Lone Star Blues

by Delores Fossen

  It was hard to be charming when he was confused and mad. Yes, mad. If the ring had meant anything to Jordan, then she should have told him. He made it two steps before he realized how stupid that sounded. Their marriage had ended ages ago, and maybe the only reason she had the ring with her was so she could return it to him. It could mean nothing.

  Hell.

  Now he was riled about that.

  Despite his flip-flopping mood, Dylan went in search of Jordan, but he ran into Abe along the way. The timing couldn’t have been worse, but Abe pulled out several of the bingo cards.

  “Sorry,” Abe said, “the rain got to the top one, but I figured you’d still pay me for it anyway.”

  Dylan huffed. He would have paid him even more if all the ink on all the pages had been illegible. “I’ll write you a check for them later,” he added, stuffing them into the inside pocket of his jacket.

  “Are you about to check on your crying girlfriend?” Abe asked.

  Dylan had already started to walk away, but that stopped him. “Jordan’s crying?”

  Abe’s forehead bunched up. “Is she your girlfriend?” He shook his head. “Never heard a man call his ex-wife a girlfriend. Say, is it true that she’s got a...dick tattoo on her backside?”

  Dylan was sure his forehead bunched up, too. “How’d you know about the tat and who’s crying?”

  “Gossip and the judge’s daughter,” Abe answered. “Judge Walter Ray Turley’s daughter.”

  He considered pressing Abe as to which gossip had gleaned him that info about Jordan’s ass, though he doubted he’d learn the origin, but it meant someone had gotten a rather intimate peek of Jordan. Later, he’d find out who that was, but for now the crying woman was the issue. Then, questioning Jordan about the ring.

  “Which of the judge’s daughters is crying?” Dylan pressed. He glanced around the sunroom. It was packed, but other than Bianca, he didn’t see another Turley. And Bianca definitely wasn’t crying. She was hanging close to Lucian’s side as if he were the solution to world peace and calorie-free premium chocolate.

  Abe shook his head. “Sorry, I can’t tell ’em apart, but it’s the one who was just here. Not today but not that long ago.”

  Hell, Abe would have to get more specific because both Melanie and her sister Misty had been at the ranch in the past two weeks. Dylan tried a different angle. “Where was this crying Turley?”

  “Parked in her car just up the road. Maybe she was upset about not getting an invite to the wedding.”

  That was possible. Dylan vaguely remembered Eve asking him if he wanted her to invite Melanie, but he honestly couldn’t remember what he’d told her. All of that seemed a lifetime ago what with Corbin’s arrival.

  Dylan took out his phone to call Melanie to check on her. No answer. So he continued his search for Jordan, and this time he found her before he could get interrupted again.

  Jordan was coming out of the kitchen, and she immediately took hold of his arm and pulled him into the powder room. All right. That saved him from telling her that he wanted to go somewhere private where they could talk. Obviously, she wanted privacy, too, because she shut the door.

  “Did you tell anyone about my tat?” she asked.

  Oh, that. “Nary a soul, but since Abe knows about it, someone blabbed.”

  “Abe knows about it?” Jordan practically howled. “The housekeepers do, too. So does Bianca Turley and the caterer.” She paused a second, her expression going a little dark. “Theo.”

  Dylan thought his expression might have darkened, too. Of course, Theo would likely know about the tattoo. After all, he was Jordan’s ex-boyfriend, but it bothered Dylan more than he wanted to realize that Jordan had had sex with that guy. Not nearly as much as it bothered him, though, that Theo might have spilled something like that to anyone, much less to someone in Wrangler’s Creek.

  She took out her phone, probably to call Theo, but Dylan wanted to settle something else with her first. He took her hand and dropped the wedding band into her palm. “Eve wanted me to return this to you.”

  And he waited.

  And waited.

  But Jordan just shrugged and slipped the ring into her pocket. What she didn’t do was offer any explanation whatsoever. So Dylan reached in her pocket to take it out so he could open up the discussion.

