Evil Secrets Trilogy Boxed Set

by Vickie McKeehan

  As Baylee sat in the kitchen chair thumbing through the latest fashion magazine, she knew she must be crazy. What woman in her right mind would want a man like Dylan to see her looking like this? She was definitely not at her best and hadn’t been, it seemed, since he’d stopped by the Book & Bean that day. In fact, now that she thought about it, Dylan had seen her at her absolute worst. Repeatedly. Oh well, she sighed, as she put down the magazine; he seemed to be okay with all of it. And wasn’t it better this way that he see her true self rather than for her to try and pretty up a false impression that he’d find out about eventually?

  The timer dinged.

  “Let’s see what we’ve got,” Dylan said as he stood up to check the color. “I think you’re done.”

  “How does the color look?”

  Dylan started removing the tin foil sheets one at a time. “Honey blonde, just like those pictures in your father’s study, the ones on the mantel, the ones that show you with Shirley Temple curls and no front teeth.”

  “I was six and had the misfortune to lose my two front teeth at the same time. The Shirley Temple curls were Tanya’s doing. She wasn’t happy unless she could enhance my curls with a hot curling utensil. But you know what, I always hated sitting there getting my picture taken. I could never work in front of the cameras. Wouldn’t be an actress if you paid me. I’d be too bored with all of it. I used to go to the studio with Dad. In the early days, he’d pick me up and sit me on his lap while he directed another blockbuster.” She sighed, remembering some of the better days with her father. “Those were the good times.”

  “You’re right. You have too much energy. I can’t see you sitting still for that long.” As he finished removing all the foil, they talked and laughed like they’d known each other forever. Comfortable with each other. They chatted on about hair styles, fashion, football, and babies.

  Later that afternoon they put Sarah in her stroller and walked down the street to an old-fashioned hamburger stand on the beach. With Dylan at the helm, pushing the stroller along the sidewalk, Sarah was a perfect angel, never once resembling the infant who’d had the crying jag in the restaurant.

  At the burger stand, it was obvious Dylan was a regular. The young brunette behind the counter flirted with him all the while she took their order. The same was true with the plump, middle-aged, red-headed waitress who brought the food outside to their table. Obviously a popular guy, Dylan Burke’s charm knew no age limit.

  Over burgers and fries, while Sarah sat in her stroller, they enjoyed their meal in relative peace until two women, who were introduced to Baylee as Tara and Kendra, stopped by their table to say hello.

  Even though the encounter went smoothly and Dylan handled it with grace, it became apparent that his friends and neighbors couldn’t quite wrap their arms around the idea that the single man about town had an infant daughter. The concept threw Tara and Kendra into cross-examination mode. During the exchange the two women did everything they could to glean the ultimate amount of information from the man they’d both gone out with numerous times.

  “So you’re a daddy? You never said a word. What’s her name?”

  “Sarah,” Dylan offered proudly. It did not escape Dylan’s attention that Tara and Kendra totally ignored the baby’s mother, as he watched her sit stoically by, taking in the whole ridiculous scene. Nor did he fail to notice how the women grew distant right before his eyes at the very idea he had a child. He didn’t think good old Tara or Kendra would be eager to call him any time soon, nor would they be leaving him any messages offering to hook up in the foreseeable future.

  “She does look just like you, Dyl. Don’t you think so, Kendra?”

  “I do. Same blue eyes, same blonde hair. How old is she?”

  “Almost six months.”

  “And this is the first time we’ve seen her.”

  “Oh, she’s been around. I just haven’t felt like sharing her with anyone else. Baylee and I have been keeping a low profile.” He leveled both women with a dazzling smile. He was almost starting to believe the story himself. Maybe he should try his hand at acting, start with a few of the local stage productions before moving on to more serious auditions, make the rounds in Hollywood.

  When Tara and Kendra finally moved on, Baylee burst out laughing. “You are some piece of work, Surfer Boy. You almost had me believing your spiel. Have you ever thought of taking this act on the road? You’d be a natural.”

