Killian (The Sons of Dusty Walker Book 3) (15 page)

He cleared his throat. “Lexie and I have plans, too.”

“Well,” Jackson said, “spit it all out.”

He told them about her art and the plans he had to help her with it. She would keep Heart Starter for the immediate future until her art really took off. But their jaws dropped when he told them what he was going to do.

“Buy land adjacent to Dusty’s?” Dylan asked.

“You might ought to take a parcel of Dusty’s land, too,” Rogue said. “It’s gonna be ours to do with as we wish, so share and share alike, right?”

The others nodded.

“But raising Appaloosas.” Dylan shook his head. “Mighty ambitious.” Then he grinned. “Be sure to have one for me to ride, though.”

They discussed the company and the prospects for its future as well as the role each of them would take, some more than others.

Cubby’s wife brought their bill to the table.

“Well, you four are quite a sight, sittin’ here peas in a pod.” Sherry cocked her ample hip. “You all decide if you’re stayin’ or goin’?”

The brothers smiled.

“Hard to believe, but it looks like we’ll be stayin’.” Jackson pulled out his wallet.

“Yeah, but you three cowboys forgot about that damn bonding.” Dylan grabbed the bill and handed it back to Sherry with a couple twenties. “Come back and ask us the same question again in a week.”

They all laughed.

Outside, they all shook hands and said they’d see each other back at the house later to start their week living and working together. Killian wasn’t positive he could stand a week not sleeping next to Lexie, but it was all for a good cause. Besides, he wanted to make sure it would work out for the two of them to live in the house while their own was being built. Then he strolled down the block to Heart Starter. It pleased him the people recognized him and greeted him along the way.

Lexie’s place was almost empty when he got there, thank goodness. He walked behind the counter and, ignoring the few people sitting at tables, lifted Lexie off her feet and gave her a big kiss.

“I take it things went well,” she commented when he put her down.

“Better than,” he told her. “Tomorrow, I’m gonna have Elaine fix me up with a real estate agent so I can see about buying some of the land next to the house, but the guys—”

“Your brothers,” she interrupted. He grinned because she never missed an opportunity to remind him.

“Okay, you’re right. My brothers. Anyway, they’re all being real great about sharing and insist we take some of Dusty’s land, too.”

“Wow!” She touched his cheek. “I’m so happy for you, Killian.”

“For us,” he corrected. “Think we can manage in your little apartment while our house is being built?”

“As long as we’re together, I can handle anything.”

“Wait.” He held up a hand. “I think that’s my line.”

“Okay, then let’s hear it.”

“As long as we’re together, I can handle anything. Because I love you.”

“Love you, too, cowboy.”

He cupped her cheeks and touched his mouth to hers, increasing the pressure of his lips until she opened and he took the kiss deep. He meant what he said. With her, anything was possible. She’d already proved that. They had plans for the new life they were going to build, and he could hardly wait to get started.

Don’t miss a single one of The Sons of Dusty Walker

The Sons of Dusty Walker: Dylan (Book 1) by Jodi Redford

Blurb:

Secrets and lies—the legacy of Dylan Walker’s existence. Ashamed of his status as a bastard son, Dylan found solace and a sense of identity as the lead bass guitarist for Truckstop Pickup. But with one phone call, his world is shaken to its core. Summoned to Kansas after the death of his father, Dylan discovers he has three brothers he knew nothing about. Reeling from that earth-shattering revelation, he figures life can’t throw him a bigger curveball. Until fate puts him face-to-face with the woman his heart refuses to forget...and her little boy. Who just happens to bear a striking resemblance to Dylan.

Never love a musician. That’s always been Zoe Chapman’s number one motto. Daughter of a legendary country star, she knew that truth better than anyone. Then she’d met Dylan. He’d stripped her of her defenses, and she’d fallen. Hard. Now he’s back in her world. A living, breathing, too-sinful-for-words personification of everything she’s ever wanted. And can never have. Only Dylan is dead set on becoming a permanent fixture in their son's life. Determined to make her part of the package deal, he works at breaking down her walls again, and her resistance is slipping faster than her panties.

