Chapter 5

Chapter Five

D ear God, Austin prayed. Please let me get through today without totally geeking out about the fact that my son’s only friend in the world’s dad is the hot-as-fuck cover model for my hot-as-fuck books about a hot-as-fuck cowboy. If you could do this for me I would really appreciate it. And I would promise not to write any more kinky books, but it would totally be a lie because I have to pay my rent. Love Austin.

Dallas was so excited he’d already had an asthma attack this morning, causing his breakfast to come back up in a rush, and Austin was so tempted to cancel the whole thing.

When he even suggested it, the tears had started, of course, and they hadn’t been crocodile tears. No, they were real tears with snot.

So Austin figured this really meant something to his little boy.

“Do you think she’ll come, Poppy? Do you think she’ll really come?” Dallas gave him a worried glance.

“Well, son, she said she was going to be there. So did her daddy, so I would assume so.” How the hell did he know?

He did know that if they didn’t show up, Austin was going to get a tire iron out and say that he needed another cover shoot and then go beat the son of a bitch to death.

Before…after…something with pictures.

There had to be something with pictures first. The pictures had to come first.

God, he had a headache. He stopped and poured himself a big cup of coffee.

“It’s going to be fine, Dallas, don’t stress this. Why don’t you go put on your shirt?”

“I wanted to wear the red one.”

“Well, you threw up on the red one. Don’t you have another red shirt? I’m sure you have one more red shirt somewhere. In your dresser. Do you want help finding it?”

Dallas shook his head, frowned at him. “No, I can do it.”

“Well then do it. We have to leave in like five minutes.”

“We can still have pizza this afternoon, right? You won’t tell about the throwing up part.”

“No, you threw up because you were wheezing. It’s okay. You’re not sick. It’s just your asthma. Everything is fine. Go find your red shirt. Now. Please. Before I have a stroke.”

“Okay, I will. Thanks, Poppy. I love you.”

“I love you too, son.” Weird and wonderful and goofy and brilliant and not the most athletic and a little lost in a huge world—Austin adored his boy.

God, his life had changed in going on six years. He’d been with Christopher, then, and they’d decided to have a baby. Months of planning and hoping and expecting had built up, but it hadn’t taken long—a week?

Not even, maybe a few days, he couldn’t really remember now—before Christopher had seen this tiny, red-faced, struggling-to-breathe baby who already needed asthma treatments, and had said, “Man, I didn’t sign up for this. I knew about the sleepless nights, but this? I’m not, I’m not into this.”

Austin had thought, into what? Being a father, being a caregiver, being a human being? What exactly aren’t you into, you lousy piece of garbage?

At the time, he hadn’t even said it.

He’d been too tired, too scared, too overwhelmed. Not to mention too fucking pissed off. So he simply said, “Get your shit and leave.”

In fact, that was the only thing he had ever said to Christopher again.

Every single response he’d given to anything Christopher had said to him from that point on had been get your shit and leave .

And he’d meant it.

And he’d left, and that had been that. Now they were in a condo in Aspen rent-controlled by dint of the owner being a fellow author friend. And Dallas had a bestie.

Who had better show up at the trampoline park.

By the time Dallas found the shirt and got his shoes on, they were almost going to be late, so he texted the cowboy, just to make sure it was all going down.

On our way. We’re running a few minutes late.

He got back, Ditto. Paige wanted to wear her little dress and suede jacket, and I had to explain at length about trampolines and pants.

Austin snorted. Okay, he liked this guy’s way with words.

“In your car seat, buddy.” He strapped Dallas in and off they went.

It was an easy drive, and Dallas was in an amazing mood now. Ramped up from his inhaler and ready to go.

“You excited, bud?”

“Yes, sir, I am. I’m ready too. Did you know that Paige is a cowboy?”

He’d only heard it like forty-seven thousand times. “Really? Does she have a horse of her own?”

“She does, and so does her mama. Her mama has lots of horses. They are very fast. Her daddy rides horses that aren’t ride-y horses.”

“Yeah? Do you remember when I took you to the rodeo that one time?” So Mr. Hale was a bronc rider?

“Uh, it was dirty.”

“It was. Do you remember the poop on the bulls?”

He could see his little persnickety boy’s nose wrinkle. “Oh yeah, I don’t like it, Poppy, I don’t like poop.”

