Graveyard Shifts: A Pat Wyatt Novel by Laura Del Read Free Book Online

and salty scent of the fresh fruit, muffins, pancakes, sausage, and bacon. There was a lot more, but at that point I was only interested in digging in. “Wow,” I breathed.
    “If there is anything else I can get for you—” He began to bow again.
    “Yes,” I interrupted that ridiculous gesture. If only he lived in the twenty-first century. Oh, wait. He did. “Coffee, please,” I begged. “Lots and lots of coffee.”
    “Will do.” Even though I interrupted the bow, he finished it, and then he left, backing out of the room as if I was a princess. And in a minute he was gone.
    Gosh, Tina would die of she saw me. “Oh, no,” I covered my face with my hands. I’d totally forgotten about Tina. She must be worried sick. I have to call her. That is, if I could find a phone.
    I got up from the table searching for one but there wasn’t one in sight. “Charles?” I called. “Charles?” I said again. No answer.
    I pushed my chair out and went into the sitting room continuing my search in there. That’s when I slapped my forehead. My cell. But as I glanced around the room, I couldn’t find my purse.
    “Where the heck is it?” I asked myself, running my fingers through my hair. I was so frustrated.
    Hoping it wasn’t still in Samuel’s car, I searched the floor, keeping my head down. Then as I walked further into the sitting room, someone bumped into me.
    It felt like my skull hit a boulder. “Holy mother,” I hissed, my head now pounding under my fingers. “That hurt!”
    “Are you all right?” a concerned southern male voice asked.
    My eyes closed to the pain as I stood upright. “Fine,” I managed to breathe. “You just hit my skull.”
    His hands wrapped around my shoulders as he helped me sit in one of the white chairs. “Here,” he said letting go. “You’ll feel better in a minute.”
    “Thanks,” I said, and I opened my eyes to see an incredibly handsome man in front of me. I started at his feet at first and saw that he had on a pair of white Converse. Then as I scanned upward, I took him in. He had on a pair of torn jeans with paint on them and a gray t-shirt that looked like he’d had it forever (the holes gave that away). But what really caught my attention was his body.
    He looked around five-foot-ten, with a lean build and rugged good looks. The man had dirty blond hair that fell into his eyes, and his face was very pleasant to look at. Five o’clock shadow early in the morning, straight nose, and a square jaw. He had very nice lips too.
    “Who are you?” I slurred brilliantly.
    He jerked, obviously distracted by something. “Sorry,” he smiled slightly. “My name is Michael Wolf. I’m Sam’s attorney.”
    “Sam?” I asked, confused, and then remembered that was my husband’s name. “Oh.” I shook my head. “Samuel. Right. Well, it’s very nice to meet you.” And it was. This man was very attractive. “I’m Pat Wyatt, Samuel’s wife.” With that, I held out my hand for him to shake, but he just looked at me.
    “You’re his wife ?” His voice and brows shot up. I don’t think he was expecting that.
    “Yes,” I said slowly. “Is that a problem?” He must have been suspicious in order to ask a question like that. And the way he said it, it took all I had not to get up and hit him.
    “Uh…no,” he said, regaining himself with a couple of blinks and shaking his head. “I just didn’t realize…that is I didn’t think…were you lookin’ for somethin’?” he finally asked.
    I had to admit he was charming, with the stumbling over his words and the very southern “somethin’” at the end of his question. It was weird because he made me want to flirt, which I hadn’t done in ages, and it scared me.
    My face grew hot as a dirty thought popped into my head. “My purse,” I said. “I have to find my phone.”
    He pulled his out of his back pocket and said, “Here,” as he handed it to me. “You can use mine, Mrs. Satané.” The way he said my married