Zoe & Dylan: The Sons of Dusty Walker Read online

  “No, I know he loves me. And Hunter.” Then why did she break into a cold sweat whenever the wedding was mentioned? It made no sense. Most women looked forward to that special day and even dreamed about it from the time they were little girls. Heck, who hadn’t played out a wedding ceremony for Ken and Barbie at some point during their youth?

  Me, for starters. Just further proof that she was completely abnormal. Pushing aside that troubling thought, she squeezed Rori tight. “Thank you for being concerned about me, but it’s absolutely unnecessary. I’ve just had a lot on my mind with work.”

  “If you’re sure...”

  “I am.” She offered Rori her best attempt at a reassuring smile. “And I’m sorry if I came across weird about the bridal shower. I hope you don’t think I don’t appreciate it, because I do. So much.”

  Rori’s eyes lit up with excitement. “It’ll be so much fun. And classy. I’ll inspect Callie’s bags beforehand to make sure she doesn’t try to sneak in any penis party favors.”

  Laughing, she escorted Rori to her car and waved as her friend took off. She crossed to her own vehicle and slid behind the wheel. Her earlier doubts chose that moment to crawl out of the shadowed corners of her psyche.

  She should be eagerly counting down the days until she and Dylan were legally hitched. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be married to him, or didn’t love him with every ounce of her being. Because she did. God, did she ever. There was no other man on earth for her. Her heart had always belonged to him, even before that fated run-in with him at that Nashville gas station four years ago. For a woman who’d gone out of her way to avoid musicians and keep them off limits, she’d done a piss poor job of cutting off her emotions where Dylan was concerned. She’d never forget the first time she saw him. Didn’t matter that it hadn’t been in the flesh. It’d still rocked her world completely off its axis. It’d been shortly before Truckstop Pickup started burning up the charts. One of the popular entertainment magazines had did an article on up and coming rock country bands and Truckstop had been number one on the list. Although it’d always been a gut punch to see her dad’s picture anywhere, the sensation she’d felt that time had been an entirely different jolt to her system. One that’d left her dizzy and sweating buckets. Because she’d taken one look at her father’s handsome, sexier-than-sin lead guitarist and known she was majorly fucked. Dylan Mitchell Walker was about to disrupt her life in every way possible.

  Lord, did she ever hit the nail on the head with that prediction.

  Only she was grateful beyond reason that he had shaken her up. Not only did he give her Hunter and more love than she knew what to do with, he was the balm to her soul. If not for Dylan, she and her dad wouldn’t even be speaking to each other. And while she and Luke certainly still had miles to go in repairing their relationship, things were better between them than they’d ever been. Luke had even surprised everyone by making a concentrated effort to spend time with his grandson. That was a miracle in and of itself.

  Everything was so much better than she could have dreamed possible.

  Which made it even more difficult to understand where her head was at. Why she couldn’t make that next step to sealing her happiness with Dylan.

  You know why. You’re a fucked up mess and sooner or later he’s going to wake up and see the reality staring him straight in the face. Swallowing past the lump of misery lodged in her throat, she gunned the engine and backed out of the drive.

  ***

  Twenty-five minutes later she pulled in behind a familiar cherry red Miata parked in front of the farmhouse. Equal parts happiness and dread cycled through her.

  “Grammy!” Hunter squealed, kicking the back of the passenger seat with gleeful abandon.

  Zoe rubbed her temples. There wasn’t enough Extra Strength Tylenol in the world for dealing with her son’s rambunctiousness at times. Or visits from her mom.

  Sighing, she tossed her keys in her purse and climbed from the truck. Somehow she managed to get Hunter freed from his car seat without getting nailed by his flailing foot. Cuddling the kitten to her left side, she swiveled and dropped Hunter to his feet. He took off running toward the porch. “Grammy, Grammy, Grammy!”

  Samantha Pendergrass snubbed out the cigarette in her hand and jumped up from her perch on the glider. “There’s my favorite boy!” She rushed down the steps and swung Hunter up into her arms before smothering him in kisses. Giggling like crazy, Hunter wiggled, trying to escape.

  Zoe bit back a smile. Much as her mother drove her crazy, there was no denying that the woman adored her grandson. Samantha paused in her smooching to offer an only slightly less enthusiastic kiss to Zoe. Her mom’s eyebrows lifted as soon as she spotted the kitten. “You won’t let him have that puppy I was going to buy him, but you’ll get him another cat.”

  “I didn’t have much choice with the kitten. And that puppy was going to grow into a small horse.”

  “Great Danes are great family dogs. Just look at Marmaduke.”

  “A—he’s a cartoon. And B—wasn’t he the one always getting into some kind of trouble?”

  Her mom settled Hunter on his feet and waved her hand dismissively. She glanced around the yard. “Where’s that man of yours?”

  “Still in Smithsville. He should be home any time now.”

  “How is the band camp going?” Samantha lifted her hand to her mouth before recalling that she no longer held a cigarette. Grimacing, she dropped her arm. “Has he killed your father yet? God willing we should be so fucking lucky.”

  “Mom.” After giving Samantha a warning look, Zoe led the way to the porch and unlocked the house. She handed Smoky to Hunter. “Boo Bear, go show our little friend where the kitty box is.”

  “Then I can make her kiss Tigger?”

  “Err, only if she wants to.”

  Excitement shining on his face, Hunter dashed toward the mud room.

  “That boy is too precious for words.”

  “Yes, he is.” Zoe squinted at her mom. “So I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t talk about killing his grandfather in front of him. Might be a tad awkward if he ever spilled that to his friends.”

  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.”