Page 52 of Icebound Hearts

“I’m going to hold you to it,” I say and start the car. “But if you feel woozy, please let me know so I can pull over.”

Violet gives me a thumbs up. “Roger.”

I drive slowly just to make sure I don’t make her sick. She stares quietly out the window like an amazed little kid seeing the world for the first time, but with the slower pace, we make it home without needing to stop.

It’s harder to get Violet out of the car than it was to get her in, and now that we’re home where no one will see us anyway, I decide to just carry her. She yelps and laughs when I scoop her up in my arms, and I kick the car door closed behind us. It isn’t until I’m letting us in the front door that I remember Sarah is there waiting, and I don’t want her to see Violet like this, so I head right for the stairs.

“We need to be quiet. I don’t want to wake Jake up,” I whisper to Violet as we ascend, and she nods. I’ve just gotten her to her room when I hear Sarah calling quietly from the bottomof the stairs. She must have heard us come inside from the living room.

“I’m heading home, Sawyer. Have a good rest of your night.”

“Thank you, Sarah. I owe you,” I call back softly, and Violet’s brows stitch together in confusion. “She’s my neighbor. I had her come over to watch Jake while I went to get you.” I set Violet down on her bed carefully, then take a step back. “Are you good?”

“Uh huh.”

She gives me a drunken smile before standing right back up and starting to tug at her dress, pulling the stretchy material over her head. She’s only wearing a lacy bra and a thong beneath it, and I quickly move to avert my eyes—but before I can, she starts to topple over.

“Shit,” I hiss, reaching out to catch her before she falls.

The dress is halfway over her head, her soft curves pressed against me as my arms wrap around her, and I grit my teeth, doing my best to keep my body from responding to her nearness.

“Help. I’m stuck.”

Her voice is muffled by the fabric of her dress as she twists her arms a little, trying to get it the rest of the way off.

Fucking hell.

“Okay, heartbreaker,” I say soothingly, guiding her back until her legs hit the bed and then helping her sit down again. “I’ve got you. Just—hold still.”

Carefully, I peel her dress the rest of the way off, trying to look anywhere but at her. There’s no way in hell I’m going to violate her trust while she’s in a vulnerable position, but I also don’t want her wandering around the room looking for sleep clothes in this state.

“God, it’shotin here,” she whispers, fanning herself. She reaches for her bra strap like she’s about to take that off too, butI catch her wrist to stop her. I don’t think my nervous system could handle that right now.

“That’s the liquor talking. Where do you keep the stuff you sleep in?” I ask, then head toward the dresser as a best guess. I flip the switch on the wall to turn on the ceiling fan on the way.

“I usually just wear a big t-shirt. Yeah, in there,” she mumbles, pointing at the dresser. I open the drawers quickly until I find a shirt that’s large enough to be a dress on her, then bring it over and help her pull it over her head.

As soon as her face appears through the neck hole, she smiles at me. “You’re a sweet guy, Sawyer. Thank you.”

I try my best not to let my emotions show on my face and just nod at her. “You’re welcome. Stay right here, okay? I’m gonna go get you a glass of water and some ibuprofen.”

Violet’s face brightens in drunken approval. “Oh, that’s agreatidea. You have a lot of those.”

I bite back a small laugh. “Yeah, I do. Be right back.”

Before I even leave her room, I hear her flop on the bed, which means she’s at least doing what I asked and staying put. I keep a glass in the bathroom for water so I don’t have to go back downstairs for it, and I fill it from the sink and pop a few tablets of ibuprofen from the bottle in the mirror cabinet, then go back to her room.

She’s staring up at the ceiling fan as if entranced, but her head lolls over to look at me when she hears me coming. She props herself up on an elbow, and I sit down on the bed beside her, then pass her the glass of water. After gulping half of it down in one go, she holds her hand out to me, palm up.

“You got the goods?”

I laugh and drop the tablets in her palm. “Yup. Here.”

She pops them in her mouth and downs the rest of the water, which should help cut down on the hangover tomorrow too. Igently retrieve the glass from her and pull the covers back so she can slip under them, then tug them up to her shoulders.

“All good?” I ask, and she nods.

“All good.”

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