I winced at the thought. “Okay, fine, as long as it’s not bloody.”

  I felt there were things Baker and Granny were holding back, but I opted not to press. They were right. I did want Dahn to know this way of life, the good and the bad. I also wanted to protect him from the ugly though.

  “Nope, no blood. And then the steer or wether can be shown at the fair,” Baker said around a bite of yolky toast.

  “A wether is a castrated male goat,” Dahn informed me. “I think I want to show one at the Bastian County Fair in August. Can I show one, Dad? Baker said he knows a lot about showing, and there are groups in town with kids that show and know ranching. Can I join one of them?”

  “Sure, I don’t see why not. But that will have to happen after I get back from seeing what your dad wants.” Dahn nodded and started talking goats with Ford. I smiled at Granny as my mind leaped into what on earth was so damn important my ex couldn’t tell me in a text or a phone call. The asshole had told me he was disillusioned with our marriage via text. Surely this, whatever it was, could have been delivered in that same tasteless way. Sometimes I swore exes just did shit to get your goat.

  ***

  Sacramento hadn’t changed much since I lived and worked here.

  Oddly enough, though, it felt smaller, more cramped, too full of cars and people. A side effect of living on a ranch with thousands of acres where the only other faces you saw were family, cows, and horses. Oh, and goats. How dare I omit the goats my son loved so deeply? Sitting in a booth at a trendy eatery on J Street, I watched the crush of humanity moving past as I waited patiently for Chris. I hoped he would be alone. Thankfully, he was. I spied him entering the sports bar slash restaurant. In all honesty, he was hard to miss. Six feet four, two hundred fifty pounds of hard muscle. Hair so blond it was almost white, eyes as blue as the pressed Levi’s I was wearing, and a smile I had built for him out of the purest of love. Free of charge, obviously. His dimple flashed as he flirted with table after table of fans.

  This was why he always ate out at sports bars. The people there knew him. Nothing twisted his nuts more than entering a busy place and no one fawning over him. I sighed at the ten-minute wait for him to move a hundred feet from the door to our table.

  “Hey,” he said as a greeting. “You look good. Less mealy.”

  Cool. Great way to open a conversation. “Thanks. I’ve been taking anti-mealy pills.”

  He sat back in his seat, arms folded, as he tried to mentally work out if I was being serious or not. “I’m kidding, Chris. There is no such thing. I’m just a little more tanned than I was before as I’m outside working all the time now and not in a dental office.”

  “Oh, so you’re starting off this meeting by trying to make me feel stupid.”

  I bit down on the inside of my cheek before replying. “No, I’m not trying to make you feel anything. Can we just get to why I had to fly all the way here for a conversation that could probably be had over the phone?”

  “See, this is what always pisses me off about you. The last time I did something important via text, you ripped me up one side and down the other. Now I invite you out to a nice place to eat to have a big talk, and that’s wrong. I never could figure out how to make you happy, Dodge.”

  JFC. Okay, yes, he had me on the ass reaming about asking for a divorce via text. That was true. “Right, sorry, you’re making an effort.” He nodded and then asked a passing waiter for a sparkling water with lemon and a martini for me. I cocked a brow. A martini. For lunch. Whatever this talk was about must be a humdinger if he’s getting me a cocktail beforehand. “So, what is it you want to talk about?”

  “Can’t we just have a nice lunch first? You’re always so uptight, Dodge.” He flashed that million-dollar smile at a couple of dude bros at the table beside us. His attention came back to me after they exchanged a few fist bumps. “Topher said to say hello.”

  Should I be a dick or be polite? “That’s nice. I hope he’s doing well with his salamander breeding business.”

  “Well, it’s more of a hobby right now, but he’s seriously thinking of trying to import some European salamanders, but he’s run into some issues.”

  “Importing any kind of animal is always dicey,” I commented simply to try to sound as if I cared about the world of salamander breeding for profit. Was there really a high market for salamanders in California?

  “Tell me about it.” Our drinks arrived. Chris asked for menus and returned his gaze to me. “So part of the reason I wanted to talk to you was about the salamander problems but also to tell you I just signed a contract with ELF.”

