Chapter 62: Dixie

DIXIE HURT.

All over.

It was worse than that time her in-laws had thought it would be fun to take her skiing.

She groaned and lifted a hand to her face.

Her cheek...

She traced the bone and down to her jaw. That was the wrong shape. It felt funny.

What the hell happened last night?

The pub crawl.

Divorce shots.

So much laughing she'd gotten sick to her stomach from it.

And then...everything got pretty fuzzy. What had she done to herself?

Dixie needed to see the damage.

She pushed the light blanket and sheet down her body. She felt the hand on her waist before she saw it.

A large hand with neatly trimmed nails rested against her ribs. The skin was tan and the hair at the wrist a light, golden brown.

That was not her ex-husband's hand, and that certainly wasn't his wrist. His nails were always ripped. His skin was paler and his hair dark. And he never, ever touched her while she slept.

What had she done last night?