“You do?”
“Yes, I do.” My sister blows out a breath, and I instinctually do the same. “Give me a couple of days, but I have an idea that could work. In the meantime, just relax. We will figure this out.”
Relax, she says.Sure, why didn’t I think of that? I do appreciate her trying to come up with a solution, though, even if her advice is kind of…not great. Violet and I may have our differences, and she may get on my last nerve sometimes, but I know when I truly need her, she’ll be there for me and do what she can to help. I guess that’s the perk of being a whole fifteen minutes older than me.
“Thanks, Violet,” I murmur, plopping down on the couch again.
“You’re welcome.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “I gotta get back to work, but I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Okay, love you.”
“Love you, too.”
The line disconnects, and then I’m left with my own thoughts. Even though she may have a plan, I feel like, no matter what, I’ll have to move back to Wolf Creek, and that alone is enough to make it impossible to relax like she ordered. I love living in the city. Love being within walking distance to almost everything I could possibly need. And I hated living in a small town.
Not only that, but mine and Violet’s relationship has gotten a lot better since we don’t live in the same place. What if I move back and the resentment I felt toward her as a teenager comes rushing to the surface? I’ve worked so hard to get over everything, and the last thing I need—maybe only slightly below being homeless—is to fall back into old habits and feelings again.
Although, I might not have a choice.
Chapter 3
Finn
“How was the rest of your week?” My girlfriend, Violet, asks as she takes a seat on the couch beside me. “I feel like I haven’t talked to you much the last few days.”
“I’ve got a lot on my plate right now,” I reply, scrubbing a hand along the scruff covering my jaw.
Violet scoots closer, placing her hand on my thigh. It’s something she does a lot, and normally it doesn’t bother me, but right now it does. Probably because I’m still stressed to the max about finding a new nanny. Cassie’s last day was yesterday, and she’s already moved all her stuff out of the bedroom she’s occupied for three years.
Breaking the news to Tucker was depressing. I’ve never seen him so heartbroken. I’ve put out some feelers around town about hiring a new nanny, but so far, it’s been crickets. Next week ought to be fun. I’ll have to bring Tucker with me and hope for the best. It’ll work temporarily, but it’s definitely not a long-term solution. I’ve got to find someone fast.
Shaking my head from those thoughts, I glance over at Violet, finding her already watching me. “I’m sorry,” I offer. “This week hasn’t been the greatest, but I don’t mean to take it out on you. How was your week?”
“No need to apologize,” she says, tilting her head to the side as she smiles at me. “My week has been mostly uneventful, aside from Mr. Thompson bringing Edgar in yesterday.”
“His goat?”
“Yup.” She giggles. “He ripped open a bag of feed to feast on before leaving behind a trail of poo pellets as he left the aisle.”
“Shit.” I chuckle, the mental image hilarious, but not surprising. Edgar has got to be one of the most ornery goats I’ve ever met.
“It was quite the spectacle,” Violet adds. “But other than that, it’s been a pretty regular week.” As if knowing exactly where my mind’s at tonight, Violet asks, “Any news on the nanny front?”
“Nope.”
I feel bad because I’m being short with her, even more than usual, but I’m just not in a chatty mood. My stress levels are sky high, and the last thing I want to do is gab about it with her. That’s not going to fix anything. I should’ve canceled our plans tonight.
Her hand squeezes my thigh. “Well, I may have an idea.”
Turning my head, I meet her gaze. Eyes ocean blue and surrounded by a thick bed of long, dark lashes stare back at me. “And what would that be?”
Violet’s full, pink lips curl into a grin as she stands up. “Before I tell you, how about I pour us both a drink?”
I huff out a laugh. “Well, alright. I’m not going to say no to that.”
Walking over to the dry bar in the far corner of the living room, she pulls out a snifter glass for my bourbon before grabbing one of the hard seltzers from the mini fridge for her.After she pours three fingers of Foxx Bourbon into my glass, she saunters back over to me, handing me my drink before taking her place beside me again.
“Thank you,” I offer, tipping my chin. “Now, out with it.”
