The main sitting room was dim, lit only by a single lamp in the corner, casting long shadows across the area Hazel’s travel cot usually occupied. It was gone.
My heart kicked like I’d missed a gear. For a split second, exhaustion vanished, replaced by cold, electric panic.
Where was she?
“Griffin?” Violet’s voice called from the kitchenette, warm and familiar, saving me from the spiral. “That you?”
“Yeah.” I moved fast, cutting across the marble, my gaze still flicking back to the empty space in the living room. “Where’s Hazel?”
Violet appeared in the doorway, mug in hand, wearing nothing but the shirt with MICHAELS 7 emblazoned across her chest and a pair of tiny black knickers that almost made my heart stop.
“She’s with Cleo and Imani tonight,” Violet said. She handed me the mug and continued, her tone softening as she read the worry in my eyes. “One floor down. They practically wrestled her from me. I have their room number, they have my number, and they promised to call if she so much as hiccups.”
She crossed her arms, the shirt stretching tight across her chest. “It’s the first night you’ve been away from her. It’s okay to be worried.”
I was. The suite felt wrong, like a limb was missing. But seeing Violet so damn beautiful and at ease, it sent a different kind of energy buzzing through me.
“Good,” I said, my lips curling up in a lazy but triumphant smile. “Because I’ve just had a brilliant idea.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh god. What?”
“We should go out. Celebrate properly.” The exhaustion was a distant memory now, replaced by the sudden, urgent need to do something for us. “I’ll book us a table somewhere nice, quiet. We can have dinner, some wine. Whatever you want.”
I’d eaten but that wouldn’t stop me spoiling her.
Violet stared at me for a beat, then she burst out laughing. It was a bright, musical sound that made my chest ache with how much I loved it.
“You’re ridiculous,” she said, shaking her head. “You’ve just won the Austin Grand Prix. You’re the biggest name in this city tonight. Where exactly do you think we could go for a ‘quiet’ dinner without causing an international incident?”
She had a point. But the part of me that was a hopeless romantic sap where she was concerned didn’t care about logic.
“I’ll wear a hat.”
“That didn’t work last time and it won’t work now.” She laughed again, walking toward me. She stopped just out of reach, her eyes dancing with amusement. “Besides, I can think of much better ways to celebrate your win. Right here,” she said, her voice dropping, low and suggestive.
I closed the distance between us. “Is that so?”
“Mmmhmm.” Her fingers traced the collar of my polo shirt. “We have the entire suite to ourselves. No baby monitors. Just us.” She met my gaze, her own dark and full of promises. “I think we can find something to do to fill the time.”
My hands gripped the hem of her shirt and I rubbed the soft, worn fabric between my fingers.
“You wore my name today,” I murmured, my voice thick.
“It was just clothing, Griffin. Don’t let it go to your ego.”
“Bollocks.” I backed her up until her legs bumped against the sofa. “It wasn’t just a shirt. Do you have any idea what it did to me? Seeing you in the crowd, holding Hazel, wearing my number…”
“Enlighten me,” she whispered, her hands coming up to rest on my chest.
The kettle clicked off in the kitchen, but neither of us moved. The world had shrunk to the space between our bodies.
“It was thrilling,” I said, my voice dropping lower. “Like having a secret waved under everyone’s nose and they had no bloody idea.” I traced the curve of her hip through the fabric. “You walked around all day with my name on your back, and no one knew it was because you are sleeping in my bed. That you belong to me.”
“I don’t belong to anyone,” she breathed, but her body melted into mine, belying her words.
“Don’t you?” I leaned down, my lips brushing against her ear. “Then why does it feel so right to have you wearing my name? You wore it for me, Vi. Admit it.”
A soft shiver ran through her. “You are pathologically sure of yourself.”
