Dominating Vyolet: A Dad's Best Friend Romance (The Viera Triplets Book 1) Page 3

  “Remember Uncle Evan? Evan Collier?”

  Maya’s green eyes brightened instantly.

  “Do I ever!” she chortled. “He was the most handsome man I had ever seen until I was seventeen.”

  I eyed her with mild disgust.

  “Maya, he’s dad’s age!” I reminded her. “How can you say that?”

  She laughed in that teasing way of hers and shook her messy auburn waves playfully.

  “Older men are better at everything, Vy. Trust me.”

  I ignored her innuendo, trying not to blush scarlet. If she caught me with red cheeks, she wouldn’t let it go for the rest of the night.

  “Anyway,” I continued quickly. “His sister and her husband were killed in a car accident yesterday. He’s coming over.”

  Maya grunted softly.

  “I don’t mean to sound insensitive but if I had known that this place was going to be all doom and gloom today, I would have opted out. The energy is already bad. Throwing more grief into the mix won’t do anything for our auras.”

  I glared at her.

  “Maya, you sound like a jerk,” I scolded her. “God forbid someone close to you dies and your friends treat you the same way in your moments of grief.”

  She looked at me, genuine surprise in her eyes.

  “Many friends of mine have passed,” she replied sincerely. “Death is a part of life, a rite of passage. You cannot grieve the loss of people. You must celebrate their lives.”

  I knew pursuing a debate would be useless but I was saved from doing so because the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it!” I called automatically.

  I don’t know why I volunteered. Surely my dad wanted to see his long-time friend and would have some wisdom to bestow upon him as he opened the door.

  It was just that Maya was merely making me uncomfortable with her new age thinking and I wanted to be away from her Zen and meditation talk while I had the opportunity.

  I barreled through the dining room, around the opposite side of the foyer to open the front door.

  The first thing I noticed was his eyes.

  They were the color of granite and rimmed in red but I was certain I had never seen such an alluring shade of grey in my life.

  Shadowed by almost impossibly long, black lashes, I found myself fixated on those irises as if he had cast a spell on me with his stare.

  Evan was much taller than I remembered him being, nearly the same height as my dad, something I found interesting as I was forced to look up at him. It was something I didn’t often do with other people.

  I also did not recall his rugged attractiveness.

  A five o’clock scruff pricked his face and his mouth seemed drawn into a melancholic pout which, given the circumstance, was sexy and not petulant.

  My breath caught in my chest for a long minute as our gazes locked, neither of us speaking.

  “Can we come inside?” a small voice piped up and my eyes fell downward where a small brunette stood staring up at me with intense brown irises.

  “Yes!” I gasped, humiliated that I had left them standing there for so long. “Please, come in.”

  I stepped aside to allow them into the foyer, smiling softly at the girl.

  “You must be Alex,” I said, lowering myself to her level. She nodded and eyed me suspiciously.

  “Yes,” she replied quickly. “I don’t know you and I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

  “I am Vyolet,” I told her. “Your uncle and my dad are very good friends so we’re almost family. See? Now we aren’t strangers anymore.”

  I offered her an outstretched palm and she took it tentatively.

  “I think that I may have some dolls and books in my old room for you to play with, Alex,” I continued. “I will take you there in a minute if you want.”

  She nodded eagerly and glanced at her uncle for confirmation.

  My gaze moved upward toward Evan and he seemed unable to stop looking at me.

  “You are Vyolet?” he breathed, and I almost had to strain to hear him.

  I slowly rose to my full height and nodded.

  “It has been a long time, Uncle Evan,” I replied quietly, choking on the word “uncle.” I could not associate the barrel-chested man standing before me as any relation to me, no matter what I had just said to Alex. The rising temperature of my body did not feel remotely like platonic affection.

  I cleared my throat and looked away, certain that my thoughts were plain as the nose on my face.

  “I am sorry for your loss,” I mumbled, glancing at him through a wall of fine blonde hair covering my cheek.

  “Evan! Alex!” dad boomed, rounding the corner with mom at his side.

  Guiltily, I stepped back and watched as my parents embraced their friend.

  All right, I told myself, inhaling sharply. That is enough of that.

  I spun to escape the front room before embarrassing myself further but before I could take a step, Maya stood in the doorway of the salon, blocking my path.

  Her arms were folded beneath her pert breasts and she grinned, winking at me coyly.

  “He doesn’t seem that old now, does he?” she mocked me, causing my face to stain crimson.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I hissed, furtively looking to ensure that no one else heard her.

  Maya chortled and grabbed my hand, skipping me playfully back to the dining room.

  “Oh, I think you know exactly what I’m talking about,” she giggled. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that particular shade of red on you before.”

  “Shame on you,” I muttered angrily, pulling out the silverware from the china hutch. “Your mind is always on sex. The man is in mourning and you’re checking him out!”

  But as I continued to lay out the forks and knives, I wondered if I was chiding my sister or myself.

  3

  Evan

  I had been back in Minnesott Beach for a week when I realized that I couldn’t stay in my sister’s house any longer.

