Lone Star Blues

Karlee was right behind the judge, and she was communicating without words, as well. Dylan recognized the silent apology she was giving him. “Corbin and I were waiting for the pizza I ordered,” Karlee said.

In other words, she’d opened the door without realizing it was the judge. That was okay. If Karlee hadn’t answered the door, it was very possible that one of the housekeepers would have. Plus, as riled looking as the judge was, he probably wouldn’t have just left without seeing Dylan.

Karlee had Corbin by the hand, and the boy was munching on an apple slice. Despite the frustration over this visit and Jordan’s demand, Dylan found himself smiling at Corbin.

And Walter Ray noticed, too.

“So, this is your son,” Walter Ray grumbled as he slid glances between Dylan and the boy. Jordan got in on that glance sliding, too.

Karlee must have decided that all the glancing might lead to some things being said that she didn’t want Corbin to overhear so she led the boy out of the sunroom and back toward the kitchen.

“Yes, he’s mine,” Dylan verified.

Dylan didn’t have to guess how the judge had found out about Corbin. Misty had likely told him. He hoped Misty hadn’t told him about stripping naked and sneaking into Dylan’s room. If so, this conversation might go in an R-rated direction.

Walter Ray stared at him a long time as if waiting for Dylan to launch into some kind of lengthy explanation. Maybe about Corbin. Maybe about what’d gone on at the party the night before. Maybe about Misty and her missing panties. Since Dylan knew a couple of those discussions could get him in hot water, he just stared back at the man and stalled to see where this would go.

The return stare didn’t help ease Walter Ray’s intensity, but he did shift the direction of it. He turned back to Jordan. “The boy is your son?” he asked her.

Even though it was a pretty straightforward question, Jordan hesitated. Maybe because she didn’t think it was any of the judge’s business. It wasn’t. But the long pause might also be because she hadn’t finished her conversation with Dylan and the judge was interrupting that.

“Corbin’s mother is Adele,” Dylan provided. “She gave me custody because of some personal issues she’s having.”

Of course, it wouldn’t take the judge long to figure out that personal issues was code for Adele getting arrested. It also didn’t take long for Jordan’s eyes to narrow again, no doubt because Dylan had spelled out that part about him having custody.

“So, Jordan and you aren’t back together,” Walter Ray concluded. His expression lightened up a little so he must have taken it as good news. Sort of. “FYI,” he added to Dylan, “it’s not a good idea for a man to bed his ex-wife’s kin.”

“Hmmp,” Jordan said, and it was a sound of agreement.

Dylan added his own grunt to agree to that. Maybe though, the judge had meant that advice for Jordan and Adele and not his own two daughters. Though Dylan had only bedded one of the Turley sisters, Melanie, if Walter Ray found out about Misty staying the night—naked, no less—then things might take an even-uglier turn than they already had.

“I got your text with your vow of celibacy,” Walter Ray threw out there. Dylan groaned, but the judge just kept on yapping. “It seemed like a good start, but I’m not thinking that so much right now.”

Neither was Dylan. There was nothing good about a drunken vow of celibacy.

Walter Ray turned to Jordan. “Maybe you should step out of the room so Dylan and me can talk. Man-to-man. I know you’ve been through a bunch of bad stuff, and I don’t want you to hear anything that’ll upset you.”

Jordan’s hmmp turned to a groan. She probably didn’t like that bad stuff/man-to-man remark, and she likely didn’t want to leave, either. After all, in her mind she thought they still had to discuss Corbin’s custody, but as far as Dylan was concerned, there was nothing to discuss. It was a done deal.

“Our conversation isn’t over,” she warned Dylan, but at least she headed out of the room.

Dylan heard the front door again, but he seriously doubted that Jordan had just left. No. This was probably the pizza delivery that Karlee and Corbin had been waiting for.

“Did you get the scotch Dylan sent you?” Lucian asked the judge as soon as Jordan was gone.

“Sure did. I’m guessing that’s your way of apologizing?” Walter Ray added, not to Lucian but to Dylan.

Since Dylan didn’t know the scotch had been sent, probably either by Karlee or Lucian, Dylan just nodded.

