by Dahlia West
She grinned at him and climbed up over him again. Finally, she gripped his shaft and guided it into her pussy. Dalton held onto her hips as she rode him, her sweet, swollen belly right in his vision. God, she was beautiful.
Zoey may have had mercy on him and decided to let him cum in her pussy, but he could see she hadn’t quite given up the game. The race was on to see who would finish first. She reached down to touch her clit, but he smacked her hand away. “That’s cheating,” he told her. He held her hands to make it fair as he drove into her over and over until his sac drew tight and he felt the familiar tingle. His load pumped straight up into her. He couldn’t tell if she was coherent enough to know she’d lost.
Having mercy on her, he let go of her hands and rubbed her himself. As the last of his load subsided, Zoey came hard and he imagined her squeezing the rest of it out. She finally collapsed beside him, gasping for air. Dalton caught her wrist and pulled gently. Though she was exhausted, she slowly made her way to him once more. She cuddled against him, her belly pressed against his hip and her rested head on his shoulder. Dalton held her tight, not ready to let her go. This was the old Zoey, the fun, adventurous woman he’d fallen in love with. And for the first time in a long time, he felt like the old Dalton. He rested his hand on her belly.
Old Zoey, Old Dalton, New Baby. His baby, he decided. And he’d fight like hell to keep it. They were a family and Dalton knew exactly what you were supposed to do when it came to your family.
Chapter Twenty-Six
In the morning, Dalton woke while it was still dark. He lifted the sheets and tried to slide out of bed without waking her. He was unsuccessful, though. Zoey’s hand reached out, grasped his arm and drew him back. He turned to look at her.
She smiled, but her eyes were closed. “Stay. It’s Sunday. Let’s just stay here all day.”
“I can’t.”
The corner of her mouth lifted into a sexy grin. She opened her eyes and looked at him under her lashes. “I can think of some stuff for us to do.” She yawned. “Later, though. Much later. Let’s sleep a little longer.”
“I’d love to, but I really can’t.” He rubbed her arm. “You sleep. I’ll be back later… and we can try out the stuff you thought up.”
Zoey groaned. “It’s freezing out. Don’t work on Sundays. It’s a sin. Stay here with me.”
He grinned. “That’s still sinning.” His smile fell a little as he let go of her. He tossed back the covers on his side and stood up. “It’s not work.”
Zoey pulled the sheets up to her chest and sat up. “Meeting?”
He nodded as he stood in front of the closet to grab a clean shirt.
“I… do you want me to come?”
Dalton’s hand froze on a heavy-knit henley. He glanced at her.
“I can go. I should go.”
“Zoey—”
“I want to support you, Dalton. This is important, for you, for us.”
He pulled the shirt off the hanger and slung it over his shoulder. “I appreciate the thought. And… maybe you can at some point. But not today.”
She frowned. “Why not?”
Dalton rubbed his chin. The truth was, he hadn’t yet told Jig about his change in circumstances. He needed to get that straight and springing Zoey on his sponsor didn’t seem like the best way to do that. Plus, there were other considerations. “I’ve got to talk to some people. I mean, it’s anonymous, and you might recognize some people.”
“Oh. Oh, right,” she said nodding. “I get it. But…sometime?”
As he crossed the room, he stopped at the bed. He reached out and cupped her face with one hand. “Yeah. Sometime. This is going to work, Zoey. With or without you, I’m going to make it.”
She pressed his hand to her cheek and leaned into it. “I know.”
It was freezing. She was right about that. He lifted the collar of his coat against the sharp wind. It was probably best she stay at home, in the bed, in their bed. As he scraped the ice from the windshield, he considered their new circumstances. Zoey needed a car, one with a backseat. They had a crib, but they’d need a lot of other things. He’d better start a list.
He frowned as he realized he was going to have put off paying Adam the rest of the money he owed. Dalton assumed Adam would get over it. He’d have to. Plus, there was no time limit on making amends. As long as Dalton never forgot about his obligations and he was still working the Program.