  “Funny how great minds think alike. I was just sitting here envisioning fame and fortune beyond my wildest dreams when I’m discovered as the next Matthew McConaughey.”

  “In your dreams, pal.”

  “Hey, a guy can have delusions of grandeur if he wants. I bet he scores with a lot of babes on all seven continents.” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down.

  Baylee playfully punched him in the arm.

  “Ow, that hurt.”

  “I hardly think you have room to complain. No matter where we are, no matter where we go, you seem to have an overabundant supply of available women.”

  He’d walked right into that one. He quickly steered the stroller toward a frozen yogurt shop. “How about dessert?”

  Dylan ordered green-tea flavored yogurt with pineapple and coconut while Baylee opted for an original mixture filled with blueberries and strawberries. As they sat outside eating their own favorite concoctions, Dylan suddenly realized he didn’t know much about Baylee’s pregnancy and decided to change that. Curious by nature, the more he sat there, the more he wanted to know about anything and everything that had happened to her over the last fourteen months.

  “Did you have a lot of cravings when you were pregnant?”

  “Mexican food. I couldn’t get enough cheese enchiladas or chicken fajitas or tamales.”

  “What, no Chinese? My sister craved sweet and sour pork until it was sickening to watch her eat the stuff. How long were you in labor?”

  “Eight hours.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

  “Really?” Amused, Baylee retorted, “Then you try squeezing out six pounds.”

  He winced. “Point taken. Is that how much Sarah weighed?”

  “Just under six. Five pounds, fourteen ounces to be exact. And don’t you dare say that’s small. She was big enough.”

  “How much weight did you gain?”

  She gave him an incredulous look. “Is there a question you won’t ask?”

  His mouth curved. He knew how to get out of a jam. “All I’m saying is you don’t look like you had a baby six months ago.”

  “Good recovery. You think on your feet.”

  “My sister is still trying to lose the baby weight. She gained almost forty pounds.”

  “Wow! That is a lot. I gained about twenty. And for some reason the weight just poured off.”

  He laughed. “That’s probably because you can’t sit still for five minutes.”

  “Maybe.”

  “When will Gidget here be ready to eat solid food?”

  “She has her six-month checkup Tuesday, the day after Memorial Day. I’m hoping he’ll tell me it’s time to introduce some cereal into her diet.”

  “Tuesday? Why didn’t you say something?”

  “Forgive me, daddy, but it never occurred to me that a single guy would be interested in making a trip to the pediatrician with us. I’m still getting used to this whole daddy act of ours anyway.”

  He had a serious look on his face when he said, “Yeah, well, next time give me a heads up. What time?”

  “Ten o’clock.” Baylee was starting to think the man was taking this daddy act a little too far. She could easily chalk it up to the man’s amiable disposition, but it could also be the start of an uneasy obsession. How much did she really know about the guy anyway? “Dylan, I think I can get Sarah to and from the doctor by myself. I’ve handled it just fine for months now.”

  “No way. We’re a team now.”

  But for how long, she wondered, as she tried to decide ho
w much of Dylan’s act was fake and how much was genuine.

  “She was born the sixteenth of December, right? What time?”

  His curiosity knew no bounds. “Three-twenty a.m.” She cocked a brow.

  “Who was with you?”

  “My friend, Blair. Look, Dylan, is this interrogation going any place in particular? Am I allowed to have my attorney present?”

  “Very funny. Look, there’s a lot I don’t know, okay? I’m just trying to be thorough. And you opted for breast feeding because it was healthier for the baby over the bottle. Good choice. That’s the way my sister went too. Even as we speak, she’s trying to wean the little guy, but he’s stubborn and not too happy with the sippy cup.” He suddenly wished he’d been there when Sarah popped into the world.

  Baylee couldn’t help it; she laughed. What other single guy would possible know anything about a sippy cup? Okay, so it was his good nature front and center making him so curious, not some bizarre or weird fixation. She relaxed and decided to get more into the spirit of the questions. Two could play this game.