“Well, I wasn’t gonna accept your apology.” Walter Ray gave his huge belt buckle an adjustment. “But Melanie said you’ve been under a lot of stress. She’s the one who talked me into coming here and patching things up between us.”

That would be good, but no doubt came with strings.

“I’m guessing you’ll be calling Melanie soon to chat to her about the boy you had with Adele,” the judge went on. It wasn’t a question.

Dylan huffed. He didn’t mind smoothing things over for the sake of business, but he wasn’t a doormat. And he wasn’t going to stand here and kowtow to this man.

“I’m not marrying your daughter,” Dylan spelled out to Walter Ray.

Lucian shot him a glare that could have withered a cactus on the spot. It was similar to the glare he’d given Dylan the night before when he’d gotten into it with the judge at the party. Dylan remembered all of that now, but apparently, he hadn’t gotten into it deep enough since it still hadn’t sunk into Walter Ray’s head.

“I’m not going to be roped into marrying someone simply because she chose to go to bed with me,” Dylan explained. “Hell, if I did that, I’d be married to...too many women.”

Best not to even attempt a number on that.

Lucian stepped forward, obviously ready to intervene, but Dylan held up his hand to silence him so he could finish having this out with Walter Ray. “I made it clear to Melanie that being with her wasn’t a commitment. She knows that, and now I’m making sure you know it, too.”

Walter Ray’s glare topped Lucian’s, something that Dylan hadn’t thought possible. “You toyed with my girl’s feelings. She’s in love with you.”

Dylan had indeed done some toying, but he doubted she was in love with him. Melanie was more sensible than her dad and had likely mentioned the l-word when Walter Ray had discovered the bingo card. Still, he needed to have an air clearing and smoothing over with Melanie in case there was an outside chance that she had indeed been hurt.

But all of this was a “big can of whip-ass” revelation for Dylan.

He’d made that celibacy vow when he was drunk, but it was a stellar idea, and it could be the first step toward moving on to the next stage of his life. Too bad it’d come so soon after seeing Jordan. Or rather, remembering Jordan.

There was hardly a day that’d gone by over the past fourteen years that he hadn’t thought about her, but he’d always been able to push those old flames aside. It was hard to do that now with her just a few rooms away. Maybe though, he could regain his footing and rein in his bedtime memories once she was on her way. Then, he could get on with his new path to celibacy without any temptations from the past.

Walter Ray leaned in closer, and the man violated a whole bunch of Dylan’s personal space. “You don’t want me on your bad side.”

“No, I don’t,” Dylan assured him. “But I’m not marrying your daughter for the sake of keeping peace between us. I’m a father now, and I need to focus on my son.”

Even though it was logic that Dylan thought a father could understand, that argument didn’t seem to appease Walter Ray one little bit. The man looked at Lucian as if he expected him to scold Dylan. Thankfully, Lucian didn’t do that. Not with words anyway, but Dylan suspected they’d have it out later. Because this could indeed affect business. Even if it did, though, Dylan wouldn’t be Lucian’s doormat, either.

“You better hope you don’t need any favors from me,” Walter Ray warned Dylan. He extended his glare to Lucian, too.

Lucian moved to Dylan’s side. “And you’d better hope you don’t need any favors from us.” That was the tone that had earned Lucian the nickname of Lucifer.

The staring match started—a game of eyeball chicken—and it didn’t surprise Dylan when Walter Ray was the first one to look away. Lucian’s venom wasn’t something that anybody wanted to dick around with because Lucian could be, well, a dick, and his bad side could be a whole lot worse than all the collective bad sides in town.

“My beef’s not with you,” Walter Ray grumbled to Lucian after he’d lost the eyeball-chicken match.

“If it’s with my brother, then it’s with me,” Lucian assured him. “You can show yourself out.”

Dylan didn’t know who was more surprised—him or Walter Ray. His guess was Walter Ray, because the man’s face turned red. He looked like an inflamed testicle, and it didn’t go well with the dick-shaped nose.

Walter Ray stood there several more long moments, volleying his glare, getting redder and sputtering out some ripe profanity until he finally turned and left. He made his size known with his clomping footsteps. And then he slammed the front door.

“You fuck this up, and I’ll smother you in your sleep,” Lucian snarled to Dylan as he walked out.

