Page 37 of Wallflower in Bloom

The white four-poster bedpost had ornate carvings and a fuzzy gray blanket on top of the plain snow-white duvet that looked like heaven to sink into.

A flash appeared in his head of her auburn curls splayed on the bed under him, looking up with those big moonlit eyes.

He shook his head. At this rate, it would be March before he found her contacts.

He opened a small jewelry box on her bedside table. Probably a low risk of finding anything inappropriate in such a small container, but he suddenly wanted to know if she had a vibrator. What did it look like? What did she prefer? He pushed the thoughts out of his head to focus on the task at hand.

He lifted cards, hair ties, and, thank Christ, finally, a small contact case.

“Found it!” he yelled.

“What?” Violet shouted, not hearing over the rush of the loud shower.

“I said,” he pitched louder and came to the other side of the bathroom door. “I found your eyesight, Mr. Magoo.”

“Oh, thank god. I tripped over the toilet.”

“Opening the door now, but keeping my eyes averted.” He carefully nudged the bathroom door open and placed the contacts on the counter. “I’ll fix us some tea.”

He shut the bathroom door behind him despite everything in his body telling him to charge in, step inside her shower, and kiss her like he’d wanted to since he first got a taste.

Twenty minutes later, naughty thoughts out of his head, Jack focused on pouring the pot of tea into two teacups. Violet, covered in warm pajamas, padded down the staircase, towel-drying her long curly hair.

He handed her a cup of tea. “This has been a long day.”

Her eyes widened in agreement. “The longest.” She took a long sip.

“I like your…” He stopped. “Face.” He coughed into his hand. “I mean, without the glasses. The contacts,” he stuttered.

Bloody hell, he was like a teenager again.

She grinned behind her teacup. “Thanks. It’s weird for my face to be this naked.”

An awkward silence landed between them as they registered what they needed to discuss next.

“So, you don’t have to—”

“I’ve been thinking—” They started at the same time.

“Oh, no. You go ahead.”

“No, you go ahead. Sorry.”

Jack leaned on the counter, peering into his tea. “I thought Shay would be satisfied with my promise to lie low on my best behavior. But the network requires a public penance to prove it. I love my job and would love to fake date you”—he paused, letting that admission sneak out—“but you went sheet white when she mentioned pictures.”

Violet absent-mindedly circled the edge of her teacup with her finger and nodded. She was quiet for a minute; her finger went around and around the teacup’s rim. Her long fingers delicately traced the edge as she thought.

Does she know what she’s doing to me when she does that? Teasing me? And he shook his head to try to get a handle on it. Otherwise, his whole summer was going to be a walking hard-on.

“I was thinking maybe…” she started. “Maybe I would do it. We could fake date and post pictures of us together.” A tremble sounded in her voice.

“Yeah?” he said, hope rising.

She straightened her shoulders. “I want to be brave, and it can help me step outside my comfort zone. Try my darnedest to be cool for once in my life.”

He wanted to gather her into his arms at her vulnerability but busied himself with his teacup instead. “Cool is overrated. People trying to be cool are terrified they aren’t enough. But you, Violet, are just yourself, and it’s dreadfully brave.”

She huffed out a surprised laugh and rolled her eyes. “I am not brave.”

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