4. Violet

Chapter 4

Violet

It’s just about five o’clock in the evening when I park on the street outside Sawyer’s house, craning my neck a little to look out the window at the view.

His place is a two-story house in the suburbs of Denver that, while a bit larger than the others around it, looks like a home in any average American neighborhood. That might be somewhat uncharacteristic for an NHL player, but somehow it seems exactly like the modest kind of place I’d imagine Sawyer living in.

It’s not the first time I’ve been here, but it feels like it is. Thanks to my connection to the Aces, I’ve known Sawyer for almost as long as my brother has, although I don’t know him nearly as well as Reese does. We stopped by Sawyer’s house once, years ago after a game, so I don’t remember it well. But I do remember meeting his ex-wife briefly. And that makes sitting in my car loaded with boxes and suitcases full of everything I own feel doubly surreal.

I can’t believe I’m moving in with Sawyer. To be his freaking nanny, of all things .

Not that there’s anything wrong with that—it’s just not at all how I expected my life to turn out. Still, I’m honestly really excited about it. I had a great time bowling with Jake, and having a job where I get to hang out with a cool little kid seems like a fun way to spend the months before I move to California.

It will be a good reset, especially considering that my last several weeks in Chicago were pretty fucking awful.

Still, my stomach gives a little flutter of nerves as I stare out at Sawyer’s house, although I can’t place exactly why. It’s partly because I really don’t want to mess this up, but there’s something else too. Maybe it’s because I’ve been living by myself for the past several years, and I’m sure it’ll be an adjustment living with other people again. Or maybe it’s because the annoying little crush I used to have on Sawyer seems to have resurfaced since yesterday, and I’m worried that I’ll act like an awkward idiot around him.

“Ms. Violet!”

A little voice calls my name, pulling me out of my thoughts.

Oh well. Too late to back out now .

I open my car door just as Jake comes racing across the front lawn toward me. A beat later, Sawyer appears behind him, calling out to remind him not to run near the street.

Seeing the excitement on Jake’s face dispels my nerves. He’s just a little boy, and he already seems to like me a lot, so what do I have to be afraid of?

I close my car door behind me and wave to them as they approach. “Hey, guys!”

“Hi, and welcome home,” Sawyer says.

My stomach does a little flip at his choice of words, but I try not to pay it much attention. He’s not wrong, after all. This is my new home, as bizarre as that feels to say.

When they reach me, Sawyer ducks his head to examine all the boxes shoved inside my car, and I feel a flush warm my cheeks. I got rid of all of my furniture before leaving Chicago, since none of it was worth trying to transport and store. But between clothes, keepsakes, and everyday items, I still have a lot of stuff.

“Do you need any help with your things?” he asks.

I shake my head quickly. “Oh, no, that’s okay. I’ve got it.”

He cocks an eyebrow at me. “You sure about that? Looks like you’ve got quite a lot in there.”

Without waiting for an answer, he steps around to open the trunk, then grabs the largest, heaviest box and hauls it out like it’s nothing. I feel like a flustered teenager, but my stomach flutters at the show of casual strength.

“Hey, bud, why don’t you help Violet with the lighter stuff?” he instructs Jake. “But be careful, okay? We don’t want to break anything.”

“Sawyer, really, you don’t have to?—”

“I know.” He cuts me off, shooting me a warm smile. “But I want to.” He gestures Jake over with a jerk of his chin. “Come on, kiddo. Do you want to give her a hand?”

“Yeah!” The little boy exuberantly grabs a handbag full of my makeup that’s threatening to tip over in the trunk. He slings it over one shoulder and lets out a little grunt. “Whoa, Ms. Violet. You must really like makeup!”

“Watch out, or you’ll give her an excuse to use some of it on you,” Sawyer teases.

Jake bursts out laughing before heading back across the yard to the front door. I chuckle at him and grab one of the smaller boxes, then follow Sawyer into the living room.

Jake is sitting on the floor playing with his stuffed rabbit, my bag of makeup still dangling from his shoulder.

