Desert Ice Daddy Marton, Dana (most motivational books .TXT) 📖

eyes that reflected the essence of each. Gary’s gaze was hazy, anger deepening the lines of his face, his mouth set in a leer, his chest puffed out. Akeem’s stance conveyed effortless power, his gaze holding concern for her as he glanced back.

She put on her “I’m fine here” smile. One dark eyebrow slid up his forehead, but then he nodded again as if to say “As you wish” and kept going.

She closed the door behind Gary the second he stepped over the threshold. Just in time.

“Who the hell is that? Your new boyfriend? What is he, Mexican? Ain’t there a border patrol looking for him someplace?” He laughed at his own joke, smelling of cigarette smoke and beer.

“One of Flint’s friends. Just trying to help.” She backed into the room, putting a small table between them that held a handful of flyers for the next open day at the ranch, and two coffee mugs that had been left out. When the alarm had been raised about Christopher being missing, everyone had rushed out to help.

“The pigs in the kitchen say Chris is still missin’. Shouldn’t have never let you take ’im. What in hell was more important than watchin’ my boy? Playing with your Mexican friend?”

She knew better than to respond to his accusation when he was like this. Her gaze landed on the mugs. “I’m making coffee. Would you like some?”

He took a step forward, none too steady on his feet.

When had he changed from the charming, full-of-life rodeo cowboy to the bitter man he was now, one who regularly got drunk by noon? Once upon a time, he’d been her knight in shining armor, or so she’d thought.

He’d dazzled her with his larger-than-life personality, his outrageous courting and endless promises. Having just inherited money from his father, he’d shown her a side of life she had never known. He’d showered her with gifts and attention when Flint was one hundred percent focused on building a business out of nothing, and Akeem, the man she had a major crush on, always kept himself frustratingly out of reach.

Gary had introduced her to the fast life, and they had been happy for a while. By the time she figured out that they weren’t as much in love with each other as they’d thought, Christopher was on his way. Then Gary had run out of his father’s money and had no idea how to make more. The drinking began. When Flint had become more and more successful, the demands for her brother’s money started. And when after a while she refused, hatred and verbal abuse followed. Then more.

“I miss you, you know,” he said with drunk melancholy and walked around the table, put on that rodeo cowboy smile that used to make her heart beat faster, flashed those strong teeth.

She turned to the coffeepot, hoping some caffeine would sober him up.

“If your brother helped us, we could make it together. We should try again, babe.” He pressed against her back and put his hands on her waist. “We could make that little girl you wanted.”

She slipped out of his hold, away from the stench of stale beer on his breath. “Why don’t you sit down? I’ll get you a cup.”

He followed her to the cupboard, looked around. “We can even live here, if you want to be close to your family. Flint would put up a decent house for you if you asked.”

Here we go again. She put the dirty dishes into the sink in the corner and set the two clean cups on the table. If Gary was willing to move to the ranch, that meant he must have run up enough debt to have to worry about losing his house. She felt sorry for him, but she knew now that she couldn’t help him. God knew, she had tried. Truth was, nobody could help him until he was ready to help himself, until he was willing to acknowledge his problems.

Gary didn’t want help to kick his beer habit. All he wanted was money. Flint’s money, to be more specific.

“I know you miss me, babe.” He grabbed her from behind and crushed her to his chest, dipping his mouth to her neck.

His touch was…irritating. She had trouble remembering a time when it had made her feel anything but disappointed that she had fallen for his seduction in the first place. She’d been young and naïve. Time had cured her of both those problems.

She pushed away, had to put effort into working herself loose. She turned to make sure he would see in her eyes how serious she was. “We’re divorced, Gary. I’m not coming back.”

“Why the hell not?” Anger melted the smile off his face. “You screwing someone else?” His voice rose. “That Mexican?”

She tamped down her anger and frustration. She so didn’t need this right now.

“I was generous letting you have the boy.” His blue eyes flashed. “But you ain’t takin’ too good care of him. Maybe when they find him, I’ll take him home with me.”

Her heart clenched, a brand-new wave of fear obliterating all other emotion. She’d been given sole custody, but only because Gary agreed. If he brought it to a fight…

She would smile if it killed her. “Please.” She tried to placate him, the role she’d grown into over the years.

And not for the first time, she considered that maybe she should have been fighting all along. Maybe she should be yelling back that he’d given up Christopher only because he didn’t feel like taking care of him. He didn’t want to be staying home instead of hitting the bars, didn’t feel like giving up his beer money to support his son. But she had, from the beginning, always chosen the path of backing down, of accommodation, because giving Christopher a home with as much peace and normalcy as possible had always been her first priority. So she had compromised, had put on a good face and covered up for Gary as much as she’d