Forever Falcon Ridge (The McLendon Family Saga Book 7)

by D. L. Roan

  “Put your seatbelt on, buddy,” he told Pax when he slid into the driver’s seat of his truck.

  “Is Mommy okay?”

  Clay reached around to the backseat and made sure the belt was fastened before he started the truck. “Yes, sir. She was just trying to get me to show her our secret handshake.” He held up his hand and Paxton grabbed it, going through the motions of their secret shake, ending with a thumb war Pax won.

  “What’d you do?” Paxton asked with a worried look. “You didn’t show her, did you?”

  “No way!” Clay laughed and backed out of the parking space.

  The moon hung bright and high in the sky as he pulled through the ranch gates an hour later, careful to avoid the ruts in the gravel road. Paxton was out cold and he hoped to carry him to bed without waking the poor guy, or anyone else for that matter. After the long day he’d had, all he wanted to do was take a hot shower and hit the sheets.

  He pulled up next to the porch and cut the engine, silently clicking his door closed before he opened Paxton’s and gathered the limp boy into his arms. After a five minute struggle with his keys—thanks to his dad’s newfound need to lock the doors at night—he finally got the door open and Paxton settled in his bed. With a silent sigh of relief, he turned on the nightlight, and pulled the door closed, pausing before it clicked shut to look back at his nephew. If not for one seriously messed up decision, Paxton could have been his.

  Shannon would have gotten pregnant eventually, and they’d have gotten married. For years, he’d considered dodging that fatal bullet a blessing. He’d never thought about having kids before Paxton was born. Truthfully, he hadn’t thought much about settling down period. He’d been so focused on his career in the Air Force, and then getting his business off the ground when that plan crashed and burned. Now he wondered if he was ready for more.

  “Not likely,” he whispered with an incredulous chuckle as he quietly made his way to the bathroom down the hall. He turned on the shower, letting the steam build while he stripped off his boots and clothes and retrieved a fresh towel.

  He was nowhere near ready for those kinds of changes. He’d like to have his own family one day—and he’d be a hell of a lot better father than Jackson, but the business was far from where he wanted it to be. The agricultural industries were only just recently embracing technological advances. He’d worked his ass off pushing those ideas, barely staying solvent. Just because he’d finally reached a point where he had some financial breathing room didn’t mean he could relax yet.

  Clay groaned as he stepped beneath the spray. The hot water sluiced over his skin, soothing his tense muscles. Braced against the wall, he let the heat and steam cleanse his body and clear his head, but it wasn’t long before images of Dani infiltrated his thoughts once again.

  His cock hardened instantly and he fisted his shaft, giving it a long, satisfying stroke.

  Standing on the ladder, Dani looked at him over her shoulder. The promise in her gaze as she descended one seductive step at a time stole his breath. When she reached the bottom rung, she pressed her soft, rounded ass against his cock, eliciting a moan he had no hope of containing.

  “Mmm,” he hummed as the image shifted, his imagination filling in the gaps between memory and fantasy.

  On her knees, she gazed up at him with a cocky grin. Fire raced through his veins as she trailed her fingertips along his shaft, teasing him with a gentle caress before she took him in a firm grip and stroked him from root to tip.

  “Open,” he commanded.

  He cupped her jaw and she parted her lips, holding his gaze as she slowly took him in, wrapping him in the deep, wet heat of her smart little mouth.

  “Oh yeah.” His groan echoed against the shower walls. His sac drew up tight as he thrust into his hand, every muscle in his body burning with the need to come. Stroke after stroke, faster and faster, he clung to the images in his head as he chased his release. The first wave drew him onto the balls of his feet and hit him like a raging bull. “Fuuuuck.” A string of muted curses hissed through his teeth as he strained to keep his voice down.

  Spent and boneless, he rested his forehead against the tile, panting to catch his breath. It had been a while since he’d come that hard. He could only imagine what the real thing would be like. Dani would be the death of him, one way or another, that was for damn sure.

