Violet tossed the shirt to Aidan. He caught the wad of fabric and shook it out to investigate what she’d offered him. If this was the largest, manliest thing she had, he couldn’t imagine what the rest was like—lace and bows and glitter? For one thing, the shirt was too small. He had broad shoulders and a wide chest that demanded an XL top even when his waistline was on the narrow side. The top was a medium, and a woman’s medium at that. It was also a purply sort of color. Its only redeeming attribute was the black logo on the front for a local rock band that he’d heard play a time or two.
“This is too small.”
“Please put it on.”
“I’m going to tear it.”
“It doesn’t matter. I just need you to wear it until your shirt dries. It’s that or a pink silk robe. Your choice, but you’ve got to wear something.”
There was a pleading in her eyes that he couldn’t ignore. She was desperate not to want him. There were lots of reasons she could feel that way. Perhaps she didn’t want to complicate the issue with sharing custody of their son. Maybe she was in a relationship with someone else. Or she could be embarrassed that she had little self-control when it came to her attraction to a lowly barkeep. That was one reason to fight your feelings. Not a good one, but still a reason.
With a shrug, he attempted to pull the T-shirt over his head. It wasn’t the easiest thing he’d ever done, but after some tugging and grunting, he was able to pull it down to cover most of his stomach. “Okay, it’s on.”
She didn’t respond right away. He looked up at Violet and found the stunned expression on her face unexpected. Despite the fact that he was wearing a ridiculously small purple shirt that belonged on a woman, she looked at him as though she could eat him with a spoon. She was actually gripping the footboard of her bed with white-knuckled intensity.
“What?” he said, looking down at himself. It was easy to see the issue. The shirt was tight. Painted-on tight. Every twitch of his muscles, every line of his six-pack abs, was magnified by the clingy top she’d forced him to put on. Her plan had backfired spectacularly.
“Oh, dear. We should’ve gone with the robe.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Just take it off. It didn’t help.”
“The pants, too?” Aidan asked with a sly grin.
Violet swallowed hard before shaking her head. “Uh, no. Just the shirt.”
For now at least, he thought with a wry smile as he tugged the purple fabric over his shoulders.
* * *
“You’ve been quiet this week, Violet,” Harper noted over her traditional girls’ night glass of dry merlot.
“Is Knox teething yet?” Emma asked. “When Georgie started teething, she hardly slept a wink at night, so neither did I. I was a zombie for weeks and that was with a nanny helping during the day.”
“Is that what I have to look forward to?” Lucy asked with concern lining her brow.
“Times two,” Harper pointed out with a smug grin. She was the only single one in the group without a baby on the way, so she was well-rested, thin and living a fabulous life from all outward appearances. “So expect it to be exponentially worse than Emma and Violet have had it.”
“I appreciate you pointing that out, dear sister-in-law,” Lucy grumbled into her glass of Perrier and lemon instead of her usual sweet rosé. She was thirty-five weeks pregnant with Harper’s niece and nephew. She and Harper’s brother, Oliver, had gotten married a few months ago and had been anxiously awaiting the arrival of the twins.
“That’s what I’m here for,” Harper quipped. “So seriously, what’s going on with you, Vi?”
Violet had much preferred her friends continue with the banter so she didn’t have to answer Harper’s pointed question. Unfortunately, she could tell her friend wasn’t going to let it go. She knew that girls’ night would be the night she’d have to come clean to them. They could sniff out a secret like a bloodhound.
Knowing it was time to spill the truth to her best friends, she took a deep breath and began. “Knox is starting to teethe, but that isn’t it. Something else has happened.”
“Oh, really?” Emma said, leaning in curiously to hear the latest news. “Do tell.”
“Beau hasn’t started sniffing around again, has he?” Lucy asked in a worried tone.
It wasn’t the first time she’d heard that, and for good reason. Violet’s ex-boyfriend had tried to reconcile with her a few times in the six months since Knox was born. He’d actually been all too happy to continue their engagement and marry knowing Knox wasn’t his son. He insisted that he loved her and he didn’t care about Knox’s parentage. It had been Violet who’d demanded the paternity test, and Violet who had returned the ring and ended things when the results came back the way her gut had anticipated them to. Beau hadn’t been any happier about the breakup than her parents had been, but she knew she had to do it.
“No, thankfully I haven’t heard from Beau in several weeks. This is actually good news. I had a major breakthrough with my amnesia.”
“You remembered something?” Lucy asked with wide brown eyes.
/> Violet nodded. “Not everything,” she admitted. “But the most important parts, I think.”
“Knox’s father?” Emma asked with a breathy voice.
“Yes.”