“I wanted a night out. What did you do?”
He rubbed his chin. “I went out to dinner.”
Her lips curved. “Alone?”
He smirked. “No, and that’s all you need toknow.”
“Oh, come on, Dad. If you’re seeing someone, why not tell me?”
He sighed, shoulders sagging. “Because I don’t know where it’s going, and I don’t want you or Tyler breathing down my neck if it fizzles.”
“Fair enough.” She opened the door and slipped out.
The car’s engine rumbled to life, its low, steady thrum a reassuring heartbeat that slowed the gallop of her nerves as she guided it down the gravel drive toward her brother’s house. The late-afternoon light slanted through pines, turning the two-story log home at the end of the lane into a glowing silhouette. She parked, resting her palm on the cool leather of the steering wheel, closing her eyes to summon courage. Then she slipped out, boots crunching on the stones, climbed the wide steps of the porch, and lifted her hand to knock, each rap ringing against the heavy wooden door.
Tyler opened it almost instantly, his broad shoulders framed by the fading daylight. A friendly grin curved his lips, one hand tucked casually into the pocket of faded jeans. “Hey, sis. Come on in.”
The faint scent of pine greeted her. “Thanks,” she said, her pulse still drumming in her ears. She shifted her gaze toward the soft glow of the rec room beyond. “Is Ellie ready?”
He shook his head. “She’s in there, watching a movie with the kids. But hey, you’re not in a hurry, right?”
Ava’s throat tightened. “No. Actually… I need to talk to you.”
His grin faltered. Tyler’s gaze sharpened. “Aboutwhat?”
“Can we go to your office?”
She followed him past the rec room, where the muted murmur of dialogue and the occasional burst of laughter rippled through the doorway. The scent of buttered popcorn drifted out as Tyler led her down the hall. He opened a solid oak door that closed behind them with a muted click. The office was spacious, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined one wall, a polished mahogany desk sat centered on a braided rug, and two high-backed leather chairs faced each other across its gleaming surface.
Ava sank into one of the wingback chairs, the rich upholstery soft against her palms. Tyler pulled the leather chair up, settled behind the desk, and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the smooth wood. When she remained still, he lifted an eyebrow. “You said you needed to talk to me.”
Her pulse thundered in her temples. She smoothed her shirt and pressed her palms into her knees. “I do… I’m just scared of your reaction.”
Relief softened his features. “Ava, you should never be scared to tell me anything.”
She drew in a shaky breath, voice barely more than a whisper. “Deacon Anderson is Ellie’s father.” The name spilled out, weighty as a confession.
Tyler’s jaw clenched, veins rising at his neck. His blue eyes narrowed, disbelief flickering like embers. “I’m sorry… Agent Deacon Anderson from MDOL is Ellie’s father?” The question throbbed low and tense.
She nodded, bracing herself. “Yes—”
He sprang up so fast his chair rolled back into the bookshelf with a soft scrape. His voice rose, echoing off the dark wood shelves. “And he didn’t want anything to do with her?”
“I lied about that,” she blurted. “He didn’t know she existed until he came here about the cattle and saw me.”
Tyler wheeled his chair forward, plopped down, and ran a hand through his hair. “Ava, why would you lie to us about that?”
“Because I knew you and Dad would have ripped me apart for not telling him.” She closed her eyes. “At the time, Deacon and I… we only had one night together. We lived miles apart, and with his job—” She shook her head. “I was embarrassed to admit I’d had a one-night stand.”
He clenched his fist on the desk. “What the hell were you thinking? He could’ve been any man. You didn’t know him.”
She leaned forward, voice steadier. “I have good instincts, Tyler. We didn’t just jump into bed; we had dinner, talked for hours. It wasn’t random.”
Tyler snorted, exasperated. “Oh, that makes it so much better, doesn’t it?” He ran fingers through his hair again, eyes dark. “You knew the risks.”
“We used condoms,” she snapped, hurt flickering in her eyes. “Condoms aren’t foolproof.”
“Maybe not, but they work more than they fail,” he shot back. “You just had to be the unlucky exception.”
