he should look to the ceiling for some divine assistance, too. Because that voice belonged to none other than Judge Walter Ray Turley.
Several moments later, the hulking man appeared in the doorway of the sunroom. It would have been impossible to miss him since the judge was built like a sumo wrestler, and his facial expressions were just as intimidating. Thankfully, he wore more clothes, though. Walter Ray didn’t seem to make good use of his champagne budget. He was wearing jeans and a yellow plaid jacket that clashed with his dark red cowboy hat.
There was also that nose.
Walter Ray probably didn’t know that most folks called him dick-nose, and it was a well-earned moniker. It was one of those noses that made you stare and wonder why the heck he hadn’t run to a plastic surgeon.
Dylan’s first reaction was to tell the judge to get lost. Lucian must have known that, too, because he shook his head. Definitely a silent warning. Without saying a word, Lucian lectured him about the fact that Walter Ray was a powerful man in these parts. A powerful man with multiple daughters, two of whom Dylan had seen naked. And one of the daughters had won the sex bingo game. For the sake of business, Dylan decided to hold his tongue.
For as long as he could.
But his fun meter was at zero right now, and the judge had better not do anything to send that meter into the minus setting.
Karlee was right behind the judge, and she was communicating without words, as well. Dylan recognized the silent apology she was giving him. “Corbin and I were waiting for the pizza I ordered,” Karlee said.
In other words, she’d opened the door without realizing it was the judge. That was okay. If Karlee hadn’t answered the door, it was very possible that one of the housekeepers would have. Plus, as riled looking as the judge was, he probably wouldn’t have just left without seeing Dylan.
Karlee had Corbin by the hand, and the boy was munching on an apple slice. Despite the frustration over this visit and Jordan’s demand, Dylan found himself smiling at Corbin.
And Walter Ray noticed, too.
“So, this is your son,” Walter Ray grumbled as he slid glances between Dylan and the boy. Jordan got in on that glance sliding, too.
Karlee must have decided that all the glancing might lead to some things being said that she didn’t want Corbin to overhear so she led the boy out of the sunroom and back toward the kitchen.
“Yes, he’s mine,” Dylan verified.
Dylan didn’t have to guess how the judge had found out about Corbin. Misty had likely told him. He hoped Misty hadn’t told him about stripping naked and sneaking into Dylan’s room. If so, this conversation might go in an R-rated direction.
Walter Ray stared at him a long time as if waiting for Dylan to launch into some kind of lengthy explanation. Maybe about Corbin. Maybe about what’d gone on at the party the night before. Maybe about Misty and her missing panties. Since Dylan knew a couple of those discussions could get him in hot water, he just stared back at the man and stalled to see where this would go.
The return stare didn’t help ease Walter Ray’s intensity, but he did shift the direction of it. He turned back to Jordan. “The boy is your son?” he asked her.
Even though it was a pretty straightforward question, Jordan hesitated. Maybe because she didn’t think it was any of the judge’s business. It wasn’t. But the long pause might also be because she hadn’t finished her conversation with Dylan and the judge was interrupting that.
“Corbin’s mother is Adele,” Dylan provided. “She gave me custody because of some personal issues she’s having.”
Of course, it wouldn’t take the judge long to figure out that personal issues was code for Adele getting arrested. It also didn’t take long for Jordan’s eyes to narrow again, no doubt because Dylan had spelled out that part about him having custody.
“So, Jordan and you aren’t back together,” Walter Ray concluded. His expression lightened up a little so he must have taken it as good news. Sort of. “FYI,” he added to Dylan, “it’s not a good idea for a man to bed his ex-wife’s kin.”
“Hmmp,” Jordan said, and it was a sound of agreement.
Dylan added his own grunt to agree to that. Maybe though, the judge had meant that advice for Jordan and Adele and not his own two daughters. Though Dylan had only bedded one of the Turley sisters, Melanie, if Walter Ray found out about Misty staying the night—naked, no less—then things might take an even-uglier turn than they already had.
“I got your text with your vow of celibacy,” Walter Ray threw out there. Dylan groaned, but the judge just kept on yapping. “It seemed like a good start, but I’m not thinking that so much right now.”
Neither was Dylan. There was nothing good about a drunken vow of celibacy.
Walter Ray turned to Jordan. “Maybe you should step out of the room so Dylan and me can talk. Man-to-man. I know you’ve been through a bunch of bad stuff, and I don’t want you to hear anything that’ll upset you.”
Jordan’s hmmp turned to a groan. She probably didn’t like that bad stuff/man-to-man remark, and she likely didn’t want to leave, either. After all, in her mind she thought they still had to discuss Corbin’s custody, but as far as Dylan was concerned, there was nothing to discuss. It was a done deal.
“Our conversation isn’t over,” she warned Dylan, but at least she headed out of the room.
Dylan heard the front door again, but he seriously doubted that Jordan had just left. No. This was probably the pizza delivery that Karlee and Corbin had been waiting for.
“Did you get the scotch Dylan sent you?” Lucian asked the judge as soon as Jordan was gone.
“Sure did. I’m guessing that’s your way of apologizing?” Walter Ray added, not to Lucian but to Dylan.
Since Dylan didn’t know the scotch had been sent, probably either by Karlee or Lucian, Dylan just nodded.
“Well, I wasn’t gonna accept your apology.” Walter Ray gave his huge belt buckle an adjustment. “But Melanie said you’ve been under a lot of stress. She’s the one who talked me into coming here and patching things up between us.”
That would be good, but no doubt came with strings.
“I’m guessing you’ll be calling Melanie soon to chat to her about the boy you had with Adele,” the judge went on. It wasn’t a question.
Dylan huffed. He didn’t mind smoothing things over for the sake of business, but he wasn’t a doormat. And he wasn’t going to stand here and kowtow to this man.
“I’m not marrying your daughter,” Dylan spelled out to Walter Ray.
Lucian shot him a glare that could have withered a cactus on the spot. It was similar to the glare he’d given Dylan the night before when he’d gotten into it with the judge at the party. Dylan remembered all of that now, but apparently, he hadn’t gotten into it deep enough since it still hadn’t sunk into Walter Ray’s head.
“I’m not going to be roped into marrying