  Replete, mostly satiated, and finally in bed, he reached for his phone. The message icon flashing at the top caught his attention. He still hadn’t listened to Dani’s message. Tempted, he clicked over to his voicemail, but then backed out of it again. He knew whatever she had to say wasn’t going to be pretty. He flipped over to his text messages instead, tapped out, Sleep well, beautiful with a wink emoji, pressed the send button and then turned off his phone. Smiling ear-to-ear, no sooner had his head hit the pillow did his exhaustion win out over his anticipation of her reply.

  Six-and-a-half hours later, Clay was awakened by a swift kick to the groin. “Son of a—” He bit back the curse, and a dozen more, when the little sleeping ninja beside him came into focus. He didn’t even remember Paxton sneaking into bed with him. “Pax,” he groaned and gave the tyke a nudge, but Pax didn’t move. “Scoot,” Clay grumbled and moved him over, but by the time he got comfortable again it was too late. He was wide awake.

  Leaving his nephew to sleep, he rolled over and turned on his phone, smiling when he saw a text message from Dani. He scrubbed a hand over his face and pushed up to lean against the headboard before he opened her one word reply.

  Asshole.

  Clay laughed out loud, shaking his head as he pushed from the bed and made his way to the shower. That was about as speechless as he’d ever known her to be. He would need at least one cup of java in his system before he was prepared to begin his charm offensive on the sassy Ms. McLendon.

  “Mornin’, son,” his pop, Virgil, greeted him from his usual spot at the table when he reached the kitchen.

  “Mornin’.” Clay made a beeline for the coffee pot and filled his usual mug to the brim. “Been a while since you’ve slept past dawn. What’d I miss? Is it Sunday already?”

  “Who said I was sleepin’?” Virgil grumbled around the lip of his coffee cup. “Besides, it’s hard to sleep when you’re up takin’ a leak every fifteen minutes.”

  Clay winced. “Meds again?”

  Virgil shrugged. “One of em’. Damn doctors. Every time I finally get used to one pill they give me somethin’ different.”

  Clay studied his dad. Built cowboy tough, tall and lean with a full head of white hair, Virgil was doing well for a man cresting sixty. His dad would live forever if he could get his blood pressure in check. “Well,” Clay shrugged and gave him a sly grin, “I guess at your age, you should count yourself lucky you can still piss standing up.”

  “Fuck you.” Virgil snarled. “Although, I never thought I’d reach an age where taking a piss felt as good as sex.”

  Clay raised a brow as he sank down into the seat across from his dad, trying not to laugh. “You know, it’s possible you’re not havin’ sex right.”

  Virgil paused mid-sip and glared at him over the rim of his glasses. “That’s a pretty bold statement from a man who’s havin’ more sex with his hand than a woman these days.”

  Clay choked on his coffee, nearly spewing it across the table. “Touché,” he said when he could speak without coughing. “Sorry about that.” Christ. He slouched against the back of his chair. “Long day. Late night.”

  “Mhmm,” Virgil hummed. “I see Jackson’s up to his old tricks again. You picked Paxton up last night?”

  Clay nodded. “Shannon said to tell you she’d be here Monday evenin’ to pick him up. I’m supposed to meet a client up in Wichita tomorrow morning, but I can cancel if you need me here.”

  “Na.” Virgil waved him on. “I raised at least three of my four boys right. Figure I can get through a weekend with my grandson without screwin’ him up too much.”

  “Speak
ing of your fourth son, where’s Beau? I didn’t see his truck in the driveway last night.”

  Virgil downed the last gulp of coffee and rose from the table to wash his cup. “Took a group out huntin’. Don’t expect him back until tomorrow.”

  “That reminds me.” Knowing Virgil would see right through his bullshit, Clay ran a hand through his hair and took an apprehensive pause. “I stopped by Falcon Ridge on my way back to the airport yesterday,” he finally said. “Invited Grey McLendon and his daughter to come down for a tech tour of the ranch in a few weeks. Will it be okay if I set them up in the guesthouse while they’re here?”

  Virgil set his cup in the drying rack, then leaned against the counter, pinning him with a curious stare. “His daughter, huh? Isn’t she a little young?”

  Clay rolled his eyes.

  “What you’re saying is, you want me to keep Grey McLendon distracted while you offer his daughter…what’s her name again?”

  “Dani,” Clay supplied.

