The Magnolia Sisters (Magnolia Sisters #1) - Michelle Major Page 0,8
an oversized suitcase across the threshold. “But Carrie said I could stay here.”
“You can’t,” Violet insisted, her voice shaky. “Carrie is coming back.”
“Not tonight,” the woman said.
“Violet, let’s go back to the house. It’s time for your bath.”
“Kick her out, Daddy,” the girl pleaded, tugging on his hand. “She shouldn’t be here. She doesn’t belong.”
“Smartest thing anyone has said all day,” the woman muttered.
Gray pressed two fingers to his suddenly pounding head. He lifted Violet into his arms. “This nice lady must be Carrie’s friend,” he told the girl. “That means she’s our friend, too.”
“I most certainly am not your friend,” the woman said, her tone as sharp and decisive as it had been earlier. “I’m not Carrie’s friend, either.”
“See, Daddy. I told you. She’s—”
“I’m her sister,” the woman clarified, and the shock on Violet’s face reflected his own surprise. The news wasn’t exactly a bombshell. Carrie didn’t share many details of her life, but he’d heard the rumors swirling around town about Niall’s will. He knew Meredith Ventner had been outed as one of the eccentric artist’s previously unknown daughters. He’d heard the news had come as a surprise to Meredith but not her former marine father, Carl.
It explained this woman’s sudden appearance in Magnolia. She didn’t look the type for a road trip to a sleepy Southern town. Even after what had to be a trying day, with her suit rumpled and wisps of golden blond hair escaping her low ponytail, her cool beauty and obvious poise weren’t diminished in the least.
She looked like someone who would be friends with his ex-wife, definitely not a mark in her favor. The fact that she and Violet were currently engaged in a stare down didn’t speak well of her, either, although his first instinct was to give her a break given her current circumstances.
As stony as she appeared, he sensed she was holding on to her composure by a thin thread. He could appreciate a good defensive mechanism, even when aimed in his direction. But he’d always been too soft when it came to women.
“If you need anything,” he said, moving toward the cozy guesthouse’s front door, “just holler.”
She arched a brow. “I don’t ‘holler.’”
His gaze slammed into hers as a dozen innuendoes crowded his mind. All of them revolved around what he would do to provoke her to lose control enough to shout—preferably his name in the throes of passion. A blush stained the woman’s cheeks—hell, he didn’t even know her name—like she could read every one of his inappropriate thoughts.
Why did she have this effect on him? He hadn’t been on a single date since his divorce, let alone had time for any sort of sexual dalliances. Violet was his world and every choice he made was to protect her. He didn’t care about what he might be missing when it came to women.
Especially not with a woman who had taken an immediate aversion to him.
“Then have a good night,” he told her, and pressed a hand to his daughter’s thin back as he walked out the door.
CHAPTER THREE
AVERY AWOKE TO the sound of chattering, giggling voices. She glanced at the bedroom’s open window, wondering if some middle-school social club was holding a meeting in front of the carriage house.
Although the house had central cooling, she’d cracked the window sometime in the middle of the night when she couldn’t sleep. Eventually, the hum of crickets from the woods bordering the property and the scent of the fresh air calmed her enough to get a few hours of rest.
Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she walked to the window, ready to call down a scathing rebuke to the group of girls. One lone child sat at the picnic table situated in the grass between the main house and her place. Violet, whose hostile welcome last night had felt somehow comforting.
Kids had never really liked Avery. On a day when Avery’s world had been turned even more upside down than she thought possible, Violet’s animosity had reassured her she hadn’t dropped into some strange alternate universe.