Zoe & Dylan: The Sons of Dusty Walker (4 page)

Samantha didn’t appear overly concerned about the possibility. The throbbing in Zoe’s temples intensified. “Why are you here?”

Her mom’s mouth curved into a pout. “What? You’re not happy to see me?”

“Yes, I am. You know I always look forward to your visits.” For the most part. At least until the thinly veiled death threats against Luke kicked in. Which were typically within ten minutes of her arrival. If nothing else, her mom was consistent.

“Good. Because I’m going to be here for three weeks.”

There couldn’t possibly be any more terrifying announcement than that. Even seeing that plus sign on the pregnancy stick instigated less of a panic. “What?”

“I’m having the condo’s wood floors refinished.”

“And you couldn’t stay at a hotel?” She caught her mom’s squint and flushed. “What I meant was I’m surprised you’d drive all the way here from Atlanta.”
Without calling first and giving me a heads up.
Although she really shouldn’t be shocked. Samantha wasn’t much for advance notice on anything. Why do that when instead she could just land on her daughter’s doorstep for three weeks like it was no big damn deal.

“Eh. What better excuse to come visit my family, right?”

Zoe gave a weak smile. “Right.”

This was going to be the longest three weeks of her life.

CHAPTER FOUR

The Heart Starter coffee and deli shop was packed to the gills but the Walker boys had the best table in the house. Perk of one of them being hitched to the owner.

“Y’all having the usual?” Lexie leaned down to give Killian a smooch before ruffling Hunter’s hair. Killian took the opportunity to pinch his wife’s butt before she straightened and tossed him a grin.

“We have a usual?” Jackson asked, setting his menu down.

“Let’s see...” Lexie lifted her gaze skyward and tapped her chin. “Four Heart Starter corned beef Reuben, fries extra crispy, and chicken fingers for Little Man.”

Rogue grunted. “Damn. Now I feel obligated to shake things up with a ham and cheese.”

“Always the rebel.” Lexie gave him a patient look. “Do you really want that?”

“Hell no.”

Rolling her eyes, Lexie left their table to get started on their order. Dylan unwrapped the straw for Hunter and dunked it in his glass of chocolate milk. While his boy occupied himself coloring his placemat with the provided crayons, Dylan shifted his focus to Killian. “Looks like married life’s treating you and Lexie well.”

There was no mistaking the bliss residing on his brother’s face. Dylan squelched the tiny twinge of envy that sprung forth in his chest. He was frustrated enough with the snail pace approach of his own upcoming nuptials. Didn’t need to make it worse by feeling like a spoil sport jackass. He was damn overjoyed that Killian and Lexie had found each other and pledged to be together forever in front of God, family, and the pastor who’d united them in holy matrimony.

He just wished he could convince Zoe to do the same. And soon.

“Ain’t nothing like married life. Just wait until you get there, Small Fry. You’re gonna love it.”

Dylan winced. Not at the nickname he’d earned a few months back after reeling in the smallest fish during one of their brother outings. Shit knows he’d been nicknamed worse. Although he knew Killian was just waxing poetic, his words still felt a little too similar to salt rubbed into his wounds.

His moody silence must have been immediately picked up on by his brothers because Killian cleared his throat. “Hell. Sorry, bro. Didn’t mean to upset ya.”

Dylan removed his trucker hat and stowed it on the back of Hunter’s seat. “It’s cool.”

Jackson took a quick swig from his water glass. “Maybe you guys should just go to a JP.”

“Or take a cruise and get married on board like me and Kit did,” Rogue countered.

His brothers’ obvious concern for him went miles in easing the heaviness from Dylan’s shoulders. “Appreciate the suggestions. I’ll swing them by Zoe and see what she has to say.” He had a bad feeling it wouldn’t be anything good. She hadn’t exactly jumped up and down over the elopement option. Not much chance she’d changed her mind. “Her mom’s staying with us for the next three weeks. Maybe I can get her to put a bug in Zoe’s ear about the wedding.”

“
Three weeks
?” Jackson shook his head. “Shit. Not sure how I’d feel about that if I were in your shoes.”

“Her mom’s actually not that bad. Compared to Luke, she’s a breath of fresh air. If not a bit outspoken and eccentric. I think she drives Zoe a lot crazier than she does me.”

