Dylan: The Sons of Dusty Walker

by Redford, Jodi

Hm, and who does that remind you of? He shook Georgianna’s phantom sing-songy-told-ya-so voice from his head. This was nothing like his and Dusty’s situation. More than likely his dad’s monetary support had been fueled by guilt. That wasn’t the case with Dylan. He wanted to do right by Hunter, and make up for all those years they’d missed. Starting tonight. Clearing his throat, he slid Marliss a worried look. “You, uh, wouldn’t happen to know what a three-year-old prefers to eat, would ya?”

  She frowned. Not unexpected, given the question. “Well, depends. Sometimes they can be picky. And you also have to take food allergies into consideration.”

  Aw shit. He shoulda asked Zoe about that. I’m a fucking horrible father. Sick inside at his utter ineptitude to get even this tiny aspect of parenting right, he dug his cellphone from his pocket and scrolled through his contact list until Zoe’s number was highlighted in the text window. He typed in a quick message asking for her and Hunter’s meal request. From now on he wouldn’t even attempt to wing it.

  A few seconds later her response popped up on the screen. Hunter loves pizza, and I do too. If it will make things easier, I can stop and grab one at Tivoli’s on the way over.

  Damn. No, he was supposed to be the one doing the work here. Do they deliver?

  She replied back almost instantly. Why pay the extra charge? I’ll be driving right by there.

  He wouldn’t be swayed by logic. Screw that noise. Maybe I wanna support the local economy.

  Her speedy comeback pinged a second later. I’ll leave extra in their tip jar.

  He gritted his teeth. I’m reimbursing you the money. All of it.

  Her final message took longer hitting his inbox. Fine, you stubborn jackass.

  Grinning, he pumped his fist in victory.

  “I take it you got the answer you needed?”

  He lifted his gaze to Marliss. “Yep. I’ll have a couple guests joining me tonight. We’re havin’ pizza.”

  Marliss nodded. “Always a good choice.” There was no mistaking the curiosity in her eyes. “Nice to see you’re already making some local friends. At least, I’m assuming that’s the case.”

  He recognized a blatant dig for information when he saw one. Didn’t bother him though. He liked Marliss, and considering the fact she was looking after him this week—and even made him his favorite drink—he didn’t mind providing the details. “Yup, but Zoe and I kinda go back a ways. So we’re not exactly strangers.” That was putting it lightly. He knew every intimate detail of her anatomy. He just hoped she’d give him the chance to discover even more about her. And not only the sexy stuff. Though he was certainly in favor of that too.

  Marliss rolled the mint in a paper towel, soaking up the remaining moisture. “Are you referrin’ to Zoe Chapman?”

  He shouldn’t have been surprised Marliss knew who she was. Red Creek being as small as it was, everyone was bound to be on a first name basis with each other. He also hadn’t considered the opportunity small town living provided. He could do a little digging of his own. “Yes, ma’am. Are you acquainted with Zoe?”

  Marliss chuckled, confirming his suspicions. “No such thing as a stranger in Red Creek.” Stroking her chin, she raked him with her thoughtful gaze. “I can see you two together. What with the musical connection and all.”

  He blinked. “Musical connection?”

  “She teaches chorale at the elementary school. Also does private lessons. Lord knows she’s the only reason Cubby’s little June Bug can carry a note without causing a howling dog uproar within a twenty-mile radius. Bless that poor tone-deaf child’s heart.”

  Dylan absorbed the shocking information Marliss had given him. Not so much the part about tone-deaf June Bug. While he was sure that was important news for Cubby and the Red Creekian canines, it was of little consequence to Dylan. Learning Zoe was a music teacher, though? Now that was a doozy. Particularly since she’d professed to have little interest in music, whatsoever. He remembered the conversation like it was yesterday. Probably because it’d involved her lying naked on top of him. Memories of her nude, coming, smiling, talking, or pretty much merely breathing within his vicinity tended to adhere to his brain matter like Gorilla Glue. He’d curled one of her long tresses around his fingertip and mentioned something about writing a song that’d commemorate the color of her hair. She’d laughed at that, and then informed him that she wasn’t a natural blonde. He’d busted her on that fib by pointing out that the carpet matched the drapes. So unless she dyed downstairs too, she’d have to live with him writing that song. To which she’d stunned him and broken his heart by admitting she didn’t give a donkey’s behind for music.