  I had no damn clue. “You’re going to play an elf?” He had always had big dreams of breaking into film, but he had zero acting skills.

  “No, Christ, Dodge, I’m not playing a damn elf. I signed on to play in the European Football League with a Spanish team. Spanish from Spain, not Mexico.”

  “I assumed that since Mexico isn’t in Europe,” I replied, pleased my mouth was still making rational speech since my brain was stalled out on him signing to play football. “I have to ask why they signed you. No offense, but you’re forty-two years old, Chris.”

  That got his feathers ruffled. I sort of knew it might but the truth is the truth. The man was in good shape, yes, maybe even great, but he was in his forties.

  “They signed me because they saw I still had the drive and passion to play. Why are you always looking for ways to bring me down, Dodge?” He snarled, pulling looks from the dude bros beside us. “Topher never does that. He’s always thrilled with anything I do. That’s why our marriage broke up. You always putting me down.”

  I sighed wearily. “Chris, I did not fly all the way out here to have you throw the same old tired bullshit at me. Our marriage failed because you grew bored. Just like you do with everything in your life.”

  He rolled his eyes. Someone in the corner laughed loudly. I wish I had not been so accommodating to this peckerwood. Peckerwood. That was a Granny word. I’d have to thank her for expanding my vocabulary in such a colorful way.

  “Whatever. I do not get bored of things.” He huffed. Seriously, the man was on the same level as Dahn at times, and that was not a jab at my son. Dahn was ten. Sulking was to be expected at that age. At forty-two? “So, Topher and I will be moving to Spain in a month.”

  That one knocked me back a bit. “In a month?”

  “Yeah, I need to get settled in our villa and on the field. They’re halfway through their schedule already.” Excitement flowed off him as he prattled on about how he was going to dominate the league and lead Madrid to a championship. Which, yeah, doubtful, but he was bubbly over this chance. “So, I think this might be a problem when it comes to visitation for Dahn.”

  “You think?” I asked way more sharply than I had intended. “Nice of you to at least think of your son after you made the decision and bought a villa.”

  “Yeah, I know. I think about him a lot.” Pfft. My ass he thought about him a lot. “So, after talking it over with Topher, I think I’m going to hand over sole custody of Dahn to you.” My mouth fell open. “Yeah, I knew you’d be excited. He’s not going to want to fly to Spain all the time to see me, and with my summer schedule spent playing, I’m not going to be able to take time to come back to the States to see him. Then there’s the whole point Topher made about his salamanders. Seems there are some really pretty ones in Spain. Also, you know, Topher never really liked Dahn touching his lizards and shit, so Topher will be much happier without having to remind Dahn to not touch the lizards.”

  “Okay, before I come totally apart here, salamanders are not lizards, Chris. They’re amphibians. Seems you would at least know that about the pets the love-of-your-life-until-you-get-bored-of-him keeps.”

  “Hey, I love Topher,” he snapped back.

  “Right, just like you loved me, and Phil before me, and Allen before him. And hey, I know some people don’t mature enough to be able to maintain an adult relationship as tiny minds grow restless. I’ve seen this with you over and over again, but I never thought you would be so fucking shallow as to grow apathetic about your own son!”

  “I’m not apathetic about him. I just think he would be happier with you. Do you want me to take him to Spain?”

  “No, of course not, but I can’t help but think this is just you tossing aside something you thought would be cool and fun but didn’t hold your interest. Children aren’t like the Star Wars cards you collected for two years then grew bored of. Or the Marvel statuettes you collected for a year and then sold off when you were tired of them. Or the Looney Tunes phase you went through. I could go on and on, but I’m too fucking pissed and upset to name every damn thing you swore was your life’s devotion only to go ‘Blah’ when you wanted to find something new to move onto. What a pathetic shit you are to do this and not even discuss it with him!”

  “Hey, first off, would you lower your voice?” His gaze ping-ponged around the bar as most eyes were on us now. Good. I hoped these jock-adoring fools got a good earful of what their idol was really like. “Second, he’s a kid. Why would I discuss it with him? It’s my life. And I want to play ball in Spain and help Topher raise lizards.”

