Where the Snow Falls (Seasons of Betrayal #2)(13)

Violet came awake slowly, knowing she was going to regret opening her eyes once she did. Already, the brightness of daylight was seeping through her closed lids, and there would be no getting out of waking up once she saw the sun.

Wasn’t Chicago supposed to be overcast and gray?

She wanted another three hours of sleep, at least. After a plane ride, and then a long enough drive to get to their destination, it had been closing in on well after two in the morning.

Violet yanked the soft duvet higher over her head in an attempt to pretend she hadn’t seen the damn sunlight.

“Ah, no,” she heard said from somewhere to her right. “You’re not going back to sleep. It’s almost noon. You need food, yes? I’m hungry too, Violet.”

That was the only warning she had gotten before the duvet was tugged on hard enough to pull it off her entirely. Glaring, Violet watched a laughing Kaz walk out of the bedroom with a two finger wave.

Ass.

At least it’s a nice ass, she thought.

It took her another ten minutes before she convinced herself to get out of the comfortable bed and attempt to get ready for the day—afternoon.

Whatever.

Violet didn’t do well with the lack of sleep. She wasn’t going to pretend otherwise, either. As she went in search of something to put on, she took in the surroundings of the bedroom. She hadn’t been able to do much of that the night before, as she’d been too tired.

The four-poster bed sat against the back wall with matching nightstands on either side. Despite the neutral shades present throughout the room, someone had clearly taken their time decorating the space to make it feel more welcoming.

Settling on the dress shirt Kaz had left tossed aside the night before, Violet decided that was good enough until she actually had to get dressed. It wasn’t as if they were going to be entertaining a plethora of visitors, surely.

And maybe Violet liked that a little bit.

She liked the thought of a stretch of uninterrupted time with just her and Kaz. Something they really hadn’t been able to have together before. Something else was always getting in the way—their fathers, his job, her curfews.

Those things didn’t exist here.

Violet decided to stop being grumpy about being woke up before she wanted to actually get up. There would be no phone calls sending her rushing home and no time constraints pushing them apart again.

Maybe she’d like Chicago.

For now …

The two-level townhouse sported two bedrooms upstairs and another that looked to be an office of sorts as Violet passed it on the way to the stairwell. Along the wall of the stairwell, a few pictures of a city skyline—she suspected it was Chicago—hung in a haphazard fashion.

Violet stopped for a second, staring at the pictures.

It made her wonder something.

This place wasn’t barren. The townhouse was far from empty. It was decorated, filled with furniture, and a familiar Porsche had been sitting in the driveway the night before when they’d arrived.

Violet knew Kaz had been planning this to some extent.

She just didn’t realize quite how much until now.

“Krasivaya?”

“I’m up,” Violet said, resuming her trek down the last few steps.

She passed a large living room and a second bathroom as she made her way to a black and white decorated kitchen that sported stainless steel appliances and chrome accents. Leaning in the doorway, Violet admired the sight of Kaz’s bare back as he opened a few cabinets, searching for the things he wanted.

As he pulled out instant coffee, sugar, and powder creamer, along with two cups, Violet’s smile grew a little more. Each and every shift of his body left her a little more mesmerized.

Maybe she could understand why he had always enjoyed watching her when she wasn’t looking.

Clearing her throat, Kaz acted as if she hadn’t surprised him.

“Are you happy?” she asked. “You got me up.”

“Very. The place is empty of most things to eat. We can fix that easily enough. I have a bit, though. Coffee, yes?”

Violet walked a little further into the kitchen, coming to a stop at the island. “Coffee is good.”

Kaz filled an electric kettle and turned it on before he finally turned around to face her completely. She wasn’t sure what to expect from him only a morning after they’d left New York and all the craziness they probably created in their wake.

Concern, maybe.

A little anxiety.

Stress, even.

Kaz was none of that. His smile—lax and easy—only grew as she climbed up to sit on one of the stools. He was already reaching out a hand to take one of hers, before pulling it up to press a quick kiss to her knuckles.

Smirking a bit, his gaze fell on her neck, and he said, “Unless you don’t care, I hope you have a way to cover that mark, Violet.”

She refused to feed into his teasing. “I’ll figure something out.”

“Mmm.”

“Or I won’t.”

Kaz’s brow lifted; he put her hand back down as the kettle started to boil and then clicked off shortly after. He went back to work making coffee—Violet was convinced it was one of the only things he could do well in a kitchen, besides toss out take-out containers.

“In the fruit tree,” Kaz said, offering no explanation.