I step closer and lower my voice. “Violet.”
“Where would you like the table, ma’am?” one of the movers asks.
She doesn’t hesitate.
“Oh—this way.” She sets the curtain rod in place, turns, and heads toward the kitchen. “Right here.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “When did I lose control of my own house?”
Why am I letting her?
The movers go back outside for the chairs.
“Violet, we need to talk.”
She looks at me, then heads to the bag on the living room floor. “You’ll have to follow me. I want to get these curtains hung.”
I run a hand through my hair. “Violet,” I huff.
She gives me a dazzling smile. “Don’t get your boxers in a bunch. I’ll take care of everything.”
She strolls past me, heading for the kitchen. I can’t help but admire her ass in those jeans.
Stop it.
I snap out of my daze and follow her. “I’ve got it covered.”
She slowly turns to look at me. “That’s why you didn’t have curtains. Or a TV.”
“I would’ve handled it.”
“Now you don’t have to.” She puts the curtain on the rod. “Don’t be embarrassed.”
“I’m not.”
She shrugs. “Don’t worry. These curtains will let in the perfect amount of light.”
The movers stroll into the room with the chairs.
“Bedroom suite is next,” one of them says to her.
“Okay. I’ll meet you back there.” Violet strolls out of the kitchen before I can get a word out.
I huff out a breath, then spin around.
Sebastian has that shit-eating grin on his face. It aggravates me even more.
I hear Ivy’s voice, and suddenly, all hell breaks loose.
A gray and white blur flies past me.
“Luna!” Ivy yells.
The kitten bolts down the hallway toward the open front door.
I take off running at the same time Violet does—and crash right into her.
“Ow.”
