over all that gorgeous muscle, but damn it, she had to be strong.
Suddenly, Dean pressed her back into the wall, the towel trapped between their bodies as he kissed her, his hand searing her thigh, hip, and side as he trailed his fingers over her skin. Violet had just looped both of her arms around his neck when rock music blared from down the hall. Dean cupped her cheek in his hand, tracing her lips with his thumb. He kissed her again, sweeping his tongue across her lips before finally pulling away.
âHold that thought.â
What thought? Every time he touches you, thought and reason go right out the window.
He disappeared into the living room. âI donât know this number.â
âI never answer numbers I donât know.â
She wrapped the towel around her body as she padded down the hallway. She had left her tote in the living room last night and wanted to check her phone, in case one of the kids needed her. Pulling the tote up onto the arm of the couch, she rummaged through it until she found her phone. When she pressed the button to light up the screen, nothing happened.
Crap, her phone had died sometime during the night.
Deanâs phone blared again.
âWhatâs the number?â
He recited off the numbers of Tracyâs cell, and she nodded. âAnswer it. Itâs Tracy. Sheâs probably been calling my phone, but itâs dead.â
âAnd now sheâs making sure youâre not in a jar in my fridge.â
âMost likely.â Tracy would have been panicked when Violet didnât answer.
Dean answered, and after several seconds of silence, he held the phone out to her.
âHey, Tracy,â Violet said, taking the phone from him. âSorry, my phone died. Howâd you get this number, anyway?â
âI asked Tyler for it when you didnât pick up. Girl, you scared me to death! Why didnât you put it on that portable charger thing I got you?â
âI forgot it at home, but no worries, Iâm fine.â Glancing at Dean, she whispered, âBetter than fine.â
âVi, honey, as much as I want to delve into all the details of your better than fine , we have a problem.â
Dread took hold. âWhatâs wrong?â
âThere was a message from Casey on my phone last night. Apparently, he was trying to get ahold of you and figured you were with me. Babe, he got arrested.â
Violet closed her eyes, fighting back the urge to cry. âFor what?â
âHe didnât say, but heâs at the juvenile facility off of Bradshaw. I already called in sick, and Tyler gave me the address to your stud muffinâs house, so I am on my way to pick you up. Weâll head over to get Casey. With any luck, he hasnât done anything that will get him any time. Hopefully we can walk in and out with little trouble.â
Violet wrapped her free arm around her middle, a comforting gesture as she turned her back on Dean. A thousand scenarios raced through her mind, each one worse than the last, and suddenly all she wanted to do was get to her brother.
âThanks, Trace, Iâll see you in a few.â
âTen four.â
Violet clicked off the call and, taking a shaky breath, turned to hand Dean his phone. âThanks.â
âYou okay?â he asked.
Violet blinked back tears, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. This was the third time Casey had been picked up by the police. They had let him off with a warning both times before and just driven him home, but last time, the officer had warned her that if it happened again, they were going to prosecute him. Once Casey had charges brought against him, she couldnât be sure Child Protective Services wouldnât come sniffing around. It wouldnât be the first time sheâd handled CPS and kept her siblings with her, but what if her luck had run out?
Strong biceps wrapped around her, and she barely noticed the fact that she was
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