Page 78 of Coming Up Roses
Violet dips in and out of the conversation as she flits between the kitchen and dining room and when I hear heavy footsteps in the hallway I turn expectantly for the door.
But it’s not Flynn who steps through.
The guy is tall and solidly built. He’s wearing tidy, dark wash jeans and a charcoal grey button up shirt, the sleeves rolled to the elbows. His hair is dark blond and short. He probably shaves it himself over his bathroom sink.
Clear hazel eyes scan the room, assessing each of us.
“He’s not here, is he?” the guy asks, his tone gruff.
Violet releases a soft sigh. “Not yet,” she says, voice gentle.
“Hunt’s here!” Katie—who I hadn’t even noticed wasn’t in the dining room when this guy arrived—yelps as she steps back into the room. She grins at him, but he simply glares back at her.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Okay, apologies.” She doesn’t sound the slightest bit apologetic and the smirk on her face confirms it. “Hunter,” she says, dragging out his name with plenty of emphasis on the ‘r’. “This is Abi. Abi, this is Hunter.” Hunter, as in Flynn’s brother? “Flynn’s grumpy-as-shit big brother.”
“Hi,” I say, suddenly nervous. This is Flynn’s only family and he seems less than impressed as his gaze skims over me. He jerks his chin in greeting, then turns to Violet.
“I knew he wouldn’t go for it.”
She looks a little defeated. “I know, but I was hoping.”
Katie sidles up beside me and mutters under her breath. “Don’t be put off by my buddy Hunt. He doesn’t like anyone. Grumpy fucking bastard.”
That tugs a tentative smile from my lips. “Are they talking about Flynn?” I ask, indicating Hunter and Violet with a tilt of my head.
Katie sighs, the shit-eating grin slipping from her face. “Yeah. Do you know what today is?”
I rack my brain, but nothing comes to mind. I shake my head.
“It’s the anniversary of the day their parents died. It happened ten years ago today.”
My breath catches in my throat and my heart aches for Flynn. “And he’s not here?”
“No.” Katie’s usually wearing a grin, she’s usually joking and teasing, but her face right now is unnaturally serious.
“Mum thought he wanted to be with us to acknowledge it this year,” Olivia says, slipping into the conversation. “When she asked him about it, he seemed fine with the idea. But he’s just text me to say the planting is taking longer than he thought and he’ll let me know when he’s done.”
“He’s not coming then,” Katie says, resigned. “He can make tractor work last all night if he wants to.”
Olivia agrees, then goes to speak to Violet and Hunter. Violet looks sad, but accepting, Hunter looks … well, he looks pissed. He runs a hand roughly over his hair and turns towards the door, but Violet stops him with a hand on his arm. He spins on her and my heart leaps into my throat as he towers over her. I’m wondering how this is all going to play out when he suddenly deflates.
“Just leave him be,” Violet says, voice soft.
“I’m sorry, Vi,” he mutters.
“No one needs to be sorry. Now if you don’t mind, I’ve spent half my afternoon making your mother’s apple pie and I’d really like to be eating it and we have to get through actual dinner first.”
“Do we really need to do dinner first though, Vi?” Katie asks, pushing through to find her humour again. “We could just eat the pie.”
“I do like the way you think,” Violet points at Katie. “What do you think, Sadie?”
Sadie glances at Dallas, then at me, before looking at Katie and back to Violet. “Pie!”
“That settles it,” Violet says. “Dessert for dinner it is.”
Hunter rolls his eyes but follows Violet into the kitchen, returning a moment later with a stack of bowls. Olivia grabs a tub of ice cream and Violet serves up her apple pie, leaving a piece in the pie dish.
