Dylan: The Sons of Dusty Walker (6 page)

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.”

Literally. He’d knocked into her hard enough, she’d stumbled backward. Thankfully his reflexes kicked in and he grabbed her before she crashed against the display of beef jerky and potato chips. His arms had instinctively hugged her waist tight and she’d leaned upon him, her breath a faint flutter and pupils dilating as she stared at his mouth. Although he’d never hooked up with a woman he’d only known a whole whoppin’ two seconds, a dazzling sense of recognition had settled over him. Not only would he know this stranger intimately before the night was done, she’d have a lasting impact on him the rest of his days.

Fuck, did he hit the nail on the head with that premonition. “You knew who I was.” He didn’t state it as an inquiry. What she was telling him, it left no room for doubt.

“Yes.” Her gaze turned beseeching. “I didn’t seek you out though. I wasn’t some crazy groupie looking to have a one night stand.”

He believed her. God knows he’d been around plenty of those types, he knew how to recognize them. And Zoe definitely hadn’t been—and wasn’t—one. While this new revelation spun in his brain his thoughts kept returning to her earlier admission. “You said you wanted nothing more to do with the music scene. Were you in the biz?”

It would explain why she was now teaching music. He knew a few artists who’d grown weary of the road and found gigs that kept them closer to home.

“No.”

Her adamant denial was a little too fast in coming. He’d bet his inheritance she wasn’t telling him the whole story. Maybe she hadn’t been a musician herself. Didn’t mean she hadn’t been involved with one. The possibility sat like a two-ton elephant on his chest. Yeah, it was caveman of him, but he didn’t like the prospect of Zoe with any lover but him, even if that supposed other man was a ghost of her faraway past. He wanted to ask her more, but he wouldn’t push her. Not yet.

He glanced at Hunter, who was yawning now that his tiny belly was full. “How about we all work this pizza off by taking a walk down by the lake?”

Zoe looked like she was on the verge of arguing, but surprised him by nodding instead. “It’ll be a good way to wake up before I hit the road.”

Damn stubborn woman.
Keeping that thought to himself, he stood and helped her scoot back her chair. Hunter climbed down from her lap and peeked toward the pool.

Zoe playfully tugged the cowlick sticking up from his crown. “Don’t even think about it, Boo Bear. You’re not wearing your swim trunks.”

Dylan scratched his jaw. “Sorry, I shoulda suggested you bring them.” Yep, that World’s Best Dad award was looking slimmer and slimmer.

“It’s okay. You would never have gotten us out of the pool if we did.”

Didn’t sound like a problem to him. In fact, he was enjoying the idea of Zoe and Hunter being around more and more.

That thought kept cycling through his mind during their trip down to the docks. He wanted to spend all the time he could with Hunter. And Zoe. An hour here and there wasn’t gonna cut it.

Hunter pointed to the Wave Runner moored at the dock and Zoe chuckled. “That would be a big fat nope, Little Man.”

A better opening couldn’t have landed in Dylan’s hands. “We’ve got lots of fun toys.” Besides the Jet Ski, there were the boats, the pontoon, and just about every other form of water entertainment you could think of. “We can use any of them we want.” He feigned deep contemplation.
“More I think on it, might make sense to have you stay here so we can avail ourselves of all of this stuff.”

Zoe twitched her nose. “That’s incredibly generous of you, but like I said, I give lessons out of my home. I can’t be making that trip every day.”

If she thought he’d be that easily deterred, she had another think comin’. “Okay, then I can hang out at your place and keep Hunter company while you’re doin’ your lessons.”

Zoe worked her mouth, but no words came out. It was damn tough not hootin’ in victory. Instead he settled for picking up a stone and skipping it across the placid surface of the lake. Hunter jumped up and down before bopping along the bank, presumably searching for his own perfect rock to throw. Zoe crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not saying you don’t have every right to spend time with your son, but you need to know he requires adjusting time.”

He nodded in Hunter’s direction. “Yeah, I can see how he’s having difficulty coping.”

“Damn it, please don’t be glib about this.”

“I’m not, darlin’. I get it.” He scooted closer to her and cupped her cheek. “You’re scared spit-less. So am I. But you have the benefit of knowing what the hell you’re doing when it comes to raising a kid.”

She stared at his lips. The moment felt like it’d been plucked from time. Only instead of standing in a Nashville gas station, they were in Dusty’s backyard. Fucking weird.

Her hand drifted to his ribcage. He wasn’t sure she was even aware of the way her fingertips brushed him through the knit of his T-shirt. He was damn certain she didn’t know the effect she was having on parts of him south of the border. She scored her nails along the ridge of his abs, heading for his navel. “You have to let them know you’re the one in charge.”

It took several beats for him to realize she was talking about child rearing and not something else. Though considering the tantalizing placement of her hand, she definitely coulda been referrin’ to something else. He slid his palm to her nape and followed the delicate arch of her neck. “And what’s the best means of doin’ that?”

“For starters, Hunter shouldn’t be playing unsupervised over there.”