Naked (31 page)

“What brought this on?”

Noah had had every intention last night of walking away from Violet. But just as her mother had said, life had a way of ruining your best laid plans.

He didn’t want to walk away from her. It made him all kinds of an asshole, but when she’d extended her hand, practically offering herself to him, he couldn’t tamp down the overwhelming need to mark her. Claim her. Fuck the memory of that doctor right out of her mind.

Because last night she had chosen him. For all his insecurities about her not being comfortable with his profession, she’d proven last night that she didn’t care that he worked with his hands. She was particularly fond of his hands, especially when they were on her body.

Most important, her willingness to take a chance had inspired him. In the past, he’d shoved aside everything he liked about working for a large corporation: camaraderie, flexibility, the constant change in workday duties, and contributing to the city at large. He loved all of those things, things he’d never get working for himself. But until last night, he’d never given himself the chance to truly embrace it.

“Is it a possibility?” He was being short. He knew it, but he was on a mission. Working for Walker Industries would do wonders for his chance at moving up the food chain and pumicing some of the roughness off his hands.

“Of course.” Lewis held up his hands. “You’ve just been noncommittal about it. I’m making sure this is what you want.”

The small space was hardly soundproof and Noah’s thoughts were interrupted by the beeping of a truck outside the trailer.

“I’m ready. I don’t want to go into business for myself after all.”

Like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, he sat up straighter in his chair. It was the first time he’d said that out loud. He’d been flip-flopping on his future for years.

That he wanted to step up his game in the career department wasn’t the only realization he’d had last night. In every other relationship he’d loved, but he was never needed. He gave everything—his time, his money, his affection. But it was in vain.

Enter Violet, and the more she came to him wanting to become someone different, the more it became apparent that she needed him. Not because she was helpless, but because they were two puzzle pieces that fit together. He was the other half of her whole, as she was his.

For the last five years he’d believed that his chosen profession was subpar in comparison to others. Not everyone understood the beauty in being able to create something with your hands or the satisfaction that came from taking a boring piece of wood and making it into a hand-carved cabinet. But Violet did. Her entire career, her family legacy, was built on the beauty of creating something from nothing; in building something that contributed to the city and its residents.

Noah’s sisters were entrepreneurs, but that had never been his dream. Unfortunately, it made him feel like he was dishonoring his father’s memory.

“Ward was on board with discussing future opportunities for you.” Lewis took another sip of his coffee. “Before I promise you anything, I just need to make sure that Violet is on board, too.”

“I was actually thinking about using your connections at other firms and not bringing Violet into it.”

He didn’t want her knowing he was trying to secure permanent employment. He didn’t want her help.

Lewis looked surprisingly calm at his revelation. “Let’s not jump the gun. Violet might have acted a little out of character that day she came to the site but—”

“It’s not that. I just think it best if I explored other opportunities.”

Working together,
for
her, might not be the best for their relationship. Exploring opportunities at other firms would guarantee that no one questioned his skills and they wouldn’t have to defend their relationship. “All right.” Lewis stood and picked up his hard hat. “Let me see what I can do.” He gathered up some blueprints and placed them into a plastic cylinder to take with him. “How are the renovations going at home?”

Lewis had offered to help with the renovations if he’d needed it. While he appreciated the offer, he didn’t want to take away time from Lewis’s family.

“It’s coming along. I’m really pleased with the results.”

He was more than pleased. His mother was going to love the house. And he couldn’t wait until the party. He couldn’t wait to see the look on her face.

“Well, you did learn from the best.” Lewis grinned, because he was talking about himself.

“Yes.” Noah laughed as he stood. “I had a great teacher.” He extended his hand to Lewis in parting. “I’m done for the day. Not back until Monday.” His schedule had been a dream lately and he had the next couple of days off. He was excited to spend more time with Violet. “Call me if something comes up.”