“I don’t think anybody does, honey. It’s sort of like a thing.”

“Did you ever want to be a cowboy, Poppy?”

He shook his head. “No, baby, all I’ve ever wanted to do is be a writer.”

“And that’s what you do. I think I want to make robots.”

He could see Dallas waving his arms in the rearview. “I think robots are cool. I think that would be fine.”

“Robot guys and cowboys, can they be friends?” Dallas asked.

“Anybody can be friends with anybody.” He really didn’t have a whole lot of friends who weren’t writers, but he did have friends, theoretically, who weren’t. That photographer friend. And a cover artist friend. Okay, so all of his friends were writers. Fine. But he wasn’t going to tell that to his son.

Dear, Dallas. I’m a giant dork and I live in a fantasy world like ninety-nine percent of the time, so I need friends who do the same otherwise I feel weird. Also, they understand my need for coffee and pajama pants. And late-night therapy sessions involving imposter syndrome. Somehow I doubt that Joe Blow Cowboy would be into that.

But he could be wrong. What did he know?

They parked, and he could immediately see the big duallie and the man with the cowboy hat. “Looks like they’re here, son.”

“Oh, yay!” Dallas started to struggle free of his harness .

“Wait for me, bud.”

“Hurry up, Pop!”

He chuckled, this enthusiasm so new. Usually if they went out, Dallas brought a book. Hell, so did he. They read together at the diner. Or they would go to the library.

This was better though. Dallas needed a friend. It didn’t escape him that his son had chosen the roughest, toughest cowgirl in the West.

But he supposed they called them clichés for a reason.

They met Kyler and Paige in the little entryway, and Austin had to force himself not to ogle again. It wasn’t even that the man was so hot, although he was oh-my-God-so-hot.

It was that Austin had seen way more of Kyler than was reasonable.

Not only that, but he knew how hot everything was in a three hundred pixels sort of way.

The simple fact was, in his head, that body belonged to Maverick Johnson, the hero of his series.

Not Kyler Hale, single dad.

The juxtaposition was too damn weird.

He was going to have to get over it, but that wasn’t going to happen today. Possibly not even tomorrow. “Hey, guys.”

Dallas ran to Paige. “Hey! You came! Are you ready to jump? We’re gonna jump. I love to jump.”

Austin gave Kyler a nod and kept his eyes above the jawline. “I promise I didn’t give him coffee.”

“You sure about that?”

“Pretty sure. This child and caffeine are not compatible under any circumstance. I also did not give him anything with maple syrup this morning for breakfast, because I am a kind and thoughtful human being who did not want to unleash his sugar monster onto the world.”

Kyler kind of gave him a raised eyebrow. “Paige had Lucky Charms. ”

Dallas stared at Paige. “No fair. You get Lucky Charms? Pop says no sugar cereal for me.”

“Only on special occasions. You know how sugar makes you. Besides, let’s go jump.” He didn’t want to have a discussion about weird food issues in front of the Marlboro Man.

It wasn’t that he was all oh, let’s be persnickety, it was more that he had a lot of work to do. And he really, really couldn’t handle Hyper Dallas.

Austin figured if he couldn’t handle that, then who could? Why should the teachers and the public have to deal with Hyper Dallas?

Dallas 2.0?

The Dallasator.

Dallaszilla.

Hmm. He liked it.

Dallas, the Eater of Worlds.

“Pop, where’d you go?”

He chuckled. “Sorry, Dallas.”

“Come on!” The kids ran to the front desk, and he and Kyler followed.

“How’s it going?” Kyler asked. It was very polite and oh so stilted. He got it. They had barely met, and while their kids were buds, they were adult strangers.

“Good. He’s been very excited.”

“Oh my God, so has Paige. She changed clothes a dozen times. We finally settled on her little stretch jeans so she didn’t show her damn underwear to the whole world.”

He broke out laughing. “I never thought of that sort of technical difficulty of having a little girl.”

Kyler handed over a debit card at the desk. “Yeah. It’s a thing. And like, riding a horse in a skirt? Chafing. Especially bareback.”

“Oh, dude…” That would suck .

“Yeah.” He got a wry grin. “But she wants to look good on occasion. I explained that her momma wears leggings under a skirt…”

“She’s close with her mom, you said.”

Kyler nodded. “Yeah. It’s nice. It’s good for all of us, you know. We’re not like…it wasn’t an ugly separation. Everything was on the up-and-up. We’re all happy.”

