Bucking the Rules(65)

“The truth?” Peyton raised her head and looked at him with such hurt in her eyes, it killed him. “I thought you were just done with me, with the family. Her, I get. But me? Even Bea? The ranch? I thought you were just … too old to deal with a kid sister anymore. And Bea was still practically a baby. I thought you were sick of playing man of the house and wanted a fresh start, damn whoever it hurt.”

It needled him that she wasn’t entirely wrong, when he stepped back to look at his feelings. While staying with Sylvia had no longer been even remotely possible, he also hadn’t been ready to carry the burden of the ranch, of his sisters, of the family’s well-being.

And that shamed him. “I left you with her. The whole time, it never occurred to me that while I was saving my own hide, I left you behind.”

Peyton huffed out an unsteady breath. “Yeah, well … at least I didn’t have anyone groping me.”

There were other violations, like trust and safety, she’d endured instead.

“I’m sorry. I was an adult, and I should have put my feelings aside and stuck it out.”

Peyton stretched her neck, then her arms. “Hardly. You couldn’t have made her change, couldn’t have kicked her off the property, and couldn’t have taken us with you. So in the end, not much would have been different. We would have been stuck and you would have, too. Your getting out was probably what saved us all.”

“How do you figure?” Relieved she didn’t seem to harbor intense anger about it, he settled a little.

“I stopped hoping you would step up and did it myself.” She shot him a quick grin. “Lazy ass.”

“Management was your style, not mine. Daddy’s desk looks good with you behind it.” And it was true. Trace loved to ride, loved to work with the horses, but in the end he wasn’t a businessman. Haggling the price of a horse wasn’t the same as running a ranch, and Peyton was ready to do both.

“So.” Peyton blew a piece of hair out of her eyes, tucked it behind her ear. “Now that we’ve had our little heart to heart, I have one more question.”

“Anything.”

“Who’s Seth’s mom?”

“Anything but that.” He stood quickly, afraid the openness he felt would reveal his one other shame and he’d let it all flood out. A man could only take so much kumbayah for one day. “Speaking of, he’ll be getting up from his nap soon.”

“Off you go, Daddy Dearest.” Peyton waved at him, already engrossed with her computer. Probably adding up the astronomical figures of Flint’s offer, and how far out of Sylvia’s hole it would dig them.

He accepted the dismissal and bounded up the stairs, hearing Seth the closer he got to the top. Turning to the left, he entered the nursery and just stood, watching his son babble to himself and play with his toes in his crib. Safe and sound, perfect and pure.

“Well, little man, looks like we’ve got some work ahead of ourselves.” He walked over and picked Seth up, taking him to the changing table. “Our little run-in with Ms. Jo earlier didn’t go so well.”

Seth batted at his father’s sleeves as he changed the diaper.

“Somehow, we’ll figure this out. I mean, how can she resist a pair of handsome Muldoon men? It would be downright criminal, wouldn’t it?”

Seth whimpered a little, a sure sign he was hungry for a snack.

“You can think of your stomach at a time like this? Well, I suppose that’s natural.” With a final snap of the onesie, Trace picked Seth up and headed back down the stairs for some puffs and Cheerios. “First, food. Then, women.”

It was the natural course of things.





Jo wiped the bar again, for the twentieth time, before she caught herself at the mindless task and put the rag away. At this rate, she would have to refinish the bar top from all the abuse. But her mind wasn’t in the game. She wasn’t sure if she should be happy with the slow night, so her stupidity wouldn’t be on display for that many people, or wishing for a busy night so her mind wouldn’t have a chance to wander.

Two days. Two days with nada from Trace. Was this his version of the brush-off? His way of saying, “Now you know, so we’re done.” Or was he biding his time, figuring out his own move, and would slink back in to apologize somehow?

And more to the point … did she want the apology? Or the space?

A smooth breeze washed over her and she watched Jeff walk through the door.

Great. Just what her confused mind needed … a night when she had to watch every word she said. Pray God the kid didn’t start getting ideas again.