Page 61 of Wildest Dreams

I blinked at him slowly. I meant me and him, but I didn’t appreciate the attitude.

“Rhyland is doing more than you ever have for Gravity.” This part was true.

“I don’t like him.”

“Good thing I’m the one who fucks him, not you.” If only.

“How soon?” he demanded, his left eyelid pulsating, twitch-twitch-twitch.

“I’m not going to time it. When it feels right.”

“That’s not fair,” he griped, giving me a look of disbelief. “I know my rights, Dylan. If you start posing too many difficulties, I will get lawyers involved.”

“Awesome. I’d love to tell the judge you left me to raise her for three and a half years so you could get a tan on Bondi Beach.” I turned to face him. “Oh, and I took plenty of pictures of the new bracelet you gave me.” I raised my arm between us. “Nice gift, by the way.”

“Look, I don’t want any trouble,” he said quickly, licking his lips. “I just want to be a part of your and Gravity’s life. I think the fact that you came here, to this city, to this bar, is kismet. You can’t tell me it doesn’t mean anything. I mean, what are the odds?”

“Pretty good, considering Kieran sent me here.”

“What are the odds I’d see Kieran here?” he insisted. “That he’d recognize me. That I’d tell him I was going back to Staindrop to take care of you and Gravity.”

“Whoa there.” I stumbled back, my ass hitting the counter. “I don’t need you to take care of me. This is purely about Gravity. I—”

“C’mon, Dylan.” He snorted, stepping forward, ignoring my discomfort. “You can’t tell me you’re really considering marrying that douchebag Rhyland. He’s literally a man-whore. Like, it’s the talk of the town.”

Yawning provocatively, I gathered my hair and tied it into a messy bun. “Retired now. And all that practice made a particularly delicious perfect. I’m so thankful he introduced me to good dick.” I winked.

Inside, I was reeling. Tucker’s words had struck me like a thunderstorm. I couldn’t stop thinking about the woman who’d abused Rhyland, imagining myself strangling to death the faceless, entitled piece of work who thought she could have him just because she’d paid him to accompany her. I didn’t expect to take it so badly.

“Dylan. Dylan. Honey.” Tucker rushed toward me, and I tried not to flinch as he took my arms in his hands, peering down into my eyes.

I realized, to my horror, I could never hate him all the way, because he had my daughter’s eyes and smile and dimples.

“It’s your anger speaking, and I get it. I messed up. Let me make this up to you. We were so great together. Don’t let one small mishap ruin this for us.”

“Allison wasn’t a mishap.” I yanked my arms away, ducking under him and swiftly making my way to the back end of the bar. He followed me. “And neither were the last three, almost four, years. I can’t, in good conscience, keep you away from your daughter if you plan to do the right thing by her. Betterlate than ever. But you and I have been done since the moment you docked back in Staindrop that Christmas and went to your mistress instead of to the hospital to see your daughter. This is still over, Tucker.”

With that, I grabbed my shit from my locker and fled.

RHYLAND

Bruce: Where are you?

Rhyland: Home?

Bruce: Why is there a question mark? You ain’t sure where your fancy butt is, boy?

Goddamn boomers and their inability to decipher tone. I was close to losing my patience with the guy. He’d been jerking me around, making me wait for our Texas gathering before he’d make a decision. I knew business deals took time—Tate had warned me—but Bruce knew I was sitting on a gold mine and was playing hardball because…what, he knew I had a history of dating women for money?

Rhyland: I’m home, why are you asking?

Bruce: I’m coming over to hand-deliver you and your fiancée the invitation to my house.

Rhyland: We already RSVP’d.

Bruce: So?

My deep-rooted urge to knock Bruce’s teeth down his throat morphed into panic. Truth was Dylan and I didn’t live together, and one glance at my bachelor pad would confirm this. I had to think on my feet.

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