“Can you help me with this?” I turned my back to Atticus so he could help me zip up my dress. We were getting dressed for dinner.

It was a private dinner that some important guests were attending, and I still had no idea how Atticus mistook it for a gala. I shivered involuntarily as his hands brushed my naked back when he wanted to adjust the dress so he could zip it.

“Thank you,” I told him after he was done. He had buttoned his shirt halfway, so I turned so I could help him button ...