by Nicole Casey
“For the holidays then?” Vyolet asked quietly but I shook my head.
“No,” I replied. “We’re coming home for good.”
The look on my girls’ faces was something I would hold onto for the rest of my life and for the first time since Jocelyn died, I knew I was doing the right thing for everyone.
We were going back to Minnesott Beach to take the house off the market and be a family like we should have done from the start.
I had never been so certain of anything as I pulled my two loves into another warm hold, kissing them both on top of their heads.
Not two loves, I reminded myself, my heart full of affection. Three. I am going to be a father. My life is finally complete.
- THE END -
Protecting Maya
The Viera Triplets Series Book Two
Book Description
Someone’s after Maya, and I will do whatever it takes to keep her safe.
I don’t know how my life got so twisted. I should have it figured out by now, but all I have is a stressful job and a lonely apartment. Until I meet Maya Viera.
Her soft lips, beautiful red hair, and luscious curves call my name. Her sweet smile and beautiful green eyes distract me. There’s something about her that makes her irresistible. The only problem? Maya is not a one-man woman. She is much too free a spirit to be tied down to any man.
While I know nothing is going to happen between us, she’s slowly becoming my reason for living. So when Maya is threatened by a mysterious stalker, I volunteer to keep her safe and sound. I will protect her, and destroy whoever dares to threaten her. Even if it means protecting her from myself.
Prologue
MAYA
Three cakes sat before us, ablaze with candles as my parents began their off-key renditions of the time-honored song.
“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Vyolet, Maya and Yve! Happy birthday to you!”
I stifled a snort of amusement as my mom clapped her hands together and waited for us to blow out the flames on our respective cakes.
She went through the same painstaking trouble every year, making us each our own sweet as if we were still thirteen and fighting for our independence.
We would not have cared if we shared one big cake now, after all, there would be no mistaking one triplet for another, not anymore.
But tradition was tradition and mom was nothing if not a conservative traditionalist.
As usual, Vy was the first to jump in, huffing and puffing to take out the rows of candles as if her wish just couldn’t wait a second longer.
At least she maintained the childlike innocence which seemed to have melted off Yve and I like baby fat.
There were so many candles, I had no idea how mom had managed to do it without sinking the perfectly formed pancake.
I always assumed that Betty Crocker was a descendant down the line somewhere.
“Come on, girls!” my dad, Oscar urged. “The wax is dripping everywhere!”
I glanced at Yvette who instinctively gazed at me and we exchanged a private smile.
In unison, we bowed our heads and made a wish.
It seemed unfair that I was granted a wish.
After all, I had everything I could ever want, and I knew it.
The problem was, I had too much.
Far too much.
“What did you wish for?” Vyolet teased, knowing full well that we would never tell. But it was tradition.
Every year Vyolet would ask and every year Yve and I would give her the same response.
“Not telling or it won’t come true!” Yvette and I chorused simultaneously, and everyone laughed.
God, we’re like an episode of Full House, I thought, resisting the desire to roll my emerald eyes heavenward.
Of course, nothing is ever how it appears on the surface.
Behind the scenes, we all had our secrets.
As if reading the dark thought which had inadvertently crept in, my cell phone chimed on the table.
“No!” my mother, Amelia cried, shaking her head vehemently. “No cells today! You promised.”
My sisters nodded in agreement, but I didn’t have to look and see who was texting; I already knew who it was.
He hadn’t stopped since I had arrived two hours earlier.
“No cells,” I agreed, pushing the device aside. It was facedown for a reason.
“Your boyfriends can take a day off,” Amelia continued sourly, and I shot her a warning look.
I didn’t need a lecture on the way I lived my life, not that day.
“I just said I wasn’t answering it,” I replied evenly. “Are we going to cut these with a knife or should I just dig in with my hands?”
“We are not animals, Maya,” Yvette said sternly but I could hear she was mimicking my mom’s tone and I couldn’t resist laughing despite the knot which had formed in my stomach.
I could feel her watching me with her perceptive blue eyes, but I carefully avoided her stare, maintaining the smile on my face.
I didn’t want to ruin our birthday celebration. It was one of the few times we could ensure that everyone was together with Yvette’s demanding work schedule.
“I’ll get knives,” mom said, rising from her patio chair and I stepped away from the table.
“I’ll help you,” I volunteered, following her back into the house.
As I closed the sliding door behind me, mom opened her mouth immediately.
“Maya, I’m worried about you,” she said without preamble and I felt myself tense.
“Mom,” I groaned. “Come on. Can’t you give it a rest for one day?”
Her mouth became a fine line of annoyance.
“I am your mother and I have ever right –”
“To give your unsolicited advice?” I interjected, sighing. “Mom, it’s my birthday. You already ruined my wish by starting with me.”
It was a lie of course. I had wished for something quite different, but I couldn’t resist the opportunity to let mom know that her meddling was not welcome.