“Yeah, but won’t it be kinda awkward? Ya know”, Jackson slid a look in Hunter’s direction before finishing, “enjoying intimate time with Zoe with her mom in the house?”

“That is the downside.” Dylan winced. “As it is, we haven’t had much s-e-x lately.” He had no damn idea why he spelled the word out. Most likely Hunter was too preoccupied with his coloring to pay attention.

“Fu—” Killian’s gaze whipped to Hunter and he cleared his throat. “Fudge, man. Time to do some wooing on your woman.”

Dylan grunted. “Nice save on the fudge. And you’re right. We’re long overdue for a date night.”

“You’ve got a built-in babysitter for three weeks.” Rogue gave him a pointed look over the rim of his coffee mug. “I’d take advantage of that if I were you.”

Killian and Jackson added their agreement to that plan. Dylan nodded. “I’ll bring it up to Sam and see what she says.”

Lexie arrived with their food, momentarily putting a ceasefire to any more talk. For the next several minutes they dug into their sandwiches with hungry abandon. After a moment a chuckle fell from Jackson. He jutted his chin toward Hunter. “Looks like my nephew is an apple off the old tree.”

Dylan glanced at his son’s plate and saw that he’d already polished off half of his chicken fingers. Grinning, he squeezed Hunter’s shoulder. His boy peered up at him, his little face set with concentration. “Ize fulled.”

“You did good, Little Man. We can take the rest home to Smoky and Tigger.”

The pensiveness didn’t vanish from Hunter’s countenance. Dylan tickled his son’s neck. “You don’t want to give it to them?”

“But then Ize not get big like you, Lan.”

Dylan blinked. “You want to get big like me?”

Hunter nodded enthusiastically enough it was a wonder his head didn’t bobble off. “I wants to grow up and be just like you.”

Holy shit. He was gonna start bawling any second here. Making a manly attempt to cover up his sniffle with a cough, Dylan hugged his son, using the opportunity to wipe the moisture from his eyes courtesy of the boy’s Scooby-Doo sweatshirt. He straightened in his seat and noticed that his brothers were all putting in a good attempt at concealing their own emotional response to Hunter’s admission.

Rogue exhaled wistfully. “Shit. I can’t wait till Kit pops our kid out.”

They spent the next few minutes ribbing Rogue before Lexie arrived with a carryout box for Hunter’s remaining chicken fingers and tater tots. After arguing over who would get to pay the bill they finally settled on an even four-way split. Dylan, Hunter, Jackson, and Rogue left Killian behind to flirt with his wife while they made their way outside into the brisk November afternoon. Dylan tucked Hunter close to his chest, ensuring the brunt of the wind hit him rather than his son. Forget the fact that the boy was bundled up warmer than any of them in his insulated coat and coveralls.

Jackson slid a glance toward Cyber Wise. “I, uh, think I’ll see if Rori is free for some
warming up
before I head back to D. Walker.”

“Sure, rub it into the guy who ain’t gettin’ any,” Dylan mock groused as his brother loped toward his sweetheart’s computer store.

“You should book a room at White Wing. It sure helped me and my Kit reconnect.”

Dylan pondered Rogue’s suggestion for a moment. “You know, that’s actually not a bad idea. Think Kit can arrange something romantic?”

“Text me your requests and I’ll pass them along to her.”

“Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

They shook hands and Rogue hopped in his vehicle while Dylan got Hunter situated in his car seat. He glanced out the rear window and spied a familiar black conversion van parked across the street. Frowning, he straightened and stared at the front first floor window of D. Walker Mineral. Even from this distance he could easily make out Trinity’s vibrant red hair. “What the hell is she doing in there?”

Intent on finding out, he freed Hunter from the straps and hoisted him into his arms again before dashing across the street. He ducked inside the building, a strong wind gust catching the door behind him.

Trinity and Abby, the receptionist, veered their attention to him.

“Hey, Little Man.” Abby abandoned her desk to come visit with Hunter. His son—being a natural sucker for blondes bearing Tootsie Rolls—wiggled out of Dylan’s arms and rushed toward her.

Dylan pinned his focus on his bandmate. “What’s going on, Trin?”

Truckstop’s backup singer and lyricist wrinkled her nose. “We were on our way to your place but Mal needed to make an emergency pit stop. You know what a weirdo he is about not using public bathrooms, so this was the closest sacrifice he’d make. I told him he’d regret eating that sketchy enchilada.” Sighing, Trinity transferred her gaze to Abby. “You’re going to need a hazmat team after he’s done in there.”