With a nod, Noah left the trailer and made his way to his truck. It was early enough that the traffic wasn’t too bad going home and he made it in record time. Forty-five minutes door-to-door.

Stepping out of his truck, he took in his surroundings. The neighborhood and house brought back a lot of memories. Good memories.

Walking inside, he threw his cooler on the kitchen counter and headed to his bedroom. He stripped, throwing his dirty clothes into the hamper. He walked naked to the bathroom and fiddled with the water, getting it the perfect temperature.

He remembered the day Paige had lost her front tooth and they’d chuckled about her appearance in this very mirror. Or the time Charlotte thought it was a good idea to flush an entire roll of paper towel down the toilet. The carpet had been wet for days.

They’d had a lot of great memories in this house, and he’d hated having to move to a new place, to a new school, but if they hadn’t moved he never would have met Luke.

Sometimes he wondered if his father had sent Luke from beyond the grave. Someone to keep him company, to be his perfect pair.

He stepped into the shower and the hot water was soothing to his aching muscles. Although he no longer had to do as much manual labor now that he was associate foreman, he still helped the guys out. If he sat on his ass all day and supervised, he wasn’t going to gain anyone’s respect.

He washed himself, thinking about Violet. Of his future. Of the possibility of a future for them together. One thing he knew for sure was that in a few hours Violet would be home and his world would feel right again.

She had somehow managed to infiltrate the sacred circle of people he needed in his life.

The warning bells with her had been going off in his head since the day they’d met. He knew she was still hiding part of her story. But he was willing to take the risk.

She might still have secrets. She might still have a wall up between them. But one day she’d be ready, and when that wall crumbled, he would be there to pick up the pieces.

—

At the sound of her mother chattering in the background, Violet came to the conclusion that she might have fallen down a dark chasm into hell.

Horrific fluorescent lights. Check.

Overwhelming heat from said horrific fluorescent lights. Check.

Her reflection in the mirror and shopping for a dress with her mother. Check. Check.

“Violet, dear. I need you to try on something with more pizzazz.” Her mother chattered between her and the clerk at King Boutique; the high-end department store owned by Roxy’s family. It was the only place she bought her clothes.

Loyalty was one reason. But also because Roxy had the best eye for fashion she’d ever encountered and often bought exclusive rights to clothing simply because she thought the garment would look good on Violet.

Listening to her mother natter on with the salesgirl, Violet wondered how she’d gotten roped into this. It started with lunch, which she agreed to every once in a while because she needed to throw her mother a bone. It was the right thing to do.

But dress shopping for the Toronto Women’s Entrepreneurial Association gala? What had she been thinking? She was having a difficult time finding something that covered her scars.

She’d cut it close a couple of times already when her mother had barged in without notice. She’d managed to cover up quickly enough, but it got her thinking…Maybe she shouldn’t be hiding. If Harper had taught her anything, it was that the people who loved her most would understand. Roxy had understood. Had barely blinked when she revealed her scars. And this was her mother. If there was one person in the world who was supposed to accept her, flaws and all, it was her mother.

With a deep, courage-filled breath, Violet decided to take a risk.

“Mom, I need to show you something.”

Her mother might already know about her scars. It had occurred to her that Patrick might have spilled the beans during his probably numerous talks with her mother. But something this big would have triggered a conversation, one where her mother demanded an explanation and proof.

The fact that she flitted around this store obliviously meant she was completely in the dark.

“How did it go with Patrick Wharton, dear? I invited him to the party for you.” She talked from outside the dressing room. “He’s a doctor at Sick Kids hospital. An oncologist. For children.” Her voice went up ten octaves. “Imagine the—” She stopped short when she pulled the curtain back, her words cut off as her jaw dropped.

Silence hung between them and tension tightened in Violet’s stomach. Harper had been quick to respond. So had Roxy, but her mother…

Simply stared.

“Mom…?” Violet stood in just her bra. Her complete torso was bare from the waist up where the last dress she’d tried on was gathered around her waist.

