Page 12 of Icebound Hearts

“It’s not a problem,” he assures me. “I’ll be careful.”

“Okay, uh, then I’ll just grab something else.”

I try to play it cool by grabbing a stack of my clothes that are still on hangers in the back seat, but I can’t take my eyes off Sawyer as he loads another, smaller box from the opposite side into his free hand.

I follow him closely back inside and up the stairs, my clothes piled on my shoulder. We’re just about to walk into my new room when the luggage strap on the suitcase he’s carrying bursts. Sawyer curses under his breath as the suitcase falls open, spilling its contents across the floor.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he mutters. “I shouldn’t have tried to grab two?—”

He breaks off suddenly, staring down at the pile of clothes and things on the floor. My gaze follows his, and my stomach drops in a rush.

Dammit. This is why I wanted to carry the suitcase myself.

On top of my half-unfolded clothes sits what’s obviously, unmistakably a vibrator. A very large, very hot pink one.

My face catches fire, and I fall to my knees, slinging the hangers I’ve been carrying off my shoulder and trying my best to cover up or at least bury the vibrator under the rest of the crap that fell out of the suitcase.

“Oops!” I try to laugh it off, and even though I can’t see Sawyer’s face, somehow, I know he’s looking at me.

I should probably shut up and just pretend nothing happened, but the words just keep coming.

“I’ve been in a bit of a dry spell lately,” I blurt as I wrap the toy in a loose red blouse, then tuck it under my arm.

When I spin on my knee, Sawyer is staring down at me, his expression unreadable, which only makes me babble more.

“It’s not like I use it all the time, but I haven’t dated anyone in a while. And I figured while I was having some ‘alone time,’ I might as well figure out what kinds of things I like, you know? So that’s why I got this. I read about it in a magazine, and it’s supposed to be the greatest thing since the invention of electricity or something.”

I laugh awkwardly, scrambling to catch the clothing-wrapped vibrator when it slips out from under my arm and I almost drop it again.

“Anyway, I didn’t know I’d be taking a nannying job when I packed this, obviously. Not that nannies can’t have sex! Or, um, do other things. They can do whatever they want. I almost left it in Chicago when I moved out of my old place, but I have this because I have a bucket list of things I want to try in bed, and…”

My words finally trail off as I realize just how badly I’ve been babbling—and exactlywhatI just said to my new boss.

I didn’t think it would be possible for my face to get any hotter, but the temperature of my cheeks flares until I’m sure they must be bright red.

“I’m talking way too much, aren’t I?” I whisper, grimacing.

Sawyer doesn’t answer. He hasn’t moved or spoken at all, his face set in an expression that almost looks angry. God, does he think I’m some kind of sex maniac? He probably thinks he’s just agreed to let some depraved harlot move into his house to take care of his son, and I bite my lip, half convinced that he’s going to tell me this won’t work out before I’ve even finished bringing my things inside.

“I promise I’ll keep it hidden away so Jake never finds it or anything.”

My voice comes out in a soft squeak, and I shove the vibrator behind my back as if to prove my words.

Sawyer watches me, that same enigmatic look on his face as his eyes track the movement. Then, to my surprise, the tension in his jaw relaxes, his lips quirking upward just the tiniest bit.

“It’s okay, Violet,” he tells me in his deep, rumbling voice. “I’ve got a few toys of my own.”

I blink, struggling to keep my eyebrows from shooting upward. That’snotwhat I was expecting him to say, and I can’t suppress my curiosity about what those toys might be. Sawyer is hot as hell, but as far as I can tell, he’s also one of the most serious, stoic people I’ve ever met, so it’s hard to imagine him having a wild side.

But then again, there’s a lot I don’t know about this man.

And I definitely don’t have the guts to ask him for any details, especially while I’m on my knees on the floor with a massive pink vibrator hidden behind my back. I feel like our professional relationship is on thin ice already, between this and the incident yesterday.

Thankfully, Sawyer sets the suitcase down so I can throw everything that fell out back inside, and I make sure to bury the vibrator at the very bottom before slamming the suitcase shut.

While I’m working on that, he scoops up the clothes I was carrying off and brings them over to the bed, laying them out ontop of the mattress. I don’t bother trying to pick up the suitcase again—I’d die on the spot if it fell apart again—so instead, I just push it across the room on its side. I’m not touching it again while Sawyer’s around, that’s for sure.

“Well, I think that’s everything,” I say, trying to ignore the heat in my cheeks. “Thanks again for the help.”

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