Lone Star Blues. Delores Fossen
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.”
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,