Read Deceived (Private Justice Book #3): A Novel for Free Online Page A

some of those chocolate chip pecan cookies you and Todd like. I could stop by and drop them off later.”
    “Boy, I’d love that.” He put as much warmth into that statement as he could—because she wasn’t going to like the rest of what he had to say. “But the heat zapped me today. By the time we finish dinner and I spend some time with Todd, I’ll be ready to crash. Acclimating to the high temperatures and humidity that kicked in over Fourth of July has been a lot tougher than I expected.”
    “I imagine St. Louis is quite a shock after living in Montana.” Her voice cooled a few degrees. “I won’t keep you, then. Why don’t you call me when you’re up for a visitor?”
    “Yeah, I will.” The microwave sent out another piercing reminder that dinner was ready, and he jabbed the cancel button. “Listen, Diane, in case you’re worried, I’m not seeing anyone else. But Todd . . . he’s been having some bad dreams, and between that and this upset stomach thing I have going on, I haven’t been getting a lot of sleep. The move was a big change for both of us, and we’re still adjusting. I know life will get back to normal soon, if you can just hang in there a few more days. I promise I’ll make it up to you. We’ll try out that fancy new restaurant you were telling me about last week.”
    A few moments of silence ticked by before a soft sigh came over the line. “I’d like that. Sorry if I sounded put out or distrustful, but a philandering husband can do that to a girl.”
    The thread of tension in his shoulders eased. “I totally get that—and you don’t have to worry about me on that score. I never once even thought about cheating on my wife. I’m a one-woman-at-a-time man. I’ll call you tomorrow—and maybe by next weekend things will calm down around here so we can make up for the pizza we missed last Saturday.”
    “That would be great.” The usual friendliness was back in her voice. “In the meantime, try to stay cool.”
    “Good advice.” In more ways than one. “Talk to you later.”
    After dropping the phone back in the charger, he moved to the door and pulled it open. “Todd! Dinner’s ready.”
    His son acknowledged the summons with a wave, then descended from the tree house by swinging down from a branch monkey-style rather than using the sturdy ladder. Greg started to call out a warning. Caught himself. Instead, he gripped the edge of the door, holding his breath until Todd was on the ground. One of these days he’d get past the urge to overreact whenever his son took risks typical for any kid his age. Todd was healthy and strong and resilient—the way an almost-seven-year-old should be. He didn’t need to be coddled.
    Todd called good-bye to his buddy and sprinted toward the house, legs pumping. He skidded to a stop on the stoop as Greg pushed the door wider, then squeezed under his arm.
    “What’s for dinner?”
    “Nothing until you clean up. Hands, face, and—” Greg eyed the smudges of dirt on his T-shirt—“let’s change this.” He tweaked the sleeve.
    “Aw, Dad.”
    “I’d hurry if I were you. Otherwise the fries will get cold.”
    Todd’s eyes lit up. “You made fries? For real?”
    “Yep. Pot roast too.” Not homemade, like the meals Jen used to prepare—but a step up from frozen pizza.
    “Whoa! Awesome! I’ll be right back!”
    To the background sound of water running and drawers slamming, Greg removed the plastic wrap from the pot roast, slid the oven fries onto a plate, and drained the water from the packaged corn on the cob.
    Seconds later, as he removed a baking sheet from the oven, Todd zoomed back in.
    “Wow! Rolls too!” His son slid into his chair. “This is almost as good as Thanksgiving. How come you cooked all this stuff?”
    As Greg took his seat, guilt crashed over him. Had it been that long since they’d had a nice meal during the week?
    Yeah, it had.
    And the steady diet of fast food and macaroni and cheese they’d been