Ah, there was Lucifer again, who’d stepped up to dissolve the caring brother. And Dylan didn’t get a chance to ask him what would cause that potential smothering. Hurting the family business or messing up things with Corbin. The first was a huge possibility now that they were on the outs with Walter Ray, but Dylan thought he could still do all right by Corbin.

Of course, that started with laying down some ground rules to Jordan. No custody for her, but he would be generous with visitation when she wasn’t off doing her duty for the military. Once he had made that clear, then she could be on her way to work out those changes she’d talked about.

Changes she would be making with Theo, no doubt.

Dylan could smell the pizza once he stepped out of the sunroom, and he crossed the foyer and went into the kitchen. Corbin was at the table, chowing down on a slice with a small plastic cup of milk next to his plate.

“Pep-ronni,” Corbin announced.

It was indeed pepperoni with extra cheese. Dylan’s favorite. Apparently, it was Corbin’s favorite, too.

Karlee was sitting across from the boy. She smiled at Dylan when he came in, but the smile didn’t quite make it to her eyes. He had no idea why, but maybe she’d overheard the argument that Lucian and he had had with the judge.

He glanced around the large eat-in kitchen, but there was no sign of Jordan. “Did she leave?” he asked Karlee.

She shook her head and motioned to the side porch. “Jordan got a call and stepped out there to talk.”

Probably Theo again.

It really wasn’t an adult thing to hate a person sight unseen and when he knew little about him, but Dylan did know one important thing. That he was green-eyed-monster jealous.

Yep.

It made no sense. He hadn’t been married to Jordan in a long time, and they’d obviously both gotten on with their lives. Still, it stung, and Dylan wasn’t sure he wanted to think long enough about it to figure out why.

Dylan gave Corbin a thumbs-up when the boy finished his pizza and went into the box for another slice. Corbin grinned around the next bite he took. Dylan intended to do some eating and grinning, too, but then he looked out the side French doors and saw Jordan. Her back was to him, and she wasn’t talking on the phone, which meant she’d finished the chat that had required some privacy.

“Whatever you do, don’t show any hints that you feel sorry for her,” Karlee said when she followed Dylan’s gaze. “Jordan’s upset that folks treat her like she’s damaged goods because she’s not. She says she’s fine.”

That worked for him. He didn’t want her to be damaged or feel as if she was. He wanted her tough and strong, like the old Jordan. His Jordan.

Well, when she had been his, that is.

But that was a lot of water under an old bridge. She had a new life, and so did he, and it started with those ground rules.

His phone buzzed, and when he saw his mom’s name on the screen, he let it go to voice mail.

“I’ll be right back,” he told Corbin and Karlee, and he headed to the French doors. Dylan took a deep breath. Several of them. And he planned out exactly what he was going to say to get Jordan to leave and forget all about trying to get custody of Corbin.

The moment he opened the doors, Jordan whirled around to face him, and those ground rules floated off like dandelion fluff. That’s because the unguarded look she gave him sent him spinning back to when they were nineteen and crazy in love.

But now he was obviously just “ordinary/not in love” crazy.

Because there was no way his body should feel that need slide through him. No way he should be staring at her mouth as if he wanted that instead of a slice of pizza. Thankfully, Jordan put a quick stop to it by saying just a handful of words.

“Your mom just called me.”

Dylan hadn’t seen that coming, and he wondered if it had something to do with the call that she’d just made to him. He got the feeling that it did when his phone buzzed with yet another call from her.

“You should answer that,” Jordan insisted. “Because your mom knows about Corbin. She knows that I’m here, too, and she just told me that she wants me to stay at the ranch until we’ve all had a chance to talk. She’s hoping to be back here by tomorrow night.”

Crap. That wasn’t good. Yes, his mom, Regina, co-owned the house, but it wasn’t her place to do this. Not when it would put Jordan, Regina and him under the same roof.

Dylan was about to hit the answer button to take the call, but then Jordan said something else that had him saying something much stronger than crap.

Jordan looked him straight in the eyes. “And Regina’s talking to her lawyer now so that she can petition to get custody of Corbin.”

CHAPTER FIVE

JORDAN GLANCED AT the clock on the nightstand and groaned. Five thirty in the morning. It was a full hour earlier than her normal time to get up, but the cold sweat had woken her. Sweat that had wet her camisole to the point where it was uncomfortable. She got up, shucked it off and went to the shower.

