Dylan: The Sons of Dusty Walker (8 page)

CHAPTER SIX

Zoe’s cellphone vibrated in her shorts’ pocket midway through Mandy Sweeny running through her vocal chords warm up. She waited for the thirteen-year-old to finish her practice and the first couple of songs before announcing a break. Leaving the girl to enjoy her two minutes of texting free time, Zoe scanned her own inbox. The recent message was from Dylan.
I’m taking off early from work. Benefit of being the boss. What’s your address?

She hesitated before punching in the directions with trembling fingers. It was ridiculous to be this nervous. For Pete’s sake, after their initial run in yesterday morning, seeing him again should be a walk in the park.

Only now she had the recent memory of his kiss tormenting her brain. The chemistry between them hadn’t lessened with time. If anything, it was stronger than ever. If she wasn’t careful she’d be right back where she started from. Letting him kiss the daylights out of her and then feeling her up in the backseat of a car. That’d of course lead to them ripping each other’s clothes off and tumbling into bed, a naked, sweaty tangle of limbs.

She couldn’t let that happen. No matter how much she ached to feel his mouth sliding over her breasts, teasing her nipples into hard peaks before wandering down her belly, and lower still to her pussy. She didn’t have many lovers to base Dylan’s talent in the oral department, but even so it was probably safe to say he was a maestro when it came to pleasuring any part of her body. A quiver shot between her legs in testimony of that memory.

This is what she got for abstaining from sex for too long. Granted, she didn’t have a ton of opportunities. In addition to most men hitting the road once they found out she had a kid, the pickings were also slim in Red Creek. Plus she didn’t want to develop a reputation of sleeping around. A woman in her position had to be careful. That’s why she rarely kicked up her heels in any of the hot spots in town. Ha! If you could call them that. Hottest thing you got around these parts was the coffee at Cubby’s.

Releasing a weary breath, she pocketed her phone and finished her session with Mandy. The girl fished out her Ipod and looked at Zoe with blatant pleading. Plenty used to her student’s persuasive skills, Zoe laughed. “Fine, you get one duet. Which song?”

“Honkytonk First Date.”

Zoe killed her groan. Oh Lord. She would have to pick that one. She narrowed her eyes at the girl. “Did Callie put you up to this?”

Her expression perplexed, Mandy shook her head vigorously enough to send her braids flying. Satisfied she was telling the truth, Zoe accepted the Ipod and synched it with the Bluetooth speakers. The guitar intro wailed through the sound system. She shivered, imagining Dylan’s fingers racing with lightning speed over the strings, working the same magic with those chords as he’d devastated her body with. She was so wrapped up in the moment she nearly missed her opening lyric. Quickly catching herself, she belted out the line, trying not to giggle along with Mandy when she got to the part about the goat ruining the couple’s attempt of a kiss in the petting farm. The song was the silliest thing in creation, you couldn’t help but laugh. The chorus kicked in and Mandy’s flawless soprano nailed the delivery. Beaming at Zoe’s thumbs- up, the girl lifted her fist to her mouth and shimmied to the left. Her eyes suddenly doubled in size and she screamed.

Jolting in response, Zoe swung around to see what had scared the bejeebers out of the girl. Dylan stood in the doorway, looking just as concerned as Zoe.

“Y-you’re...
Dylan Walker
!” Mandy’s shrill voice hit several octaves above glass-breaking on Dylan’s name.

Okay, that explained the scream. He probably dealt with that sort of thing on a regular basis. Sending him an apologetic glance, she leaned over the hood of the piano and turned the Ipod off. Mandy snatched the device and barreled toward Dylan. Zoe had to give him credit for not bolting in the other direction.

Mandy slammed to a halt in front of him. “Can I have your autograph?”

“Sure. You got somethin’ for me to write on?”

The girl held out her arm. Well, it could have been worse. Give it a couple more years, and it likely would be. Taking pity on Dylan’s obvious discomfort, Zoe grabbed one of her Xeroxed music sheets and a pen and handed both to him. His smile melting her insides, he leaned over the console table near the door and scribbled his name on the blank side of the paper before he passed it to Mandy. The teen held the autograph to her chest like it was one of the Lost Scrolls.

A car horn honked from the vicinity of the driveway, announcing the arrival of Mandy’s mom. The girl never removed her gaze from Dylan. “I’ve gotta go.” Her solemn voice conveyed precisely how little she loved that unfortunate necessity. He nodded, and Mandy stumbled out the door, almost running into the porch post since she refused to unglue her stare from Dylan. Somehow she made it down the steps without breaking something vital.

