Falling For You (Honey Leaf Lodge #1)

Chapter Thirty

Owen

I woke up to Violet’s soft breathing. Her head rested on my chest, her dark hair fanning like silk across the pillow behind her.

The early morning light filtered through the curtains, and for a moment, I just lay there, trying to memorize every second of this—of her.

I wasn’t ready to leave.

Her tiny cabin, cozy and warm, was decorated for the holidays, and the scent of pine from the Christmas tree downstairs filled the loft. Before everything happened last night, I took in her decorations, and they were perfectly Vi.

The ornaments were mismatched, clearly collected over the years, each telling a story. A string of lights draped across the stone near the woodstove, their soft twinkle adding a touch of whimsy to the space. She hung stockings with care, even though it was just Violet here most of the time.

It felt like home. More than any place I’d ever been.

I looked down at her, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest as she slept.

Vi’s expression was so peaceful.

God, she was beautiful. And at this moment, Vi looked so content, like she belonged here, like we belonged here.

Together.

But in a few hours, I’d be on a plane.

And while I was looking forward to finishing things up, the idea of leaving Violet, even briefly, made my chest tighten. It wasn’t just about the time apart—it was the feeling that I didn’t want to be anywhere else but right here with her for the first time in my life.

I shifted slightly, careful not to wake her, though part of me wanted to stay like this for as long as possible. The warmth of her body against mine, the soft weight of her resting on my chest.

This morning was perfect.

Just like last night.

And I wanted to remember it all—every detail—the way her hair smelled faintly like lavender, her full lips always tasting like cinnamon lip gloss, and her feistiness.

I loved it.

I closed my eyes momentarily, breathing her in, knowing I’d be thinking about this for the next few days while I was away.

She shifted slowly and stretched as her eyes fluttered open.

“Hey,” I whispered softly. “Morning.”

She stirred andlooked up at me with that sleepy, sweet expression that twisted my heart.

“Morning,” she murmured, her voice squeaky from sleep.

Vi nuzzled her face into my chest. “Last night was incredible.”

“You think so?” I teased, running my fingers along her cheek. “I’d say it was the best night of my life.”

She moaned happily. “Can’t we just stay here forever?”

I laughed, the sound rumbling through my chest. “Trust me, I’d love that. But I’ve got a flight to catch, remember?”

She let out a soft sigh and sat up. Her hair fell in messy waves around her face. She looked beautiful, even first thing in the morning, and I couldn’t help but reach up and tuck a stray strand behind her ear.

“I know,” she said, smiling sadly. “I just… I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you too,” I said, sitting up and pulling her into my arms. “But I’ll be back soon. You’ll barely have time to miss me.”

She chuckled, resting her head against my shoulder. “We’ll see about that.”

We stayed like that for a few more minutes, the quiet cabin wrapping us in a warm, comfortable silence. I didn’t want to leave. Not yet. But I knew I had to.

After we finally managed to pull ourselves out of bed, we got ready for the day. I couldn’t stop glancing at Violet as she moved around the cabin, her movements short and fluttery as she showered and threw on a sweater and jeans. She always looked like she jumped at each action. It made me chuckle, but there was a softness to her that I found irresistible.

Every moment felt precious, and I was trying to burn it all into my memory—the way she smiled at me when she caught me watching her, the sound of her laugh as she teased me about leaving my socks on the floor, the way she hummed under her breath as she tied her hair up in a messy bun.

It was the little things. The things that I’d miss most while I was gone.

“Ready for coffee?” Violet asked, grabbing her coat and slipping it on.

“Always,” I said, grabbing my own jacket and keys. “Lead the way.”

We headed out into the cold, the late November air biting at our cheeks as we made our way to my truck and drove to the coffee shop down the street.

Tiny snowflakes slowly drifted to the ground, melting as they touched the sidewalk.

The town looked like something from a postcard—charming, peaceful, and just a little magical.

And as we walked together, our hands brushing against each other’s, I realized that I didn’t just love Violet—I loved this place, too.

Buttercup Lake got under your skin, making you feel like you belonged, even if you were just passing through.

When we reached the coffee shop, the bell over the door jingled as we stepped inside.

