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  He picked up his phone, turning it over and over in his hands as he hoped to God he wasn’t wrong about Tommy. The lawyer/drinking buddy and only classmate he’d managed to stay in touch with after college had been the one to reach out to Ben while he lay on the hot sand in the Bahamas, contemplating leaving Elena the condo and moving back in with his parents to start over. Tommy had begun representing Ben without a retainer and kept him in the loop constantly. He appreciated Tommy, more than he could ever express, for lighting a fire under his ass and getting him to come home and fight. But now, for the first time in weeks, he felt a small twinge of doubt where his lawyer and longtime bud was concerned.

  Yeah, his guard was up further and, taking Tommy’s advice, he’d be careful going forward—with everyone. Besides, he didn’t want Violet getting involved in a mess that was only getting uglier. It was on that train of thought that he finally swiped his fingers across the screen of his Galaxy S5 to call maintenance for the lock change.

  Glad that he’d at least taken care of one thing today, he returned to his bedroom, planning to wrap his arms around Violet and stay in bed for another few hours. What he found was the glamazon baker sitting up in his California king, his white V-neck undershirt clinging to her killer curves. Her olive-skinned gams were drawn to her chest, and her arms were wrapped around them. She’d taken her hair out of the messy ponytail she’d had sitting at the top of her head, and her unruly raven curls now cascaded down her back and over her shoulders. She gave him a sleepy smile, and he grinned at her sheepishly.

  “Our first sleepover.” He chuckled.

  Violet blushed; she let out a whisper of a giggle and lowered her head onto her knees. “It was fun,” she murmured.

  “Would you like some breakfast?” he offered. “I’m a pretty decent cook, but I bet I can bribe my sister into making some of the best French toast you’ve ever had.”

  Violet looked up with a grin, stretching her long legs out before turning to let them hang off the bed. “That sounds amazing, but I do have to go. Baking day, remember?”

  “That’s right, baking day. If you’re still up for company, I can be over in a few hours.”

  Violet stood thoughtfully, allowing herself a stretch that revealed enough of her boy shorts to make his heart race. “Are you up for it?”

  Ben raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean? Of course I’m up for it.”

  Violet tilted her head to one side, folding her arms behind her. “Look, I heard some of that phone conversation. It sounds like Elena’s giving you more than you’re bargaining for. I mean, changing locks, going through a divorce—it’s all trying, and I get it. Are you sure you want to start something new?”

  He approached her carefully, wrapping his arms around her waist as he took a deep breath. “Look, Vi, I may be working some things out, but I want to look toward the future. These last two days have been interesting, and I feel like if we just take things one day at a time, we might be all right.”

  He searched her expression for traces of doubt. The fear that he was actively destroying any hope of falling in love without realizing it threatened to consume him. “Are you having second thoughts?”

  Violet smiled up at him warmly. “No, I’m really not. But my last relationship nearly destroyed me. I like you a lot, Ben, and I would hate for you to end up resenting me for jumping from one relationship to another with no real healing time in between. Even worse, I’d hate to end up being a rebound with all that’s happened between us in the last couple of days and … Oh my God—am I a rebound?”

  “No, no,” Ben assured her. “I’m too old for rebounds.”

  And as fast as he wondered if she was having second thoughts, he was hit with his own. His mouth said he was too old for rebounds, but Ben couldn’t help but wonder—was that what this was? Could he have been a rebound of sorts for her? He felt like he’d had sufficient time to heal on that quiet expanse of beach in the Bahamas, but was it enough? They were questions he wanted to bring out in the open; he wanted to be straight with her, but he was concerned that blunt honesty would make her walk out faster than you could say cupcake.

  Violet wrapped her arms around his waist and snuggled into him. “I hope so. I’m sorry you’re going through this, Ben.”

  Without another word, he tucked one finger under her chin, lifting her face to his as he leaned down for a kiss. Violet’s eyes fluttered closed. Their lips had barely touched when there was a knock on the door. Ben let out a frustrated groan and pressed his forehead against Violet’s shoulder; she laughed loudly and wrapped her arms around his neck in response.

  Lisa’s voice was loud and clear from behind the door. “All right, bunnies. I’m going downstairs for breakfast—I’ll bring you guys some Gatorade!”

  “Get the hell out of here, Lisa!” he called out.

  Lisa let out a boisterous laugh, followed by footsteps and the opening and closing of his front door as it echoed down the hallway. That was the cue for Ben to begin sampling Violet’s soft flesh with the tip of his tongue. He tightened his grip around her waist, lifting her off the ground and inciting another delighted giggle.

  She tried halfheartedly, playfully, to wriggle out of his grasp. “Ben, stop! She is coming back, you know.”

  He lowered her onto the bed gently, his muscles flexing as he positioned himself over her. “If she knows what’s good for her, she won’t be back for at least a half an hour.”

  It wasn’t long before her legs were once again wrapped around his back, his hips grinding against her as his member filled her again and again, slowly, deeply, perfectly …

  • • •

  Violet arrived home a few hours later, sufficiently full from an amazing breakfast and a little sore from the half hour of bliss in Ben’s bedroom. Slow, deep strokes had given way to a superb pounding, drawing guttural groans she wouldn’t soon forget. She sighed softly as she went weak in the knees thinking about Ben turning her over and claiming her doggy style. It had never been that good with anyone.