  “They’re amphibians, you asshole. Jesus H. Christ, what the hell did I ever see in you? You’ve been running me through the fucking wringer the past few months. Fighting me over allowing Dahn to spend the summer at the ranch while you and your twinky boy Topher were planning to move out of the country. I had to pay for background checks on everyone at the ranch to placate you. What the hell was that even about if you cared so little about Dahn as to do this to the boy?”

  “Dodge, you’re making a scene. I’m talking to you about it. Dahn will be fine. He can come over next summer or something. Oh no, he can’t. Topher would have to watch him, and he doesn’t really like kids all that much. We’ll talk on the phone. He’ll be fine. It will all be fine.”

  I stared at him. Who was this man, and why had I wasted so many years of my life with him? What a selfish prick!

  “Fine, yes, good. I’ll be happy to take sole custody. I’m going to go speak to my lawyer now since I’m four blocks from his office. I hope you and Topher enjoy Spain. Oh, and you can have my martini.”

  I threw the cocktail in his face, rose, and stalked out amid gasps of shock from the patrons. My fury did not abate during my impromptu meeting with the attorney who had represented me in the divorce and had handled the shared custody. He assured me he’d have things worked out in no time since Chris was signing over his rights to custody. It would involve some petitions to the court as well as a judge issuing a new court order granting me sole custody, but he would file the petition today. If I had to fly back to California, I would gladly do so.

  I was still as mad as a wet hen, to quote Baker, when I arrived back at the airport in Oklahoma several hours later. Seated behind the wheel of my new used truck, I glanced back into the seats of the extended cab as I tore down back roads in the dark. Candy wrappers were blowing around in the back, my son’s handiwork. Thinking of Dahn, and how I could explain his other father’s behavior, fired up all the hateful hurt I had inside of me for my own deadbeat dad. Cashman Bastian had walked out on four sons, leaving us all feeling that we’d not been good enough. How could we be when he merrily went on to make a new family in some other part of the country and have new kids? And now my son, my sweet boy, was going to be subjected to the same abandonment issues that Baker, Linc, Ford, and I had suffered. I generally wasn’t a violent man, but right now, I was so irate that if Chris stepped out into the road, I would not swerve. I’d floor it. The engine revved as I pressed the gas pedal down harder.

  The sudden WHOOP-WHOOP of a siren acted like a bucket of ice water over the head. I glanced at the speedometer and was shocked to see I was running at seventy-five. Easing back off the gas, the flash of red-and-blue lights in my rearview cooled my jets even more. Why the hell not? Not like much else could go wrong today…

  2

  Chapter Two

  “Fuck,” I mumbled while easing off the two-lane leading into Bastian Grange. Great. Why not? A speeding ticket would be just the perfect way to end this miserably shitty day. I watched as the lone police vehicle rolled up behind me, roof lights rotating, and someone exited the old Jeep. My sight latched onto Ollie Ahoka as he placed his hat on his head and then began the slow walk to my car. I drank him in. The man filled out that dark brown uniform to perfection. He was a tall drink of water, built like the ex-footballer he was, and possessed of the most rugged jawline I had ever laid eyes on. The sight of handcuffs hanging from his belt made me itch to be frisked.

  I smelled his woodsy cologne just before he bent down to rest his forearm on my open window. Dark eyes ran over me, seated behind the wheel, looking guilty as sin I was sure. I was shit at lying, always had been.

  “Mr. Bastian.” Ollie’s voice was as deep as a canyon.

  “Sheriff Ahoka,” I replied in my most polite dentist way. He smiled at me. Not a smug “Ha, I got you” smile but one that made my dick twitch. “Whoever did your crowns is quite good.”

  Yep, that’s great. Let’s talk dentistry with the cop who just pulled you over. Maybe we can discuss gingivitis next. That’s always a party-pleasing topic.

  “Why thank you, Mr. Bastian, but these are mine.”

  “Oh, well, you have wonderfully strong enamel.”

  Oh my God, Dodge, stop talking dental shit and just get your ticket, go home, and try to figure out how to tell your son his father is leaving the country, and him, behind.