Abby’s lips twitched. “Thankfully we’re well stocked on Lysol.”

“I don’t understand. Why are you going to my place?” Dylan demanded, pointedly steering the conversation back on track. “You’re supposed to be holed up somewhere songwriting right now.”

“We are. Or I should say we will be. Just as soon as the Enchiladinator in there wraps things up.”

It took a second to process her meaning. Once he did, Dylan shook his head furiously. “Nope. You are
not
staying at the farmhouse.” It was way too cramped there as it was. Though he knew Zoe certainly wouldn’t mind, he’d never ask her to put up his bandmates for God knows how long.

Trinity gusted a heavy exhalation. “Look, it wasn’t my decision, so don’t bust my balls. Luke insisted he wanted to spend time with Hunter. Said it would inspire him.”

Oh fuck.
In all the confusion he’d completely forgotten that Luke was one half of Truckstop’s lyricist team. “Where is he?”

“Luke? In a rare case of
not
being an inconsiderate a-hole, he went over to the pharmacy to get some Pepto for Mal.”

“Good.”

“No shit.” Trinity snorted. “No pun intended. You don’t want Malcom bombing ya out of your own house.”

“No, I meant good that Luke isn’t here right now to hear this.” Dylan removed his hat and scraped his fingers through his hair. “Zoe’s mom is at the farmhouse.”

Trinity’s eyes widened. That wordless response spoke volumes. Dylan grunted. “Yeah. We’re looking at epic World War-grade shit if those two cross paths.”

Malcom chose that moment to grace them with his presence. His expression quizzical, he zipped up his jacket. “Who are you talking about?”

Dylan repeated what he’d just told Trinity. Malcom’s reaction was exactly on par with their female bandmate’s. “Jesus. That’s a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Precisely.” Dylan drummed his hat against his thigh. “We’re gonna have to come up with a Plan B. And fast.”

As if fate was dead set on mocking that possibility, the front door swung open and Luke stepped inside. He tossed Malcom the small paper bag presumably holding his Pepto. “I’m taking that out of yer next paycheck.” In a flash, his surliness evaporated as he spotted Hunter. “Little Man.”

Hunter gave an excited hoot before bum-rushing his grandpa. “I haz candy!” He opened his mouth to prove it before he finished chewing the Tootsie Roll. “I also gots a new kitty. She’s home with Grammy and mama.”

Dylan smothered a groan. So much for keeping Luke in the dark.

“Oh.” Luke eyed Dylan. “Georgianna’s in town?”

“Uh...” Dylan scratched his jaw, debating whether he should risk lying to Luke now and pay the consequence later.

“Not Nana! Grammy!”

Dylan’s wince was equal parts due to Hunter’s shrill shout and Luke’s frown. Luke dragged his gaze from his grandson and pinned it on Dylan. “My ex is here?”

No point beating around the bush now that the cat was outta the bag. “Yeah.”

Luke’s features resembled granite. “Well, I can see I’m not gonna be welcome.”

Shit.
He had his own troubles to deal with. Adding Luke to the mix was one more headache he didn’t need. “You have to know it’d be a bad idea the two of you staying there.”

“No, I git it. Samantha takes priority over me. I’ll go find some rat-infested hotel room to bunk in. Or maybe some homeless fella will let me share his cardboard box.”

The only thing missing from Luke’s wounded air was the accompanying martyr cross. Dylan gritted his teeth. “You can stay at my dad’s place.”

Malcom’s eyes lit up. “Really? That place is
sweet
.”

Dylan dug out his cellphone. “Let me swing it by Marliss first, but I don’t think it’ll be a problem.” He punched in a quick text to the housekeeper and self-appointed second mother hen to him and his brothers. A few seconds later her response pinged, verifying that she and her husband, Lou, would be happy to have some guests over at the house. Relieved to have at least that potential calamity resolved, he pocketed his phone. “I’ll drive over with you and help y’all get situated.”

Luke swung Hunter up into his arms. “Did you hear that, Little Man? Paw Paw is going to spend the whole week with you.”

Hunter swiveled his head toward Dylan. “Lan, did you hear?” he shouted, parroting Luke. “Paw Paw iz spendzing a week with us!”

Dylan plastered on the fakest smile in existence. “Yee haw.”