  A nervous energy took over as she left the elevator, walking to her door with a spring in her step. Her door was in her sights when she stopped short, a dreadful sinking feeling sweeping over her as her gaze dropped to the doormat.

  A bundle of grocery-store roses stood there, balanced against her door. A card was pinned to the floral paper and, without opening it, she knew they weren’t from Ben. She looked behind her, a little frightened by the prospect that he might still be in the building. What frightened her more was that she hadn’t given him this address.

  Carefully, she tugged the card off the paper wrapped around the bouquet. She frowned as she read the card, her fears confirmed as she immediately recognized the untidy scrawl.

  I am sorry for whatever I did and still do love you. I made a lot of mistakes in my life, the biggest when I hurt you. Please call and let me try again. 718-555-2413. xoxo, S.

  Violet took a steadying breath before picking up the bouquet of flowers and tossing them in the building’s trash chute across from the elevator. The card she kept, angrily staring at it as she walked back to her front door. Who did he think he was? She could only deduct that he’d followed her home, and it made her angry and scared at the same time. How many times would she have to say no before he took the hint? Feeling violated, she tore up the card into as many pieces as she could with trembling fingers and dropped it on her welcome mat. If Steve came back, she hoped that would be the first thing he saw.

  Trying to continue with the rest of her afternoon as if nothing had happened, she turned her living room stereo on as loud as it would go before heading into the kitchen to begin a few hours of baking. She wasn’t going to let Steve get to her. And she really was an idiot for agreeing to have dinner with him in the first place. She’d said yes because she wanted to know why; she wanted answers and an explanation for how he’d treated her. And, truth be told, an apology would have been great. But she never had any intention of letting anything else happen—he obviously
thought differently. She picked up her cordless phone, tempted to call Steve and give him a piece of her mind. But the anxiety that ripped through her as she realized that she’d already opened up a huge can of worms made her stomach turn, so she decided against it. Still clutching the phone, she hightailed it for the bathroom. With tears in her eyes, she bent over the sink and threw up, her phone falling to the floor with a loud clatter as her nerves got the best of her.

  The phone rang as she sat on the cold bathroom tile, trying to pull herself together. Violet let out a groan as the caller ID read Ben’s name; she wiped her mouth and took a couple of deep breaths before answering.

  She did her best to control the tremble in her voice. “Hi there.”

  “Vi, come back.”

  She closed her eyes, the playfulness in his voice bringing instant relief. “I can’t. I’ve already got the oven on.”

  “Oh, all right,” he acquiesced with a sincere chuckle. “I’m still coming by, but it’s going to be a little later than I planned. I really need to have a chat with Tommy about the divorce case. Is that okay?”

  “Oh, sure,” she answered, her eyes shooting open. Damn, that shredded card was still scattered at her front door, waiting to serve as a clear message of rejection when Steve reappeared in her building again. “In fact, how about we just save you coming over for another day? I don’t want you to feel like you have to rush.”

  “It’s not like I’m going into a conference or anything; he’s just updating me. I’m also going to—and try not to be too creeped out here—well, I’m telling him about you.”

  She couldn’t help but smile. “About me?”

  “Yes. I’m telling him about us, because as my lawyer he needs to know.”

  Her stomach churned again. “So there’s an us?”

  “There might be.”

  Us. The last “us” she was a part of just overstepped social boundaries and left flowers at her door when she’d already made it clear that she was seeing someone else and wanted nothing to do with him. So far, she and Ben had only had a date and a couple of heated trysts; thinking of the two of them as “us” was a lot for Violet to absorb, especially with Steve trying to make a return into her life.

  “Vi, are you there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here,” she answered. She could almost hear the sound of metal walls slamming down around her as she shut him out. “I’m not actually feeling good.”

  “Oh, that sucks. Feeling gross?”

  “Feeling tired,” she said, feigning a playful tone. “You wore me out.”

  “If you’re trying to give my ego a boost, you’re doing a great job.”

  “I try,” she replied, forcing herself to get to her feet. “All right, hun, I’ve got eggs to crack.”

  He sighed. “Get back in my arms soon.”

  Her eyes closed involuntarily, her body betraying her as it took brief solace in his last statement even though her stomach was sick from the pressure the last few minutes had put on her.

  “You bet your ass I will,” she replied softly.

  After the call ended, Violet glanced at her reflection in the mirror; a little pale thanks to the nervous tummy quake, she knew that if she got rid of Steve once, she could do it again. And Ben, who was already going through his own drama with Elena, didn’t have to know. Things were complicated enough between them; he didn’t need the drama of another ex. And this time, she was fairly confident she was strong enough to get Steve out of her life on her own.

  Nine

  Ella sat on the windowsill in Violet’s bedroom the next day with her eyes wide, hanging on to her best friend’s every word, the cake Violet had made for her forgotten.