Lucky fucker. “That’s exceptional. Seriously. No bullsh—Baloney.” Austin rolled his eyes at himself. “Seriously though. I think that’s cool. I wish I could have had something like that, but that wasn’t in the cards.”

The kids took off their shoes, handed them over and took off like bats out of Hell, climbing up and jumping and jumping and jumping.

It was early enough that the bigger kids weren’t there, so there weren’t a lot of bullies. And they could play around and wear their butts out.

“So you do this every Saturday?” Kyler asked.

Austin found himself staring into the bluest eyes he thought he’d ever seen.

Honestly, they weren’t like this generic kind of smoky, someone-drew-a-blue-chalk-on-a-piece-of-concrete-and-smudged-it-out-and-that-was-the-color-that-was-left-behind-blue.

No. Kyler’s eyes were intense—almost as bright as something out of a video game or a science fiction movie. But not scary, not fake. They were real.

And it was unnerving and wonderful and he was going to write this. God, why had he made Maverick’s eyes brown and not blue?

It wasn’t fair. Shit, the man had asked him something.

“Yeah, every Saturday. It’s something physical that doesn’t stress him out. He likes it. The people are very nice. I can get some admin work done if I want to, or chat with people, people-watch.” It wasn’t spending time with Dallas, exactly, but he still felt like it was worth it. “As you can tell, my son is not particularly athletic.”

“Oh, he’s fine. I know lots of guys who look like him that are plumb famous. I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you.” Kyler chuckled. “I wanted to say thank you for inviting us today. It means a lot to Paige and me. She was a little bit worried about going to regular school, and apparently—from what I understand—she and her Dal have become the best of friends.” Kyler rolled those gorgeous eyes.

Be good! Pay attention.

“I have to admit, I’ve been so busy building house that she sits and talks at the dinner table, and I sit there sort of like a lump. Half the time these days, our dinner is whatever I can pick up at the drive-through.”

Okay. House.

There was an actual subject that they could discuss without him thinking weird thoughts. Yeah.

“Tell me about your house.”

“Well, I was damn lucky to inherit a little plot of land from my uncle. He always said he would leave it to me, and damn if he didn’t.” Kyler shook his head. “I’m also lucky that it’s in a horsey area, so no one has developed up around us.”

He nodded, thinking of some of the Roaring Fork areas he knew like that.

“So anyway, I got about thirteen and a half with improvements, so I’m building out a house with a few extra bedrooms and a nice big kitchen and a wraparound porch, and then we’ll have a barn and a workshop for me.” Kyler’s cheeks went dark pink under his tan. “I ramble on about it.”

“Dude! Ramble. I have a rent-controlled condo. It’s literally the definition of nothing special.” No self-deprecation, now. He worked for himself.

“Hey, in this valley, that says something.” Kyler grinned. “I don’t suppose they have coffee for very sadly in-need dads?”

“They have a fancy coffee shop, even. You want my discount card? You get punches for each coffee.” He loved their hazelnut lattes. That was his Saturday breakfast.

“Sure. What would you like? I’ll grab it for you.” Kyler seemed so easy in his skin.

“Just tell him it’s for Austin. They know.” His cheeks were burning as he dug the card out of his wallet and handed it over. “I’m sort of a regular. I’ll get the next one, promise.”

“No worries.” Kyler laughed as he walked away, and that gave him the view of the butt. Fans had written odes to this man’s ass. Literally poems about Kyler’s butt, even though they thought it was Maverick’s butt, or they thought of it as Maverick’s butt, and it wasn’t Maverick’s butt; it was Kyler’s ass, but it was still pretty fucking intense there in the jeans. Kind of amazing.

This wasn’t fair. He hadn’t been laid in six years. Six years almost . And yet here he was. With Maverick who was Kyler. At a trampoline park with their children. God was evil. And had a sick sense of humor. And personally, Austin did not approve.

Okay, that was a lie.

He approved a lot. There were five covers to the series of books Kyler was on. Butt. Hand holding the buckle. Amazing jawline and collarbone. Holding the hat with face shadowed. And then one that was a nice slice of the entire backside, top to bottom. Complete with broad shoulders and one firm, tight, little butt cheek.

Five covers, with five different fantasies. It had never occurred to him that he was going to have to interact with this person like a human being and not a fantasy photo.

