Chapter Nine
She’d taken a bath and was in her nightshirt with a blanket over her legs as she relaxed on her sofa.
“Here, chamomile.” Ivy was holding a steaming mug. “It’ll help relax you.”
Her door opened, and Chris walked in, wearing work boots, blue jeans, and a T-shirt of some sports team she couldn’t make out. He was so damn attractive, yet he only had eyes for Ivy as he walked over, taking her in, his hands sliding over the small of her back and resting on her ass. Possessive, close, so in love.
“Everything good here?” he said.
Naomi was so done talking. She lifted the mug and blew, and the steam fogged up her glasses. Good, she couldn’t see anymore.
When she pulled it away and her glasses unfogged, Chris was still watching her, and Ivy was standing over her like a mother hen.