The instant Mandy and her mom rolled out of the drive, Zoe shook her head and chuckled. “I’m so sorry about that.”

Dylan grinned. “Don’t worry about it.” His sparkling gaze swept her in a lazy glide and his expression turned downright smoky. “You look good enough to eat.”

Oh God. He would have to use that particular term. Dangerous, considering her raunchy thoughts earlier. “Thank you.” Suddenly acutely conscious of the fact that her tank top did a piss poor job of concealing the perky status of her nipples, she cleared her throat and covertly crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re looking well yourself.” Wow, could she possibly have sounded more stilted and lame?

Without warning, he reached out and fingered a strand of her hair. “I keep meanin’ to ask when you got these.”

It took forever to concentrate on anything other than the nearness of his face. Particularly that mouth she couldn’t get out of her head. If she stood on her tiptoes she could press her lips to his. Bad idea. And yet, oh so tempting. “You mean the pink streaks?”

“Yeah.” He trailed his finger lower, following the curve of her jawline.

She swallowed hard, praying he wouldn’t notice how his touch made her flush from the inside out. “Callie did them. She’s a stylist, and I sometimes let her use me as a guinea pig.”

“Hm, I like it. Suits you.” His focus dipped to her mouth before cruising upward to lock with her stare. The intense pull punched her equilibrium out of balance. His hand reversed course and slid to her nape. Even the simplest stroke of his fingertips threatened to liquefy her insides.

Feeling as if she was being drawn in by a magnet, she leaned into him.

“Told ya he was here!”

The sound of Callie’s bubbly shout acted better than a bucket of ice water sloshed over Zoe’s head. She quickly scooted back in time to watch her best friend race into the room two steps behind Hunter. The excitement lighting up Hunter’s face made up for having to endure Callie’s knowing smirk. Still, she had mixed feelings about her son’s growing attachment to Dylan. On the one hand it filled her heart with a special joy seeing the bond beginning to grow between them. But that also meant it would hurt Hunter so much harder if Dylan vanished from the picture.

And what were the odds that it wouldn’t happen? Sure, he’d promised he wasn’t going anywhere. But words were one thing. Actions always told another story.

His little legs pumping like pistons, Hunter ran across the room. Dylan dropped onto his haunches and their son slammed to a halt a foot away from them, suddenly shy. Completely unruffled by his son’s one-eighty in attitude, Dylan held his hand out for a fist bump. A giggle breaking from him, Hunter complied with the request with enough enthusiasm, it was a miracle he didn’t flatten Dylan on his ass.

Smothering her smile behind her hand, Zoe glanced at Callie and noticed she was also grinning like a goofball. Steadying himself with a hand propped against the console table, Dylan rifled his fingers through Hunter’s hair, leaving it an even wilder mess. Dylan lifted his gaze to hers, the sheer happiness shining on his face just as capable of knocking her off balance as their son’s powerhouse fist bump. Butterflies pirouetted in her tummy. Oh man, she was neck-deep in trouble here.

Where were lockable chastity panties when you needed them? Hell, maybe that wouldn’t even be enough to keep her safe when it came to Dylan. Her brain kept telling her one thing—there was no sustainable future for them—but her heart and her body refused to listen. 

Forcing herself to look away from that beckoning enticement in his eyes, she turned a pleading stare on Callie. “Did you want to join us for ice cream?”

“Sorry, gotta pick up Josh before my mom buys him a pony or something else that will cost me an arm and leg to shelter and feed.”

Well damn, that pretty much left no room for argument. Having narrowly escaped her own mom trying to sweet talk her into letting Hunter have a Great Dane puppy, she knew the inherent danger in overextending grandparent visitation. “Give Josh and Louisa a hug from me.”

“Will do.” After collecting her own hugs for the road, Callie strolled to her minivan.

Dylan leaned in the doorway, looking too delicious for words. “I take it Callie’s a single mom too?”

“Yep. It’s a big part of why we clicked right away when I moved here. She’s a war widow, so her situation is certainly more tragic than mine. But she’s one of the strongest women I’ve ever known.”

“Sounds like you’re lucky to have met each other.”

“I am lucky.” Hunter, Callie, and her other good friends Rori, Lexie, and Kit had been her anchors in the storm the last three years. She didn’t know what she would have done without them.

Dylan scratched the back of his head. “For some reason I assumed you grew up here. Guess that’s not the case.”

