The Texas Tycoon's Baby(42)

She whispered, “So everything’s okay?”

He knew that she was asking about him and his dad. “Eli and I are going to settle in for a longer talk tomorrow, before the wedding. His driver had to get him back to the mansion early. A curfew is a condition of this weekend pass from rehab.”

Content, she rested her head on his shoulder.

He gripped her hand in his, tightening his hold on her hip, too. Her breathing spiked as heat banded every inch of her.

They weren’t doing the two-step anymore—they were lost in their own world instead. Through her lashes, she could see the cowboys and girls on the edges of the dance floor, watching them. It was mainly the women who had such poignant looks on their faces—the type Mina knew she used to wear whenever she would think about Chet, longing for him, wondering if her love for him would ever be noticed or come to fruition.

Then she saw Ally and Jeremiah on the dance floor, holding each other, too. As the bride-to-be met Mina’s gaze, she smiled, one woman in love to another.

A couple. Everyone seemed to be thinking that Mina and Chet were together, and she wanted to believe that with all of her soul.

She never wanted this dance to end, even as the notes swayed toward their inevitable finale, the music swelling, then fading off as everyone clapped.

As the band switched to a fast song, Mina glanced up at Chet, drawing away from him ever so slightly. They were still holding each other, as if he was just as unwilling to let go.

But their connection was broken when Tyler passed by, nudging Chet.

It only took an instant for Mina to see the reason.

Jeremiah was at the keg, and so was Eli.

Mina did a double take.

Eli?

Tyler joined his brother and dad, just as Chet cursed over the music, then headed over there, too, Mina’s heart going with him.



Jeremiah’s voice belted over the music as he burned a stare through Eli but addressed his brothers instead.

“Dad tells me that he wasn’t intending to get himself any beer. He was just standing here, watching the party.”

“It’s true,” Eli said, his aged skin going ruddy. “I wasn’t going to pour myself a drink.”

Tyler asked, “Then why were you standing by a keg, Dad?”

“I was just walking by. You have to believe me.”

Whether or not he was lying, Chet had heard this all before. So had Tyler and Jeremiah. And they knew that when Eli got called out and felt backed into a corner, it never turned out well.

And he’d thought tonight was a turning point.

Chet said, “You’re supposed to be in bed by now. That’s what you told me back at the restaurant.”

That stubborn bull-about-to-charge intensity heated up Eli’s gaze. “I just wanted to come here and be with my family for a short time. Is that too much to ask?”

Tyler grit his teeth. “Is it too much to ask for you to stick to your guns, Dad? You were doing so well at rehab.”

“And I’m still doing well, Ty.” He took off his hat, jutted out his chin. “Want to smell my breath to see if there’s any alcohol on it? Go ahead.”

They all glanced at the beer keg, where a ranch hand was watching them from beneath the brim of his hat while pouring himself a cup.

Chet couldn’t stand this farce anymore, and he took his dad by the shirtsleeve, thinking it’d be a good idea to get him away from temptation.

Eli resisted. “Hey—”

His face was so red that Chet let go of his shirt. He noticed that Mina had followed him over here, and she looked more devastated than he felt.

But why, when he was the one whose world was crashing, just when he thought it’d gone upright again?

Eli was breathing in and out, and Chet wondered if that’s what they’d taught him at rehab—exercises to calm himself.

Finally, he said, “I’m not a child who needs babysitting.”

Tyler shot another emphatic glance at the keg, expressing his doubt. Jeremiah just stared at the floor, shaking his head.

Eli looked to Chet, as if his third son was the only one who might believe him, even though he’d been the toughest one to win over.

“I’m telling the truth. You believe me, don’t you?”

Truth. Chet wanted to ask him the definition of it, because it sure seemed to be a different matter to the man who called himself his father.

Eli apparently lost all the fight he had left in him, his shoulders slumping again as he straightened his jacket, then his bolo, mustering his dignity.

It was those little gestures that made Chet think that maybe there was hope for Eli yet. That all he’d wanted to do was be near the son who was getting married tomorrow, to take part in a bit of the happiness the rest of the family was experiencing.