  Something he wished he’d given more thought.

  The pocket was small. His hand wasn’t. Also, the pocket was on the side of her dress, angling from her hip to the front of her body—an area he definitely shouldn’t be touching. That’s why he quickly tried to draw back his hand, but because of the small size/big hand thing, he ended up doing some jiggling. It seemed like some sort of foreplay, and Dylan nearly cheered in victory when he finally managed to get his fingers on it.

  He didn’t cheer for long, though.

  That’s because Jordan started jiggling his wrist, maybe an attempt to stop him from touching her, and in the process she grabbed his balls again. Or rather she knocked into them with the back of her hand. That didn’t put him on his knees, but he did sink in that general direction, and he grabbed onto Jordan to break his fall.

  And that’s how Bianca found them when she threw open the powder room door.

  “This isn’t how it looks,” Jordan immediately said.

  Dylan didn’t even attempt an explanation. He had hold of Jordan by the waist/buttocks. Her hand was on his balls. And at that moment, the wedding ring that he’d worked so hard to retrieve pinged to the floor and bounced a couple of times. It landed right next to Bianca’s shoe.

  “Oh my God. Did I interrupt you proposing to Jordan again?” Bianca asked.

  “No,” Jordan answered. Good thing, too, because Dylan was still having some pain management issues because of the ball knocking. He needed to start wearing an athletic cup around Jordan.

  Jordan reached down, scooped up the ring and shoved it back in the very pocket that had already caused too much trouble. “Eve borrowed the ring, and Dylan was returning it, that’s all. No proposal involved.”

  Yes, returning it along with having some questions about why she still had it. Questions that were going to have to keep, because it was obvious he needed to deal with Bianca because she didn’t look as if she was buying Jordan’s non-proposal claim. She wasn’t a gossip like so many others, but he didn’t want her leaving with the wrong idea.

  “If there is something going on between you two, then my advice is to try to keep it quiet for a while,” Bianca said. “You don’t want this getting back to Melanie or my dad. He’s already mad about what happened at the bachelor party, and he’ll get madder if Melanie is upset. I don’t want him to take it out on you if Theo and you have a custody showdown in Daddy’s court.”

  Dylan had to mentally repeat everything Bianca had just said. “Theo? Custody?”

  Jordan did some repeating, too. “Daddy’s court?”

  Bianca nodded to all of those, and she must have thought a nod was enough of a response because she turned as if to walk away. Jordan stopped her by stepping in front of her.

  “Theo is actually considering a court showdown?” Jordan asked.

  Bianca nodded again. “Theo’s got to be leaving soon to go back to the base where he’s stationed, but he’s planning on asking to be reassigned here in Texas. He called Daddy to talk about it. He’s actually called a lot of people. And he’s been spending his evenings at the Longhorn doing yet more talking.” Bianca looked at Jordan. “He let it slip about a tattoo you have.”

  Dylan was about to curse, but Jordan beat him to it. She also took out her phone and called Theo, but he didn’t answer.

  “Is Theo bad-mouthing Jordan?” Dylan asked Bianca.

  “Not sure you could call it that. He did mention the tattoo and that he’s worried about Jordan’s well-being. You know, because of...you know.”

 
; There was no need for Bianca to clarify that. So, yeah, Theo was bad-mouthing Jordan maybe because he was jealous of them or maybe because he was dead wrong about Jordan being a good mom. Dylan had seen her with Corbin, and she definitely wasn’t lacking in the motherhood department.

  “Is Theo still staying at the inn?” Jordan asked.

  A third nod from Bianca. “But they haven’t found one of the snakes yet so Alfred’s moving Theo and the other guests from room to room while they keep searching.”

  Alfred Crenshaw was the owner of the Red Rooster Inn, and while Dylan could call him to ask if Theo was in whatever room he’d been assigned, it was best if he talked to Theo in person. It was obvious that Theo wasn’t going to let go of his paternity claim on Corbin if he’d involved a judge who was currently pissed off at Dylan.