“Maya, you’re such a beautiful girl with so many talents. I don’t know why you live like a – a – a –”
“How are the knives coming in here?” my dad boomed, stepping inside the kitchen and eyeing us.
He had come to my rescue, knowing that mom had me cornered.
“Got ‘em!” I announced with too much enthusiasm, holding the utensils up in my hand.
I tried to escape but my mother was undeterred by my father’s arrival.
“Maya, you’re not a teenager anymore,” she continued as if dad wasn’t casting her a warning look. “You need to start thinking about your future. You won’t be a young woman forever.”
I felt my jaw lock in place.
She thinks I’m sowing my wild oats or something, I thought bitterly. She just doesn’t understand I refuse to conform to the expectations of society.
It was difficult to explain to my mom that it didn’t matter how old I got, I would always be the same woman I had always been.
Or so I had thought until recently.
But again, that was not something I felt open to discussing with my mother.
Especially when I didn’t know where things were going.
And I didn’t know what was lurking around the corner.
“Oscar, will you please try and talk some sense into your hippie daughter?”
I laughed at the assessment.
One day I was simply going to don a Gypsy skirt and come to dinner topless, unlit joint in hand, sputtering Beatles lyrics.
But my mom was not even slightly amused as she glared at my father for help.
“Amelia, Maya is a grown woman –” he started to say, and my mom scoffed.
“Then isn’t it about time she started acting like one?”
A spark of anger coursed through me, but I willed myself to breathe deeply as per my yoga training.
The anger is hers, not yours. You cannot be touched by her negativity
. You are a strong, confident woman who does not succumb to the dark emotions of other people. You’re –
“You’re not even listening!” mom cried, throwing her hands up in frustration. “Are you high?”
Again, my mind fluttered to the mental picture of me in hippie gear and a smirk crossed over my mouth.
Our eyes met, an identical shade of jade and not for the first time I wondered how we could look so much alike and have nothing in common.
“I heard you, mom,” I replied evenly. “I hear you every single time you bring this up. Every single time I see you. You can’t even give it a rest on my birthday. The next time you complain that I don’t come for Sunday dinner, maybe you should ask yourself why.”
I spun to join my sisters outside, desperately trying to keep any ire from filling my body, but it was slowly seeping inside despite my best efforts.
I was going to need to do a spiritual cleansing when I got home.
Home. That is something else I need to think about. Great, thanks a lot mom. I had almost forgotten about all the ugliness before I got here.
My mind wandered darker still as my dad’s voice met my ears.
“Maya…” dad called, and I could hear the dejectedness in his voice.
“Maya!” my mother’s tone was sharp and even though I tried not to, I turned to eye her.
“Yes?”
“I gave birth to you. I will never stop worrying about you. I have more life experience than you and I am telling you right now – if you continue this path, something bad is going to happen. Mark my words.”
I froze, my body turning to stone as our gazes locked.
Mother’s intuition or foreshadowing? I couldn’t help but wonder.
Slowly, I broke the stare and shuffled out of the house.
I didn’t want to be the one to admit to her that she was right, that something bad already had happened.
As if on cue, my cell began to ring again.
1
Slade
The first thing I saw when my eyes opened were the endless grey-black clouds rolling in from the Neuse River.
It was going to pour, I could feel it in my bones and in the onset of a migraine which was throbbing behind my eyes.
I turned my head and started, forgetting that Rocco had set up shop on the neighboring pillow, his huge jowls fluttering as he continued to sleep.
Ah!
I sat up and peered at the alarm clock, shaking my head as I tried to get my bearings.
It was after seven o’clock and I had slept in.
I hadn’t heard the alarm which meant I had forgotten to set it again.
It had been happening a lot lately.
Over the past few weeks, little things were going missing, misplaced and showing up in strange places.
I had found my wallet in the fridge and cell phone in the microwave.
My keys had been locked in my BMW three times in the last month, my house keys attached.
Still, I hadn’t learned to put my spare somewhere accessible.
I need a vacation, I told myself, slipping from the California king bed and padding across the hardwood floors to the ensuite bathroom.
My headache was getting worse and I needed to take something before it rendered me useless.
Like a mocking omen, thunder rumbled in the distance.
Under normal circumstances, I liked the rain but that day it only meant more problems.
It would take longer to get to work, my clothes would get soaked and I had a meeting with the Paris clients in the afternoon.
I tried to remember a time when I had been excited to start my day instead of trying to remember where I had put my towels.
No, seriously, where were all my towels?
The shower was running, and I was naked, pouring through the cupboards but they weren’t where they were supposed to be.
How is that possible? I asked myself furiously. Someone must be screwing with me.
Of course, I knew that unless Rocco had decided to reorganize the house while I was at work, I had somehow managed to sabotage myself again.
I finally found them in the bedroom closet, but I had no recollection of ever having put them there.