He headed to the church and took his usual parking spot. Jig’s truck was already there. This was the hard part. In the back of his mind, Dalton was totally aware that this wasn’t the proper way to do things. He reached into his pocket and rubbed the coin. He didn’t need his life to be easy. He just needed the strength to weather it.
He headed down the stairs and found Jig by the refreshment table. Dalton took a deep breath and headed across the room. “Hey.”
Jig turned, cocking his head at Dalton as he returned the greeting. “So, what’s up?” Jig asked pointedly.
Dalton glanced around the room. They were early and there were only a couple of people already here. He and Jig were in for a long conversation, though. Dalton hoped they could keep it mostly private.
Jig seemed to run out of patience waiting for Dalton to respond. “You going to tell me why you keep doubling up on meetings lately? Is it your old man or the holidays? Work getting you down?”
Dalton shifted uncomfortably as he tried to formulate his answer.
Jig sighed. “Boy, if you slipped you have to tell me. I hate to break it to you, but you gotta come clean and get clean. And yeah it’s a bitch to start over but—”
Dalton jerked his gaze back to Jig. “I didn’t slip!”
Jig pursed his lips.
“Jig, I didn’t slip. I swear it.”
“Then tell me what’s got your goat, boy.”
Dalton took a deep breath as Jig watched him carefully. “Zoey’s back.”
Jig’s eyes narrowed. “Back? Like back in town?”
Dalton shook his head. “Well, yeah, but back with me, too.”
“Dalton—”
“I know. I know everything you’re going to say. The thing is, she needs me. She really needs me and I have to be there for her. There’s just no other way.”
“So, is that it? What aren’t you telling me?”
Dalton finally met the older man’s eyes. “She’s pregnant.”
Jig groaned and shook his head. “Boy, that is not what I meant by planting a seed and you know it.”
Dalton lowered his voice so that even Jig strained to hear him. “It’s not mine.”
That seemed to be the proverbial straw. Jig straightened up, squaring his shoulders.
Dalton immediately went on the defensive. “Jig—”
“Everyday.”
“I- what?”
“Every damn day. I want you at a meeting every day for the next two weeks. There are two here a week and one almost every night at Rapid City Regional. And I’m going to call you, twice a day, for awhile.”
“Jig, slow down. This is not a Code Red situation.”
“Maybe not. At least not yet and it’s my job to make sure it doesn’t get to that point. This is not how this goes, Dalton. This is not in the Program.”
Dalton didn’t want to say ‘Fuck the Program.’ The Program —and Jig— had very possibly saved his life, but he wasn’t going to give up Zoey. There was no way he could.
“I want to meet your brother. And your woman.”
“No,” Dalton argued. “Just… no.”
“Why not?”
“Because… Adam’s not on board,” Dalton admitted. “He told her so.”
Jig eyed him closely. “He’s worried she’s trouble?”
“No! Adam loves Zoey. He said so himself.” Dalton sighed heavily. “He’s scared, Jig. He’s scared she’ll tip me over. I don’t want it to seem like the two of you are ganging up on her. None of this is her fault. She’s… we’re…”
Fuck, Dal
ton thought. Fucking fuck.
“What?” Jig prompted.
Dalton met his gaze. “Meant to be together.”
Jig didn’t respond but he looked skeptical.
“Oh, come on, Jig!” Dalton argued. “You’re in the Program! You ask me to believe there’s something out there. You tell me to have faith in things I can’t see. And on the night I finally share how losing Zoey nearly tore me all the way down, I get a call that she needs me. After all this time, she needs me and her boy needs me and everything I thought I lost for good is suddenly right there in front of me. What is that, Jig? You tell me what that is if it isn’t God giving me a second chance and telling me not to fuck it up this time!”
Jig didn’t answer for a moment.
“You can’t have it both ways,” Dalton said quietly. “You can’t ask me to believe, but tell me not to believe in this.”
Jig sighed and looked up at the stained ceiling. “Guess I know what I’d do if my old lady said she’d take me back.”
