Deadly Cover-Up

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“Tanya.” She met her cousin at the room’s center and gave her a gentle hug, careful not to wake Maggie. “Any news?”

“Not yet,” she said, rubbing Violet’s arm when she stepped out of the embrace. “Dr. Shay says everything looks good, and we should be patient. Grandma will wake when she’s ready. Until then, we just have to wait. She’s been through a lot and it can take time to overcome an accident like this one. How are you and this little princess holding up?”

Violet stroked Maggie’s back and her sleeping baby released a contented sigh. “We’re okay.”

“Good.” Tanya smiled. “I’ll be here as often as I can, and I’ll keep you posted if her condition changes. Grandma’s tough, Violet,” she assured. “She’ll be fine.”

Violet nodded. Grandma would find the strength to recover, and Violet would be there to help every step of the way. Until then, Violet needed to stick a little closer to the former ranger at Grandma’s house. Violet had no intention of testing her luck with another burglar or demolition derby car, and she was certain he would have no problems handling either.

Of course, spending too much time with an attentive and sexy man like Wyatt Stone was going to pose a few problems of its own. Beginning with how to keep her undeniable attraction to him from blurring the lines of their reality.

Chapter Five (#ua6dc2e29-06fd-5812-88a9-11c78edf14bb)

An engine roared outside the front window of Grandma’s home. Violet jumped, still edgy from her run-in with the demolition derby car this morning. She’d called the police as soon as she got home and the woman who’d answered had promised to send an officer out to take the report, but she doubted any of the deputies would be racing to get to her.

Her heart sprinted and her palms grew slick as she moved carefully toward the front window to check the driveway. Maggie was asleep in her crib, but Violet could get to her and be outside in under a minute if she had to. She pulled the curtain’s corner back with trembling fingertips, scolding herself once more for not taking Wyatt’s suggestion to stick together today.

Relief washed through her chest at the sight of Wyatt’s truck, back in the driveway. He was already making his way up the front steps in long, anxious strides.

Fresh terror rent Violet’s heart as she took in his grim expression. Whatever had drawn that kind of fear on Wyatt’s face was surely something for her to worry about. “Wyatt?” she asked, opening the door with an anxious tug. “What’s wrong?”

His steps faltered a moment as his eyes landed on hers. “You’re okay,” he said, sounding half awed and half stricken. “Someone said a car fitting your vehicle’s description was run off the road this morning. I thought for sure it was you. I tried calling. You didn’t answer.” His exacting gaze lingered on her face, her neck, her chest. “You’re frightened. Breathing hard. Your cheeks are flushed. It was you, wasn’t it?”

Emotion swept up from her core, taking her by surprise. “I called the police, then I worried that the car’s driver would somehow know I tattled and come revving up the street looking for me. It’s ridiculous. I know. I’m sorry I didn’t answer.”

“You need to save my number. When I call, I need you to answer.”

Violet nodded. “Of course. I will next time.”

“Did you get a look at the driver or the license plate?”

“No plate, and I couldn’t see the driver through the tint and glare. It was crazy, though. He came out of nowhere,” she said, hating the tremor in her voice. “He kept honking. Gunning his engine. Maggie was screaming.”

Wyatt stepped closer and raised one tentative arm, an offering of comfort, hers to accept or deny. Violet hesitated. She didn’t want to cry on a near-stranger’s shoulder, but she needed the comfort, and she’d never see Wyatt again once this was over. So maybe she could be a little bit of a mess if she needed to be.

She fell against the strength of his chiseled chest and wrapped her arms around his back. His heart pounded strong and steady beneath her ear. His clothes and skin smelled of cologne and body wash, and Violet inhaled deeply.

A very long moment later, his arms circled her back, engulfing her, drawing her close in a powerful embrace. “It’s okay,” he said. “You’re okay.”

She rocked her cheek against his soft black T-shirt. “Thank you. For being here. For coming to help Grandma and for staying now. I don’t know what I would do here alone. I don’t know if it’s safe to stay, or if it’s safer to go. If I leave, what happens to Grandma? If I stay, what might happen to Maggie?”

Wyatt curved his tall frame over her, lowering his mouth to her cheek. “I will protect you, your grandma and your daughter. You can trust me on that, and when I find out who is behind these violent acts, he will wish I hadn’t.”

Violet shivered. The words were flat and controlled, not spoken in anger, just statements of fact and strangely horrifying. Still, she wanted the promise to be true. “Thank you.”

The bark of a police siren jerked her upright. She loosened her grip on him as she attempted to disentangle her arms from his waist.

Wyatt held her firm, locking his fingers against the small of her back. “I told the sheriff we were a couple,” he whispered. “We shouldn’t ruin the facade.”

Violet tipped back, arching to study his blank soldier face and pressing their torsos tighter still. “What? Why?” Was that something he’d actually considered?

“He had a lot of questions,” Wyatt said. “I ran into him in town, and I didn’t want to out myself as private security.”

“Right.” She nodded. This wasn’t about her. He simply needed a cover story. He didn’t want to be her boyfriend. That was a fantasy she’d already let go too far. Besides, she knew firsthand that when men swept in to save the day, they were always gone in the morning. And Violet didn’t need drama in her life. She needed stability.

The deputy marched in their direction, one hand at the brim of his hat. “Miss Ames?”

“Yes.” Violet stepped away from Wyatt. She wrapped an arm across her middle, defending against the coolness that settled in his absence. She shook the deputy’s hand. “This is Wyatt Stone, my boyfriend.” She cleared her throat as the last word lodged there awkwardly.