Worth The Wait

After all that, which he considered plenty to be a conversation starter, she only glanced up at Nathan and nodded.

Talk about a tough act... “New to the neighborhood, huh?”

Her mouth tightened—a very nice, very full mouth, Hogan noticed—and then she said, “Yes.” She hesitated, pulled off her sunglasses and tried a smile. “Thank you for the welcome. The salad was delicious. I need to get going now.” She stood, her “delicious” salad only half-eaten.

Nathan and Hogan stared.

She had beautiful eyes. Calling them light brown wouldn’t have done the unique color justice. They were brown, definitely, but golden flecks lightened the color. Fox eyes, maybe. Really startling.

Hogan got it together first. “Sorry we intruded. It’s a small neighborhood. No strangers, if you know what I mean.” He offered his hand. “Hope we’ll see you around again soon. Violet—she’s the owner here—would love to meet a new face, I’m sure.”

After replacing the sunglasses, she accepted a quick handshake, her hand small in his, her grip firm. Then she gathered up stuff.

To escape.

Before she left, she paused. “You’re here often?”

“Weekends only, usually.”

Nathan said, “I usually stop in for my lunch, then sometimes on weekends, too.”

Ho, so Nathan finally found his voice? Not that Hogan could blame him. He couldn’t wait to tell Violet about this little meet and greet. She loved to observe her customers.

As the woman left, Nathan fell into step beside her. “I’ll walk you out.”

She didn’t appear all that receptive, but still Hogan smiled at Nathan’s determination.

It occurred to him that she hadn’t given her name.

* * *

Throughout the day, Hogan got reports on Violet. The first time he called, she’d been napping and he’d disturbed her. After that, he asked her to call him and he kept his phone on him. She called twice, both times asking only about the restaurant.

She tried to dodge his questions, but he played tit for tat and wouldn’t answer her questions until she answered his.

No, she hadn’t eaten.

Yes, she had slept.

Yes, she’d taken her meds.

No, she didn’t need anything.

He sent Colt over to her house with some soup the cook made and a big glass of raspberry iced tea.

To Colt, she was apparently all sweetness, at least according to Colt. He’d stayed long enough to watch her eat and to pick up afterward.

By the time Hogan finished things that night it was nearly one in the morning. He packed up Violet’s accounting records and headed out.

She was still on the couch when he let himself in. A comb hadn’t touched her hair, and she was still in the same clothes.

The second he stepped in, she stirred awake, then forced herself to sit up. “Everything went okay?”

“Of course.” Keeping the files at his side, he strode into the kitchen and set them on top of the refrigerator. He’d rather give her his suggestions and his improvements when he finished. “How do you feel?”

“I managed to brush my teeth and wash my face. That’s as far as I got.”

He couldn’t help but smile. “Would you like a bath? I’ll get it ready for you.”

She pulled the comforter to her chin. “Yeah, I just bet you would.”

“I’m not into molesting near-comatose women, I promise.”

“Huh, so you do have some standards?”

Hogan drew a breath. She was sick, making her usual wit more sarcastic and mean-spirited. “Yes,” he said evenly, “I have standards.”

Their gazes held for a moment, and then she slumped farther on the couch. “I’m sorry. I’m being a bitch and I know it. I don’t like being sick and I detest relying on—”

“Me?”

“Anyone.” She rubbed her temples. “So far Colt is the only person I’ve managed not to offend. He’s just too damned sweet to be mean to.” She glanced over at him. “You’re sure he’s yours?”

Hogan laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure. Colt looks enough like Jason, who looks like our dad, to ensure the parentage.”

Hogan knew the moment she harked back on his earlier comment about cheating women.

Despite the fever, her face paled. “Oh God, I wasn’t suggesting—”

Gently, he said, “I know.” Coming to sit by her, he brushed back her hair. “You meant it as an insult to me. Comparisons, right?” He winked to let her know he hadn’t taken offense or thought she was serious.

“Yes, a joking insult, I swear.”

Luckily, Violet knew nothing about Colt’s mother. Otherwise she might have had some real questions.

But even if Colt hadn’t been his—after all, his wife had proved herself more than deceitful—it wouldn’t have mattered. Not to his heart. Colt was his, now and forever.

“About that bath?” He tugged at the sleeve of her very rumpled T-shirt. “I can run the bath, set out towels, then even help tie up your hair, if you want. You’ll probably feel better afterward.”

“You’re right about that. I wanted a bath, but it seemed like so much work...”

“It won’t be, not for me. Give me just a few minutes to set it up. And afterward, I’ll tell you about the new lady in town who almost made Nathan trip over his own feet.”

3 (#u08a0e847-b341-512b-9bf3-f222fb23b9b3)

VIOLET RESTED BACK in the steamy tub, her body so lax she knew she could nod off. But she wouldn’t. No, she wanted to talk to Hogan.

He’d insisted she get the bath taken care of first.