Lone Star Blues
Page 23
And speaking of sperm, Dylan heard the truck approaching, and when it came into view, he spotted Mack behind the wheel. Mack spotted them, too, because his eyes widened with concern. If he knew what shit was about to hit the fan, he might turn around and drive off.
Dylan figured it was a bad thing that he was hoping for that.
Mack stopped his truck, got out and slowly made his way to them. Of course, Dylan immediately tried to pick through Mack’s features to see if there was any resemblance to Corbin. Maybe there was. But since Corbin looked so much like Adele, then there weren’t any obvious O’Malley genes.
“What’d I screw up now?” Mack asked his sister. It sounded as if he’d wanted to use a much-harder word than screw, and he put his hands on his hips in a defensive posture. Obviously, he was used to having to deal with Karlee when it came to the consequences of his actions.
Karlee looked at Dylan, giving him the chance to answer that. “Adele,” was all he said.
Mack lifted his shoulder. “I heard she got arrested, but I didn’t have anything to do with that. Contrary to popular belief around here, I’m not the source of all bad stuff that happens in or around Wrangler’s Creek.”
He was definitely defensive. And Mack clearly didn’t have a clue as to what was going on so Dylan took a deep breath and filled him in.
“Adele Rivera had a baby two-and-a-half years ago. A boy. His name is Corbin.”
Mack shrugged again. It was still not registering, but then he froze. His eyes went to the size of turkey platters, and this time when he cursed, it was much worse than the screw word.
“Yeah,” Dylan confirmed. “You got Adele pregnant, and now you have a son.”
Mack started shaking his head, but he didn’t seem to be denying what Dylan had just told him. The guy was having trouble wrapping his mind around it. Dylan knew exactly how he felt, because he’d gone through something similar a month ago when the social worker had first brought Corbin to the ranch. It hadn’t taken that long for the shock to wear off, though, and for him to realize how much he loved the boy.
He still did.
Not sharing DNA with Corbin hadn’t changed that one bit.
Mack sucked in some quick breaths and caught onto the porch column to steady himself. “Adele never said anything about it. She didn’t tell me. I didn’t know.”
Dylan nearly filled in that particular blank—to let Mack know that Adele hadn’t thought he would care and that whole bad-daddy concern. But Mack would no doubt fill in the blank soon enough for himself.
“Corbin’s inside,” Dylan said. “Would you like to see him?”
That offer hadn’t been an especially easy one to make. Dylan was having to fight the urge to go into flight mode with the boy.
Mack looked at Karlee as if she would give him the answer to that, but she huffed. Only then did Mack nod.
It was hard for Dylan to get his feet moving, but Karlee helped with that, too. She took hold of his arm and led him into the house with Mack and Regina right behind them. They followed the sound of Corbin’s laughter that was coming from the kitchen, and when they got there, Dylan saw that Jordan had made drinking milk fun. She’d given Corbin a straw, and he was blowing bubbles into the glass. The frothy white foam was high over the rim.
“’Ook, Daddy,” Corbin said when he spotted them.
Mack staggered back as if he might have a heart attack.
“He’s not talking to you,” Dylan assured the guy. “That’s what he calls me.” Though he would have to do something about that. He’d have to coach Corbin into using his name. And Dylan wondered just how much that was going to sting to hear “Dylan” come out of the boy’s mouth.
Probably as much as it hurt to see Mack ogling Corbin as if he were an alien instead of the great kid that he was.
Dylan went closer to the table, hoping that it would prompt Mack to do the same. It didn’t. Mack stayed back, and he started the head shaking thing again.
“Shit,” Mack grumbled.
Dylan nearly blasted him for cursing around Corbin, but again, he’d been in Mack’s place so he held his tongue. Besides, Corbin didn’t seem to hear over his bubble blowing.
“Shit,” Mack repeated.
That’s when Karlee gave him a sisterly poke on the arm, but since she used her fist, it was more than a stern reminder tap to watch his language.