  He’d been at a rare loss for words, the concept of someone not enjoying music more unnatural and disturbing to him than Miracle Whip salad dressing. Eventually she’d soothed his damaged psyche by sliding her pussy over the head of his cock, blowing his mind in an entirely different manner. By the time she’d bottomed out on him, everything had been forgiven. Hell, he’d been lucky to hold a damn thought in his head.

  But now his mind was right back to that place of utter befuddlement.

  Why had she lied to him? Unlike her flip remark about not being a blonde, she’d seemed so bored when the subject of music came up. She’d given him zero reason to suspect she was being untruthful.

  Well, one thing was certain, he’d get to the bottom of this mystery before the night was done.

  Reminded that Zoe and Hunter would shortly be on their way with the pizza, he dragged a hand across his jaw, wincing at the overgrowth of stubble. If he didn’t do something about that, he’d get mistaken for a mangy coyote soon. “I’m gonna grab a quick shower before they get here.”

  Leaving Marliss to finish fussing with her mojito makings, he jogged upstairs to his ensuite bathroom. He performed the quickest shower and shave in history and pulled on a fresh pair of Wranglers and the nicest rocker cowboy shirt he owned. After slapping on some aftershave lotion, he ran a comb through his hair and deemed himself presentable as he would get.

  Nerves bouncing like they were performing a crazy Mexican Hat Dance, he headed downstairs. He paused in the entry. Should he hang out by the front door? No, that’d appear too anxious. He could turn on the TV in the great room though. Act like he was absorbed with a movie or something.

  Studiously ignoring the photos of Dusty and Theresa, he grabbed the remote and clicked the tube on. The overly-loud voice of a news anchor boomed from the surround sound speakers. He lowered the volume several decibels and stretched out in the leather club chair, propping his boots on the adjacent ottoman. Despite his best intentions, his focus drifted to one of the portraits sitting on the built-in shelves across from him. Judging from Dusty and Theresa’s fancy duds, they were at some highfalutin shindig. Charity event? Could be. Regardless, his dad looked uncomfortable as shit in his starched shirt and navy suit. He had his arm around Theresa’s shoulder, but the gesture almost appeared strained.

  Dylan had heard the rumors about the tension in their marriage, and he’d figured his dad deserved what he got. Dusty couldn’t have his cake and eat it too. But the longer Dylan stared at that picture, the more uncomfortable it made him. Like he was seeing past the facade of two people putting on their own performance for the camera lens. Dusty looked tired. Weary. As if the weight of the world was resting on his shoulders, and he didn’t know how to ease up the burden.

  A deep pang pinched Dylan’s heart. He sucked in a breath. Stop it. Stop it right fucking now. He couldn’t think about Dusty. There was enough of Dylan’s past sitting on his plate at the moment. In fact, two incredibly important pieces were on their way to see him. That’s what he needed to focus on. Because shit knows it was gonna take every ounce of his attention.

  The doorbell rang, and his pulse jumped like it’d been kick-started.

  “I’ll get it, Mr. Walker,” Marliss hollered from the kitchen.

  It still felt weird having the woman address him that way. He wasn’t used to the forma
lity, especially since it was common practice for his band members to call each other endearing pet names, like Buttweiser and Anheuser-Ballsack, depending on their beer of choice.

  “No, I’m right here anyway.” He bolted from the chair before Marliss could beat him to the door. Yeah, arriving at the entrance wheezing from his sprint didn’t exactly maintain his image of not being anxious. But fuck it. He cracked open the door, his breath snaring in his throat for an entirely different reason than his mad dash across the room as he gaped at Zoe. Hot damn, she was the most beautiful woman on God’s green earth.

  Much as he’d loved her snug yoga pants, the buttercup yellow sundress she’d exchanged them for made her look like a cotton candy-dipped ray of sunshine. Who knows how long he stared at her? Obviously several beats beyond appropriate because Marliss coughed pointedly from somewhere behind him.

  “Mr. Walker, I reckon that pizza has to be hot.”

  Snapping to his senses, he finally noticed the flat cardboard box resting in Zoe’s hands. Smothering a curse at his own bone-headedness, he relieved her of the package. “Come on in.”