  “So you’re sure that your mom didn’t talk to Steve?”

  “She said he hasn’t reached out to her at all,” Violet said from behind her closet door as she leafed through her clothes. “I mean, why would she lie, especially considering how we broke up in the first place?”

  “Well, how did he figure out where you live?”

  Violet paused briefly before closing the closet door, a shirt draped over her arm. “I think he followed me home from the bakery.”

  Ella’s jaw dropped as she leaned over and took the shirt. “Oh, no. You don’t think he’s taking it back to when … ?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m thinking,” Violet answered. “And if he’s starting again, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I can’t go through this again.”

  “I hate to say this, but you kind of started it.”

  “No, you’re right,” Violet agreed with a sigh. “I shouldn’t have agreed to have dinner with him in the first place.”

  “You never did tell me why you had that major brain fart, you know.”

  Violet chuckled in spite of herself. “Promise you won’t get mad or laugh.”

  Ella was already smiling. “I’m listening, not promising.”

  “All right, fine. Here’s the thing—it’s complicated. I know it seems like I did it out of spite, but I wanted to hear him say he was wrong. I wanted to know why he treated me the way he did.”

  Ella made a noise that sounded like a mixture of a frustrated groan and a laugh. She placed her hands over her face. “And there it is—women and our quest for why. I’m telling you it’s going to be the thing that dooms us as a gender.”

  “I didn’t say I had a great reason.”

  “You’re hopeless. Does Ben know what’s going on?”

  Violet shook her head. “Ben’s got enough going on with his ex; he doesn’t need my added drama.”

  “Vi, you’ve gotta say something, especially if Steve gets out of hand again. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to have Ben at your side.”

  Violet sucked her teeth in frustration. “I’m a big girl, Ella—I can handle my own messes! I don’t need a hero.”

  Ella pinched the bridge of her nose. “This is exactly how you acted last time, and it almost got you hurt. You know, Vi, sometimes it’s okay to need somebody.”

  Violet tilted her head to one side as she considered the point. Yeah, she was quick to go on the defensive when anyone suggested she ask for help. She also knew her current attitude linked directly to the fallout from her time with Steve. And since then, Violet hadn’t been in the market for vulnerability, because she saw what happened to people who put their trust in the wrong people. But the pleading look on Ella’s face was enough to at least make her think about it.

  “I hear you, Ell. Once things settle down for him, I’ll say something. For now, I’ll just have to handle it.”

  • • •

  Later that night, hours after managing to make it to bed at a reasonable hour for the first time since Ben had swept her off her feet, her doorbell buzzed. The noise that reverberated through the apartment frightened Violet out of bed as she tried to get her wits about her.

  She turned full circle in the darkness, disoriented. “What the … ?”

  The buzzer sounded a second time, and her heart pounded wildly. Who the hell could be downstairs trying to get into the building? It was probably a drunken college student looking to aggravate a building full of people just trying to get some rest. So she lay back down and tried to make her racing heart slow enough to get her back into dreamland.

  She had just begun to slip into another peaceful slumber when a loud thumping sound yanked her awake. Violet sat straight up in bed, an involuntary gasp escaping her lips as she clasped her hand to her chest. She stared into the darkness, an immediate feeling of dread washing over her as she tried to figure out how much time had passed. She tried to slow her breathing, but couldn’t shake the feeling that she was in danger. The thumping noise came again, and this time she was able to pinpoint its location. She stood and walked quietly and carefully out of her bedroom, down the hall, and into the living room as she willed her eyes to adjust to the darkness.

  One more time, the series of thumps sounded. Someone was knocking. She looked into the kitchen at the microwave clock.
Three in the morning! This time the knock was followed by someone whispering her name.

  Violet could’ve sworn she felt her heart stop. She inched toward the door slowly, trying to avoid even taking a breath. Another light scrape came from the other side; her imagination ran wild as she pictured an insane axe murderer on the other side, picking at the door’s lock with his hook hand. Cautiously, she inched to the door and gently lifted the peephole. As her heart threatened to burst straight through her chest, she prayed the unannounced visitor wouldn’t see her peeking out.

  It was Steve. Violet’s body slumped. Frustration and anger bubbled up inside of her—she might have been more prepared to deal with the axe murderer. Her ex was staring at a point somewhere below the peephole, and his eyes were glassy. Great, and he’s drunk. What was he capable of now that he was three sheets to the wind? He leaned forward and knocked again; she sprang back, managing to avoid making a sound as the peephole slid closed.

  She took a few steps backward, away from the entrance, afraid to take her eyes off the door. She allowed herself a silent prayer as she turned toward the back of the apartment, asking her door to just stay solid and shut at least until morning. In her bedroom, she heard her phone buzz against her solid oak end table. Her hair flew as she glanced toward the front door, wildly hoping Steve didn’t hear it. Once she reached the safety of her bedroom, she locked the door and extended her arms as she began to feel her way to the bed. Violet considered, just for a moment, calling Ben. Instead, she reached into her nightstand and pulled out a container of pepper spray—just in case. She laid in bed with her eyes closed after that, knowing full well that sleep would not be coming any time soon.