But there’s another secret Zoe’s hiding. And it could end up pushing Dylan away from her forever.

Find Dylan at
www.jodiredford.com
and on Amazon

Excerpt:

Dylan ambled into the periodical aisle and scanned the options. Naturally his favorite—
Guitar World
—was noticeably absent, so he picked up the latest
Time
instead. A nearby fashion rag snagged his attention, mainly because the model on the cover had a smoldering gaze that reeled him in. He stood there like a complete dope, the magazine clutched in his hand, but his mind was a million miles away, steeped in an erotic memory. Gorgeous green eyes locked with his, peering straight into his soul. The sensuous slip-slide of their sweat-slickened bodies. Zoe’s nails digging into his ass, refusing to let him go, even when he buried himself so hard and deep within her, he swore he could feel her heartbeat. Or maybe it was the fierce mad rush of his own pulse as she annihilated his defenses. She was a danger to all of his carefully held rules. Don’t get close. Offer no promises. Forget her and move on.

The first two had been taken out of his hands with her refusal to give him her last name. But Rule Three was impossible. He’d never forget her. God knows he’d tried.

He thunked the magazine back in the rack and continued his shopping, adding a box of Benadryl to his stash in hopes of it helping him get some shut eye the rest of the week. The sound of a young child laughing broke through his concentration. Customers must have come in when he wasn’t paying attention. Time to get his ass back to Hazel before someone beat him to the front of the line.

Rounding the corner of the aisle, he spotted the petite blonde parked at the pharmacy counter.
Damn, too slow.

He checked out the blonde’s heart-shaped posterior, his resignation shifting to appreciation. He’d gladly buy a round of beers for whoever was responsible for inventing yoga pants. Hell, he’d purchase them an entire distillery.

The female scraped her hair back and he spotted the hot pink streaks scattered in with the platinum locks. He wouldn’t have figured anyone around these parts for adopting an edgier style like that. Maybe she wasn’t local.

And didn’t that make things potentially interesting?

Hazel scooted up to her side of the counter and beamed a smile, instantly breaking up Dylan’s two-second happy parade quicker than a firehose set on full blast. Judging from the older woman’s response, the blonde wasn’t a stranger in town.

Just his damn luck. First female in a long time who stirred more than a passing fascination in him and he had to keep his mitts to himself. 

“Zoe, dear. Perfect timing. I was about to give ya a ring to see about some private lessons for Ginger.”

Dylan jolted at the name.
Holy shit
. How damn weird was that? Here he’d been thinking about Zoe, and another one stood a couple feet in front of him. And it wasn’t even that common of a—

His thoughts rear-ending each other like a fifty car pileup, he jerked his attention back to the ass he’d so eagerly admired seconds ago. A tingle of déjà vu tripping through his synapses, he blinked. “Zoe?”

“Hm?” The blonde sent him a distracted look over her shoulder.

Shock punching him square in the solar plexus, he returned the gaze of the woman who’d haunted his dreams for the last four years.

He cataloged the exact moment Zoe registered who he was. Her poleaxed expression hinted that she was equally stunned by their unexpected reunion. He prayed that her silence
was
due to disbelief. They’d left things on good terms, but shit knows women tended to recall events in a wholly different light than most clueless men. And he wasn’t too proud to admit that he could be just as dimwitted as the rest of his gender.

Figuring he better say something rather than continuing to gape at her like a psycho, he cleared his throat. “Man, it’s good to see you.”

She opened her mouth, but the only sound that emerged was a wispy, distressed breath. He didn’t think it possible, but her coloring turned several shades whiter than Casper the Friendly Ghost. Suddenly alarmed that she might be moments away from passing out, he rushed forward—and collided with the little tike barreling across his path. The kid bounced off Dylan’s leg and tumbled onto the ground. Before he could reach for the boy, Zoe snapped out of her daze and hunkered to her knees, her shaking hand smoothing over the tot’s stick-straight brown hair. “Hunter, that’s why I keep telling you not to run in stores.”

