make-up.”
Yes, Mrs. Carlex wore fancy, glittering outfits and more makeup then all Violet’s sisters combined. But her filled-in eyebrows, red lipstick and waves of black pinned up hair gave her a fifties look, like a sophisticated pin-up girl.
“But when she boarded the boat, all that was stripped away. Those trips were my favorite. When it was just the three of us and my dad didn’t bring his work on board and we just fished and laughed.”
Ryder was completely lost in his thoughts, and his smile told Violet he was reliving the memories he was sharing in deeper depth.
“I guess having a can of corn is like she’s here with me,” Ryder added and if Violet hadn’t already contemplated there was more to Ryder than she knew, that comment would have easily altered her mind. Now, it convinced her there was more than he let people see and he’d let her in.
Ryder looked at Violet abruptly. As he took her in, she watched the happiness erase and darkness shadow his eyes. His face tightened, like he forgot who he was talking to. Violet Caliendo. Joel’s ex-wife.
Ryder suddenly shut down from Violet, the way she recognized and had mastered herself. To be honest, it didn’t feel nice to be on the other side of this door.
“Anyway, here you go,” he finished up and handed her the pole.
When she took it, he made sure their hands did not touch, did not graze and he did not send her a wink, smile or even the slightest grin. His attention had turned back solely to digging a worm out for his own bait.
Violet stood up with her pole, not exactly sure what she was supposed to do with it.
How hard was it to throw the line in the water? Her children could do it...but her children went fishing more than she did.
Violet didn’t like the rising wrench in her gut that Ryder didn’t want to talk to her. Was he embarrassed? Or was it because of who she was?
“Ryder?” she said, standing in front of him and looking down at his hunched over, tensed shoulders.
Ryder looked up and their eyes locked...for a long moment. The same way they locked in the lobby bathroom at the resort. The same way they locked on the dock only a short hour earlier. It was a simple lock-down of everything in their region. They just stared at each other.
Why? Why did this keep happening to them? Why was she attracted to him? Why was he attracted to her?
It had to be the sex...the sex was good...real good.
But Violet knew differently.
This stare was deeper, she could feel it. The attraction was there and the lust was like lava bubbling into the surface of a volcano between them, but at the very moment, it felt like each of them was ineffectively attempting to figure out the other.
What do you want from me? What do I want from you? Was there really anything possible between them?
Violet had to break the contact. She dropped her eyes to the floor and took a deep breath. Yes, she took a deep breath in front of Ryder. She had to get her boundaries collected. Everything about them screamed no. She was a mother, he was a traveler. She had sworn off falling in love and him...he probably didn’t even know what love was. And you do?
Violet forced herself to look back at Ryder and found his eyes hadn’t strayed like hers. He was, no doubt, trying to determine why hers had moved in the first place. Because you drive me hot and wild and thinking about love. Love? Love!
Violet needed distance. Now.
“It is very sweet of you Ryder, to bring along a reminder of your mom,” she said. “Even if it seems silly, like a can of corn. It shows how much she meant to you. The way you talk about her is beautiful.”
Violet smiled.
She wanted to reach
out and touch his hand, but thought better of it.
Would he touch her back? Would he rise to his feet and kiss her? Did men actually do things like that? Just rise to their feet and kiss someone because of a look passing between them?
It sounded like horny teenagers again. She wanted him to act like a horny teenager, but knew she couldn’t.
Violet walked to her children, ruffling Parker’s hair and kissing the top of Sophia’s head. They smelled like coconut from a nice coating of the all-natural sun block she’d purchased at the Old Town Soap Store that Kate’s sisters had opened last year.
“How are you two doing?” Violet asked.
“Nothing yet,” Parker said and his tone lacked disappointment. Then he added. “But with fishing you need patience. You have to wait for the fish to bite. It could take hours, or it could take only minutes. Sometimes when we fish, we don’t catch any fish.”
Violet held her lure out between her kids. “I have corn,” she said, watching both heads turn, laugh and tease their mom. She loved these two.
Violet being the amateur fisherman she was, moved to the rear of the boat.
She passed Ryder, but didn’t look at him. If she had a book, she’d sprawl out across one of the loungers and escape to a world written without Ryder. Sprawling across the lounger and Ryder in the same thought caused her neck to break out in a sweat.
Violet climbed on the swim platform and balanced the pole behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure the hook wasn’t near anything, than aimed in the water, a guideline she was sure she wouldn’t get anywhere close, and swung the pole above her head...just like she’d watched Parker and Sophia do.
The baited hook dangled in the air directly in front of her, nowhere near the water.
What had she done wrong?
She did it again and ended up with the same result.
Well, this was ridiculous.
Violet had a broken pole. Sunbathing and reading were looking better by the second. Ryder had given her a broken pole and left her only two options. She could stand here and stare out at the water until lunch or she was going to have to face Ryder again.
Violet turned.
She caught Ryder leaning against the side of the boat behind her. His legs were crossed at his ankles and his arms crossed covering his chest...good because that gave her eyes a reason to find his.
Ryder was smirking at her, obviously entertained by her attempt to fish with a broken pole, that he’d given her. Had he known the pole was broken? The grin on his face sure said he did.
Violet mustered up the words to talk to him. “I have a broken pole,” she stated and his widened smirk made her wonder exactly what he knew that she didn’t.