After this deal goes through, I am going on vacation. Three weeks. And definitely not to Paris, I vowed as I climbed into the steaming shower.
After the hell the Parisians were putting me through, I was done with all of France.
Well maybe not Nice…or the alps…
I scrubbed at myself quickly, knowing that I didn’t have time to indulge in much more than a rinse.
Traffic is going to be atrocious, I reminded myself, turning off the faucet and leaping out onto the bathmat.
Dripping, I haphazardly ran my fingers through an unruly mass of blonde curls and dried myself simultaneously.
It was at that moment that Rocco began to howl, barking in rapid succession.
I tensed, recognizing his growls as more than simple dog play.
Every sharp bark he made pierced into my unmedicated skull deeper, encouraging more pain from my brain.
“Okay, Rocco,” I said calmly, wrapping the towel around my slender hips and making my way into the bedroom but he wasn’t there.
Outside, the rain had begun, the drops hammering against the window panes relentlessly.
“Rocco?” I called as his anxiety mounted.
When I entered the hallway, I peered down the staircase, where the mastiff was pawing at the front door, breathing heavily.
He looked up at me in desperation and then I knew what was causing his stress.
The doorbell rang again.
Who the hell -?
I groaned loudly and ran down the steps, cursing myself.
The dog walker.
I had forgotten to cancel the dog walker.
There was no way that Rocco would step foot outside in that weather.
For a hundred and fifty-pound beast, he was terrified of loud noises.
I threw open the front door, an apology and an excuse ready to spring from my lips but they both died there as I stared at the drenched pixie on my porch.
Her auburn hair was matted against her tiny shoulders and her inquisitive willow eyes peered up at me.
I wouldn’t have guessed her to be more than five foot three but she carried herself taller somehow, despite her tiny stature.
“Hi,” she said, and I realized I had been staring at her silently for a while. “I’m Maya, the dog walker?”
Rocco howled in protest from behind me, but I watched as she dropped down to allow him to sniff her hand.
To my shock, my cowardly werewolf ventured into the rain to feel her out.
“Oh my God,” I mumbled, realizing that she was still being rained upon while I stood in a towel, gaping. “Come inside.”
I stepped aside to let her through and Rocco’s entire disposition changed, his tail wagging happily as she entered.
“I should have called to cancel you,” I told her, my face flushing as I tried to keep the towel from slipping off my hips. “I slept in because I forgot to set the alarm and then when I woke up, I couldn’t find the towels and then Rocco started barking…”
I was babbling, and I abruptly stopped talking, shaking my head as if hoping for some sense to enter.
Maya pet Rocco, nuzzling her nose to his ecstatic face but I could see her watching me through her peripheral vision.
“Let me get some clothes on,” I muttered, turning to the stairs. “And I’ll pay you for today, but Rocco won’t go out in the rain. I’ll be lucky to get him in the backyard.”
It was another stress to worry about; my poor dog holding his bladder all day while I was at work.
I hurried toward the staircase, my pulse quickening with each step.
She must be new to the company, I thought, licking my lips as I hastily dressed in my suit.
I didn’t even bother to brush my hair, not because I was late but because I wanted to get back downstairs
to the redhead in my foyer.
But you do need to hurry and get to work, I reminded myself.
Yet somehow, it didn’t seem as urgent suddenly, as if Maya’s arrival had some strange calming effect on me.
I rushed back to join her, but she wasn’t where I left her.
Glancing around, she was not in any of the front rooms and I looked outside but neither her nor my dog was anywhere in sight.
A stranger in my home should have put me on edge and taking stock of the valuables laying in plain sight but it did not and eventually I found her at the back door, trying to coax Rocco into the yard.
I stood back, watching her work her magic as the beast slowly took a tentative step outside.
“Come on, big boy,” she cajoled. “You just need to do your business and then you can come right back inside for treats.”
Rocco’s head jerked up at the word and she nodded encouragingly at him.
“Yes, treats,” she said softly. “Do you like treats?”
Rocco barked once in affirmation and to my surprise bounded suddenly into the rain.
I was dumbfounded.
The word “treats” had never had such a profound effect on him before. I had tried dragging him into the rain, coaxing, begging, threatening.
I guess there are some things which only a beautiful woman can do.
“You certainly have a way with animals,” I commented, and she turned, seeming unperturbed by my arrival.
It was like she knew I was watching her.
“I can never get him outside,” I continued, looking around the kitchen for my wallet. “It’s not good for him to hold it,” Maya replied, one eye on the canine as he sought the perfect corner to relieve himself. “Dogs and people are very much alike in that manner.”
I cocked my head to the side, vaguely aware of the headache now.
“How’s that?” I asked, pulling two twenties from my wallet and sliding them across the glass tabletop for her to take.
“We should never internalize our discomfort. It manifests in terrible ways.”
My mouth parted, and I tried to weigh what she was telling me, but I really didn’t care about her philosophical take on mind, body and soul at that moment.
