Lone Star Blues. Delores Fossen

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       CHAPTER FOUR

      HELL IN A turd-filled handbasket. Dylan’s head was no longer throbbing so he didn’t have any trouble hearing what Jordan had said.

      I should be the one to have custody of Corbin.

      No trouble feeling the kick-to-the-gut reaction that he had, either. Or the anger. Really bad, pissed-off anger.

      That particular emotion wasn’t exactly a new feeling when it came to Jordan. They’d had way too many arguments before they’d split, but “out of sight” had cooled down some of that old ire. However, it hadn’t done squat for the way his eyeballs kept looking at her.

      Specifically, at her mouth.

      It had been Jordan’s mouth that’d first attracted him, and it was apparently still a lust magnet. Thankfully, though, he could push the lure of that mouth aside since it’d been the very part of her body to utter those words that’d riled him.

      “I’m Corbin’s father,” Dylan reminded her.

      “Biologically,” Jordan countered.

      “Maybe,” Lucian reminded both of them.

      Both Jordan and Dylan shot him glares. Dylan’s was meant to stop any future reminders like that from anyone, not just Lucian. Yeah, there were a lot of things in question, but Dylan was going to believe Adele on this. He also wouldn’t just hand over his son to Jordan. Or anybody else for that matter.

      “Is this about that bingo card?” Dylan asked her. “Because if it is, I didn’t start that dumb game.”

      Jordan took a deep breath. “It’s not just the game. It’s your, well, lifestyle. Red panties and sex cards. That can’t be good for Corbin.”

      It wasn’t. But Dylan had planned on making some big changes in his life. Not that Jordan, Lucian or anybody else would believe it, but he would. He’d do whatever it took to make sure Corbin had a good life.

      A good life that Jordan might not be able to give him.

      “You’re still in the Air Force?” he asked.

      Dylan knew it wasn’t just a simple question. There were other questions that went along with that, including the “right back in her face” reminder that deployments and overseas assignments might be good for a military officer but not necessarily for a toddler.

      Jordan nodded. “I’m still in. For now. I’m being assigned to Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio. But I’ve been...rethinking things.”

      He saw it then, the slight shift of her posture, and she glanced away. Not exactly any in-your-face gestures, but Dylan could see something simmering just beneath the surface. And he wanted to kick himself. She was rethinking things because she’d been held captive by those insurgents.

      Now he was the one who had to glance away from her. Even though Jordan and he hadn’t seen each other in years, she’d once been his wife. He still cared for her. Or at least he had cared before she’d done that custody-challenge throwdown about a minute ago. Now he was riled, along with wishing that something that bad hadn’t happened to her. But it had happened, and Dylan had to take it into account.

      “Are you okay?” he asked her. And, yes, he probably should have figured out a different way to ask if she’d gone bat-crap crazy because of being held captive when she was on deployment.

      Jordan’s eyes narrowed a little. Her mouth tightened, too, a reminder that yes, that mouth still had a way of getting his attention. That’s why Dylan looked away again.

      “I’m fine.” Her tone was snappish, but it was like a person gushing blood saying that it was just a flesh wound. No way could she be fine after something like that, especially since it’d only happened weeks ago. Some folks didn’t get over trauma like that—ever.

      “I can get out of the Air Force if I want,” she added a moment later, and her voice was a lot more even-keeled now. “While I’m on leave, I’m considering my options.”

      Well, Dylan wanted her to consider those options elsewhere. But he immediately frowned at that thought. Feeling that way wasn’t right. Jordan was Corbin’s family, too, and the kid would need all the support that he could get.

      “If you’re at Lackland Air Force Base, does that mean you won’t be deployed or have to go do temporary duty somewhere?” he pressed.

      Jordan shook her head. Hesitantly shook it, though. “There’s still a chance something like that would happen.” Her tone was hesitant, too.

      That was his winning argument, all wrapped in her own words. Well, it was a winner if she stayed on active duty and took that assignment.

      “So, you’re saying you’ll get out of the military, move back here and sue Dylan for custody,” Lucian clarified. His brother didn’t say it as mean-spirited and grouchy as he could have. He did it more the way he would while negotiating a business deal that he wasn’t especially sold on. However, Dylan knew how Lucian wanted this particular deal to go down.

      With Jordan getting custody.

      And preferably, having the DNA results to prove that Corbin wasn’t even a Granger. That would tie everything up in a neat little package for Lucian.

      Dylan didn’t want either of those things, and the only reason Lucian did was he thought this would interfere with business as usual. And all because he thought Dylan was too much of a screwup to handle raising a kid. Of course, Jordan felt the same way. He could see that in her eyes.

      “Don’t look at me like that,” Dylan grumbled at the exact moment that Jordan said, “Don’t look at me like that.”

      Obviously, they quit giving each other the looks that’d caused their comments, but that’s because they were both surprised now. And frowning. Even after all these years, they were on the same wavelength.

      “I’m not broken,” Jordan snapped. “I was doing my job when I was taken—a job I was trained well to do—and then I was rescued. End of story.”

      Since she’d gotten a little louder and a little crisper with each word of that explanation, Dylan doubted it was anywhere near the end. Nope. His sex bingo past didn’t hold a candle to possible PTSD, though Dylan wasn’t especially pleased that he’d won this particular contest.

      Dylan was about to tell her how terrible he felt about this god-awful thing that’d happened to her, once he figured out how to say it, that is, but her phone buzzed before he had a chance to work that out.

      Jordan yanked the cell from her jeans pocket, and when she saw the name on the screen, she glanced up at the ceiling as if asking for some divine intervention. Obviously, this wasn’t a call she especially wanted to take. Probably because СКАЧАТЬ