not to even attempt a number on that.
Lucian stepped forward, obviously ready to intervene, but Dylan held up his hand to silence him so he could finish having this out with Walter Ray. “I made it clear to Melanie that being with her wasn’t a commitment. She knows that, and now I’m making sure you know it, too.”
Walter Ray’s glare topped Lucian’s, something that Dylan hadn’t thought possible. “You toyed with my girl’s feelings. She’s in love with you.”
Dylan had indeed done some toying, but he doubted she was in love with him. Melanie was more sensible than her dad and had likely mentioned the l-word when Walter Ray had discovered the bingo card. Still, he needed to have an air clearing and smoothing over with Melanie in case there was an outside chance that she had indeed been hurt.
But all of this was a “big can of whip-ass” revelation for Dylan.
He’d made that celibacy vow when he was drunk, but it was a stellar idea, and it could be the first step toward moving on to the next stage of his life. Too bad it’d come so soon after seeing Jordan. Or rather, remembering Jordan.
There was hardly a day that’d gone by over the past fourteen years that he hadn’t thought about her, but he’d always been able to push those old flames aside. It was hard to do that now with her just a few rooms away. Maybe though, he could regain his footing and rein in his bedtime memories once she was on her way. Then, he could get on with his new path to celibacy without any temptations from the past.
Walter Ray leaned in closer, and the man violated a whole bunch of Dylan’s personal space. “You don’t want me on your bad side.”
“No, I don’t,” Dylan assured him. “But I’m not marrying your daughter for the sake of keeping peace between us. I’m a father now, and I need to focus on my son.”
Even though it was logic that Dylan thought a father could understand, that argument didn’t seem to appease Walter Ray one little bit. The man looked at Lucian as if he expected him to scold Dylan. Thankfully, Lucian didn’t do that. Not with words anyway, but Dylan suspected they’d have it out later. Because this could indeed affect business. Even if it did, though, Dylan wouldn’t be Lucian’s doormat, either.
“You better hope you don’t need any favors from me,” Walter Ray warned Dylan. He extended his glare to Lucian, too.
Lucian moved to Dylan’s side. “And you’d better hope you don’t need any favors from us.” That was the tone that had earned Lucian the nickname of Lucifer.
The staring match started—a game of eyeball chicken—and it didn’t surprise Dylan when Walter Ray was the first one to look away. Lucian’s venom wasn’t something that anybody wanted to dick around with because Lucian could be, well, a dick, and his bad side could be a whole lot worse than all the collective bad sides in town.
“My beef’s not with you,” Walter Ray grumbled to Lucian after he’d lost the eyeball-chicken match.
“If it’s with my brother, then it’s with me,” Lucian assured him. “You can show yourself out.”
Dylan didn’t know who was more surprised—him or Walter Ray. His guess was Walter Ray, because the man’s face turned red. He looked like an inflamed testicle, and it didn’t go well with the dick-shaped nose.
Walter Ray stood there several more long moments, volleying his glare, getting redder and sputtering out some ripe profanity until he finally turned and left. He made his size known with his clomping footsteps. And then he slammed the front door.
“You fuck this up, and I’ll smother you in your sleep,” Lucian snarled to Dylan as he walked out.
Ah, there was Lucifer again, who’d stepped up to dissolve the caring brother. And Dylan didn’t get a chance to ask him what would cause that potential smothering. Hurting the family business or messing up things with Corbin. The first was a huge possibility now that they were on the outs with Walter Ray, but Dylan thought he could still do all right by Corbin.
Of course, 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
