Second Dance Cowboy (Second Chance) (22 page)

“Ahh
, come on. Aren’t you glad to see me?” He winked, his charming grin returning like a vice that choked her.

“No.”

“You don’t mean that.” He pulled her closer and nuzzled his lips against her neck. She brought her hands to his chest and started to push when movement on the stairs caught her attention. She brought her attention further upward and met Dillon’s heated stare.

“Dillon.” She
took a step away from Richie.

“Am I interrupting?” Dillon asked.

Richie dragged his gaze up the stairs. “I think I was interrupting, buddy,” Richie said.

Dillon
descended each step, slowly, his eyes on Peyton. “You must be Richie.” He stepped onto the floor.

Something flashed over Richie’s face. “Do I know you?” His brows curved over curious gaze.

“We’ve never met,” Dillon said.

“Then I guess I’m at a disadvantage. What’s your name?” Richie asked.

Peyton stepped forward, breaking the bridge of testosterone. “Richie, this is my friend Dillon.”

“Oh, I see.” Richie’s gaze
widened. “I’m Peyton’s husband.”

Peyton didn’t dare look at Dillon. She
guessed he was as shocked as she was to see Richie. “Ex-husband,” she corrected. Richie laughed and Peyton’s insides swirled. She had an instant desire to throw up.

“You okay?” Dillon asked Peyton.

Hesitating, she looked from Richie to Dillon. “I’m fine.”

He scrubbed his jaw. “I should probably go.”

“I’ll walk you out,” she said, grabbing his hand and starting for the door. She turned to Richie and pointed, “And you don’t take one step from that spot.”

On the porch, she nervously looked at Dillon who had
his hands pushed into his pockets. “He’s some character,” he said.

“Isn’t that the truth.” Richie was the last thing she wanted to deal with.

“Friend, huh?”

“What?” Her mushy mind
attempted to understand what he was saying.

“Yo
u introduced me as your friend,” he said.

“I did…but I didn’t mean—wait, was that wrong?” Her chest tightened.

“Hell, I don’t know, but I’d hoped I was more than a friend.” He moved and his boots scraped against the wood planks.

“
Dillon, I have no idea why he’s here. I can’t leave him alone in there. I’m not sure I want Oliver to see him.”

Dillon sighed. “Okay. We’ll talk later.
If you need anything, call me.” Without a glance her direction, he took off.

Going back inside, she nailed Richie with what she hoped was a powerful expression. “You need to leave. How the hell di
d you even know where we were?”

“I stopped at our house. Why the
hell was there strangers living there?”

Grabbing the lapel of his
worn leather jacket, she practically dragged him onto the porch. “I rented the house, not that it’s any of your business. You gave that right up years ago,” she snapped. Her heart raced and she needed to slow it down.

“I’m sorry to say
but you and my son are still my business.” Pleasure filled his gaze.

All of the oxyge
n left her lungs. “Go to hell, Richie!” Her words were close to a screech. The dog barked. “Hush, Bruno.”

Guilt plag
ued his expression. “I’m sorry I’ve been gone for a while. I would have called but you know how forgetful I am.”

“Forgetful or brainless?” She wasn’t holding back. For far too long he’d come prancing in and out of her life—Oliver’s life. She’d had enough.

“That’s not very nice. You know we belong together like peanut butter and chocolate.” He bent his head as if he would kiss her and she sidestepped him.

“
I’m certain you’re the last man on earth that I belong with.”

“I’m the boy’s father. You
can’t change that, no matter how many cowboys come knocking.”

Reminding
herself of the nights she lain awake, waiting for a call, waiting for Richie to show up sent revulsion twirling through her. She’d never allow him to hold so much control over her life again. Oliver’s father or not, she couldn’t allow him any control. “That’s none of your business.”

“I’m afraid it is, sweetheart.
We have history.” He slipped a hand along her cheek and she shivered. “Well, well, I see I still get a reaction.”

“One of disgust,” she hissed. “Now you ne
ed to go.”

Dropping his ha
nd to his side, he snorted. “Fine, but I want to see my son tomorrow. I have that right.”

“What makes you so sure he wants to see you?” The air grew colder.

“Ask him. If he says no, I’ll go away. But if he says yes, you got to do right by that boy.” He reached into his pocket, brought out a pen and reached for her hand. She pulled back. “Relax. Unless you have a piece of paper.” Reluctantly, she held out her palm. Richie scribbled a number on her skin. When his touch lingered too long, she pulled away. “Call me by noon tomorrow or I’ll have to come here again.”

And he was gone.

For the longest time she stood in the same spot, long after the lights of Richie’s motorcycle had faded into the foggy night. Her skin grew chilled, forcing her inside. She could hear Bettie and Uncle Marty’s laughter coming from the kitchen, grateful that neither he nor Oliver had seen Richie.

Climbing
the stairs, she went straight into her bedroom and dropped to the bed, burying her face into the pillow. If she screamed, would they hear? She couldn’t take the risk.

Richie wanted to see Oliver. She had no right to keep Oliver from
him that was if he wanted to see his dad.

Her thoughts slipped to Dillon
. She wanted to call him—she needed him.

Reaching for the phone, she stopped.

As much as she wanted to hear his voice, old demons seeped through her conscious. Richie wouldn’t just walk away, she knew him too well. He’d caused her much heartache in the past. Why had she given so many years to someone who didn’t deserve one second?

A faint knock came at her door. “
Yes?”

“Mom?”

“Come in, Ollie.” She sat up, quickly finger combing her hair and smoothing her wrinkled shirt—hoping her intelligent son didn’t see the remnants of tears.