Dalton’s shoulders relaxed and he unclenched his fists. “Okay,” he said. “Yeah. So, you understand.”
Jig brought his head back down. “But I’m not new, boy. I’m not fresh out of my first stint in the white room without even a one-year coin in my pocket. So, it’s meetings every day for two weeks, plus phone calls, plus I am going to meet your family.”
Dalton frowned.
“Just because I lost mine doesn’t mean I don’t know my way around families,” Jig added. “I won’t step over the line.”
Dalton was grateful to have someone not required to give such a shit about him, someone not related to him by blood anyway. Jig had never asked for anything in return for looking out for him.
“Why are you my sponsor?” he asked suddenly.
Jig’s brow furrowed. “Because I thought you’d swan dive off the wagon and land face first in pig shit.”
Dalton’s mouth opened, but he didn’t know what to say.
Jig shrugged. “You work all day. You’re alone at night. And there’s a lot of shit you can’t change, like your Mom and your old man. I figured you for starting over two, maybe three times, before sobriety finally took.”
Dalton considered this for a moment. “How many times did you start over?”
“Three.”
Dalton shook his head fiercely. “I’m not starting over.”
Jig reached out and clapped him on the arm. “One day at a time, boy. One day at a time.”
As Dalton drove home, he felt a spreading warmth in his chest. Things were finally coming together and he was on solid ground once more. As he sat at the light, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He frowned. Surely Jig wasn’t starting now. That would be a little extreme, even for Jig.
Dalton fished out his phone and glanced at the screen. Zoey was calling. He was almost home anyway, so he tucked the phone away. He figured he’d find out what she wanted soon enough and shortly after turning onto his own street, he did.
He hadn’t seen the car out front or the man on the porch before, but somehow Dalton didn’t need an introduction. Without thinking, Dalton swung the truck wide and parked it directly in front of the gray Mercedes, cutting off the easiest avenue of escape. Up until this moment, Dalton had wanted to avoid a confrontation but, now that it had been brought to his front door, he didn’t want to it end any time soon.
He slammed the shifter into park and jumped out. As he crossed the lawn, the guy stopped pounding on the door long enough to turn. His face went white. Dalton’s left hand twitched, longing for the warm, hard, unyielding reassurance of the coin in his pocket. His right hand curled into a fist.
It was too late to pray for serenity.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” Dalton demanded.
Grant’s features sharpened and he glared at Dalton. “This doesn’t concern you.”
“The hell it doesn’t. Get the hell away from my front door.”
Grant turned away, dismissing Dalton out of hand. “I’m here to see Zoey, not grunt at you, Neanderthal.”
Dalton reached the steps, snatching Grant’s arm and spinning him. One hard yank and the smaller man was stumbling down the steps toward the frozen grass. Dalton’s foot slipped, but he didn’t go down.
“Get your hands off me!”
“Leave.”
“I want-”
Dalton spread his arms wide. “Do I look like I give a fuck what you want, Grant?”
The man’s jaw tightened and he rattled a sheaf of papers in his hand. “She needs to sign these.”
Dalton looked at the stack. He couldn’t read any of the text from here, but he could guess what they were. And there was little doubt that signing them meant giving the little weasel more than he deserved. “That’s not happening,” Dalton declared.
“I didn’t ask you,” Grant sneered.
The front door opened and Zoey stepped out, without a coat, Dalton noticed. His hands twitched again. “Go back inside,” he told her.
Instead of listening, Zoey came down the front steps. “You need to leave, Patrick.”
“Not until you sign these.”
Zoey held out her hand. “Just give them to me and go.”
The tiny man grinned triumphantly. He moved forward and tried to muscle past Dalton, but Dalton was done being nice and there was no way Zoey was signing those papers.
As Grant’s shoulder brushed him, Dalton grabbed his arm again and charged toward the street, dragging Grant with him.
Zoey cried out. “Oh, my God! Dalton! Don’t!”
Sheets of crisp, white paper fanned out, scattering everywhere.