  Playfully, maybe a bit more suggestively than she should have, she said with a straight face, “Because Sarah was so small, she had trouble at first getting the hang of the whole nipple thing.” When she saw the tight look form on his face, she went on, “It took her a couple of days to get the hang of what she was supposed to do, but she finally figured it out. We both did.”

  She’d said on purpose to shut him up and put an end to the questions. But she should have known better. Dylan Burke didn’t have a shy bone in his body. He just kept right on talking about the benefits of breastfeeding over the bottle until finally he asked, “Isn’t it getting about that time?” His eyes automatically drifted to the front of the shirt she wore as if he were trying to see if the answer were written on her boobs.

  Now she was the one who was self-conscious. “Uh, yeah. We probably should go. And tonight’s bath night so we need to factor in some extra time.”

  “Really? Can I help?”

  Baylee didn’t know whether to be thrilled or wary at the offer. She forced herself to remember this was a temporary situation. When this whole thing with Connor was over, she would move on. And so would he. She couldn’t—no, she wouldn’t—get used to having him in both of their lives. She reminded herself he was simply acting the part of daddy; it was a role he was playing with relish. She had no illusions or fantasies that he’d actually be interested in stepping into that role for real.

  As soon as they got back home it didn’t take long before Sarah grew tired from having been out all evening and began to fuss. As far as the bath went, Dylan took his cues from Baylee.

  While he held the unhappy Sarah, Baylee, who seemed to take Sarah’s fussiness in stride, ran water into a yellow plastic thing that looked to him like a bucket. On Baylee’s command he reluctantly sat the squalling infant into the water and wondered how on earth Baylee intended to bathe a very unwilling participant. But to his surprise, Sarah’s demeanor changed as soon as Baylee began to turn the bath into more game than chore, complete with splashing noises and bubbles that not only entertained Sarah but got the job done as well.

  He couldn’t help it. He was bowled over by Baylee’s technique―and not for the first time. Everything about her spoke to the woman’s love for her child. She seemed to have a handle on what Sarah needed, when she needed it, and what the baby would or would not tolerate. Considering that the kid couldn’t talk, Dylan thought Baylee seemed to know exactly what to do in any given circumstance.

  The longer Sarah stayed in the water the more she kicked and oohed over the bath toys. Caught up in the game, he picked up a Dora Explorer bubble maker and began to shoot bubbles into the air. That got Sarah’s attention. She slapped for the bubbles, and with every reach of her little hands, water sloshed over the sides of the tub. Dylan didn’t mind. He was having too much fun watching her enjoy the water. Imagine, a little pint-sized fish like this having as much fun as he had had just that morning in the surf.

  When Baylee announced bath time over and done, he watched with rapt attention, trying to pick up as many pointers as he could as she dried, diapered, and dressed a wiggling Sarah with such a knack. She never broke stride.

  As soon as Baylee had the last snap in place on Sarah’s pink pajamas, sensing freedom from her restraints, Sarah promptly rolled over, grinned from ear to ear, pleased that she’d survived the ritual bath process. Her mood went from weary to recharged, as if she’d found her second wind.

  Dylan reached down and picked her up, settling her on his shoulder. He picked up the soft bear she slept with from her crib and started going after her belly, telling her, “Mr. Bear is going to get you.” He proceeded to make Mr. Bear dance until she giggled. When she began to squeal with delight at each playful gesture, he didn’t stop until he got a genuine belly laugh out of her.

  Baylee watched in fascination as Dylan charmed her daughter. She tried to harden her heart against his appeal. And then like a rock through a window, her mind crashed, wondering how she could help but not fall for this guy. Watching the two of them sit down on the floor and continue their playtime, it seemed that to her, Sarah was as captivated as she. What would happen to both of them when he tired of the daddy role, when he saw that being a father was more than fun and games?

  She decided to end the day on a high note, one that didn’t require thinking too far into the future. Connor was still out there, no doubt looking for her. She couldn’t be distracted from that, couldn’t forget that keeping Sarah’s existence a secret was first and foremost, the priority. The feelings Dylan brought out would have to be put on the backburner. There could be no doubt Sarah’s welfare came first.

