Page 11 of Vampires and Violas (A Vampire’s Guide to Gardening #2)

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“Party was the wrong word,” I say to Noah as I shut the car door, keeping my voice low so it won’t carry. “I just meant I would give you your gift.”

He sets his hand on the small of my back, guiding me forward. “Are you my gift?”

“Noah!” I exclaim, laughing.

“A guy can dream.” He waves to a couple of kids who are hanging off the fence and watching the horses in the evening-lit pasture. “Those are my cousin’s kids—Ellie and Emmett.”

“This is pretty incredible,” I say, taking in the property.

Noah’s parents live in Carbondale. They have a good-sized acreage, an old barn, a sturdy farmhouse that looks like it just had a fresh coat of white paint, and an amazing view of Mount Sopris.

Halfway to the house, a cat comes up to greet us. She’s a calico, with long fur and bright green eyes.

“That’s Luna,” Noah says. “She rules the place.”

“She’s sweet.” I kneel to stroke her back. “So, you grew up here?”

“We moved in to help Grandpa after Grandma passed away when I was fifteen.” Noah leads me up the steps, knocks twice, and then pushes the door open, calling out a greeting.

I follow him inside. It’s weird to be in Noah’s parents’ home instead of their grocery store, where I regularly drop off flower orders. I’ve known his family longer than I’ve known Noah, but I’ve never been here before.

The entry opens to a large living room. The floors are hardwood. They’re scrubbed clean, but they’re scarred with age. The vaulted ceilings are finished with wooden planks and huge support beams. A large rock fireplace is the focal point on the south side of the room, with several couches around it.

The kitchen is to the right, and that’s where everyone is congregated.

“Hi, Piper.” Julie, Noah’s mom, motions for us to come over. “We’re so happy you could join us.”

Noah’s sister is at the large island, cutting up vegetables for a salad Noah won’t be able to eat. She offers me a big smile, looking particularly smug—probably because she wanted to set Noah up with me the minute he got back into town.

“Piper, you know Mom and Britta, but this is my Aunt Cathy.” Noah gestures to a woman in her mid-fifties who’s seated at the bar. She watches Britta prep the salad as she sips a soda.

“Hi, Piper,” she says. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Where’s Uncle Dan?” Noah asks.

“Dan, Austin, Garrett, and your dad are watching the grill with Grandpa,” Britta says. “Brandie is out with the kids.”

“I’ll introduce you to them later,” Noah tells me.

“There’s soda and sparkling water in the fridge,” Julie says. “And you can make coffee, Noah, if you want.”

“You want some?” Noah asks me. “My dad is a coffee snob like you are, so he usually has the good stuff.”

“I’m not a coffee snob,” I laugh, but it’s true. I’m particular about it, and it makes my heart happy that he noticed.

“Alex wants to put an espresso bar in the grocery store,” Julie says to Cathy. “I keep trying to talk him out of it, but he insists people will enjoy coffee while they shop.”

“He’s probably right,” Cathy says. “Though I’m not sure I see my brother creating latte art.”

Noah leans against the counter, making himself at home. “What does Grandpa think about all that?”

Julie laughs to herself, stealing a piece of bell pepper from the cutting board. “Grandpa is pretty against it.”

“Grandpa retired,” Britta points out. “He doesn’t get a say anymore.”

Julie shoots her daughter a look. “You tell him that.”

Noah’s family’s grocery store has been around for over fifty years. Noah’s grandfather retired, and now his parents run it. In the future, I imagine it will pass to Britta. From what I can tell, she loves the place.

“I agree with Grandpa,” Noah says. “Who’s going to go to a grocery store for a latte when they can go through a drive-thru and order with an app?”

“Someone who likes good coffee?” I hold back a grin when Noah gives me a droll look.

“See?” Britta says. “It’s a good idea. And then we can sell in-house coffee blends as well. I’ll contact a few local roasters and see if they want to partner with us.”

Noah smiles even though he obviously thinks the whole thing is ridiculous.

I find myself watching him. He’s happy here—he genuinely loves being home. But he’ll never be completely at ease until he tells them he’s a vampire. It makes my heart twinge a little, both for Noah and me. He’s close to his family, like I’m close to mine.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Julie says to her daughter. “First, let’s focus on your wedding.”

