I gestured to the stairs, and without another word, she turned and headed up them.
Four months. Just four months of her in my house, in my space, in my head.
I could handle it.
Ihadto.
Ipushed open the door to the spare room. It looked about as welcoming as a holding cell— bare walls, a bed, a dresser, and not much else. I never had guests who actually needed to sleep.
Violet nodded. “This will work. I’ll need the bassinet in here.”
“Why?”
“Because Hazel will need night feeds, and I’m not running across the house every two hours.”
I frowned. “You’re taking her?”
“Would you rather get up every couple of hours?”
“No, but?—”
“Then yes, I’m taking her.” Violet adjusted Hazel in her arms. “Unless you have a better suggestion?”
I didn’t. The thought of waking up repeatedly throughout the night made my stomach twist. I needed sleep. I needed to be sharp for the next race.
And yet, the idea of handing Hazel off to someone else, even temporarily, sparked an unexpected pang of... something. Not quite guilt. Not quite possessiveness.
I exhaled, forcing my shoulders to relax. “Fine. Take her.”
“Good. Then we’re agreed.” She scanned the room with an assessing eye. “I’ll need to order a bassinet online. If I get next-day delivery, it should be here tomorrow.”
“Great. Can’t wait to fill my house with more shit I don’t know how to use.”
Violet ignored me. “We’ll need a changing table as well.”
I frowned. “What’s wrong with using the kitchen counter?”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath like she was summoning patience from another dimension.
“I’m not even going there.” She started back down the stairs, not bothering to wait for me. “I’ll order a crib and a bunch of other things from a flat-pack place online once I get her down for the night. You’ll need to leave me your card.”
“Right.” I trailed after her. “Because nothing says trust like handing my credit card to Julian Carter’s daughter.”
She stopped, turning to face me. “You think I want your money?”
“I think you’re enjoying this. Playing the hero, swooping in to fix everything.”
Her jaw tightened. “You don’t know anything about me.”
She continued down the stairs without another word.
I glowered at the back of her head.
She reached the living room and placed Hazel down in her car seat. The baby stirred but stayed asleep, her mouth parting on a sigh.
“She deserves better than this, Griffin.”
I knew that. Knew it in a way that felt like a punch to the ribs.
