Corps. Country. Family,” Violet groused.
“Exactly.”
Exactly. Violet set her broom aside and went to see what she could clean in the dining room.
Wyatt Stone might be kind, sexy and undeniably charming, but that marine motto had pulled her back to reality. The truth was that men like Wyatt would always put family last.
And that would never be good enough for Maggie.
Violet woke on a gasp of air. Her heart caught in her throat as the faceless monster of her dreams vanished with the warmth of morning sunshine drifting through her grandma’s bedroom window. The beloved scent of her childhood was everywhere, on the pillows and sheets, in the curtains and carpet. She took a long steadying breath of the floral dime-store perfume before peering over the bed’s edge into her daughter’s portable crib.
Maggie grinned around a mouthful of her toes, drool running down her chubby cheek. She released her foot instantly, reaching tiny dimpled fists greedily toward her mama.
Violet scooped her daughter into her arms and rolled back onto the antique sleigh bed for a long snuggle. “Today will be a better day,” she promised. “We’ll go see Grandma, and the doctors will say good things, and soon we’ll be having breakfast with her instead of the enormous cowboy sleeping on the couch.”
Maggie laughed and slapped Violet’s cheek with one slobbery hand.
Ten minutes later, the Ames ladies were dressed in jean shorts and tank tops, prepared for another hot July day. Violet left her hair down, curling over her shoulders to her ribs, instead of pulled coolly into a ponytail. She told herself it wasn’t for Wyatt’s sake despite the already rising temperatures.
There was something about the way he’d turned those knowing brown eyes on her last night. The way he’d watched and listened to her, seeming to perceive everything, as if he could read her mind.
Given the handful of inappropriate things she’d fallen asleep thinking about, all starring him, she was thankful to be wrong about the mind reading.
Violet braced her shoulder against the curved wooden headboard and put her weight into shoving the bed away from the door. Barricading the room seemed silly by the light of day, but she wasn’t exactly the best judge of men and inviting one the size of Wyatt to sleep over had seemed questionable after she’d come upstairs.
Doorway clear, Violet popped Maggie into a baby sling and headed silently downstairs to start breakfast without waking Wyatt. Six fifteen was early for anyone. It had to be an unthinkable hour for someone who had needed caffeine to stay awake at ten last night.
The beloved scent of fresh-brewed coffee met her in the stairwell as she descended into the kitchen, and Violet hurried toward it. Could Wyatt be awake already? And have had time to make coffee?
His bare back came into view a moment later, and she stopped to appreciate the way his low-slung basketball shorts gripped his trim waist, accentuating his ridiculously broad shoulders and thick, muscular arms.
“Hungry?” he asked without a single look in her direction. It was the second time he’d seemed to magically know she was there.
Violet moved casually into the kitchen, pretending not to have been ogling him. “I thought you’d be asleep.”
Wyatt shuffled scrambled eggs around one of her grandma’s iron pans and smiled over his shoulder. “I like to run before dawn. Watch the sun rise. Clear my head for a new day.”
Violet gave a small laugh. “You’ve already been out for a run?” The only thing she liked to do before dawn was sleep.
“Sure. A run. A shower. Breakfast. I brought some aerial photos of your grandma’s land with me in case I needed them this week, so I used them as guides and went around the property’s edge. It worked nicely because I didn’t want to go far from here without letting you know I’d be out. I wasn’t sure when Maggie would wake.”
Violet worked to shut her mouth. He remembered Maggie’s name? She’d only introduced her once, and her baby had been asleep the whole time.
“Mrs. Ames has a nice setup here,” he said. “Nearly fifty acres. Some of it is being farmed on the back side. Looks like she rents that to a local farmer. Everything near the house is incredibly peaceful, and there’s a beautiful lake past the rose gardens.”
Violet nodded. The rose gardens were her grandma’s pride and joy. She raised blue-ribbon winners almost every year. The lake had always been Violet’s favorite outdoor spot, especially in the summer. There was a nice breeze under the willows and when that didn’t keep her cool, the shaded waters of the lake did.
Wyatt flicked the knob on Grandma’s stove to Off. He shoved rich, buttery-scented eggs onto a plate and ushered them to the kitchen table, already set for two. “I helped myself to the fridge.” A grimace worked over his face. “I hope that’s okay. I plan to replace everything I used when I go into town. Just thought you’d be ready to eat once you woke.”
Violet blinked. “Thank you.”
He returned to the stove and levered fat strips of bacon from a second bubbling pan, then layered them on an oblong plate heavy with napkins to soak up the grease. “I grew up on a farm like this. Ours was a horse farm, but this place reminds me an awful lot of home.”
“Good times?” she guessed by the wistful look on his face.
“Every. Single. Day.” He tossed a red checkered towel over one shoulder and delivered the bacon to the table.
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