  CHAPTER 12 Book 2

  In the dream, she was twelve.

  Baylee tiptoed to the door, checked the hallway. She wouldn’t let him see her, catch her. If he did, in his present state, she knew what to expect. She hated him when he was like this. Her hands shook just thinking about him finding her hiding place inside Tanya’s bedroom closet. And now, just to Baylee’s luck, Tanya was out running errands. Otherwise, the woman always acted as her go-between, her protector. But at times like this, Baylee couldn’t rely on anyone but herself. Any other time her father could be a decent human being, but when he drank, like today, forget it.

  William Scott was a mean, drunken bully.

  As she stood just behind the closet door, she strained to listen. Maybe he’d passed out by now and the coast was clear. If she could just make it to the backdoor, she could run down the street to Kit’s house. Even though Kit had it far worse than she did, Kit would hide her in the pool house for the next few hours until her father either passed out and sobered up or exhausted himself searching for her.

  She sucked in a breath and found the courage to open the door. She stuck her head out a few inches and listened again. Deciding the way was clear, she crossed the width of Tanya’s bedroom right off the kitchen and stopped at the door again to listen for any sign her father might have wandered into the kitchen. Sucking up her nerve, she opened the bedroom door and peered out. The room was quiet. It looked like she was home free. He had to be somewhere else in the house. She ran like a deer across the room, threw open the back door, and stepped straight into her father’s chest.

  “There you are, Sarah.”

  The open-handed slap snuck out like a snake to sting her cheek. “I’m not Sarah. It’s Baylee, Dad. I’m Baylee.”

  “You aren’t sneaking out of this house, Baylee Diane. You aren’t going down to that goddamned woman’s house. Not today; not ever again; no way. I’ve told you a hundred times to stay away from that bitching viper.” Backing her up in the kitchen, William yelled in her face, “You’ll stay away from her or I’ll know the reason why.”

  Baylee lied with conviction and not for the first time. “I…I…wasn’t. I was going over to Quinn’s house.”

  “Don’t lie to me.” He grabbed her arm and twisted it back. “I don�
�t want you around that woman, you understand? Kit might be okay, for now. But if she’s around that mother of hers for any length of time, she’ll turn out just like her. You need to…find new friends.”

  “Kit is not like…Alana. She isn’t.”

  “Yeah…well, she will be. Living with that evil woman will make her turn mean. You wait and see. No one can trust ’Lana Stevens. Believe me, I know.” He swayed as if it were a struggle to remain standing.

  Silently, she willed him to pass out. If he passed out, she had a reprieve. But when she looked into his rheumy eyes, saw his resolve strengthen, she said quietly, “Daddy, I’m not my mother. Remember where you are. I’m not her.”

  “Damn you,” he groused, as he staggered further into the kitchen, dragging her along with him. “Don’t bring your mother up to me. You always do that. I don’t want to talk about your mother.”

  She didn’t want to remind him that she hadn’t been the one to bring up the woman earlier. He did it every time he drank, talking nonsense. But she knew better than to dispute anything he said now in this condition. “I’m…sorry.” Would this be one of those times when she could avoid taking another punch? She held her breath as well as her tongue. She took a chance and reached out to touch his hand, trying to get him to realize where he was, who was standing right in front of him. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.

  It didn’t work. Within seconds, quick as lightening, his hand struck out again and slapped her across the face. Defensively her arms came up to block any more blows as he grabbed her arm. “Get out of my sight, you little…”

  He never got to finish. Tanya Lincoln stepped inside the kitchen, all five feet two inches of her, dressed in faded jeans and a loose white blouse. “William, let her go.”

  William dropped his hand in mid-strike at the sound of Tanya’s voice. “She’s in trouble. I caught her sneaking down to Kit’s again.”

  “Then ground her, William. Send her to her room, but do not hit that child again.” The diminutive woman sat down the bag of groceries she was carrying on the immaculate kitchen counter and stepped over to where William held onto the child’s arm. “Baylee, there are more bags in the car. Go help carry them in, please.”