Maybe it wouldn’t be too long before Dylan and Corbin got up, too, and then she could resume the chat that Dylan and she had had on and off the night before. The chat where he’d let her know that he was pissed off at what was happening.

And Jordan couldn’t blame him.

She’d thought Regina’s out-of-the-blue custody demand was a bad idea from the very moment the woman had made it. She believed it was an even worse idea when Dylan and his mom had gotten into an argument that ended with Regina standing her ground. And now that it was morning, Jordan still believed it was bad. That’s why she was here, at the ranch, in one of the many guest rooms so that eventually Dylan and she could work out what they were going to do.

Jordan hadn’t gone to the inn in town as she’d planned because there hadn’t been a room available. Plus, she hadn’t wanted to be that far away from Corbin. She was worried that once he realized his mom wasn’t around, he might feel abandoned, and Jordan wanted to be there for him.

Of course, Dylan wanted to be there for the boy, too. And he was. Dylan had stayed right there through the pizza dinner, Corbin’s bath and putting him to bed in the room next to Dylan’s. Dylan had insisted on that, and then had also insisted that he would sleep on the floor next to Corbin’s bed in case the little boy got scared about being in unfamiliar surroundings.

Jordan had also wanted to stay with Corbin, but she hadn’t intended to compound Regina’s bad idea with one of her own. It just wouldn’t have been good for her to be that close to Dylan. Because despite their dispute, and now their joint dispute with Regina, there was still lust in the air.

For some stupid reason, she kept thinking about kissing Dylan. Probably because kissing had been one of his best talents. She wasn’t sure how a man became good at something like that. Plenty of practice, probably, but he’d been a downright pro even back in the days when she’d been the recipient of some of Dylan’s first kisses. Maybe it was the shape of his mouth. Or the gentle but coaxing pressure. Or that taste.

Mercy, that taste.

She’d never been able to label it, but it was some sort of version of cowboy sin.

Which was exactly why she should stop thinking about it.

Jordan finished her shower and dressed as quickly as she could. And the quickly included not looking in the mirror any longer than necessary. She was having trouble with mirrors these days because she didn’t want to see her own face. After she’d been rescued, she had seen her reflection in the helmet-visor of one of her rescuers. That image of her stark fear was what she saw now whenever she caught a glimpse of herself. No need for her to relive that. Instead, she focused on the shimmer of gold from a navel ring as she pulled on her jeans and top.

In hindsight, getting the ring seemed silly. Like a mistake that she should fix by just taking out the little circle and letting the piercing heal. But she’d wanted to do something, well, different. Something that got her mind off what’d happened, so the day she’d gotten out of the hospital, Jordan had found a place to do it. The piece of jewelry had gotten her through some tough mornings while she’d dressed.

And it was large enough that it sort of looked like a much-thinner version of her old wedding ring.

A reminder that kept troubling her a little.

Since she didn’t want to deal with her inability to remove unwanted body jewelry, she switched her attention to Dylan’s mom. Instead of labeling the taste of his kiss, she should be figuring out Regina’s angle. Or if there even was an angle. The woman had said a boy needed a mom, and that since Adele was locked up and Jordan was in the military, that she—as Corbin’s grandmother—should get custody.

It was an old-fashioned idea that a woman/mother would be a better parenting choice, but then Regina could be set in her ways. Ironic though, that after her own divorce, Regina hadn’t been around much afterward to actually raise her own kids. Neither had her ex-husband. Child-rearing responsibility had been pretty much left to Lucian. But according to what Karlee had said, in recent months Regina had seemingly wanted to make up for lost time with her kids. Karlee’s theory was since Regina’s brush with death from breast cancer, she was now trying to be the mom she probably should have been all those years ago.

And Regina was extending that mom-hood to being a hands-on grandmother.

During the arguments that Dylan had had with his mom the night before, he’d accused Regina of matchmaking. Jordan also agreed that could be a possibility. And trying to interfere in her son’s love life was a lot easier to swallow than believing the woman wanted to keep Dylan from getting custody of his son. That meant Regina likely thought the same thing as everyone else.

