Sunset Thunder (9 page)

VIOLET WATCHED HER son dig his fingers into the bucketful of dirt to fetch a live, wiggly worm out. He held it out toward her. 

What did he want her to do with it?

There were a lot of things Violet was capable of, but piercing an innocent, squirmy worm onto a hook, just wasn’t one of them. 

She waved her hand in front of her son, motioning for him to take the worm away. “I’m going to pass on baiting with a worm,” she told him.

Parker dropped his hand to his side. “Mom, you can’t
pass
. You have to bait your hook. We are
fishing
.” He said it like she wasn’t well aware of exactly what the four of them were doing on this yacht.

Parker was baiting his hook and trying to convince her to do the same. Sophia was choosing the fishing spot, using the fish finder at the wheel, with Ryder, who was steering the boat...without a shirt on...or a life jacket. His chest was still exposed and his hard, flexing muscles glistened under the sun like he had wiped himself down with tropical oil...and he smelled delicious. When Ryder passed Violet, the smell of a summer day lazing around at the beach lingered, as though he’d already spent the day sitting in the sand, splashing in the water and baking under the sun, meanwhile they’d only been on the boat for no longer than a half hour. A long, torturous, slow half hour that Violet wished would quicken and end. Violet wished her fingers had rubbed Ryder’s body with the oil.

Meow.

Violet kept her eyes hidden behind her dark sunglasses, because it was those thoughts that were going to get her in trouble. Especially when she was stealing glances at Ryder or staring. She was definitely staring.

“Here. Stop. This is the perfect location,” Sophia squealed and turned to face Violet and her brother. “Parker, check this out. There’s like a hundred fish right under us.” 

As Ryder was idling the boat to stop, Violet sat back enjoying the view. His long, lean arms were in focused action, flexing under each movement. One hand turned the wheel, while the other pulled levers and hit buttons. This man knew his way around buttons.

He knows his way around my buttons.

Violet flushed. She was sure of it. Her face was as hot as the area between her thighs.

“Let me see.” Parker dropped the worm back in the styrofoam tub before darting away. Violet uncrossed her legs, and leaned forward, busying herself, snapping the lid back on the container and pushing away the innocent worms that were destined to doom this afternoon.

Her eyes fell on Ryder as he crossed the deck to drop the anchor. Bare-chested. Perfect tan line. Perfect muscles. Perfect playboy.
Perfect playboy. Remember that the next time you heat up.
 

Violet tore her eyes away from Ryder’s body and back to her children. Parker and Sophia were all smiles, pointing at the screen, excited to drop their lines. They were her everything and she loved watching her son’s miserable tense body finally diminishing into an excitement over the cluster of neon fish on the screen. 

“This is awesome,” Parker said.

His enthusiasm delighted Violet and in that moment she knew why she’d agreed to Ryder’s offer. The answer shot out of her mouth so quickly, without a second thought, she wondered if her decision was because she’d had Ryder on the brain all week. Her intelligence had a temporary
mush moment,
letting her emotions override her thoughts, her better judgement...and that was why she thought she’d said yes.
Her emotions and her lust
. In hindsight, now watching her son act like a kid, eliminating the growling bear she was growing accustomed to, Violet knew her quick, yes had been to avoid her son’s disappointment. Parker had been keen on this trip.

Joel might have shared custody of their kids, at her insistence, but he didn’t go out of his way to take them often, and rarely planned events. Violet loved her children. Although she and Joel had their differences, and his ulterior motive stung, Sophia and Parker were his children too, and they needed their dad.

Violet watched as Ryder was walking on the back swim platform. The sun radiated off his gold aviators, just as it did his perfect tan....
were these same thoughts going to pop in her head every single time she looked at him? They were getting old.

While Violet was scolding herself, Ryder hopped over the stairs and walked across the deck, lowering his glasses and sending her a wink as her eyes followed.
No self control...for either of them.

Violet’s breath caught in her chest as he slid the sunglasses back up his straight, narrow nose and continued past her.

Busted anyway, Violet proceeded to watch him, like every other Ryder-crazed woman did. He was probably used to it. Accustomed to the winking, and to using his charm and good looks to win women over, even the strong ones.

Violet was strong, but around Ryder, he stole her strength and replaced it with raw desire.

Raw desire? Raw desire!

But that wasn’t her only weakness when Ryder was present. She had thought evading him would eliminate the growing curiosity of figuring out who he really was. He was different in so many ways, but only one truly stuck out: the way he looked at her. Violet couldn’t decipher what the glimpses he stole were him trying to discover who she was, who she
really
was, or had he mastered the art of making a woman feel special.

Special? Was that how she felt?
No. Special was what everyone, excluding her family, treated her like. Real was how Ryder treated her and real was new and intriguing.

Ryder was gathering the fishing poles, in a manner that told Violet he did this all the time.

When Violet’s kids, adorned in their life jackets, jumped into her view, excitedly grabbing their poles from Ryder, they reminded Violet that it didn’t matter what was behind Ryder’s facade because she was a mother.

A mother.

She couldn’t go around trying to decipher the meaning behind a man’s
look.
What if all he wanted was a fling? What if he wanted more? But how did a man like Ryder want more? And with Violet? It was very unlikely.

The stark reality was, Violet was not young and carefree like Izzy. Violet was a mother of two with responsibilities. There was no way Ryder Carlex would want to get involved with a mother. She was way out of Ryder’s league.

Ryder’s league? Ryder’s league! Maybe he’s out of my league. 