Mack opened his mouth as if to repeat the word, but then he must have thought better of it because he hurried out of the kitchen.
“I’ll stay with Corbin,” Regina volunteered when Jordan stood.
Good. Because Jordan needed to be part of whatever it was Mack was going to say. Or do. He might demand to walk out with Corbin. And if he did, Dylan wasn’t sure what he was going to do.
Karlee, Jordan and Dylan followed Mack, and by the time they all met up in the foyer, Mack was still shaking his head.
“I want a DNA test,” Mack said, looking directly at Dylan. “Because I’m not even sure that the kid is mine.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
JORDAN HAD TO bite her tongue to keep from lashing out at Mack. Not only because he wasn’t gushing about how precious Corbin was but also because he was basically accusing Adele of lying.
Which Adele had done when she’d told Dylan he was the father.
Adele had lied through her teeth, and that’s the only reason Jordan didn’t give Mack a piece of her mind. However, she did give him some glares.
“I was only with Adele one time,” Mack added.
“That’s all it takes,” Dylan assured him, and he was glaring at him, too.
But Karlee was winning the contest when it came to giving Mack some freezing-hell looks. Of course, Karlee had a history of that since she’d practically raised her kid brother. A brother who now had a kid of his own. One that Dylan, Karlee, Regina and she had all come to love.
“I used a condom,” Mack went on. “And don’t ask me how I remember that after all this time,” he added to his sister, “because I always use a condom. That’s the one lesson you drilled into my head that actually stuck.”
“I’m glad something stuck,” Karlee snapped, “but condoms aren’t a hundred percent effective. That’s something else I told you. Is the timing right? Did you have sex with Adele about three years and three months ago?”
Mack’s mouth tightened. “I still don’t think he’s mine.” What he didn’t do was acknowledge the whole right-timing thing. “Shit, he doesn’t even look like me.” He stopped, shook his head and mumbled another, “Shit.”
Apparently, that was one “shit” too many for Karlee because she took hold of Mack’s arm and marched him out the front door. “Excuse me while I have a word with my brother.”
Jordan figured it was going to be more than only a word. There would possibly be yelling involved. Maybe more of those arm pokes like the one she’d given him in the kitchen.
“He’s mine, isn’t he?” Jordan heard Mack ask his sister. He cursed some more, groaned. “Corbin’s mine.”
“Why don’t we take Corbin to the back porch so he can play?” Jordan suggested since they could still hear Mack’s profanity. It sounded though as if Mack was at least accepting the paternity. It made Jordan wonder how he would handle it once it’d sunk in.
Thankfully, Dylan didn’t argue, but when they reached the kitchen, Jordan thought Regina looked ready to battle someone.
“There’s no way Mack O’Malley should have Corbin,” Regina whispered. She covered Corbin’s ears. “He peed in the gas tank of Mildred Wheeler’s Toyota after she fussed at him for being drunk in public. Then, he peed on those feral chickens that are out by Police Chief McKinnon’s house when somebody bet him that he couldn’t do it. One of the chickens got mad, jumped on his wiener and spurred him. He needed stitches.”
Jordan sighed and hoped none of these were recen
t incidents. Or that Mack’s peeing issues were part of some deeper psychological problem.
“And then there was the time he put a bunch of pigeons in the school building right after Christmas break,” Regina went on. “They pooped everywhere.”
Again, she was hoping for nonrecent stuff, and just in case it wasn’t, Jordan stopped Regina when she opened her mouth to continue the Mack bashing.
“Maybe Mack’s changed,” Jordan suggested. She didn’t actually want to defend him, but she wanted to say something that might soothe Regina’s raw nerves. “After all, he’s working for Garrett now.”
“Only because Karlee called in a few favors.” Regina still had her hands over Corbin’s ears, but since he had gone back to blowing milk bubbles, he probably wouldn’t have heard her anyway. Who knew that blowing into a straw could be so loud? “I can have my lawyer do a restraining order or whatever it is you call it when you stop someone from trying to do the wrong thing.”