The warmth and the smell of freshly brewed coffee instantly wrapped around us. Abby stood behind the counter, her bright smile widening when she saw us.

“Well, if it isn’t the lovebirds,” she teased, raising an eyebrow. “What can I get for you two today? The usual?”

Violet laughed, shaking her head. “We’re not that predictable, are we?”

Abby grinned, pulling two mugs off the shelf. “Oh, you’ve got your routines. But that’s okay. Predictable’s good. Means you know what you like.”

Owen chuckled, wrapping an arm around my waist. “I guess that’s true. But I’m not complaining. Predictable or not, this coffee’s the best.”

Abby winked as she poured our drinks, handing us the mugs a few moments later. “See? I know what I’m talking about. Enjoy, you two.”

We found a table near the window, the perfect spot to watch the snow fall gently outside. It was quiet in the shop this morning, a few locals scattered at the other tables, but the atmosphere was warm and inviting, just like always.

Vi wrapped her hands around her mug as she leaned back in her chair.

She studied me with that same intensity she always had.

“So,” I said. “I noticed you didn’t whip out the llama costume last night?”

Vi groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Oh, no. You’re not bringing that up.”

I shook my head. “Sorry. It just sounded like a fascinating addition.”

She eyed me suspiciously. “You’re not into that, right?”

My brow arched in confusion. “Into what?”

Her cheeks reddened. “Oh, nothing.”

“Wait, you mean…” I chuckled and shook my head. “No, I generally like my woman to be without fur.”

“Just checking,” she muttered.

I laughed, and she shrugged. “Just had to put that out there.”

“It takes a special man to bid on a woman dressed like a llama, but that is where it stops. I promise you.” I winked at her, and she laughed.

“Speak of the devil,” she murmured, lifting her head just in time to see Millie walking into the shop.

“Violet! Owen!” Millie called, making her way over to our table. “I was just talking about you two yesterday at Thanksgiving.”

I raised an eyebrow, unsure I wanted to know what they’d been saying. “Oh?”

Millie grinned, leaning on the back of a nearby chair. “Oh, yes. We were discussing Owen’s incredibly generous donation at the charity auction. That hundred thousand dollars will feed families around here for decades. You should be proud of him, Violet.”

Vi glanced at me and nodded. “He’s a special guy.”

“I’m glad to have helped.”

Millie waved a hand, dismissing my humility. “Well, help you did. You’ve made quite the impression on this town, Owen.”

Violet looked over at me, her eyes softening.

“Well, you definitely made an impact.” Vi grinned.

“You think the people like me yet around here?”

Millie winked, straightening up. “We’ll make sure they do. Don’t you worry.”

My brow arched. “Is that a no, then?”

“Just a little finessing is all that’s needed.” She pointed at Violet. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten about that llama costume. We’re still laughing about it.”

She groaned, but there was no real embarrassment. “I knew I’d never live that down.”

Millie patted her shoulder with a grin. “Oh, you’re a good sport, honey. Anyway, I’ll leave you two to your coffee. Just wanted to say hello.”

As Millie left, I chuckled, taking a sip of my latte. “I think I would’ve paid even more to see you in that costume.”

She narrowed her eyes at me, and I couldn’t help but smile. “You’re lucky I let you bid on me at all.”

“Lucky? Or smart?” My brows lifted.

“Let’s go with both,” she teased, sipping her drink. “You’re definitely lucky I didn’t throw that costume at you.”

“I deserved it.” I nodded, smiling. “No doubt about it.”

“I’m really going to miss this,” I said after a moment, my voice quieter now. “Miss you.”

She met my gaze, and my heart clenched at the thought of leaving. “I’m going to miss you too.”

But even as I said it, I knew I’d be back. Buttercup Lake had a way of pulling people in, of making them stay, and I knew—deep down—that I wasn’t going anywhere. Not for long, anyway.

“Don’t worry,” I said, reaching across the table to take her hand in mine. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

She smiled, squeezing my hand. “I’ll hold you to that.”

As we sat there, watching the snow fall, I realized that I believed her. She was the one person in life who always held me accountable, and for that, I would always be grateful.

I would be back. And when I returned, we’d pick up right where we left off—right here, in this tiny town, in this life we were building together.