He
stepped in, worried lines of his own marring his sweet features. “Did Dillon leave?” She nodded. “Did Dad leave?”

Her mouth fell open and she snapped it shut, thinking over her next words. When had she ever thought she could hide anything from her son? “You
knew he was here, huh?”

He gave a qu
ick nod and came to sit down on the edge of the bed. “I wanted to see what was taking Dillon so long. I saw Dad standing by the stairs.”

“You didn’t want to say hi?” She put aside her feelings.

“I dunno.” One slender shoulder raised then slumped. “I wasn’t sure.”

“I understand.” She patted his hand, her heart going out to him. “I didn’t know he was coming, or I
would have told you. I wasn’t sure what I should do.”

“He does that a lot. Comes and goes. That’s not fair.”

Her little guy was quickly becoming a young man, moments like this made that fact clear. His dad’s disappearing and reappearing act had to stop. “He has asked to see you.” She had no reason to keep Richie’s intentions secret. Secrets were never good, and Dillon’s situation was a good example. She’d done all she could to keep the communication open.

Seconds passed until finally he sighed and nodded. “I think I should see him. What do you think, mom?”

Wrapping her arm around his thin shoulders, she squeezed. “I will back you in whatever you choose. I know it’s hard to see sometimes, but your father does love you. When you were born, he held you and cried. He said you looked just like him when he was a baby and he was so proud.”

“I don’t think he cares much. Doesn’t seem like he does.”

Peyton blinked away tears. “Some people have a hard time showing others how they feel. Your father didn’t have it easy growing up. No excuses for him, but it’s important to remember that not every kid has a loving home. And I can’t even begin to tell you how much I love you.”

“You
don’t regret having me?” His gaze met hers and his innocence tore through her.

“My
precious boy, I wouldn’t change a thing. From the moment you came into my life I knew how special you are. Where else would I get my smiles from?” She tickled his neck and he laughed, but it didn’t last long “Hey, are you in the mood for ice cream? I know I am.”

“Sounds good.”

Together they walked down the stairs and Peyton knew she had to protect her son.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

PEYTON HEARD THE car pulling up in the driveway and stepped out on the porch. Oliver climbed from the passenger side of Richie’s borrowed car.

“Hey, mom.” Oliver gave her a quick kiss on the cheek as he rushed to the door.

“Did you have a good time?” This evening was the third time Richie had picked up Oliver and took him out—playing soccer, to dinner and tonight they’d went to a movie. Although she’d been doubtful of Richie’s intention, she couldn’t deny that he seemed to want to get to know Oliver again.

“Yeah, the movie was great. I want to show dad my new game.”
He ran inside.

“Okay.” She laughed, happy to see her son smiling.
She turned to Richie. “Thank you for taking him to see the movie. Robots aren’t really my thing,” she said.

“Thank you for letting me see him this week. While he’s inside, can I talk to you a minute?” Richie’s expression sent chills down her spine. She knew the look and had seen it too often.

“When are you leaving?” The words rushed from her.

He slid his hand through his hair and blew out a long breath through his lips. “You always did know me.”

Wrapping her arms around her waist, her insides shook. “I guess I do.” And she realized he’d never change. He still wore the same rock-star clothing he wore in his twenties.

“The band and I have decided to tour Europe.
Man, it’s a great opportunity.”

“Aren’t they all?
” She couldn’t hold back the bitterness. “How long will this one last?” 

“One year, maybe two…if it goes good.” He pushed his hands into his
front pockets and dug at the grass with the toe of his boots. “Anyway, you know it’s over between you and me.”

Her moan
seemed to echo for miles across the farmland. “Is that fact just now registering? And what does that have to do with Oliver and you being his father?” For years, he’d manipulated her, and she’d grown strong. He’d never ruffle her feathers as he once had, she wouldn’t let him.

“Oliver seems to like Cowboy. I get a feeling his mother does too.” His dark eyes met hers across the grass.

“Let’s not veer off the path here, Richie. Have you told Oliver that you’re leaving again so soon?”

He shrugged a slender shoulder. “I thought you should. You always were much better about breaking bad news.”

“That’s because I never had a choice, now did I?”

“Come on, Pey. You know I can’t stay here. What would
a guy like me do? I’m not a man who’d wear a cowboy hat and boots. Or ride a horse.”

“No, you aren’t
. “ Peyton wanted to verbally blast him, but it’d be a waste of breath.

“I’ve got to go. I
gotta meet up with the band tomorrow. You tell Oliver I’ll call.” With that, he turned and made a quick beeline to the car.

The lights were fading as the screen door came open and Oliver dashed out. “I found it!” He held up the case as his smile vanished. “Where did he go?”

Tears filled Peyton’s eyes but she blinked them back. She needed to be strong. Unfortunately, she’d gone through this too many times. “I’m sorry, Ollie, he had to leave.”

His
shoulders drooped. “Will he be back?”

“L
et’s have a seat, son.” She reached for his hand but he pulled back.

“Mom, I’m not a child anymore. I know how
he is. He’s leaving again, right?”

Her child
was mature beyond his years. “Yes, he has a gig in Europe. I’m sorry, Ollie.”

His
Adam’s apple bobbed. “It’s okay. It was good while it lasted. Is it okay if I go upstairs and play a game?” His hand was already on the door.

“Yes, we’ll have dinner in a while
. I’ll call you down.” The slamming of the door broke the barricade of tears. Without Richie, she wouldn’t have Oliver, and yet she realized more than ever she needed to let go of the past. Oliver deserved to have stability, and surrounded by people who care.

Wiping the trail of wetness from her cheek
s, she sniffed back another round. It wasn’t fair that Oliver expected disappointed when it came to his father.