  “Yeah, it’s something I inherited. My dad and uncle both have all their teeth as did my grandfather when he passed at ninety-two.”

  “Impressive.”

  “We like to think so. So, do you know why I pulled you over? Other than the fact that I wanted to discuss oral health and tooth enamel genetics with a handsome man this evening?”

  Now here was the moment I could either lie or tell the truth. If Dahn were here…well, if my son were here, I wouldn’t have been racing down the road like a maniac, so that point was moot. But it was moments like this that highlighted what kind of man I was.

  “Yes, sir, I was doing seventy-five in a forty-five,” I replied, knowing that no one other than myself and Sheriff Sexy Pants would know I took the honest route.

  “That you were. You also have a taillight out.” Oh shit. I didn’t know that. “Any particular reason you were traveling at such a high rate of speed coming into my town?” He seemed genuinely curious.

  “Well, I had a really shitty day and was lost in thought while driving. I did not realize I had reached that speed until your sirens went off.” I opted out of telling him I was fantasizing about running my ex-husband down. Even being an honest sort, it seemed wiser to sit on that little nugget. “I’m fully prepared to pay the fine and assume the burden of any points on my license. I was being reckless, and someone could have been hurt.”

  “Good to hear. Is everything okay out at the ranch?” His query surprised me.

  “Yeah, as far as I know, things are fine out there. This was a personal situation that had me so distracted. My ex is being a dick.”

  “Ah. Gotcha. I’ve had my share of exes who were assholes. Here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to cite you for the taillight that’s out and give you a stern warning about speeding as you approach town. I want to see you and your vehicle at the sheriff’s office within five days about the taillight.”

  “Oh, that’s generous of you.” I was not going to argue. “Thank you.”

  “Next time, I will ticket you. Also, five days to get that fixed. Don’t make me come looking for you. I do know where you live.”

  “I’ll be there with a new taillight. Thanks again, Sheriff.”

  He studied me for a long moment. “Call me Ollie and be careful driving home. Distractions can kill a person.”

  “Yes, thank you, Ollie. I’ll pay better attention.”

  “Good. I’d like to see more of you.” With that, he straightened, patted my door, and moseyed back to his Jeep as my sight locked onto his ass. God damn. What a fine-looking man he was! I sat there, hands on the wheel, and waited for him to pull away. He flashed his lights. I crept away from the side of the road like a nun and slowly made my way through Bastian Grange as the streetlights were just flickering to life. After Ollie tailed me for a bit, he pulled into a reserved spot in front of the sheriff’s office. I never topped twenty until I was way outside the city limits, and even then, I stayed well below the speed limit. Good thing too as a whitetail doe with two spotted fawns bolted out in front of me about ten miles from the ranch.

  It seemed to take forever for me to get home, but when I did, I was never so happy to see the old farmhouse. The lights were on inside as the sky overhead was filling with stars. I took a moment to watch the heavens, wondering what the hell I would say to Dahn. It would require some thoughtful insight. My son’s laughter floated through the screens. Smiling despite the rotten day, I made my way inside. They were all gathered in the kitchen.

  “Dad! We’re making ice cream!” Dahn yelled even though I stood literally five feet away. His dark brown eyes were joyous. Bella was taking her turn on the old hand-crank ice cream maker. “We’re using goat milk and peaches! And salt on the ice, and everyone has to crank one hundred times. If you don’t crank, you don’t get ice cream, right, Uncle Baker?”

  “Yep,” Baker replied from the corner where he was nursing a cup of coffee.

  “That sounds amazing. I better get a few cranks in,” I teased, stepping up to take over from Bella. Granny gave me a brisk nod as I got to churning. It was kind of cathartic. I could take out my frustrations with Chris on this beat-up ice cream maker.

  After a few hundred more turns on the old machine, the ice cream was ready. We all got monkey dishes that we admired loudly. Dahn followed me and Baker outside, sitting on the floor of the front porch as we ate our treats. Bella and Lincoln were inside with Ford and Granny, setting up a card table for a rousing game of Monopoly after ice cream.