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Jasmine plops herself down on the edge of the bumper and studies me. "I think the majority of men like an easy woman. Not in the sense of sexuality but emotionally as well. They don't want to have to work to earn trust and would rather walk away than put in the effort. Which is why I think you could be the best or worst thing to happen to her."

"You don't think I'll stick around."

"I don't know. Maybe you will. But I can't help but wonder…why her?"

My first instinct is to cite Violet's beauty because she's a woman who turns heads. But what I feel is so much more than that. She's so much more.

"Don't get me wrong. I love my sister," Jas says. "But are you only interested because she's different from the women in your past? Because if all you want is a notch on your belt⁠—"

"You know me better than that," I say, interrupting her.

"Do I? Does she?"

I struggle to find the right words when I don't understand my obsession with a woman who barely acknowledges me or any other man. "Your sister wants everyone to think she's tough as nails—and she is—but I see more. I see how she is every time she looks at you or…helps an elderly customer with an order. The way she is around Kace's kids. She softens." My lips quirk up when I say, "Seeing her like that makes me think of a toasted marshmallow, all crusty and angry on the outside but warm and gooey on the inside."

I glance over to find Jasmine staring at me, and I exhale, shrugging. "You asked."

"I did," she says softly. "And I'm glad you're able to see that side of her. But if you're just playing to see how far you can get, I will kill you. She doesn't need that. So be very sure of your interest before you do something you can't undo."

The screen door bangs shut, and we turn to see Violet walking fast, wearing a fresh T-shirt beneath an open coat and missing the face smudges.

I take her in with a silent sound of appreciation because she has that effect on me. One I need to rein in until I put Jasmine's words through the grinder and confirm that I'm all in. I think I am. A part of me knows I am. But Violet's fear of me leaves me struggling to discern if I'm confident enough to take that on. Am I man enough to be the man she needs me to be? "You could help me," I say in a whisper. "Fill me in on her past. Tell me about that call she got at the Pelican the other night."

"I could," Jasmine agrees. "But you have to earn that info, and it's up to her to tell you when and if she ever trusts you enough."

"And the call?"

Jasmine's expression tightens as she shoves to her feet. "I'm glad you told the guys to keep an eye out. Thanks for that."

With everything she doesn't say, she says it all. I nod, very aware of Violet's approach. Walls up and fire in her eyes.

"We're late," Violet says in a firm voice. "Thanks for the help, Sully, but we have to go."

I open my arms like I did after she reamed me behind the bus and earn an eye roll from Violet—and a muffled huff of laughter from Jasmine.

"A guy can hope. I'm a hugger not a fighter," I say, winking at Violet.

"You could always demand a date as payment for fixing Betty," Jasmine says in an innocent voice. "She isn't working at the bar tonight, and she could totally use a night out to destress."

"Jas!"

"Done," I say firmly. "I'll pick you up tonight at seven sharp."

Violet wears her shock and panic on her face.

"Jas, what are you doing?"

"One date, Vi. You and me. A few hours of your time over dinner are a small price to pay for getting ol' Betty up and running, isn't it? See you at seven," I say as I saunter over to my bike and don my helmet.

Violet's still sputtering as Jasmine shoves her sister up the bus steps, reminding Violet that they're running late.

When Vi recovers enough to turn and looks as though she's about to argue, I quickly gun the engine and peel off down the driveway.

I have a date to plan.

Chapter 11

Violet