Either way, Violet wished her
motherly
body was more covered up. The life jacket buckled around her upper torso gave minor coverage, but a nice long dress would be more suitable and comfortable. Violet wasn’t embarrassed by her body. In fact, after two children she prided herself on how good her body had bounced back thanks to a healthy diet and hitting the resort gym regularly. However, she wasn’t in her early twenties, like the women Joel told her Ryder took on boat trips.

Joel.

That selfish man was the reason Violet was on this boat in the first place, longing for a dress at the same time longing for Ryder’s hands to remove every last inch of her bathing suit. Those two thoughts were forcefully contradicting. She hadn’t remembered a time in her life when her thoughts were crashing as loudly as the waves hitting the side of the boat.

Parker sent Violet a straight stare as he pushed the closed styrofoam container toward her. “Come on Mom. Bait your hook. Dad always makes us do it ourselves and we are only kids.”

Kids are more adventurous. Kids take more risks. Kids
are
little worms that need guidance to keep away from getting snagged on a hook. Violet felt snagged on Ryder’s hook.

Parker turned with that and walked through the cockpit to join his sister at the stern of the boat. Violet wasn’t an overprotective mom, but she felt more secure with each of her children wearing a life jacket and standing on the other side of the bow rail to fish. The sharp little hooks on the end of their line had Violet holding her breath in anticipation of their casting the line. They both cautiously looked behind them, as they balanced their poles, before whipping the line through the air and letting it land in the water. 

Violet wasn’t doing it. She knew that sounded childish, but she absolutely wasn’t sending an innocent fish flying through the air to its death.

She should have expected Joel to cancel and brought a book with her. Or her phone...anything to keep her mind occupied with something besides Ryder.

Violet lost sight of him now, watching her kids. That was good. Now she could stop following him around and he would stop following her around. Watching each other. Stealing glances. Winking and flushing.

Oh wow...they were acting like horny teenagers.

Violet hadn’t been a horny teenager. While attending a private school, then University, she’d been more concerned with her grades then boys. She also felt she’d sometimes missed out on certain aspects of public school life, which had been her reason for enrolling her kids in Willow Valley’s public school, against Robert’s wishes. But, if this feeling was what she’d been missing in school, maybe she better switch Sophia into private ASAP. It felt like dangerously, naughty fun that Violet could easily be swept into. And Violet Caliendo wasn’t
easily
swept into anything.

A can of corn popped into Violet’s vision, disrupting the image of Ryder playing in the background.

Violet jumped. 

Ryder chuckled. He walked around her, the low waistline of his shorts hugging his slim hips, right at Violet’s eyes level.

Seriously? Seriously! Yes, thank you.

He sat beside her. With a can opener, he twisted the lid off the can of corn and then passed her the full tin.

What did he want her to do with this? Cook it? Eat it? 

Violet held the can, and sent him a questioning look.

His smile was toe melting and when he slid the sunglasses onto the top of his head, his bright blue eyes looked amused. “It’s to bait your hook,” he explained. 

“Corn?” 

“Definitely.” He reached to the ground, stretching his body and Violet bit her lower lip.

Why did he have to go stretch and reach and look so hot?

He picked up a fishing pole from the floor, running his hand down the invisible fishing line and stopping at the hook. She remembered the way his hands slid up her thighs and−

Ryder held the hook out to her. 

Right, fishing. Bait the hook...with corn. Focus on fishing. Fishing, fishing, fishing...

Violet dipped her fingers into the corn and took out a few kernels. This she could handle, but she was still unsure whether he was pulling her leg or not. She’d never heard of fishing with corn. She wasn’t an avid fisherman.

When Violet grasped the hook, planning on taking it from Ryder’s hand, he didn’t move. He didn’t jerk away from her touch, like she wanted to from his sizzling skin. He didn’t even flinch.

Violet’s entire insides, on the other hand, were flinching and jerking like a dead fish. Ryder held the hook in position while she poked a few kernels on. 

“Does this really work?” she asked.

Ryder nodded. “My mom was squirmy like you about fishing with worms. She absolutely refused to hurt a worm. Even though she cooked the fish we caught.” Ryder chuckled. “Explain that one. Anyway, my dad’s fishing gear
always
included a can of corn for her.”

Violet watched a genuine smile form on Ryder’s lips while he spoke of his parents. His mother, Kathleen, had passed away years ago. The Carlex’s were not locals in Willow Valley. They were among the many summer vacationers. Mrs. Carlex had attended several of the exquisite, over-the-top galas Eliza hosted and that Violet and Emma had planned. The more elaborate the decor, the more enticed the guests were to open their chequebooks and donate for the fun night prepared for them. Like the Fright Fest.

Violet hadn’t noticed Ryder’s tense shoulders all day, but the more he talked, the thick, hard hills began to relax...
he
began to relax. This was a new side to Ryder, a softer side with traces of affection, real affection. It was something Violet had never witnessed from him.

As he continued to talk, Ryder took the hook from Violet, loading it with corn. “My dad didn’t raise the faint of heart. I fish with worms.” He shrugged. “I guess I just like to bring a can of corn on board to remind me of my mom.”

Violet leaned back against the cushion, enjoying Ryder’s stories and the way he changed as he told them.

“When I was young, she never missed a fishing trip with just me and my dad. You remember my mom, she was always dressed over the top, her clothes and her make-up.”

Yes, Mrs. Carlex wore fancy, glittering outfits and more makeup then all Violet’s sisters combined. But her filled-in eyebrows, red lipstick and waves of black pinned up hair gave her a fifties look, like a sophisticated pin-up girl.

“But when she boarded the boat, all that was stripped away. Those trips were my favorite. When it was just the three of us and my dad didn’t bring his work on board and we just fished and laughed.”

Ryder was completely lost in his thoughts, and his smile told Violet he was reliving the memories he was sharing in deeper depth.