“Pop, Pop, look at me! I’m jumping. I’m jumping.”

He nodded, glanced over, tearing his eyes away from said denim-covered heinie. “You are doing a good job, bud. Way to go, Paige. ”

That girl could jump. And she was damn fearless too, throwing herself up and down and all around like she had no concern about broken bones or sprained joints or messed up hair or broken glasses.

“Thank you!”

It was unnatural and kind of cool.

Kyler came back a few minutes later with coffees and some kind of bag of pastries. “Here you go. And I hope you’re okay with either an apple fritter or a chocolate croissant.”

“I can happily nom either one.”

“I’ve never met someone who says ‘nom’ out loud,” Kyler teased, those eyelines crinkling right up.

“Stick with me for more amazing word plays.”

“I’ll do that.” Kyler sat and opened the bag out like a plate, letting him choose which pastry he wanted, which was pretty chivalrous. Or whatever. And he needed to stop thinking that way, because Kyler’s ex was a woman.

Rule number one: do not lust after the straight dude.

Especially not the straight dude who had the cowboy thing going on who could absolutely, one hundred percent kick his butt. Because honestly? Butt-kicking? Really not in his list of skills.

Now if someone needed poison pen letters, he was a boss. You need someone to cut you short in a very carefully worded letter to the editor? He was the man.

“You wanna split them half and half?” Kyler asked him.

“Sure why not? I like them both.”

Kyler stared over at the kids while Austin was trying to mangle the pastries with the plastic knife that had all the sharpness of the wit of a blustering politician. “She seems like she’s having fun.”

“She does. I think they both are. There is some energy being expended up there. If only we could bottle it…” And there he proved he was a dyed-in-the-wool, dork single dad .

Because that was something middle-aged people said to one another when talking about young people. God.

He was going to have to start writing space operas where it didn’t matter that all of his references were meant for another generation.

Space operas or cozy mysteries.

Possibly greeting cards. He could totally rock a greeting card.

“I hear that. I think that about every little beast, animal or man, that I come across. If only they knew how much they were going to want that energy in a few years’ time, and yet here they are out there spending it like there were no lean times ahead.” Kyler’s tone was so wry.

“Well, I know it’s silly, but maybe we can hope for no lean times ahead.” Pollyanna much?

“Sure. Sure, why the hell not? I could go for no lean times.” Kyler grinned and winked at him. “I made some money on the rodeo circuit, but there have been…I mean, there were some real lean times back when I was starting out.”

He knew better than to ask if there was actual money to be made in the rodeo, because after all, that was what he did. He wrote about rodeo cowboys. To be fair, they were mostly naked, and usually what they were riding were not bulls or horses, but still, Austin had done his due diligence.

“So, did you ever get to go to the NFR?” See him show his knowledge.

“I did. I mean, I was low man on the totem pole, sitting right on the bubble, but I did. Now, Cheyenne? Denver? The big stock shows. Santa Fe… I did well at those events on a day-at-a-time basis.”

“Those are some big purses, right?”

“Yeah.” Kyler chuckled. “Enough to build a house. I still have to take odd jobs to cover the rent in town though.” Those cheeks went dark again .

“Hey, that’s a lot of cash. I get it. It’s a lot.”

Also, I’m the odd job. Me. Odd job.

“It is. But I’m happy with the progress. We’ll be in before the holidays and the weather gets bad.”

“That sounds lovely.” Trite, but he didn’t wince. He smiled and stuffed a bit of croissant into his mouth so he would shut up.

“It will be nice to get back to making saddles. That’s where I really want to put my time.”

“You’d said. That is cool as all get-out. That’s something that’s crazy unique.”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s a niche market for sure.” Kyler winced. “Careful, Paige! Don’t forget that some kids are smaller than you.”

Like mine , he thought, though Dallas was laughing like a loon.

“Sorry, Daddy!” She helped Dallas back up to standing. “Jump! Jump!”

Dallas bounced, grinning and waving his arms.

“Lord, they’re going to be sweaty.”

“Yes. But after pizza and a good old-fashioned Disney film? They’ll be exhausted.” And that was the goal.

“Sounds good. Just not Encanto , please. I have nightmares about that Bruno song.”

“Oh, lord. You know how many times he’s sung that? Right now he’s into Cars and Brave . He wants siblings.” Like he could afford that.