  “Dani.” Virgil nodded. “While you offer Dani a more personalized experience.”

  Clay shook his head. He seriously needed to get his own place. Being on the road more days than not, it had seemed like a waste of time and money before now. He eventually wanted to build a home out near the bluff, when and if Virgil ever needed him to take over more of the responsibilities at the ranch, but that wouldn’t help his immediate situation.

  “Good morning,” a raspy, feminine voice said from the doorway.

  Clay turned at the unexpected intrusion and froze, taking a moment to place the familiar middle-aged woman.

  “Excuse me,” Nanette Sommerfield said as she crossed the kitchen. “Mornin’, Clayton.”

  “Uh, good mornin’?” Stunned, Clay looked to his dad for any sign beyond the obvious that would explain why the redheaded vixen, and new owner of the Bulzeye Saloon, would be in their kitchen at such an early hour, barefoot and clad only in one of his dad’s button-down shirts.

  “I’m just going to grab a cup of coffee before I hit the shower and head out,” she murmured in Virgil’s ear and gave him a chaste but lingering kiss.

  Definitely need my own place.

  Clay averted his gaze, raising his fist to his mouth to mask his smirk behind a cough.

  “Give me a second and I’ll join you,” Virgil told her with a wink Clay could have gone the rest of his life without seeing.

  “Just one,” Nanette purred, retrieving her coffee before she padded back to Virgil’s bedroom.

  “You old hound!” Clay said with a hushed chuckle when she was gone. “What is she doing here?”

  Virgil raised a brow. “If you have to ask that, then your dry spell is worse than I thought.”

  “You know what I mean.” Clay shook his head. “When did this happen?” His dad hadn’t exactly been a monk since his mom died, but he’d never brought a woman home before. “Isn’t she a little young?”

  Virgil narrowed his eyes. “Touché,” Virgil said with a telling grin as he crossed the kitchen to follow her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  “Pop, wait. The guesthouse?”

  Virgil shrugged. “Whatever you need, son, as long as Beau doesn’t have a client. But I have to warn you, my wingman skills are a bit rusty.”

  Chapter Eight

  The stalls were clean. The morning feed round at the breeding barn was done. The vet had come and gone after the morning checkup on the broodmare—who hadn’t dropped her foal yet, and the sun was finally rising. That meant Dani had about an hour before the farrier arrived to re-shoe Silver. And then it was out to check the water tanks in the north pasture before they rotated the stock. One of the first things she was going to do this summer was install electronic water level monitors on the most remote tanks. It didn’t take a lot to ride out and check on them, but over months and years it would save a ton of time.

  Sitting on the front porch steps, sipping an iced tea, she peered over at the family stock barn where her office was. Those files weren’t going to sort themselves, but dammed if she didn’t wish they could. The second she set foot inside that barn, she’d lose every ounce of concentration she had left.

  She’d tried all night to shake the memories of Clay Sterling and his damn dimples. His scent still lingered on her shirt when she’d tossed her laundry in the wash that morning, throwing in an extra cup of detergent for good measure. Good riddance.

  Her phone vibrated and she picked it from her back pocket, spitting a curse through gritted teeth when she saw the text from Clay.

  Mornin’, sunshine, with a smiling emoji, was written over a beautiful photo of the rising desert sun.

  For a split second, she wondered if it was a stock photo he’d copied from the internet, or one he’d taken himself.

  “It doesn’t matter. He’s an ass,” she reminded herself.

  She’d told him exactly what she thought of him in the message she’d left the night before. Coward wouldn’t even answer his phone. She’d go to Texas with Grey all right, because she had no choice, but he was delusional if he thought she was going on a date with him. Beside the fact Grey would kill him if he caught them... “Hmm, that’s not such a bad idea.”

  Her phone vibrated again.

  Clay: I was thinking about you this morning.

  “That’s it.” If she saw that name on her phone one more time she’d scream. She clicked over to her settings to fix that little problem, then thumbed in a quick reply.

  Dani: Hey, asshole. They have stalking laws for a reason. And FYI: I don’t date liars. Stop texting me or I’m going to report you.

  “Let him explain that one to Grey.”