  He led the way inside, keeping his pace leisurely so that he could hang close to Zoe and Hunter as they took in their surroundings. He’d expected Hunter to be shy or wildly rambunctious, similar to how he’d behaved at the pharmacy. The little boy did seem uncertain of how he was supposed to act. Every once in a while Zoe would stroke the top of Hunter’s head, which did the trick of putting him at ease. Dylan could see why. Hell, if Zoe insisted on petting him like that he’d curl up in her lap, happier than a puppy dog.

  They reached the kitchen and Marliss took the pizza box from Dylan. “Where would y’all like to eat? Dining room? Or it’s a gorgeous evening out now it’s cooled off. I could light the candles on the patio.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to go to the trouble.” One glance at Zoe’s face confirmed the trouble she was most worried about was the romantic kind. Apparently candles crossed the line.

  Marliss waved off Zoe’s concern. “Don’t be silly. Y’all get yourselves situated and I’ll be out in a sec.” She turned her back on Zoe and winked at Dylan before shuffling toward the cupboards.

  Making a mental note to suggest a raise for Marliss and Lou to his brothers, Dylan escorted Hunter and his mama outside. Truthfully, he hadn’t much thought of what would happen to Dusty’s housekeeper and cook now that his dad was gone. Marliss and Lou were well provided for according to Dusty’s will. As they should be. But other than that, he had no idea what their plans were after the end of the month.

  Shit, he didn’t know what his plans were after the end of his week. Originally he’d intended to hustle his ass to Nashville and get back in Luke’s good graces in time for their gig in Memphis. But that was before he’d discovered he was a dad. Getting everything straightened out with Zoe and making Hunter a priority in his life, well, they both took precedence over anything else. Now he just had to convince Zoe of that.

  She tucked her hair behind her ear and surveyed their surroundings. “Oh wow. This is pretty.”

  Not nearly as much as you. Wisely deciding to keep that thought to himself while she was still freaked out about the candles, he nodded dumbly. The patio—if you could call it that—was a luxurious oasis consisting of the pool area, cabana, and outdoor kitchen. Other than the lake, it was his favorite feature of the house. He led them to the table and held out a chair for Zoe and Hunter. Rather than take the extra seat, Hunter crawled into Zoe’s lap and stuck his thumb in his mouth while he stared Dylan down.

  This ain’t awkward at all. Not about to be cowed by his own son, Dylan propped the toe of one boot atop the other and pulled the goofiest face he could conjure. A giggle broke around Hunter’s thumb. Holy shit, knowing he’d just made his kid laugh? That was some powerful shit right there. Drunk on the I’m-the-world’s-awesomest-dad rush, he made several more faces, earning a series of hysterical giggles from Hunter and the side eye from Zoe. He didn’t even care if she thought he was a moron. Absolutely worth it.

  She rolled her lips together, fighting a smile. “Okay, enough. Much more of that and you’ll make him pee. Trust me, I won’t be amused if that happens.”

  He dutifully sobered up. Marliss appeared, bearing the pizza box and a pitcher of libations. He automatically jumped up to assist her with her load but she shooed him away and effortlessly settled everything down on the table. She left them for a moment to grab plates, napkins, and glasses from the wet bar beneath the pergola. The efficiency with which she moved boggled his mind. This was definitely not the sixty-something-year-old woman who’d been complaining about her knees this morning. Made him wonder what was in that prescription he’d left on the counter for her. After lighting the candles, she left them to their lonesome.

  Not that he was complaining. He was too mesmerized by the way the candlelight created a halo around Zoe’s face to pay much attention to Marliss’s absence. Zoe tested the temperature of one of the pizza slices before sliding it onto a plate for Hunter. Dylan grunted at his boy’s obvious enjoyment of his meal. “Damn, looks like he’s into eating as much as his old man is.”

  A grin tugging at her lips, Zoe ruffled Hunter’s hair. “He’s a bottomless pit.”

  “Yep, sounds like me.”

  She gave him a considering look. “Now you mention it, I do recall how you pigged down three waffles at that diner on the way to the airport.”

  “Needed my sustenance, since someone drained all my energy the night before.”