“So does Paige. She keeps saying how cool it would be to have a little sister to dress up.” Kyler rolled his eyes. “Like a doll. I swear, I was not prepared to raise a girl.”

“No? I lucked out—Dallas and I are two peas in a pod. So, barring his asthma and my weak ankles? We match up.”

“Oh, she’s a cowgirl, my daughter. But she’s pink and sparkly and just… She’s wild and wonderful and I wouldn’t give for her.”

He tilted his head. “Give what?”

Kyler blinked. “Anything. I mean, it’s an expression.”

“Oh.” That was a new one on him, and it was so going in a book. “Cool. I love that.”

Dallas came to him, sweat beaded on his face. “Pops, I need a drink, pretty please?”

“You bet, buddy.” He pulled a bottle of water out of his bag. That kept Dallas from trying to get a Coke or something.

“Thanks. Is there one for Paige?”

“Of course. I brought four.” He lifted the second bottle out and held it up.

“I’ll try to remember to bring stuff next time. I wasn’t sure if outside things would be allowed. Thank you.” Kyler took the water, then waved Paige over. “Come get a drink, kiddo.”

“You can bring in things, otherwise it would cost a fortune. No glass bottles. No food or drink on the play floor.”

“Got it.”

“I’ll be sure to fill you in on the rules from now on. I hate to be unprepared, so I don’t want you to have to be.”

“I appreciate it, man. I have a feeling we’ll have our share of play dates.” Kyler nodded to Paige, who was showing Dallas how to gargle words with the water. Then burp.

Dallas was giggling like a mad thing, staring at Paige with pure adoration.

Lord, that was adorable, and he hoped it didn’t crash and burn too fast. Paige was bright and athletic and chatty. She was bound to make girl friends pretty quick.

Still, Dallas needed practice at making friends, one way or the other. He wasn’t going to stress it too terrible hard.

“Okay, I wanna jump a little more.” Paige gave Dallas a hopeful glance. “We can go slower. ”

“I can do that.” Dallas beamed, then took her hand, and off they went.

“She’s a sweetheart.” Such a good little heart, to be so kind. “Thanks for bringing her out.”

“Hey, I just wanted to know where the good pizza was.” Kyler winked.

“Ah. We’re going to order and have it delivered. It’ll be easy for them to chill and relax.” He wished Dallas had a place outside to play, but he didn’t.

“Oh cool.” Kyler tilted his head. “They’re starting to droop.”

“Yeah, well, they’ve only expended like five billion calories.” He winked over it. Kyler. “There’s a method to my madness.” He raised his voice. “Yo, Dallas, you ready to have some pizza and watch movies?”

Dallas was red-cheeked and sweaty, and it was good because he was kind of worried there would have been an asthma attack or something after this morning’s scene. But no, he was doing great.

“I’m ready, Pop. Can we have pepperponies? Paige likes pepperponies on her pizza.”

“Sure.” He glanced over at Kyler. “Now that’s love, man, because. Dallas hates pepperoni.”

“Oh, maybe we should get a half cheese and a half pepperoni.”

“I think that that is the absolute wisest decision. You’ll have to think about what you take on your pizza. I figured I’d get one for each of us.” He personally was a chicken, pesto, and jalapeno pizza kind of guy. He would bet all of his pennies that was a little too queer for the cowboy. So he’d let the poor guy pick his own pizza.

His character Maverick took all the meats, no veg. Which was really very, very bad for your intestinal system, but not something one mentioned in romance novels so …

The kids both drank some more water, and then they headed out, children yammering together, two peas in a pod.

“Come on, let me give you the address to the house, in case we get separated.”

He texted their address.

“Can I ride with Paige, Pop?”

“Well, buddy, your car seat’s in the car. We’ll go separately, and then she’ll be there in just a second. It’ll be okay.” God help him.

“Yeah, I think that would be best, kiddo.” Kyler chuckled. “I like the barbecue chicken pizza if your place has one, or I’ll take the supreme.”

“You got it.” He was surprised at the easy veggie-accepting. He stuffed a very pouty Dallas into the car seat, waving as he headed out.

Kyler followed him easily, but didn’t ride his ass, which he approved of. In fact, he would feel comfortable with Dallas riding with the guy.

All in all, if Kyler wasn’t his cover model, well, he would be super pleased about this whole situation.