It might be the wrong side in their eyes, but the law wasn’t going to agree with them about that. However, it did surprise her that Regina wanted to hang on to Corbin even though she now knew the boy wasn’t her grandson.
“There’s no need for lawyers,” Dylan told his mom. “Mack probably won’t even want custody.”
That was true, and since Karlee knew her brother’s shortcomings, maybe she’d be able to reach some kind of agreement with him. An agreement that would get him to sign over all his parental rights to...
She mentally filled in the blank with Dylan’s name. But she wanted Corbin, too. Which meant they were back to square one.
“Mack really doesn’t want custody?” Regina asked. Finally, there was some relief in her voice, and she no longer looked as if she was holding a live wire.
“Seems that way,” Jordan answered.
It was hard not to be angry at him for that, but Jordan reminded herself that Mack was only twenty-three, and he could barely support himself. She wasn’t even sure he had a permanent place to stay—hardly the ideal circumstances to take on raising a toddler.
Dylan went to Corbin, scooped him up and blew a raspberry on his belly, causing the boy to giggle like a loon. It was exactly what Jordan needed to push away some of the gloom and doom that’d settled over her since learning about the DNA test and Adele’s lie.
Regina didn’t follow Dylan and her when they took Corbin out back, but she did pull her phone from her pocket. Probably to do the very thing Dylan had just warned her not to do. But if Regina was indeed calling a lawyer, then maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.
Booger shot out the door with them when they went onto the back porch. It was sweltering hot, but that didn’t stop Corbin from immediately wanting Dylan to put him down so he could chase the dog.
“Be careful,” Jordan said to Corbin.
“Don’t fall,” Dylan told the boy at the same time. They sounded like worried parents. For a good reason. Corbin had fresh stitches, and they didn’t want him hurt again.
They stood there watching Corbin play, and for a moment Jordan nearly stepped right into Dylan’s arms. But he didn’t exactly have a “hug me” expression. Nor did he seem to be open for a conversation. Neither would have helped anyway, especially since things were still shaky between them after the hotel sex.
And the car sex.
And the long heated looks they’d been giving each other since she’d been back.
Normally, things like that only built the intimacy between two people, but in their case, it just complicated the heck out of things. Those complications weren’t likely to get any better if Dylan and she had to duke it out for custody once Mack excused himself from this. Which led her to something else she’d yet to tell Dylan.
“Before all Hades broke loose earlier today over the DNA test and Adele’s lie, I signed my Air Force separation papers,” Jordan explained. “I figured next week I’d put in a job application at the hospital and look for a house to rent or buy.”
Dylan glanced at her but then nailed his attention to Corbin. “So you’re staying.” He paused. “You’re sure you’ll be okay with that?”
That was a huge, multifaceted question. It involved her wanderlust. Her PTSD. And maybe even the sex.
“I’m thinking if things start closing in on me that I can travel,” she said. “There are places in the world that I’d like to show Corbin.”
He made a sound of agreement. “And the nightmares?”
“Counseling.” Jordan didn’t have to think about that. She needed it, period. The nightmares were becoming less frequent. Ditto for being on the doorstep of a full-blown panic attack when she thought of the “hole.” But that didn’t mean things inside her had been stitched up and ready for healing. A green lollipop definitely wasn’t going to make things better.
“So, travel and counseling.” Dylan made another sound of agreement. “Two fairly easy fixes.” He looked at her. “I’m not such an easy fix, though.”
No. He wasn’t. If she got full custody of Corbin, Dylan would still want to see the boy. And she’d want Dylan to see him. That meant she’d be seeing him, too.
“We could just keep things as is,” he went on. “Maybe work at filling up that sex bingo card.” He smiled, winked at her.
Mercy, it felt good to see that smile after what they’d just been through, and she did like the idea of more sex. But she also knew that it could lead to other things.
Like love.
Well, on her part anyway. Dylan probably wasn’t going to risk a heart-stomping like the last one she’d given him, but Jordan could easily see herself falling in love with him while also falling into his bed.
