Page 7 of Icebound Hearts
Jake’s little face scrunches up as he searches his memory. “I think so. The pretty blonde lady?”
My heart stutters slightly because his description is way too accurate, but I ignore the sudden memory of her soft curves and nod at him in the mirror. “Yeah, that’s her. She’s meeting us at the bowling alley.”
“Why?”
“Well, we want to see if you two are a good fit. If so, she might become a sort of all-the-time babysitter for you. At least for a few months.”
“Oh.” His eyes widen. “Whoa.”
I can tell he’s a bit taken aback by the idea, mostly because I’ve resisted getting a nanny for him up to this point. I just never felt like I found anyone I could trust enough to be with him full-time, no one I felt like I could hand that much responsibility to. Reese and the other guys have been on me for months about it, encouraging me to find someone to ease the load on myself and make things easier for both Jake and me.
But if this ends up working out with Violet, it will be a big adjustment for us both. It’s just been the two of us living in the house ever since my split with Miriam several years ago.
Traffic is surprisingly light for this time of day, so we pull into the parking lot at Strike Zone right on time. As I help Jake out of the car and we start walking toward the entrance, I spot Violet waving at us from one of the big windows by the door.
She’s clearly very punctual, which is a good sign.
“Hi, Sawyer. Hi, Jake,” she says when we walk inside.
I nod in greeting, and Jake clings to my hand, leaning into me a little.
“Hi,” he replies tentatively.
She leans down to be more on his level, and my eyes unconsciously follow the movement. The image of her pale skin and the way her damp hair clung to her shoulders flashes through my mind again, and I shake my head slightly to clear it.
“Where’s your bunny?” she asks Jake. “He didn’t want to come bowling?”
Jake giggles, loosening his grip on my hand. “Bunnies can’t bowl. Everyone knows that.”
“Oh. Right.” Violet nods, putting on a very serious expression that makes Jake laugh again. “Of course.”
“Should we knock down some pins?” I suggest.
“Yeah!” Jake nods enthusiastically.
We check in and put on our rented bowling shoes, then follow Jake to lane seven, which is his favorite. There’s rarely a big crowd on a weekday like this, so we often have our pick of the place, but he always wants this lane.
“Come on, Ms. Violet, I’ll help you pick a ball,” he says, grabbing her hand and tugging her toward the series of ball racks along the back wall.
I watch them analyze balls together, picking them up and seeing how the weight and shape feel. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but I can tell from the expression on Violet’s face that she’s having a good time with my son, and he definitely seems like he’s taking to her quickly too.
That’s a good sign. Maybe Reese was right, and this will work out perfectly.
A few minutes later, they return with their balls. Jake is carrying a neon green one, the same one he always picks, and Violet’s is lavender.
Jake beams at me. “It matches her name!” he declares. “See?”
Using both hands, he heaves his ball into the rack at the lane and starts tapping around on the screen built into it. His little fingers are fast as he types in “Jake,” “Dad,” and “Vilit” as theplayers. When the names appear on the scoreboard above the lane, Violet and I share an amused look, but neither of us bother to correct him for now.
“You remember how to get the bumpers up?” I ask, looking over his shoulder at the screen, but he’s already done it. They pop up from the sides of the lane a second later, blocking the gutters, and I turn to Violet with a chuckle. “This kid’s skills with technology never fail to amaze me. He’s better at this stuff than I am.”
“That’s ’cause you’reold, Daddy,” Jake teases, then devolves into giggles when I tickle him.
“That’s right, I am. So show your old man some respect.”
He laughs harder, and when I glance over at Violet, she’s watching us with a soft half-smile on her face, her lower lip trapped between her teeth. Our gazes lock for a moment, and she quickly straightens in her seat, as if a bit embarrassed to have been caught watching us.
“Ready to play?” she asks. “Jake, do you want to go first?”