  The candlelight turned Zoe’s blush into a gorgeous rosy glow. “Now isn’t the time to talk about that.”

  He glanced at Hunter, who appeared to be deeply committed to his pizza slice. “I wouldn’t say anything dirty in front of him.”

  “I know you wouldn’t.”

  Then what the hell had she been referring to? He eyed her more intently, cataloging the smattering of goose pimples across her arms. It was too damn warm out here for her to be cold. And if he wasn’t mistaken, that was definitely a flush riding toward her mouthwatering cleavage. The last time he’d witnessed that particular color in that particular area she’d been squirming in his lap in the backseat of her car, rubbing shamelessly against the hand he had buried in her panties.

  She was fucking turned on remembering all of the sinful things she did with him that night and the next day. No question about it.

  The knowledge fired a heat wave through him, along with a serious case of guilt. Here he was having some raunchy thoughts about Zoe in front of their son—probably that’d disqualify him from Dad of the Year now.

  Zoe picked up her glass and took a healthy sip. She licked her lips, the delicate sweep of her tongue stirring up another wave of wicked musings that stiffened his cock against his fly. Tapping the rim of her glass with one pink fingernail, she glanced at him. “This is delicious.”

  “It’s a mojito. Marliss made them special.”

  “Mm, that’s right. They’re your favorite.”

  He stalled in the process of grabbing a slice of pizza. “How did you know that?”

  “You told me.”

  They’d talked about a fair amount of things on the rest breaks during their sexual Olympics. His recently acquired taste for mojitos sure hadn’t been on the topic list. Which meant that Marliss wasn’t the only female in his life guilty of keeping tabs on him online. Interesting.

  Not the least bit perturbed that his grin was undoubtedly obnoxious as all get out, he lifted his pizza and munched on a bite. They remained wrapped in quiet while they ate their meal, but the moment Zoe pushed her plate back he topped off her glass with more of the mojito mix. She shook her head. “If I have any more I’ll never be able to drive home.”

  “So don’t.”

  She offered him a hard squint. “Getting me drunk won’t lure me into your bed.”

  “That’s not what I was suggestin’. There are plenty of extra rooms in the house.” He couldn’t resist teasing her with his best smoky stare
. “Then again, mine does have the comfiest bed, Goldilocks.”

  She pretended an absorbed interest with the stem of her glass. “It’s getting late. Hunter and I should probably get going.”

  “It’s barely six.”

  “I have a lesson I’m giving early in the morning.”

  The reminder of her livelihood reeled his mind away from erotic delights. He crumpled his napkin and tossed it on the table. “Glad you brought that up. Was meaning to ask why you lied to me.”

  She jerked her gaze back up to his. “W-what?”

  Obviously she hadn’t been expecting him to call her out on it. Good. Then maybe she wouldn’t have as smooth of a recovery and make up another bullshit story. “You said you had no interest in music. Funny how you’re teaching it.”

  She blinked. “When did I say that?”

  So she still wanted to play games. “Same time you told me you weren’t a natural blonde and I proved you wrong by—”

  She held up her hand. “All right, I remember now. The hair color was me being silly, since I thought you were going to launch into a bunch of dumb blonde jokes. Which I hate, by the way.”

  “Still waiting on an explanation about the other thing.”

  Shifting Hunter in her lap, she sent Dylan a pleading look. “Could we please not get into this? It’s really not a big deal.”

  “Nuh huh. I wanna know why you felt the need to lie about it.”

  “I didn’t.” An unrecognizable emotion flashed in her eyes. In that brief second a heavy vulnerability descended on her. Every instinct inside him clamored to tug her into his arms and protect her from whatever worries haunted her. But he suspected she wouldn’t welcome his comfort right then. She bounced Hunter on her knee, her agitation evident. “I know you won’t believe me, but that’s the truth. At the time, I was going through an unbearably rough patch in my life. I wanted nothing to do with the music scene.”

  It was his turn to blink. “Then what the hell possessed you to get involved with me?”

  “I didn’t intend for it to happen. But when you walked into the gas station...I couldn’t move. I couldn’t believe you were right there in front of me. So close, I could touch you.” She bit the corner of her lip and traced the flower pattern on her place mat. “You were looking at your phone, and didn’t notice me. The next instant, our worlds collided.”