Before Jordan could even consider how to bring that up to Dylan, the back door opened, and Karlee came out. Mack was right behind her.
“I’m sorry,” Karlee said.
Jordan had no idea why Karlee was apologizing, but it sent her nerves into another tailspin. So did that look on Mack’s face. It certainly wasn’t the defiant expression of denial he’d had earlier.
“Corbin’s my son.” Mack’s voice was a hoarse whisper now. “What I said earlier about him not being mine, I didn’t mean it. It just hit me hard, that’s all. He’s mine,” Mack repeated, louder now.
“I tried to talk Mack out of it,” Karlee added.
“Talk him out of what?” Jordan asked, and yes, her nerves were soaring.
“She tried to talk me out of doing the right thing. Because she doesn’t trust me,” Mack spoke up. “All my life people have seen me as a screwup. A mistake. Well, I’m about to fix that. I won’t make a mistake with Corbin.”
Oh God. Jordan definitely didn’t like the sound of that. “Fix it how?” she managed to say.
“By doing the right thing.” Mack went to Corbin, scooped him up and kissed his cheek. “I’ll be the one to raise my son.”
* * *
DYLAN WENT THROUGH the motions of signing the invoices and time sheets for the ranch, but for all he knew he could have been signing away his soul to the devil. His head just wasn’t on business, though it was something that had to be done. The sooner he finished, the sooner he’d be able to see Corbin and try to come to terms with what had happened.
Of course, he’d had half a day and a full night to wrap his mind around things, and there’d been no coming to terms just yet.
So far what had happened was a lot of whining and attempts at sympathy, and sadly some of the whining had come from him. Others had contributed, though. Dylan had gone through it and heard all the clichés. The rug pulled from beneath his feet. The wind taken out of his sails. His world turned upside down. Pee dumped on his head.
The last one had come from his mom, and it’d been their heads instead of just his. Obviously, Mack’s bombshell had put Regina in a tailspin, too.
And Jordan.
Her clichés had involved words lik
e shit storm, hell in a handbasket. Along with that, she’d cursed Adele for setting up the shit storm/Hades hamper situation. Dylan figured the cursing would continue during her visit with Adele, which should be going on right about now. He’d considered going to the jail with her, but there was nothing left for him to say to Adele except maybe “fuck you,” and that likely wouldn’t help things.
He wasn’t sure anything would help.
Dylan had already gone through the anger stage. For him, that meant liberal use of words that caused his mom to make liberal use of scolding him for using those words. Thankfully, he hadn’t cussed in front of Corbin. Dylan had waited until his mom had taken the boy inside so that he could try to reason with Mack.
It hadn’t worked.
Mack was still hell-bent on taking Corbin for the five years that Adele would be in jail. The same five years that Dylan had hoped to have with him. Of course, he’d hoped for more because Adele had claimed at one time that she wanted him to have permanent custody. Adele’s word on that wasn’t worth a thimbleful of spit.
However, Dylan had gotten a reprieve. A short one anyway. Since Mack was living at the Granger bunkhouse, a place where he couldn’t take Corbin, that meant Mack needed a few days to find not only an apartment or house but also to arrange a sitter for Corbin. Mack probably didn’t earn a boatload of money as a ranch hand so Dylan suspected it’d be Karlee who would end up footing some of the bills. Dylan would offer to help, too, but he doubted Karlee was going to let him do that.
His phone buzzed with a call, but when he saw Lucian’s name on the screen, he let it go to voice mail. Dylan had talked to him a couple of hours ago, and he didn’t want to rehash the argument. Lucian wasn’t apologizing for going behind his back to do the DNA test. Considering the outcome, it’d been the right thing to do, but Lucian had sure gone about it the wrong way. He wanted his brother to stew about that for a while before they talked again.
Dylan signed the last of whatever the hell he was signing, and he went into the kitchen where he’d last seen his mom and Corbin having breakfast. No Regina, but Corbin was there with Karlee having lunch.