“Yes, mama.”

The sweet childish voice uttering those two words sent another bolt of shock careening through Dylan. Zoe...was a mom? Desperately trying to process that thought, he slashed his attention to Hunter. As if he’d known he was the subject of deep scrutiny, the little boy popped his thumb in his mouth and peeked up at Dylan.

He stared into Hunter’s eyes. Everything surrounding Dylan tilted at a funny angle and a strange prickle of awareness hopscotched across his suddenly flushed skin. The tiny person looking back at him was a mirror of himself at that age. Honest to God, with that kind of resemblance, Hunter could be...

Hot and cold flashes racing inside him, he reluctantly tore his focus from the boy and met Zoe’s horrified gaze.

Find Dylan at
www.jodiredford.com
and Amazon

********

The Sons of Dusty Walker: Jackson (Book 2) by Randi Alexander

Blurb:

When rodeo bronc rider Jackson Walker’s father passes away, he’s shocked to find he’s not the only son of Dusty Walker. His dad had three other families at compass points around the country. When a stipulation in Dusty’s will requires him to live in his dad’s house and work at his company for one week, Jackson heads to Red Creek, Kansas to get it over with, so he can get the hell back to his regularly scheduled life.

Computer engineer Rori Hughes needs to solidify her position in Dusty’s company, but the only one of his four sons available is Jackson, and Rori has a mighty low opinion of rodeo cowboys. Finding inconsistencies in the computer files, Rori and Jackson work together to solve the mystery, but their constant contact fires a red-hot desire that burns wild between them.

Spending their days at Dusty’s opulent lakeside home, and their nights together making love, they both ignore the warning signs that point to their attraction becoming more than merely sexual. Jackson’s time in Red Creek is coming to an end, but can he follow his original plan and leave town, breaking away from smart, beautiful, sexy Rori?

Read the first chapter and find out where to get your copy at my
website
.

Excerpt:

Jackson sat in his dad’s chair and opened the top file.
West Virginia coal and gas plant production specification codes…
The words didn’t even register as English. “Hell.” Jackson didn’t have enough fuel in him yet for this tedious shit. He stood, hiked up his jeans, and walked back down the hall to the small kitchen. Pouring a cup, he spotted a black ringed-binder on top of the refrigerator.

He pulled down the book and flipped it open. The first page had a newspaper article about Dusty Walker’s first day as owner of the newly re-incorporated company he and his wife had inherited from his father-in-law. “Huh.” So Dad had changed the company name. And his wife owned half, which probably explained why Dusty had stayed with her, the greedy asshole.

Jackson felt the heat of anger surface again, and shook his head. The guy was gone. Wasn’t it time to shove past this pissed-off phase and move on to…moving on?

He scanned through dozens of pages of news articles, the first half from actual newspapers, the later ones printed from online sites, all of them chronicling the rapid growth of the company under his father’s leadership. He had to admit, Dad had a crap-load of business sense.

“Hi there.” The receptionist’s voice reached him from her desk.

“Hi. Is he here?” A deep female voice had Jackson cocking his head.

“He is. Let me—”

“Wait, which one is this, now?” That sultry voice again.

“It’s Jackson, the third son. He’s twenty-five. From Oregon.” Abby didn’t bother to lower her voice. She must not realize he was just around the corner. Or did she know he was there, and just didn’t care if she appeared professional or not

“So, would you like me to let Jackson know you’re here to see him?”

“Wait, is this the rodeo cowboy?” Ms. Sensual Voice sounded disappointed.

“Yes. That’s him.” A giggle. “Is that a problem?”

Jackson set down his cup and moved a few inches to peek around the wall. His jaw dropped.