Not yet. Maybe not ever.
A silver Mercedes parked in front of his house caught his attention as he pulled into his driveway.
His stomach knotted at the same moment his heart leaped to his throat. He mentally reviewed the bills he had outstanding. He wasn’t delinquent on any of them, so it couldn’t be a bill collector. Besides, debt collectors didn’t drive Mercedes. Did they?
He climbed from his truck with stiff movements, never taking his gaze from the car. He paused in the act of closing the door when a familiar, slender redhead stepped from the passenger side of the Mercedes.
Austin froze. A chill raced down his spine and spread throughout his limbs.
The pretty woman with a perfectly made-up face and long copper-colored hair smiled and waved. Her lashes were so thick and long he could barely see her hazel eyes, but he didn’t need to see the color of her eyes to know they matched his sons’ perfectly.
“What are you doing here?” He forced the words out through a dry mouth.
“Hello to you, too.” Cheyenne sauntered toward him.
“Stop!” He held up a hand. “You don’t get to waltz back and pretend you didn’t destroy my—our lives.”
Cheyenne folded her arms over a chest at least two sizes larger than it used to be. “Come on, Austin. Don’t pretend you weren’t as miserable there toward the end as I was.”
“I was only miserable because you made my life that way.” His stomach churned as he recalled all the lies she’d told, knowing she was keeping secrets but unable to figure out the truth. Then finding out she’d been intimate with another man while still sharing his bed.
He swallowed the bile that filled his throat. Sucking in a sharp breath, he squared his shoulders. “I repeat, what are you doing here, Cheyenne?”
She huffed and propped a hand on her hip. “I want custody of the kids for a while.”
Heat rushed through Austin’s body. His gut constricted, and acid burned his esophagus. He stifled the urge to curse and slammed his truck door instead. “No. I have full custody. You agreed to that. You can’t expect to just show up and get something you don’t deserve.”
“I’m their mother, Austin.”
“You haven’t been their mother for the past five years. And you weren’t much of a mother before that.”
Cheyenne studied her ridiculously long fingernails. The move reminded him of Debbie. Except he could see the insecurity in Debbie’s posture whenever she did it. It was how she deflected when something made her uncomfortable.
For Cheyenne, it had always been a show of superiority.
“Come on. We can settle this like reasonable adults. If we get the lawyers involved, it’ll only get costly. Maybe even ugly.” The words sounded like a threat. “You don’t want to put the kids through that, do you?”
Cheyenne didn’t care one bit about putting the kids through an ugly custody hearing. She’d do whatever it took to get what she wanted. Just like she always had. And she was counting on Austin’s desire to protect his children to coerce him into going along with whatever she had planned.
The question was: What did she have planned? Why did she want the kids? He refused to believe Cheyenne had suddenly developed a maternal longing.
No, that kind of yearning made women jump into the pool without hesitation to save a little boy who tested and tried her patience again and again. Not subject them to an ugly custody hearing.
The driver’s door of the Mercedes opened, and an older version of Boise’s golden boy and all-star quarterback stepped out dressed in a charcoal power suit.
How dare he show up here?
Austin’s fists balled, and he clenched his jaw as he envisioned knocking out one of Tucker James’s perfect teeth.
No matter how badly he wanted to punch the man who tore his family apart, Austin was smart enough to know it would only cause him more problems. Actually, he should thank Tucker. Other than his financial situation, his life had been much more pleasant the last five years without Cheyenne than the previous twelve had been when he’d tried so hard to keep her happy.
Tucker wrapped an arm around Cheyenne and locked gazes with Austin. He gave a curt nod, which Austin ignored.
He stared at Cheyenne. Austin couldn’t afford a costly custody battle, but there was no way he’d let Cheyenne march in and upset their lives. “Sorry, I don’t give in to idle threats anymore.”
“Idle?” Cheyenne laughed. “If I sue for custody, Austin, who do you think will win?” She put a hand on Tyson’s chest. “Their mother and stepfather, who is a man of considerable means? Or their blue-collared father who can’t afford to rent anything better than this…dump.” She sneered as she pointed at the rental house they’d called home for the past nine months.
Perspiration stung Austin’s brow, and his mouth may as well be stuffed with cotton for how dry it was. He couldn’t lose his kids, especially not to this conniving woman. He resisted the urge to roll his neck and rub the tension from his jaw.
