The boys are okay. I just put them to bed. We had to evacuate the apartment. That’s why I didn’t answer. We’re staying at a friend’s house. You can talk to them in the morning.
My stomach feels queasy. I hear a knocking on the front door as soon as I set the phone down. Eden perks up before looking down at her book again. I move to answer it, my heart twisting with the knob when I see Duke on the other side through the window. I pull open the door.
He looks … exhausted. His eyes are wide and bloodshot, his black hair mussed. There’s a stain on his gray T-shirt. He licks his lips when he sees me, his eyes sweeping over me like he’s checking for open wounds. Oyster, the yellow ranch Lab, is panting at his feet, staring up at me with his tongue hanging out of his mouth.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey.” I cross my arms over my chest when a cool breeze moves over me and my nipples perk up.
He opens his mouth, then closes it. He’s holding a Tupperware, which he extends out to me.
“It’s chili. I didn’t know if you … if y’all had time to eat before …”
I blink in surprise, staring down at the food. My stomach rumbles as I take it. Then he hands over a reusable grocery bag.
“Snacks. Just some extra stuff we had.” He licks his lips again, and I notice him swallowing.
“Thank you,” I manage, feeling an indescribable urge to throw my arms around his neck.
“You’re welcome. Are you … are they okay?” He shifts in his boots, shoving his now-empty hands in his pockets.
I almost let the tears fall then. They threaten to come out, to spill down my cheeks like a dam breaking.
But then I see the headlights speeding down the driveway toward us, and my throat dries up because I recognize that truck.
Fuck, he must have been tracking my location this entire time.
12
DUKE
“Oh my God,” Dallas whispers. She sets the food down on the rocking chair.
I manage to tear my eyes away from her just in time to see the red Chevy truck pulling up, halting to a stop right before rear-ending her car. The door opens, and a man steps out, slamming it shut.
He stalks up to the porch, his dark, beady eyes raking over her before meeting my gaze. He slows, his footsteps faltering for a moment. Then his jaw sets, and he keeps stalking toward us.
I instinctively step in front of Dallas, shielding her. This must be the ex. The man is shorter than me by at least five or six inches. The undeniable urge to clench my fists and see what his facial bones feel like surges through me. Instead, I cross my arms over my chest.
“Can I help you?” I ask him.
Who the fuck does he think he is, showing up on my ranch like this?
We must have left the gate open after Dallas came in. He clenches his fists and lifts his chin. His eyes flicker from me to Dallas before landing back on me.
“Who are you?”
I’m the man who’s going to beat your sorry ass if you don’t get off my fucking ranch.
“Duke Redford.”
“Hmm,” is all he says.
“Would love to know the name of the man I’m going to be putting in the hospital,” I drawl.
Dallas gasps behind me.
His face reddens. “What did you just say to me?”