  It was a bittersweet understanding but one that I knew was necessary to act upon for both Alex and myself.

  If looking around Charlie and Jocelyn’s house made my heart hurt, I could only imagine what it did to my niece who was beginning to understand that her parents were not coming back.

  Every corner of the property was filled with pictures, of memories of a happy, life-filled family, one that would never be again.

  I was sure that the little girl walked into every room, expecting to see her mother or father standing there with open arms and the thought almost brought me to my knees with sadness for her.

  Nothing that innocent should know so much pain.

  On the Monday following the funeral, I left Alex with Amelia Viera.

  I was so grateful that they were still in Minnesott Beach, probably among the few people who had remained that I knew.

  So much had changed since our childhood and yet the town had not grown from a sleepy waterside haven.

  Only the Vieras remained.

  And their beautiful daughters.

  I had been taken aback seeing Vyolet and Maya at Oscar’s house the previous Sunday.

  In my mind’s eye, the triplets were still twelve-year-old, running amok with pigtails and braces.

  It took me a long time to accept that the stunningly beautiful Vyolet who answered the door was the same girl who had sold me Girl Guide cookies two decades earlier.

  What’s more is that I could sense the electric current surging between us, despite the impossible timing.

  Whatever you think you felt for Vyolet was not real, I told myself as I drove my rental car up toward the bungalow. You are a barrage of bizarre emotions right now.

  But the logic did not seem to alleviate the connection I felt toward her.

  “I’ll be back in a couple hours,” I promised Amelia when I dropped off my niece. “It’s just estate stuff and I don’t think Alex needs to be a part of it.”

  “Of c
ourse not,” Oscar’s wife agreed. “You take as long as you need. Alex and I will have lots of fun, won’t we, dear?”

  Alex cast me a panicked look.

  It would be the first time we would be apart since I had arrived in North Carolina.

  “It’s okay, Alex,” I told her softly, pulling her toward me for a hug. “I am going to be back soon.”

  “No!” she cried. “Please don’t leave me, Uncle Evan.”

  Amelia gave me a sympathetic smile and I touched Alex’s small cheek gently.

  “Aunt Amelia wants to play with you,” I tried. “Maybe you can show her how to play some new games.”

  “Oh, I would love to learn some new games!” Amelia cried with false bravado.

  I gave her a grateful look and forced a grin on my face.

  “See?” I told the girl. “You can’t disappoint Aunt Amelia now, can you?”

  She seemed unconvinced and the naked pain in her russet colored eyes nearly split my heart in two.

  She’s worried that I’m going to leave her like her parents did, I thought, swallowing the lump of emotion in my throat.

  “Okay,” Alex whispered but I could see tears forming in her haunted dark eyes. “But please come back.”

  I gave her a quick peck on the cheek and thanked Amelia again before hurrying out the door.

  I was worried that if Alex cried, I might do the same.

  As I headed out of Minnesott Beach toward Oriental, I considered what was about to happen with the estate.

  I did not want to stay in the modest two-storey house that Charlie had built for his family but the thought of selling it sent a knife to my heart also.

  Then there was the question of whether I should return to Seattle where my own condo sat waiting.

  A condo in the city is no place to raise a child, I thought tersely.

  What did I know about raising a child?

  Having children had always been for other people, not me.

  While my co-workers were getting married and planning baby showers, I was busy climbing the corporate ladder and securing my future.

  I had dabbled in relationships of course but nothing had ever inspired me to think about settling down or God forbid, procreating.

  Suddenly, the task seemed daunting and terrifying, a hundred thousand awful thoughts coursing through my mind as I made the short drive to the next town.

  I did not realize it but my foot was weighing heavy on the gas and I made it into Oriental in ten minutes instead of twenty.

  My GPS led me into the heart of town and I realized how much the town had changed since I had last been.

  It maintained its quaintness with red brick buildings, mom and pop businesses. Mothers played in the sprinkling of parks with their children, all whom were home for summer break.

  It had the aroma of low crime, no dingy alleyways, no sketchy people on the sidewalk, dealing drugs or pedaling their own bodies.

  Now this would be the place to raise a child, I thought, suddenly much calmer.

  An idea was taking shape in my mind.

  The law office of Schiller and Schultz was in a small commercial plaza and when I parked my car, I saw that there was a Starbucks across the street.

  Oriental has more going for it than Minnesott Beach, I mused as I parked the car and headed toward the coffee shop. I could stay here.

  I wondered if I was losing my mind considering such an option.

  Your home is in Seattle. You can’t just throw away your entire life there to move back to Hicksville, North Carolina.

  My mind was far too unfocussed for me to commit to anything right then.

  The appointment was at nine o’clock and my watch told me I had fifteen minutes.

  As I entered, ordering my latte, I stood by the counter to stare out across the parking lot.

  My eyes immediately rested on a white car which had just pulled in and I felt a spark of excitement flash through me as I recognized the vehicle.

  The driver’s side door opened and a long, graceful leg appeared followed by another before a tall, stunning blonde fully exited, tossing her hair over the shoulder of her white romper.