Britta growls, making me think the bride-to-be doesn’t want to be reminded of her upcoming nuptials.

“What’s wrong?” Noah demands. “Did Austin do something?”

“No, no.” Britta waves a carrot at him. “It’s the florist. We hired his aunt, and the woman is a flake. She called him this morning and let him know she met a guy online, and she’s flying over to see him and won’t be back in time.”

“Isn’t the wedding next month?” I say.

“Yeah, but apparently, he lives in New Zealand.” Suddenly, her eyes sharpen on me. “Piper.”

The look on her face makes me slightly nervous. “Yes…?”

“You do floral arrangements.”

“I do, but Britta, I don’t have stock for a wedding?—”

“Jen was supposed to get the flowers from some wholesale place in Denver. We’ve already paid for half the order. Do you think you could just…do something with them? Anything, really. I’m kind of desperate here.”

I glance at Noah, unsure. “I don’t know…”

He shrugs like it’s up to me.

“We’d pay you, of course,” Julie says, just as eager as her daughter.

And that’s the magic word.

“I mean…I could probably do something .”

“Oh my goodness, thank you so much, Piper.” Britta comes around the island and pulls me into a tight hug. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“When is the wedding?”

“August 24th, in Estes Park.”

“I’ll make it work.”

I pull out my phone, deciding I need to recruit Olivia immediately. She doesn’t answer, though. She and Cassian are probably enjoying a sunset horseback ride around his property or discussing his collection of eighteenth-century art.

The conversation turns to other wedding plans, and then we sit down for dinner.

“Tell us about your new job, Noah,” says Uncle Dan, a stout man with a bald head and a slightly intimidating presence. “I’ve heard you’re back in town for good this time.”

“I’m basically the head of investigations now,” Noah says, keeping the answer vague.

“Investigations?” his dad asks. “Like company audits?”

“Sort of like that,” he hedges. “The hours are better, but there’s more time behind a desk.”

“Are you still in the human resources department?” Cathy asks.

“I don’t directly deal with people as much as I used to,” he answers, looking mildly uncomfortable.

“That’s still so weird.” Britta points her fork at him. “I cannot imagine you in HR.”

“How’s the pay?” Dan asks.

“More than I was making before,” he says, obviously not liking to be the center of attention.

“That’s great, Noah. Congratulations,” Cathy says. “We’re glad to have you home.”

“Thank you.” He looks back at his plate. So far, no one seems to have noticed that he hasn’t touched his salad or the mashed potatoes. Like a picky kid, he’s done an excellent job of serving himself small portions and moving them around on his plate to make it look like he ate them.

He didn’t go hungry, though. He’s eaten two steaks and just polished off his third cup of black coffee.

“Who’s ready for cake?” Julie asks after all the dishes have been cleared. “I made your favorite, Noah—Black Forest.”

“She won’t make it for anyone else,” Britta complains. “And you haven’t been home for three years now.”

Noah visibly tenses beside me, but he pastes a smile on his face.

“It’s Noah’s cake,” Julie explains as she pulls a chocolate masterpiece from the fridge. It’s two layers, covered in dark frosting, whipped cream, and chocolate shavings, all topped with maraschino cherries. “I’m not going to make it when he’s not home.”

I have no idea what Noah must be feeling right now, but I know how I’d feel if my mom made me a cake I couldn’t eat. Guilt. Regret. I’d be pretty darn angsty, too, because that cake looks amazing.

“Okay, everyone gather around so we can sing,” Britta commands.

“You don’t need to sing,” Noah deadpans.

“We’re singing, and you’re going to like it.” His mom places the three and two-shaped candles on the top to make thirty-two and then lights them.

And we do sing—badly, every one of us, and not on purpose. Noah cringes like it's causing him physical pain and then steps forward to blow out the candles when we’re done.

When Julie begins slicing the cake, I lean close and ask quietly, “What did you wish for?”

“That I could eat the cake,” he whispers back.

I laugh because he was hoping I would. But mostly, I just feel awful for him. And now that I think about it, I’d probably hate Cassian if he took cake away from me, too.

“Let’s eat outside,” Cathy suggests when Britta passes out plates. “It’s so nice.”

“Do you want a piece, Piper?” Britta asks.

And I see my opportunity. “I’m still full from dinner. I might just snag a few bites of Noah’s.”

