DREW
The whole way home,all I can think about is Violet.
Her eyes, deep and striking, almost violet in the right light. Her bright, mesmerizing smile. And her hair—bright, fiery, and impossible to ignore.
But it was the way she looked at me that really made me feel special. Like I was the only man in the room. The only one who existed.
It was flattering.
So why did it feel like something else, too?
Something I couldn’t name. Or maybe it’s that I don’t want to.
I pullinto the driveway and cut the engine, sitting there for a second longer than necessary.
Her voice still lingers inside my head. Especially the way she said my name with an air of familiarity.
Then I frown.
Her expensive car. Her lavish house. She’s way out of my league.
What the hell would she want with an average-looking, divorced, thirty-year-old accountant?
Nothing. That’s what.
With a sigh, I get out of my car and head to the front door. The hair on the back of my neck stands up like someone’s watching me.
I look around, but don’t see anyone.
Weird.Must be residual paranoia from my brother’s wife stalking him.
I step through the front door, my keys still in hand.
Mr. Pickles trots over and sits down, staring at me. His tail flicks once, then twice.
“Oh, God. What did you do?”
The cat’s ears twitch and he gives me a look like,“Good luck figuring it out.”
I sigh as he walks away, shooting a devious look over his shoulder.
“Your cat is a menace,” I say to my brother as I enter the kitchen.
Sebastian leans against the counter like he’s been waiting for this moment. His eyes are sharp, like he already knows too much.
He smirks. “Oh, this should be good.”
“I don’t know what he’s done but?—”
“Not the cat.”
I frown, playing dumb. “What?”
“That look on your face,” he says, pushing off the counter. “Fairly certain it’s courtesy of a fiery redhead named Violet.”
I scoff, heading for the fridge. “I don’t have a look on my face.”
“Yes, you do.”