  “This is why Lucian wanted the DNA test,” Jordan mumbled.

  That could have been part of it, yes. But Dylan wasn’t going to give Lucian any big brother awards just yet because he should have gotten permission for doing something like that. Permission that Dylan wouldn’t have given him.

  If someone asked him why he didn’t want the test, he would stick to his guns about believing Adele. Which in hindsight probably wasn’t very smart. Still, Corbin was his, and it didn’t matter what the test said.

  “I’ll drive up the road and find Theo,” Jordan said, already heading toward the front of the house. “Could you tell Regina that I won’t be able to do the next dance with Corbin?”

  “I’m going with you,” Dylan insisted. And he didn’t give Jordan a chance to argue with that.

  As they went to the front door, he texted his mom, knowing that Regina would be in hog heaven because she’d be able to spend more time with Corbin. Still, that didn’t mean Dylan wanted to spend any more time with Theo than was necessary to get his point across.

  Jordan grabbed her keys from the foyer table, threw open the door, and it was as if a tidal wave came at them. Dylan had known it was raining, but this seemed to be a couple of steps past the mere storm stage. Still, that didn’t stop Jordan. She opened an umbrella, which promptly flew out of her hands with a gust of wind. That didn’t stop her, either. Pushing the unlock button on her keys, she ran to her car. So did Dylan and he got into the passenger’s seat at the same time she got behind the wheel.

  There wasn’t a single inch of him that was dry.

  The rain had seemingly blown from multiple directions at once, and Jordan hadn’t fared much better. Her hair was plastered to her head, her makeup running, and her clothes had become transparent.

  Something he wouldn’t mention. Or try to notice.

  Hell. He noticed. Dylan saw the outlines of her nipples.

  She turned on the engine and the heater full blast, but Dylan estimated it would be a day or two before they dried out. That didn’t deter her from going after Theo, though. Jordan put the car in gear and started driving despite the fact that there was only an inch of visibility. That meant they were creeping along. So slow that it might indeed take that day or two to reach the inn.

  “I swear Theo’s not usually like this,” she grumbled. Then paused. “Well, sometimes he is. He’s persistent when he gets an idea in his head even when it’s a bad one.”

  At least she wasn’t taking Theo’s side. That was something. Of course, Dylan wasn’t sure how Jordan would feel if her ex-boyfriend kept up this fight. Or got his new pal, Judge Turley, to order a DNA test. Dylan didn’t have to guess how Jordan would feel if Theo continued to push for custody. She’d be as pissed off about that as Dylan was. And Adele would get in on that who-was-pissed-off-most contest because she’d made it clear that Theo couldn’t possibly be the father.

  “And Theo shouldn’t be talking about my so-called well-being to anyone other than me,” Jordan added. She glanced at him as if he might disagree with that, but Dylan only shrugged.

  And thought about it.

  “If you tell me you’re okay, I’ll believe you,” Dylan said. And he waited for her to confirm that “fine” part.

  Her silence lasted longer than it took snails to go a marathon. “I’m supposed to take meds, but I don’t.” Another long pause. “I have nightmares.”

  “Yeah, I remember.” He pointed to his balls and steeled himself up to hear her say that the nightmares were godawful and that they were driving her to the brink. Or maybe she’d say that everything was hunky-dory and that she was tired of people fussing over her.

  She kept her attention on the windshield. “I’m not a hero.”

  All right, that hadn’t been one of his steeling-up options, and Dylan wasn’t sure how to go with this. If he disagreed and said she was indeed a hero, then it might trigger an argument he didn’t want to have with her. Not when it felt as if they were on the same side.

  For the moment anyway.

  Dylan wanted to hang on to that moment, since it seemed as if whatever they did together would benefit Corbin along with squashing Theo like a bug.

  “I’m not a hero, either,” Dylan finally answered though it was almost certainly the wrong thing to say. Plus, it was as obvious as her puckered nipples. “Maybe we can aim for something slightly below the hero level and be okay with that?”