  “Explain what to Grey?” Matt asked beside her.

  Dani startled, flipping her phone over so her dad couldn’t see who she was texting. “Nothing. I was just texting the farrier to see if he was going to be on time.”

  Matt glanced between her and the phone, and then nodded toward the barn. “Want some company ridin’ the north tract? Looks like someone did all my mornin’ chores, so I have a bit of extra time on my hands.”

  Dani’s phone buzzed again. Then again.

  “Sure.” She nodded. “I’ll be ready to ride out as soon as the farrier gets done with Silver.”

  Matt glanced at her phone as it buzzed a third time, then shoved his hat onto his head. “Cool. I’ll go start tackin’ up my horse.”

  Dani waited until he was almost off the porch before she picked up her phone and clicked over to read Clay’s response.

  Asshat: Now be fair. You know I didn’t lie.

  Asshat: Isn’t my fault you made a deal without all the facts.

  Asshat: C’mon. Be a good sport and admit it. You think my tractor’s sexy.

  A selfie followed of him standing in the front bucket of an old tractor, his shirt unbuttoned, revealing well-defined abs and those v-cut indents above his lean hips that make smart girls stupid.

  Dani clicked out of the message, her cheeks flaming, grinning like an idiot despite her determination not to.

  “Yep. He’s an asshat.” She grabbed her hat and pushed to her feet, shoving her phone into her back pocket on her way to the barn.

  His messages never stopped. Throughout the morning, he sent her photo after photo, most landscapes of his family’s ranch, some with wildflowers asking if she had a favorite color. When she didn’t respond, he sent one with a gnarly looking bull he was trying to coax into a chute.

  Asshat: Long-lost cousin, maybe?

  Asshat: He’s as stubborn as you.

  Asshat: My brother, Levi, could run a DNA test if you want.

  “You’ve been lookin’ at that phone all mornin’,” Matt said as he guided his horse closer to hers. “Who you talkin’ to?”

  Dani jammed her phone back into her back pocket. “Nobody. Just looking at pictures.”

  The corner of Matt’s mouth quirked up. “You suck at lyin’ darlin,” he said with a chuckle. “Always have. Now spill it. Who is it? A guy?”
r />   Dani rolled her eyes. “I thought you didn’t want to know if I’m dating or…whatever.”

  Matt’s brows dipped into a V. “What? Who said that? Grey?”

  “Mason,” she said.

  Matt scoffed. “Mason may not want to know, but he sure as hell wasn’t speakin’ for me.” He slowed his horse, guiding it around an old tree stump, and then trotted back over beside her. “I’m gonna tell you what I told Jonah. I don’t want the details, but I’d like to know more about someone if they’re important to you.”

  Dani snickered. Yeah Right. Matt had always been Grey-lite when it came to being overprotective, but she didn’t believe for a minute he wouldn’t lose his shit the second he knew who was texting her. And it wasn’t as if she was lying by not telling him. Clay was definitely not important.

  “I’m not dating anyone,” she insisted.

  “Okay,” Matt said in surrender, “but whoever it is, I like the smile they’re puttin’ on your face.”

  Later that evening, after managing to make it through dinner without fighting with Grey or her brothers, or looking at her phone, Clay texted her again, this time a picture of the moon sitting above his ranch’s crested gate with the message, Thinking about you.

  Frustrated, she dropped her phone onto the mattress, pulled a pillow over her face, and screamed. She’d tried all day to ignore him. Why was he still texting her? She hadn’t replied to a single one. For all he knew, she’d blocked him. The question was, why hadn’t she?

  Her phone beeped with another incoming text and she flipped over to read it.

  Asshat: I must be off my game.

  Asshat: Fair Warning. Turning up the charm tomorrow.

  Asshat: Goodnight, beautiful.

  Knowing she shouldn’t, Dani stretched out across her bed and started typing.

  Dani: Don’t worry. Performance issues are common for men your age.

  The second she pressed send, regret set like a rock in her stomach. “Why did I do that?” Just because he was an ass, didn’t mean she had to be one. She shouldn’t have replied at all. She banged her phone against her forehead, squinting against the self-inflicted pain. Why didn’t text messages have a recall option?