“Are you planning to give Chewy a makeover?” Sawyer asks him, and Jake scrunches his face up like he’s thinking about it.

“Like Bugs Bunny!” he says, looking thrilled at the connection to the cartoon.

“Is Chewy his name?” I ask, pointing to the stuffed animal.

“Yeah, because he likes to chew on carrots,” Jake says and motions like he’s chowing down on one himself.

Sawyer chuckles, shaking his head as he takes the makeup bag from Jake. “He’s such a goofball sometimes.” He nods toward the set of stairs by the entrance. “Your room is upstairs. Follow me, I’ll show you.”

He climbs the stairs effortlessly, and I can’t take my eyes off the muscles flexing through his t-shirt as I follow him. When we reach the second floor, we take a right and head down the hall to a mostly empty but spacious guest room.

“The bed’s a queen. I hope it’s big enough for you,” Sawyer says as he flips the light switch with his elbow. There’s a small nightstand on the left side of the bed, a dresser against one wall, and other than the fan built into the ceiling, that’s about it. But it’s more than enough for me.

“Are you kidding?” I grin, glancing around. “This room is bigger than my entire studio apartment back in Chicago. This is an upgrade.”

One corner of his mouth curves upward slightly. “Well, good.”

He crouches down carefully to set my box and the makeup bag on the floor. I set mine next to it, and Sawyer’s dark brows pull together a little as he gazes down at them.

“What?” I ask.

“Oh, nothing. Your boxes just look like they were packed in a little bit of a hurry,” he says, toying with one of the pieces of tape that’s flapping off the top.

I bite my lip, scrunching up my nose. “Yeah. I guess I was pretty ready to get out of Chicago. And packing has never been my forte.”

“Well, I guess we all have our strengths and weaknesses.”

“Good thing for me one of your strengths seems to be your… well, strength,” I joke, gesturing to him and then to the box he just set down.

A chuckle rumbles in Sawyer’s chest, and he flexes a bicep. “Perks of being a hockey player,” he says with a wink.

I know he’s kidding around, but I have to force myself not to stare at the way the veins in his forearms pop. Sawyer’s arms are amazing, his biceps stretching the fabric of his t-shirt just a little in a way that makes my mouth go dry.

Fortunately, he doesn’t seem to be expecting a response to that. Rapping his knuckles on the doorframe, he leaves the room, heading for the stairs again. I follow him back to the living room, but when we reach the front door, he turns to face me.

“You know what? I’ve got this. If you just want to hang out with Jake for a bit, I can bring in the rest of your things.”

“What? Are you sure?”

He lifts a shoulder in a casual shrug. “Strength, remember? Besides, you’re supposed to be a nanny, not a mover.”

I laugh, holding my hands up and grinning. “Alright, if you insist.”

“I do.”

“Then… thanks.”

He gives me a little salute, then heads outside. I’m not at all disappointed about not having to work up a sweat hauling all of that stuff into the house, but I do feel a bit guilty about letting him do all the work. Still, I can’t deny that I’m grateful for his help. I didn’t have anyone to help me pack up my things when I left my apartment in Chicago—most of my friends there were people I knew from work, and a lot of them abandoned me after things turned sour at my job. Just another reason why I needed to put that city in my rearview.

Brushing my hands over my jeans, I turn and settle onto the couch next to Jake.

“Guess it’s just you and me for a bit,” I tell him with a grin.

“Can we watch TV?” he asks excitedly. “I can show you my favorite show!”

I purse my lips, tugging them to one side. “Hmm, I don’t know. We should probably ask your dad first.”

I have no idea what Sawyer’s TV policy is for Jake, and I’d rather get the full rundown on that before I say yes or no. I want Jake to like me, but I’m not looking to score “cool nanny” points by helping him break any rules his dad might have set.

Jake shrugs, thankfully unbothered. “Okay.”

“So, tell me more about Chewy. How old is he? Where did you get him?”

The little boy’s face lights up as he picks the googly-eyed, fluffy rabbit up off the couch. “He’s seven, like me. My dad bought him for me when I was born.”

“Aw, that’s cute. So you’re best friends for life.”