She cringed, as always happened when her past crept into the picture. It was the last thing she wanted to get into with Dylan. “No, I moved here a few months after I had Hunter.” She remembered that trying, terrifying time well.

Scared, uncertain, and feeling more alone than she could ever remember, she’d packed up her meager belongings the minute her lease was up on her tiny cubbyhole of an apartment in Atlanta. Her mom had called her crazy for moving to a strange place with an infant, and no nearby support system to speak of. She’d accused Zoe of being bullheaded and self-centered like her father. For the first couple of months she’d constantly questioned whether her mom was right, at least about the bullheaded part. And true to form, she’d stubbornly held on, determined to prove that she could do it on her own. It hadn’t been easy, but she didn’t regret her choice to start a life for her and Hunter in Red Creek. The community had welcomed them as one of their own, and this place had become their home.

Dylan’s gaze softened. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for Hunter. For you.”

His confession brought her thoughts cycling back to their conversation at the lake. For that brief moment she’d flashed back to her childhood, to the constant disappointment of a father who couldn’t get his shit together long enough to
be
a father. She fully acknowledged that her daddy issues made it difficult for her to trust that Dylan would be different. That she and Hunter wouldn’t be superseded by his love of the stage and the limelight of adoring fans. But she wanted to believe his commitment to them would be stronger. With everything inside her, she wanted to believe it.

Tamping down the fear that ate away at her faith in him, she offered a wavering smile and took the first step at letting him past her defenses. “You’re here now. And that’s all that matters.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Zoe took one look at the sizable queue forming in front of the Dairy Freeze and rethought the wisdom of suggesting the place to Dylan. She should have known better. The ice cream shop was the prime hang out spot for the kids during summer break. “Uh, maybe we should come up with a Plan B.”

Dylan tossed her a surprised look. “I thought we were all agreed on ice cream.”

She groaned as those two magic words launched Hunter into a rousing chorus of
icecreamicecreamicecream
. Repeat that about million more times—which he did—and it was the makings for an Extra Strength Tylenol moment. She rubbed her temples. “Did you not notice how many kids are parked in front of that place?”

“Yeah,” Dylan responded, slowly dragging out the word.

“So that’s the equivalent of a whole bunch of Mandys, give or take a few dozen.”

Dylan rubbed his jaw. “I see your point.” After a brief period of apparently mulling the situation over, he shrugged. “Hell, I don’t mind if you don’t.”

She blinked. “Really?”

“I’ll let you in on a secret. The adult fans scare me a helluva lot more than the youngins.” He opened up the SUV’s center console and snatched a pen. “At least this time I’ll be prepared.”

Smart man.

For the next half hour he made good use of that pen and autographed every napkin eagerly passed to him by the schoolkids. He fielded their endless questions in easy stride and cracked jokes with them, quickly escalating their fan-crushing to an epic level. Zoe took in his natural rapport with the kids, her heart expanding. Those teens weren’t the only ones suffering from a serious case of crushing.

She had it bad for Dylan, with no hope for a cure in sight. Four years hadn’t lessened her feelings for him. If anything, they were growing more uncontrollable.

Jill, one of Zoe’s students, flashed a smile that displayed her braces in all their shiny glory. “Ms. Chapman, can Dylan come and teach us all how to play guitar on the first day of school?”

The question, though innocent, instantly carved a hollow chamber in Zoe’s belly. Dylan’s week would be up long before then. He’d likely be back in Nashville. Maybe even on the road.
This is why you can’t hold on to a pipe dream.
Much as she longed to refute the logical thought, she couldn’t. She glanced toward Dylan. He was still surrounded by a circle of kids, his head bent toward one of them while he attempted to tune out the cacophony around him. She returned her focus to Jill. “I doubt it, honey.”

Jill appeared crestfallen. She wasn’t the only one.

Zoe waited until a lull appeared in the constant animated chatter directed toward Dylan. Taking her shot, she anchored Hunter on her hip and wiggled her way to his daddy’s side. “Sorry y’all, but it’s time for Mr. Walker to get some breathing room.”

A series of boos greeted her announcement. Ignoring the heckling, she grasped Dylan’s hand and tugged him toward freedom. Unfortunately they didn’t get too far before they were stopped by several of the adult townies. Unlike the teens, they didn’t pester Dylan for autographs. Zoe wasn’t even sure if they were aware of his celebrity status.
There’s the generational gap for ya.
Instead they offered condolences on Dusty’s recent passing. Dylan somberly accepted each and every one, his bland features giving nothing away regarding his own feelings about his father’s death. Once again her heart pinched for him.