With both hands now available, Grant tried to wrestle himself free. “Let go of me!”
Dalton made it to the curb and slammed him against the Mercedes, keeping his gaze on the man in front of him. “Zoey, stay right where you are,” he barked.
Grant clawed at Dalton’s arms. “I’ll call the cops!” he screeched.
Dalton twisted the shirt in his fist. “Oh, you do that. The paperwork will take all day— one report for every time you hit her. We’ll probably get around to talking about this little spat in a few hours but, by that time, we’ll both be wearing cuffs.” Dalton leaned in closer. The smell of cologne stung his nose, but he didn’t flinch. “Imagine you and me in a teeny, tiny little jail cell. Together.”
Grant swallowed hard.
Dalton grinned. “How will we pass the time?”
“I have a right to talk to her!”
Dalton shook his head. “You have a right to breathe. I’m giving you that. For now.”
“She’s still my wife. We’re still married.”
“And you miss her so much you came all the way here with divorce papers.” Dalton looked around at the dozens of sheets scattered on the lawn. “Jesus, Grant, you put more time and effort into splitting up than you ever did into staying together.”
Grant glared at him. “Well, it wasn’t much of a marriage. Not with you always there, hovering around us like a ghost.”
Dalton snorted. “Please. I wasn’t anywhere near you or your marriage. You’re pathetic. Why don’t you stop blaming everyone else in your life for your problems? Man up and take responsibility, Grant. You put your hands on her… and your feet.”
The man’s eyes widened as Dalton’s narrowed. He pressed the shorter man harder against the frame of the car. “Yeah, I know about that,” Dalton told him. “I know everything. You had your chance and you fucked it up. If you think you’re getting anything out of it, well that just shows how fucking stupid you really are. You should be grateful that I’ll let you walk away from this at all.”
Grant’s perfectly combed hair fell across his eyes. His hands were still pawing at Dalton’s arms so he shook his head to clear his vision. “You don’t have any proof! And she went back to her ex like a bitch in heat. Her word isn’t worth shit!”
Dalton held Grant with one hand and dug his phone out o
f his pocket with the other. With his thumb he brought up the photo he’d taken. Zoey had been asleep but the black eye was plain as day.
Dalton showed it to him. “You sure about that?”
Grant stiffened.
“Now you need to think long and hard about what you want to do here,” said Dalton. “Because she’s not signing anything, not a damn thing. There’s no easy money here, Grant. Just how hard are you willing to fight for a family you never wanted in the first place?”
Suddenly, eerily, Grant’s mouth slid into a grin.
Dalton suppressed the urge to shudder.
Perfect white teeth flashed in the sunlight.
Dalton wanted to punch them all out.
Grant cocked his head to the side. “Who says I don’t want the kid?”
Dalton stared at him.
“On the contrary, Stark. That kid’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”
White hot fury sparked in the pit of Dalton’s stomach.
Grant’s eyes shone. “It’s Zoey that needs to do some thinking. Adultery, willful abandonment. It won’t look good for her. Especially at the custody hearing.”
Dalton could barely breathe. It felt like all the air had suddenly evaporated around him.
“I don’t know how smart you are,” Grant sneered. He glanced meaningfully at the truck. “But I can see that you get it. Now you sit her ass down and explain it to her. You tell my wife, who’s carrying my kid that—”
Dalton grabbed him by the throat again. "My kid. My son. They're both mine. And if you come near them again, I will end. Your. Life."
“Dalton!” Zoey stepped off the curb and flung herself at the two men. She grabbed Dalton’s arm and tugged, but wasn’t strong enough to pull his hand away from Grant’s throat.
Dalton wasn’t squeezing, tempted as he was. One hard flex and the man was finished. The only problem was that Dalton would be finished as well and Zoey and the baby would be left alone.
“Dalton, please.” His gaze flitted to her. Her eyes were wet with tears as she continued to pull on his arm. He cursed under his breath. He always hated to see her cry. He let go of Grant and stepped back onto the grass.