That Dylan wasn’t responsible enough for fatherhood.

Jordan was sure that stung for him. The same way it stung for her when people gave her that poor, pitiful you look. But in Dylan’s case, folks might be right.

Might.

She didn’t really know the man that Dylan had become, but the preliminary signs weren’t good with the sex bingo card that the dog had brought in. Of course, maybe the card was a prank and there weren’t others floating around out there, waiting to have enough sex boxes ticked off.

Jordan put on some makeup and a dress since she’d have to see both Adele and a lawyer today. She also wanted to spend as much time with Corbin as possible. Dylan had had extra hours with the boy, and while this wasn’t a competition, Jordan wanted Corbin to know her as well as he did Dylan. Besides, it probably wouldn’t be long before Regina arrived and threw things into even more chaos.

Before she headed downstairs in search of the coffeepot, Jordan gave herself a final but fast check in the mirror, and she wanted to curse when she saw what was dangling out from the neck of her dress.

The wedding band and engagement ring.

The very ones that Dylan had given her over fourteen years ago.

They weren’t something she usually wore. In fact, she normally opted for no jewelry at all, but when she’d decided to fly from Germany to San Antonio, she’d put them on the gold chain with the intention of somehow getting them back to Dylan. After all, the diamond was huge, probably two carats, and since she had been the one to end things, it’d never seemed right to keep them. Now that she had finally seen him, she would be able to return them to him.

For now though, she shoved the rings back beneath the dress and tiptoed out of the guest room and into the hall. Since everyone was probably still asleep, she kept tiptoeing past Corbin’s room, but when she saw the door was open, she peeked inside.

And her heart went to her toenails.

Because he wasn’t there. Neither was Dylan. The room was empty. So was the adjoining bathroom because Jordan had a quick, frantic search in there before she went running down the stairs. My God. She hoped Dylan hadn’t run off with the boy as a way of avoiding custody showdowns with her and his mother.

Jordan definitely wasn’t tiptoeing now. She was taking the steps two at a time and trying to stave off the thoughts that something bad had happened when she spotted Karlee.

Karlee was wearing pj’s and looked as if she’d just gotten out of bed. She immediately put her index finger to her mouth in a “stay quiet” gesture. Then, she motioned for Jordan to follow her. Since Karlee wasn’t alarmed, Jordan tried to tamp down the panic bubbling up inside her. She didn’t succeed in doing that until they got into the kitchen and she saw Corbin.

And Dylan.

The two were asleep. Dylan’s head was resting on the kitchen table while Corbin was sacked out in the booster seat that one of the housekeepers had located in the attic. His head was on the plastic tray. There were cereal bowls next to each of them, and Booger was napping underneath Corbin’s chair.

“Corbin got up at four,” Karlee whispered. “I heard Dylan bring him down here so I came to check on them and make some coffee.”

Instant guilt. Jordan felt a boatload of it because she hadn’t heard a peep from either of them. Though Karlee obviously had.

“Dylan should have woken me,” Jordan muttered.

Karlee lifted her eyebrow. “You really think it’d be wise for Dylan to come to your bedroom? If I recall our teenage years, you used to sleep practically commando.”

Jordan still did. Usually she just wore panties and maybe a camisole. So, Karlee was right—it probably wouldn’t have been a good idea for Dylan to knock on the guest room door since he would have been looking all sleepy and hot.

As opposed to his usual hot and awake.

“When I came back down a couple of minutes ago,” Karlee went on, still keeping her voice low, “I found them like this.” She quietly went to the coffeepot, poured Jordan a cup, and then topped hers off. “You think I should wake them?”

Jordan shook her head. Though it was tempting. She would have liked to talk with Corbin. Even have cereal with him. But he was sleeping, well, like a baby. So was Dylan, for that matter. And yes, he was in the hot and sleepy mode.

Karlee and she took their coffee into the foyer. That way, Jordan could still be close enough to Corbin if he woke up, but she could also talk to Karlee without the risk of the boy hearing.

“I didn’t think you’d be here,” Jordan said. “I thought Lucian and you were going back to San Antonio.”

“Lucian wisely delayed the trip.” She stared at Jordan from over the top of her coffee cup. “So, just how riled is Dylan about Regina? How pissed off are you?”