She squeezed his fingers, offering silent comfort. His gaze met hers and the heated spark that pinged between them was enough to make her breath catch.

In an instant she was transported to a night many moons ago, when she’d stood in a gas station food aisle, mesmerized and speechless from her overwhelming draw to this man. How was it possible to feel this connected to someone who was entirely wrong for you?

“Zoe.”

It took several heartbeats for her to register Taylor calling her name over the sound of her own pulse pounding a chaotic love song. She turned her head to see Tay ambling in their direction. After introducing him to Dylan, the two men shook hands and sized each other up. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. What was it with those carrying the Y chromosome that they constantly felt the need to do that? And lucky her, she got to look forward to Hunter one day carrying on the tradition. In the meantime, all she could do was raise him to the best of her ability and instill in him the importance of not leaving the toilet seat up when they got to that stage of potty training.

Taylor shifted his focus from Dylan and smiled at Zoe. “I’m throwing a surprise birthday party for Callie on Saturday. Hoping you and Hunter can make it. Dylan too, of course.” He tacked on the last part as an almost reluctant afterthought.

She frowned. “But Callie’s birthday isn’t for another month.”

“I know. This is more a means to distract her and Josh from Saturday being the anniversary of Tom’s death. Give ‘em something positive to focus on.”

The gesture was so sweet and caring, it brought a mist to her eyes. Sniffling, she tucked Hunter to her side and offered Tay a one-armed hug. “You’re a good brother.”

He chuckled. “I try. Gotta make up for sneaking that toad into her bed when I was twelve.”

Snorting, she released him. “We’ll be there.”

Taylor nodded and bid them a farewell before continuing down the sidewalk and ducking inside Heart Starter, Lexie’s coffee shop. Nibbling her bottom lip, Zoe turned her attention to Dylan. “Hope you don’t think I was accepting on your behalf. You don’t have to go.”

“No, I’d like to.” His expression turned teasing. “One of us has to make sure Taylor doesn’t get handsy with ya.”

She choked on a cough.

“Mama, no spreading yer germs.” Hunter slapped his tiny hand over her mouth. She pried his palm loose and gave him a peck on the cheek.

Smoothing her fingers over Hunter’s unruly hair, she glanced at Dylan. The damnable man was still grinning at her. “Taylor and I are only friends.”

“Darlin’,
you
might think that. I doubt he shares your sentiment.”

She squinted. “Are you suggesting that men and women can’t be friends?”

“Not at all. But I guarantee ya most single men don’t become buddies with a beautiful lady without the intention of finagling for somethin’ more.”

Hearing him call her beautiful filled her with a radiant glow of happiness. Rolling her lips to keep from displaying her goofy grin, she shifted Hunter in her arms, trying to ease the increasing numbness in her right arm. “So you’re saying you and I can’t be just friends?”

He surprised her by sliding his hands around Hunter’s squirming body and lifting him from her grasp. She was even more shocked by the fact that their son willingly snuggled against Dylan’s chest. Hunter rarely allowed anyone to hold him. Even Callie had to threaten him with a tickle fight to get him to stay put in her arms. Taking advantage of her momentary spell of wonderment, Dylan pressed his mouth to her ear. “Oh, we can be friends. But ya damn well better believe I’ll finagle for more.” He backed up his statement by biting her earlobe.

She shivered, every square inch of her skin flushing.

Hunter poked Dylan in the chest. “No biting or you’ll get a spanking.”

Oh Lord. Out of the mouth of babes. Clamping her lips together to keep from laughing, she met Dylan’s sparkling gaze.

“If your mama delivers it, I might like it.”

He probably would, the kinky man. Dropping her arm, she cleared her throat and gestured toward the parked SUV. “We should head out before everyone gets off work.”

One corner of Dylan’s mouth hitched upward. “What constitutes rush hour traffic in Red Creek? Two vehicles and a squirrel?”

Her lips twitched. “Don’t estimate the squirrel. He really creates a snarl.”

“Better take your word for it then.” He led the way to the vehicle and settled Hunter in the child seat in the back. When she attempted to take over buckling their son in, Dylan waved her off. “I need to learn how to do this stuff.”

Unaccustomed to standing by and twiddling her thumbs, she quietly waited for him to figure out the proper placement of the straps. His patience with the task proved fruitful and he got Hunter secured in faster time than it’d initially taken her to figure out. Dutifully impressed, she climbed into the passenger seat and fiddled with her own safety harness. A moment later Dylan slid behind the wheel and she offered him a high five.