Her mother pressed her hand against her mouth and to Violet’s surprise, tears welled in Bridget’s eyes.

“Violet.” Her mother scrambled to shut the curtain behind her. Despite her care, Violet wasn’t sure if the gesture was for Violet’s modesty or her embarrassment.

When she turned to look at her mother again, one lone tear dropped down Bridget’s cheek. “Why have you never…How has this…You’ve been hiding this all along?”

She nodded.

Bridget reached out and gently traced the largest scar until she reached her cheek, cupping her hand against Violet’s face. Maybe Harper was right. Maybe Violet was too hard on people, not giving them enough credit.

“This explains the scarves.” Her mother half smiled. “I thought you were going through a phase.”

When she stepped back, taking her hand with her, Violet shrugged out of the dress and sat on the round velvet ottoman in just her bra and panties.

“Why didn’t you tell me? This is something you share with your mother.” She sat beside her, taking Violet’s hand. “So we can talk about it. Figure out a plan.”

Violet was sure that “elation” was the word to describe the feeling fluttering in her chest. This was going so much better than she’d expected. She wrapped her arm around her mother’s shoulders and hugged her tight, hoping that she’d know exactly what she was feeling, what she’d always felt, but was just too uncomfortable to say.

“I know this must be devastating. It changes your future.”

She got it. Her mother knew exactly what she’d been thinking, what she’d feared.

“This doesn’t change who you are, dear. You’re a Walker.”

Violet began to cry. At first it was a stifled whimper, but when her mother brushed the back of her hair, just like her father always did, it came out a blubbering sob.

“Why are you crying? Are you upset no one will want to marry you?”

“What?” Violet’s stomach dropped. She wiped two fingers across her cheek.

“Don’t you worry, dear.” Her mother patted her hand. “We’ll find you a suitable husband. We’ll just have to postpone dating for a little while. I’m sure there are laser treatments that can get rid of those hideous marks. We’ll spare no expense.”

He mother stood, determination in her eyes.

But Violet stared in shock at the complete stranger standing in front of her. “A husband?”

What had just happened? Here she was, exposing her insecurities, and all her mother cared about was getting her married off. Her tears were not for the tragic alteration of her body. No. They were for the death of her beauty. The death of her diminished pool of suitors.

She slumped forward, forgetting about her modesty. Forgetting that her scars were exposed. Because right now, her scars were the least of her worries. Right now, her emotional well-being had just been stomped on. Her mother had just confirmed her worst nightmare. That she was only a pretty face. That without her beauty, without her confidence in her appearance, she was substandard.

“Yes, a husband.” Her mother pursed her bright red lips. “You need
someone
to help you wade through Walker Industries.”

Help? Anger whipped through her like a freight train. She did not need anyone’s help, let alone a man’s.

“I do
not
need a husband,” she yelled, despite being in a crowded department store.

“Violet…” Her mother waved off her comment as if it was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. “You don’t want to end up alone, do you?”

Who was this person? This wasn’t her mother. The woman who had always stood by her decisions. The woman who’d brushed her hair every night before she went to bed. It definitely wasn’t the same woman who’d given her the birds and bees talk, with props.

“I do not
need
a husband.” She sucked in a shaky breath. “I
want
a husband, but I don’t need one. There’s a big difference, Mom.”

Insecurity racked her brain. Was she ever going to find a man who’d love her, scars and all? Based on Patrick’s reaction, she highly doubted it.

“Walker Industries is mine.” She jerked her thumb toward her chest. “Husband or not.” Despite being in just her bra and panties, she crowded her mother against the curtain. “I know you don’t like it, but right now, it comes first.”

Her always put-together mother didn’t look so put-together at his moment, her hands shaking at her sides. “Violet, I don’t think—”

Violet held up her hand to stop her from digging an even deeper hole.

“That residential project is my chance to make this company my own. And I will succeed. I will do everything in my power to get it done.”