She gives her brother a look that’s easy to read. It says, “ Yeah, right, you two aren’t dating. ”

Let her think what she wants. Noah visibly relaxes beside me, realizing we can easily pull this off.

I grab an extra fork, and Noah and I wander to the patio. Cathy is right—it’s the perfect evening. The sunset lights the mountains, and the air is still warm but growing cool.

Noah leads me to a porch swing just beyond the patio, far enough away from the rest of the family that they probably won’t realize he isn’t eating any of the cake.

“You owe me,” I say as I take the first bite, closing my eyes when I realize how ridiculously delicious it is.

“Hardly. I remember that cake—I know you’re getting the better end of this deal.”

“That’s not what I meant.” I dig in for another bite. “We’re all cozy over here, pretending to eat off the same plate. I basically announced we’re dating to save you from…what did I save you from?”

“A night of being violently sick to my stomach,” he says dryly.

“Stupid virus,” I mutter. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

I savor the next bite slowly and then go in for another. “You’re going to have to tell them. Not tonight, but sometime when it’s just your parents.”

He doesn’t respond, and I look over and find him frowning at the cake, looking torn.

“I’ve decided I’m going to tell my parents, too,” I say. “I don’t want to be like Jennifer, trying to figure out how to hide blood on family camping trips.”

“Who’s Jennifer?”

“A woman in my support group.”

“She just needs to find a beverage with an amber bottle and disguise it in that.”

“I think you’re missing the point.”

He sighs. “No, I got it. And I know you’re right.” He looks up, meeting my eyes in the growing dusk. “But I think I’d rather you stick around and eat my cake for me.”

I realize how close we are on this little swing, how our legs are pressed together, and my shoulder is brushing his arm.

“Let me have a taste.” He jerks his head toward the cake.

“Won’t it make you sick?”

“Not if I just have a little.”

I press the fork into the cake, taking off a toddler-sized bite.

“About half that,” he says.

“Smaller than this is just a crumb.”

“Yeah, that’s about right.” He doesn’t sound happy about it.

Feeling a little weird, I hold the bite up to his mouth. “You promise this won’t bother you?”

“Promise.” He grins. “But what are you doing?”

I waggle the fork. “You said you wanted some.”

He takes the fork, smirking. “I didn’t mean I wanted you to feed me.”

I feel myself flush. “Well, it wasn’t my idea either.”

Noah laughs and then groans when he slides the barely-a-bite into his mouth.

“How was it?”

“Good.” He shoots me a wolfish grin. “I mean, it would have been better if you’d been holding the fork, but?—”

I shove his shoulder, laughing. “Shut up.”

“Thank you for coming tonight,” he says, his voice warm.

Too warm.

And not flirtatious—affectionate. And that’s harder to resist.

By a lot.

“You’re welcome,” I say softly.

A smile tugs at his lips, and his voice deepens. “If we were alone, I’d probably kiss you.”

“If we were alone…” I swallow, nervous. “I might let you.”

His smile grows wider as he watches the last of the sunlight disappear from the top of the snowcapped mountain. “Thank you for letting Britta sign you up for her flowers.”

“Sure.”

Even though I would rather grow flowers than arrange them, I’m not going to turn down a job, especially this summer.

“You know that means you have to go to the wedding with me now,” he points out.

“It means I have to make the arrangements, not that I have to go with you. Besides, won’t you be in it? Maybe you’ll walk down the aisle with a pretty bridesmaid, and you’ll forget all about me.”

“I walk down the aisle with my cousin,” he says, amused.

“Well…then that probably isn’t an issue.”

He laughs, leaning against the back of the swing and rocking us forward. We stay like this as the dusk gives way to twilight, until it’s dark enough even the kids decide to go inside and the solar lights on the back deck flicker on.

When Noah sets his hand on mine, I let him. And when he interlaces our fingers, I let him do that, too.

“Hey, Piper,” he says.

“Yeah?” I’m very aware of him in the dark—his large body, the rhythm of his breathing, even the way his heart is beating as fast as mine.

His thumb brushes over my knuckles. “I still like you.”

I swallow, my heart swelling. My feelings for Noah battle with my hesitation, and I think in the end, I know which will win.

Under the cover of nightfall, with the summer crickets serenading us, I whisper, “I still like you, too.”