Deadly Cover-Up. Julie Lindsey Anne
Violet’s gaze traveled over his perfect chest to the jaw-dropping eight-pack abs below. A dusting of dark hair began beneath his belly button and vanished unfairly into his waistband.
“Oh.” He looked down at himself. “Sorry. Bad habits.” Wyatt disappeared into the next room and returned in a clingy black T-shirt. “Eat up. Big day.”
Violet tried to hide her disappointment at the change of scenery and discreetly checked for drool. “What’s on the agenda?” she asked, settling Maggie into the legless high chair clinging to the kitchen table’s edge.
“I’m headed into town,” Wyatt said, taking a seat beside Maggie with his loaded plate.
Violet turned for the counter and prepped a bottle of formula, then dug through her diaper bag for Maggie’s favorite yellow container of Cheerios. “Breakfast is served,” she said, delivering the pair to Maggie. Violet lifted her eyes to Wyatt. “What’s happening in town?”
“I’m going to talk to folks,” he said. “See what they have to say about your grandma and anything else that might be turning the rumor mill.” He sipped his coffee and smiled at Maggie.
She threw a Cheerio at him and missed by a mile.
Violet went to pour a cup of coffee. Clearly, Maggie could hold her own.
Maggie’s squeal of delight spun Violet on her toes.
Wyatt bit into a slice of bacon, utterly straight-faced while her daughter clapped and laughed.
“What are you doing?” Violet asked, enjoying the rush of pleasure at seeing her baby smile.
Wyatt chewed and swallowed slowly. “What?”
“Maggie squealed.”
Wyatt glanced innocently at the pudgy-cheeked princess. “She did?”
Violet narrowed her eyes in a ruse of disapproval. “You know she did. You’re sitting right beside her.” She dropped her gaze to pull out a chair, and Maggie cracked up again. This time, Violet caught sight of Wyatt’s pink tongue sticking out sideways before he pulled it back in. “Did you just make a face at my baby?”
“No, ma’am.”
“I saw you make a face at her,” Violet insisted, trying hard not to smile around the edge of her coffee mug. “You lied to me.”
Wyatt slid serious brown eyes toward Maggie. “Snitch.”
Maggie rocked and bebopped in her seat, eyes fixed tightly on Wyatt.
He wiped his mouth and set the napkin on the table beside his already-empty plate. “Okay. Truth? I’ve made several faces at your daughter this morning.”
Maggie blew raspberries until spit bubbles piled on her chin.
“Oh!” Violet giggled. “Maggie!” She wiped her baby’s chin and let the laughter grow. “I’ve never seen her do that before.” A tear slid from the corner of one eye as she dotted Maggie’s nose with the napkin. “What a nut.”
Wyatt winked at Maggie before turning back to Violet. “What are your plans today? Do you want to join me in town before we visit Mrs. Ames, or would you rather see her first, then head into town afterward?”
The words were innocent enough, but they itched and scratched at Violet’s heart and mind. She’d known Wyatt less than a day and suddenly it seemed as if they were playing house. When were they visiting Grandma? When were they going into town? They. Violet, Maggie and Wyatt.
She took a moment to absorb the scene around her.
A handsome, attentive man had made her breakfast. He’d made her daughter laugh, and he’d unwittingly made Violet think of things that were impossible. Like a cute little nuclear family of her own. She felt so incredibly stupid. The connection she imagined between herself and Wyatt obviously boiled down to him being the first man who was kind to her following Maggie’s birth and nothing more. He was simply being professional. He was there to do a job, not fulfill Violet’s fantasies. And she needed to get a grip.
Violet pressed a hand discreetly to her tummy, quashing leftover butterflies. “No. Thank you.” She couldn’t allow herself to think impossible things. It wasn’t fair to her or Maggie. And what was wrong with her anyway? Since when was she so eager to have a man in her life? Things were good already. “I think we’ll visit Grandma on our own,” she said. “You can do what you need to do, and we’ll catch up with you later.”
Violet pushed onto her feet and carried her still-full mug and plate to the sink. With her back securely facing the table, she squeezed her eyes shut and pulled herself together. Lots of people made babies laugh. Wyatt wasn’t the first or the last, and she couldn’t get attached to him because of it. Much as she wanted a traditional family for Maggie, the kind with a mommy and a daddy who kissed goodbye and held hands while they watched TV, Wyatt wasn’t that guy.
She opened her eyes and straightened her expression before turning back to the duo making goofy faces at the table. “We should probably get going.”
Wyatt tipped his head in that unsettling way, the one that made her feel as if he could see straight through her. “You sure you don’t want me to come with you?”
“Yep.” She pushed nervous fingers into the back pockets of her shorts. “We’re fine, and we don’t want to keep you from your work. The sooner we know what really happened to Grandma, the better. If she’s awake when we get to the hospital, I’ll call you so you can come by and talk with her in person.”
His thick black brows knit together. “All right.”
Violet pulled Maggie into her arms and posed her on one hip, then gathered her bottle and Cheerios in the other hand. “Have a good day.”
VOICES OF HAPPY children rang through the speakers inside Violet’s little yellow hatchback. The CD of nursery rhymes lightened her heavy mood as she fought through a fresh bout of worry for her grandma.
Sunlight streamed over the hills to her left, dashing the street in shards of amber and gold light. Puffy white clouds sailed in the brilliant blue dome above. It was a perfect day for a drive, and Violet had desperately needed to clear her head.
Putting some distance between herself and the sexy soldier guarding Grandma’s home was just a bonus. She recalled seeing him pull up in his big black truck, check out the house and shuffle through papers on his dashboard. When he’d climbed out and stood as tall as a house, complete with cowboy hat and boots, her heart had given an irresponsible thud.
“Dumb,” she muttered, taking another look at the rear-facing car seat in back. Maggie didn’t need a daddy any more than Violet needed a boyfriend or husband.
The two of them were doing just fine on their own.
She smiled and returned her eyes to the road ahead. Flyers for the county fair waved and rippled on passing telephone poles, stapled beside missing pet posters and garage sale signs.
A half heartbeat later, her thoughts swept back to the shirtless man making her breakfast. Surely that wasn’t part of his contract.
The gentle hum of an approaching engine edged into Violet’s thoughts, erasing the memory of Wyatt seated beside Maggie at the breakfast table. The sound grew steadily louder, and Violet searched in every direction for the source of the aggressive hum.
Her little hatchback hugged the next curve, dropping low over a hill and into a valley just two miles from the county hospital. She forced her attention back to the road, but her roaming eyes returned to the rearview mirror with a snap.
A battered blue-and-white demolition derby car roared earsplittingly into view behind her as she crested the next hill.
Maggie’s car seat rocked in