His smile warmed her all the way to her toes. “I did okay?”

“Gold star worthy.”

“Damn. Go me.” He gunned the engine and they were on their way.

The trip to her farmhouse was a pleasant distraction from all the concerns and doubts buzzing in her head. With the windows down, the sticky breeze spiked with the scent of summertime lulled her into a dreamy haze. It was so easy to pretend this fantasy was real—that she and Dylan were normal parents, out for a normal afternoon drive after spending some normal family time together.

It was all so perfectly normal.

“What are ya thinkin’ about?”

Snapping from her daydream, she peered at Dylan. “Huh?”

“You had this look on your face just now. Like you were visitin’ the happiest place on earth.” He chuckled. “Were ya thinkin’ about Disneyland?”

She shot a quick glance over her shoulder and gusted a sigh of relief at Hunter’s sleep-lax face. Making a tsking sound, she gave Dylan the stink eye. “Mom’s rule—you’re not allowed to speak that name in front of a three-year-old unless you’re prepared to listen to a twenty-four hour continuous loop of said child begging to see Mickey.”

“Duly noted.” He tore his attention from the road long enough to send her a devilish look. “Is that rule before or after the no biting one?”

Heat spread through her like an eruption of lava. The wicked man was going to be the death of her. “I’ll let you figure that one out on your own.”

“Oh, I will.”

Lord, what monster had she unleashed? Gulping, she wisely kept her mouth shut for the rest of the journey. They parked in the driveway and Dylan once again shooed away her attempts at freeing Hunter from his car seat. He carried their limp, blissfully snoring son all the way to his bedroom and carefully tucked him in bed.

Shaking his head at Hunter’s knocked-out state, Dylan scooted the teddy bear with the missing eye underneath Hunter’s arm. “Man, wish I could go down for the count like that.”

“You and me both.”

Dylan straightened and shoved his hands in his pockets. “What do you usually do while he’s sleepin’?”

“Take the opportunity to recharge before he’s up and Mr. Energizer Bunny again.”

He cocked his head to the side. “You mean a nap?”

“Sometimes. If I can sneak one in. My special treat is getting to read a book in the bathtub without Little Man trying to drown his G.I. Joe doll in there with me.”

“Should I be jealous that G.I. Joe has been spending quality soaking time with you?”

She batted her eyelashes. “He does tend to get fresh with me.”

“Don’t blame him one bit.”

The butterflies in her stomach whipped into a frenzy at the concentrated way Dylan stared at her. Jitterier than if she’d guzzled two carafes of coffee, she chaffed her arms and inched toward the doorway. “Are you hungry? I could always wrangle together some snacks.”

Not giving him room to shoot down that plan, she ducked into the hall and hauled ass into the kitchen. Sucking in a deep, fortifying breath, she yanked open the pantry’s accordion doors and blindly canvassed the available options. She grabbed the closest box, not even conscious of what it was, and pivoted—crashing into the solid wall of muscle behind her.

Gasping, she clutched at Dylan, dropping the package in the process. He kicked it away with his boot before pressing her up against the pantry’s frame and bracketing her face with his big hands. The next instant that mouth she couldn’t stop thinking about slammed over hers. She wished she could say she fought the intensity of the kiss, but that’d be a shameless lie. Her arms encircled his waist, holding on for dear life as the firestorm consumed her. His tongue swept over hers, and then thrust deeper, coaxing a needy whimper from her throat. He cupped the back of her head, his other hand abandoning her cheek to seek out her breast. Devilish fingers squeezed and molded her flesh through the frustrating restriction of her tank top before slipping beneath the fabric.

His first brushing caress over her bare skin nearly made her knees buckle. And that was before his hand closed around her breast. Once that occurred she knew she was a goner. No force on earth would save her now. She needed his mouth on her. Everywhere. Now.

As if he’d read her mind, Dylan whisked her top over her head. Her excitement and the coolness of the AC instantly puckered her nipples beyond the point of bearable. He took advantage of their pebbled state and sucked one between his teeth, laving the distended tip with his tongue. Every wet, sensuous pass of that wicked appendage sent a corresponding ripple of need straight to her pussy. Well aware of the effect he was having on her, he cruised his hand to her mound and massaged her through her shorts, earning her whimper.

He tore his mouth from hers, his gaze dark and stormy. “Gotta taste you, Zoe. Before I fucking combust.”