  With her purse slung over her shoulder, she sauntered toward the door, sunglasses blocking the cobalt blue eyes I knew were carefully hidden beneath.

  Vyolet pulled the glasses atop her head, digging into her purse for her wallet.

  “Evan?”

  The barista handed me my coffee and I nodded in thanks, taking it and joining my friend’s daughter in the line.

  “May I buy you a coffee?” I asked.

  She turned her head at the unexpected question, the word “no” ready to spring from her lips but her mouth froze in an “O” as she recognized me.

  “Evan!” Vyolet gasped. “What are you doing here?”

  I smiled, holding up my latte.

  “Getting a coffee. They are reading my sister and Charlie’s will today,” I replied. “My appointment is at nine so I have a few minutes to kill.”

  Instantly, her face softened.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she murmured, her eyes wide with compassion. “If there is anything I can do…”

  “That’s very kind,” I told her. “I would love to buy you a coffee if you have a minute to chat.”

  “Oh, you don’t need to –”

  “I insist,” I interrupted. “It’s the least I can do for such lovely company.”

  To my mild amusement, Vyolet’s cheeks turned pink.

  She’s blushing!

  I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen a woman blush.

  Seattle women were cynical, unimpressed.

  Vyolet Viera was a refreshing blast of summer air to their frigid winter cold.

  And she really was a woman in every sense of the word.

  As she ordered her coffee, I found myself admiring her svelte but curvy frame. There was not an ounce of fat on her body but her hips and breasts filled the tiny outfit perfectly.

  Vyolet seemed to have a hypnotic effect on me. It seemed that in her presence, I temporarily forgot about my woes and pain.

  Instead, I was enthralled by her beauty and radiating sweetness.

  She made me want to do very bad things to her.

  “Evan?” she called and I realized I had fallen into a twisted reverie far away from the bright coffeehouse in which we stood.

  I almost blushed as I moved to sit with her.

  “Where is Alex?” she asked.

  “Your mother was kind enough to take her for me,” I explained.

  “If you should ever need someone to watch her while you are working over the summer, I am happy to do it,” she told me and I eyed her appreciatively.

  “Are you still in school?” I asked.

  She chuckled.

  “In a manner of speaking,” she replied. “I teach Grade School at Pineland Elementary on High Street.”

  I blinked.

  “You’re a school teacher? Like your mother?”

  Vyolet stared down at the counter and nodded, apparently embarrassed.

  “Yes,” she murmured. “I have always admired my mother. I knew I wanted to teach from the time I was very young.”

  I was taken aback by the guilelessness of her words.

  How many women in the mid-twenties want to be like their mothers?

  Staring at her, I suddenly felt I was talking to someone from a completely different century.

  “I imagine that you will be heading back to Washington after the will is read,” Vyolet asked and I thought I caught a hint of wistfulness in her voice but perhaps that was only wishful thinking on my part.

  “I haven’t decided what my next course of action is,” I confessed. “Truthfully, none of my options seem overly appealing. I am trying to focus on what’s best for Alex but I’m going in blind here. What the hell do I know about raising kids?”

  I paused, chewing on the insides of my cheeks.

  I didn’t know why I had said so much to her. It sounded des
perate, whiny and angry but it felt good to speak my insecurities aloud.

  “I don’t think anyone is ever prepared to raise children,” Vyolet volunteered gently. “The best laid plans of mice and men, right? I have yet to meet anyone who claims that they were perfectly equipped to deal with the challenges of child rearing.”

  My mouth relaxed slightly into a small smile.

  “I guess that is saying a lot given your background with children and parents,” I sighed and Vyolet chuckled, shrugging.

  We sipped our coffees silently for a minute.

  “What would you do if you were me?” I asked. It was a genuine question. I wanted some feedback from an unbiased party and I had so few of them in North Carolina.

  Vyolet sat back and studied my face carefully.

  “I could not imagine what it’s like to be you,” she answered honestly. “All I can offer you is the knowledge that Oriental’s school system is very well rated and Oriental is a wonderful, safe place to live if you want to leave Minnesott Beach but stay close by.”

  The plaintiveness in her words sent a shiver through me.

  There was no mistaking her subtle “friendly” advice.

  She wanted me to stay nearby.

  Our eyes locked and Vyolet licked her lower lip, the plump pinkness yearning to be bitten.

  I wrenched my eyes away, feeling a familiar sensation in my groin.

  This is Vyolet Viera! This is Oscar’s daughter. Get your head out of there before you cause a scandal in this town and violate an innocent girl.

  But I could not let go of the fact she was so obviously a woman.

  “Oh! I think you’re late for your appointment,” she cried suddenly, glancing at her cell phone.

  As I looked at my wristwatch, I saw that she was right.

  It was five after nine.

  I had completely lost track of time in her company.

  “Damn!” I jumped to my feet and grinned apologetically at her. “Thanks for taking note. I think you are far more distracting than I expected.”

  Again, her cheeks stained red and she tried to hide her expression behind her blonde hair but it was futile.

  “I will walk out with you,” Vyolet offered and together we hurried toward the parking lot.

  “Who else will be here?” she asked, digging into her purse for her keys.