  Yeah, definitely the wrong thing to say. It sounded like something that a really bad life coach would come up with.

  “Maybe,” Jordan whispered, and it seemed as if she was agreeing with him. “I’m almost certain I’ll be getting out of the Air Force.”

  Almost certain. So she was still mulling it over. Perhaps even wondering if she could get reassigned nearby as Theo might do.

  “You’re getting out because of Corbin?” he asked.

  The fact that she didn’t jump to answer that told him loads. That maybe this non-hero label was playing into it. “Uh, we need to talk about something else,” Jordan insisted.

  That was fine by him, but Dylan figured this was a subject that might come up for a while yet. There might be more nightmares. More of those unsettled looks. Since there was nothing he could do about that, he went with changing the subject. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a pleasant one.

  “Bianca won’t tell anyone about what she thought she saw in the bathroom,” Dylan threw out there. “Well, no one other than Lucian. But it’s probably a good idea for you to clarify to Theo that we’re not together. He could be putting up this bad idea of a fight as a way of trying to hang on to you.”

  She made a sound of agreement. Angry agreement. “I’ll clarify a lot of things to Theo.”

  He figured Theo wasn’t going to care much for those clarifications, but it needed to be done with the hopes that it might get the man to back off. Might. Dylan needed to do the same to Melanie with the same hope of getting that might. He didn’t want her encouraging her dad and Theo simply because she was jealous. And besides, there really wasn’t anything going on between Jordan and him.

  Well, nothing except he couldn’t keep his eyes off her.

  Dylan forced his attention off her nipples, and he soon spotted the piece of paper on the dash. Familiar paper since it was a bingo card.

  “Oh,” she said when he reached for it. “I got that from Arlo’s gas station.”

  Dylan sighed. He’d need to send Abe looking there for any others.

  Jordan cursed, hit her hands on the steering wheel, and for a moment Dylan thought she was reacting to the card. But no. The rain got even harder, and their one inch of visibility went to zero. Jordan wisely pulled to the side of the road, stopped the car and put on her emergency lights. She also tried to call Theo again.

  Still no answer.

  “Maybe the rain will let up soon,” she grumbled, looking out the window.

  Maybe, and if not, they might have to postpone this little adventure. It bugged him, though, that Theo might not be answering his phone because he was avoiding them. Well, avoidance wasn�
��t going to work. And Dylan should know because he was having no luck in keeping his eyes off Jordan.

  Her bra was lace. He could see that, too, and it was one of those barely there garments that caused his groin to tighten. Of course, anything Jordan happened to be wearing would probably have the same effect on him. That’s why he tried to glue his attention to the bingo card.

  “You got the hard one,” he said.

  Jordan looked over at it. “It’s not that hard. We’ve done that one.” She pointed to the square about making out on horseback. “And that one.” Sex on the hood of a truck. “That one, too.” A thigh hickey.

  Yes, they had indeed done all of those, but he pointed to one block that she couldn’t check. “You haven’t made out with me in a thunderstorm.”

  Good timing because at that exact moment, it thundered.

  She was still scowling over Theo and this drive, and the scowl stayed in place when she shifted her attention to him. “We’re not making out.”

  “No, we’re not,” he agreed. “But this is close enough that you can check off the box if you want.”

  “Close enough?” she challenged.

  “I was thinking about making out with you,” Dylan admitted.

  He figured that was only going to cause her scowl to get a whole lot worse, but it didn’t. Jordan groaned softly and laid the back of her head against the seat. Not relaxing. More like surrendering to the fact that she wasn’t going to get to yell at Theo while her anger was still at the hissy fit stage. It was going to be more of a cool-down anger. And if her nipples were still showing like that, Theo might get so caught up in the view that he didn’t even hear what she said.

  But Dylan heard her all right.

  “I kept my wedding and engagement rings because it didn’t seem right to throw them away,” she said. “I thought they might be family heirlooms or something.”

  They weren’t. He’d bought them at a jewelry store in San Antonio, but it was decent of her to think of that possibility.