“Yup! Just me and Chewy.”

“Did you name him, or did your dad?”

“I did. We used to eat carrots together. That’s where I got it.”

“Makes perfect sense,” I say, and Jake nods sagely.

Sawyer enters carrying two boxes stacked on top of each other, smiles at us, and hauls them upstairs.

“Are you sure you don’t want any help?” I call after him.

“Positive,” he calls back.

“Alright. Is it okay if Jake watches TV?”

“Normally, I’d say no, but today is a bit different,” Sawyer calls, and I hear him grunt softly as he sets the boxes down. His footsteps echo through the room as he comes back downstairs. “He was a big helper after school, getting the guest room all ready for you, so I guess a little TV won’t hurt.”

“Yay!” Jake perks up excitedly. Within minutes, he’s pulled up his favorite show, Bluey, and is watching the animated dogs with rapt attention.

With Jake happily occupied, I glance up at Sawyer as he approaches the couch.

“What’s his normal schedule in the mornings?” I ask in a low voice.

“He gets dropped off at school at eight forty-five. Usually, he’s up well before that, but if he sleeps later than usual, you’ll want to make sure to wake him around seven-thirty to give him plenty of time for breakfast and getting ready. He can be a bit slow moving in the morning,” Sawyer answers, and I nod. All of that makes perfect sense.

“And when is his bedtime?”

“He conks out early, typically around eight o’clock.”

“Ah, to be a kid again.”

Sawyer huffs a laugh. “Exactly. I miss those days too.”

I nod along as he fills me in on other details of Jake’s schedule, and when he finishes, I ask, “Is there anything you expect me to do around the house?”

“Just the typical nanny stuff, I guess.” Sawyer flushes slightly, looking a bit embarrassed. “Honestly, this is my first time having live-in help with Jake, so I’m not entirely sure what the usual parameters are. But things like getting Jake’s lunch ready for the next day, making sure he gets a snack after he gets home—stuff like that would be a huge help. Does that sound doable for you?”

“Absolutely,” I tell him, nodding emphatically. “And it’s my first time being a nanny, so we can fumble our way through it together.”

He smiles, his eyes crinkling a little at the corners, and the way it softens the hard lines of his face makes my heart thud a little harder against my ribs. “I like the sound of that.”

Sawyer grabs another couple of boxes from my car, and I watch him head up the stairs and come back down a few minutes later. But when he goes to leave the house for another round of my things, I realize I can’t stand to let him do it all. Jake is fully preoccupied with Bluey, so I hop off the couch and follow Sawyer outside.

He flashes me a look, but I shrug. “I’m sorry, my old-fashioned values won’t let me watch you do all the work.”

He laughs, his gray eyes glinting with amusement. “Can’t argue with that.”

We walk back to my car, which has several items still laid out across the back seat. Sawyer reaches for the last thing from the trunk, an oversized, overstuffed suitcase. My heart skips a beat, and I rush to his side.

“Oh, don’t worry about that one! I’ll get it.”

I try to intercept him, but he grabs the handle of the bag and hoists it out of the trunk before I can grab it.

“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 exactly what I 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’s not what 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 on top 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.”

“No problem.” Sawyer nods, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I guess I’ll, uh, leave you to it.” He winces a little as he realizes how his words came out. “That’s not what I—never mind. I’ll let you unpack.”

Oh god, could this get any more awkward?

“Right.” I slip my hands into my back pockets, certain that my palms are sweating. “Thank you.”

Sawyer steps around me, heading for the door. But he pauses in the doorway, turning to look back at me. “I should be thanking you. Jake is so excited to have you here.”

I smile, tucking a wayward lock of hair behind my ear. “I’m excited too.”

He leaves the room, and as I dive into unpacking and organizing my things, I can’t help but roll my eyes at myself. I’ve never been a super awkward person or the type to get flustered easily, but I’m now two for two with my gorgeous new boss.

“You’d better find a way to get your shit together, girl,” I murmur to myself as I bury the vibrator at the very back of the top drawer in the dresser. “Or it’s gonna be a long three months.”