Page 9 of Icebound Hearts
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 freakingnanny,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 reallyexcited 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. Thisismy 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. Butbetween 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.