“Make the time,” Oliver said and hung up on him.
Grimacing, he tucked his phone away. Paws perched on his thigh had him reaching down and plucking Cricket from the ground. He nuzzled into his scruffy fur and received a few kisses in return.
Milly came trotting up and Cricket started wiggling, so he placed the pup back on the ground. The four-year-old Blue Heeler had taken Cricket under her wing and the pair were inseparable. They took off, trotting back into the barn. He wasn’t worried about puppies. Cricket had been fixed before he’d fostered and then adopted the dog. It was mandatory on rescued animals, and for good reason. There were more than enough abandoned animals for people to take in.
Returning to the barn, he found an empty stall and turned over a water bucket to have a seat before he tugged out his wallet. Inside the fold, he removed a creased flyer. He opened it for the fifth time since he’d received it yesterday and gazed at the information.
It was a sixty-two-acre Texas spread. Tiny by normal ranch standards, but the family had sold off most of the land to larger ranchers. The remaining piece of land, along with the ranch house, the family had planned on keeping. That had changed and Beckett had overnighted the pamphlet to him.
He punched in the number on the brochure and waited.
“Folsom Realty,” a woman said.
“Yeah, hi. I’m interested in the sixty-two acres with the ranch house that just went up for sale.”
“The one in Weatherford?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to come see it?”
“I can’t at the moment, I’m not in Texas,” he responded. “Can you send me an application anyway?”
“Yes, I can email you one.”
“Thank you.” He gave her his email and ended the call.
Opening his iPhone, he continued pulling his finger down the screen, refreshing it until her mail popped up. It took him a while with the size of his fingers, but he was able to put in all the information. The down payment might be a stretch, but Spencer had said he’d loan him any extra money until whenever.
Dillon had almost refused, but Spencer would have none of it.
“Bro,” his friend had snorted. “What’s the sense in marrying the richest man in the world if I can’t use his money for the greater good?”
“Babe,” Liam Cobalt’s voice came through in the background. “I’m one of the richest, not the richest.”
“Okay,” Spencer cackled. “One of the richest,” his brother-in-arms amended. “Still, if you need enough to get it, we’ve got your back.”
“Believe him, Dillon,” Liam called out his own confirmation.
“Thank you, both,” he’d laughingly replied.
He’d never be able to thank Liam enough for taking a chance on him. The colonel had seen something in him that he hadn’t been able to see. That he still wasn’t able to see, he amended.
“Dillon?”
“Yeah, JJ, what’s up?” He glanced up from his phone to see the ranch manager in the stall doorway.
“I need to run into town, you need anything for the pup?”
Dillon came out of the stall, opening the wallet he still held in his hand and pulled out a few twenties. “Yeah, would you get them all some hard chews, but nothing rawhide. It upsets Cricket’s stomach.”
“Yeah, we don’t give rawhide to ours either.” JJ took the money and left with a wave.
He figured he’d given Luke enough time to have his “wake up and smell the roses” speech, but before he could start searching, Luke came back through the barn door.
“All finished?” He reached out and tugged Luke closer. The man’s mouth was tight and lines bracketed his eyes more so than normal.
“Eric wasn’t on the chopper. He ditched his detail again. It was just Ferguson dropping off bulk supplies.”
Charles Ferguson was ex-Air Force and delivered supplies across the state. Sometimes, he flew people back and forth. When he’d run a background check, Dillon had discovered the man’s expertise came from being a fighter pilot.
“Why didn’t the detail call you?”
“They sent me a text, but my phone was in the house.”
The little bastard, Dillon clenched his teeth.
“I sent Eric a text just now. He said he was busy.”
First, he wants the fucking money like yesterday and now he’s busy? The punk was asking for a beat down.
Dillon pulled Luke into his arms and hugged him tightly. The droop of Luke’s shoulders angered him. He wanted to grind Eric into pulp for putting unnecessary stress on Luke during this difficult time.
“Where does he keep disappearing to?”
“I don’t know, but I put my investigator on it.”
Good. If the fucker had anything to do with the threat to Luke’s life, the guy was going down.
“How long ago?”
“A few weeks ago, but so far, he’s found nothing.”
“I’ll let the colonel know,” he said.
“I already did.” Luke placed his head on his shoulder.
When Luke did things like that, it made him feel like he was ten feet tall.
“What’s that?”
He pulled back and looked at the ground where Luke was pointing. It was the Texas property flyer.
“Property I’m looking at.” He picked it up.
“You’re going to buy that?” Luke’s fingers tentatively touched the flyer.
“Maybe. I haven’t seen it yet,” Dillon admitted.
Luke searched his face and then grinned. Uh oh…
“What?”
“Let’s go see it!” Luke’s face filled with excitement.
“Really?” He could only stare. Luke had caught him totally by surprise.
“Yeah, why not?”
“You do realize that someone wants you dead.”
“Maybe. And what better way to throw them off than by disappearing for a day or two?”
Dillon thought for a minute.
A trip to Texas wasn’t far…He could look at the property and stay at Beckett’s place nearby. It would do some good to get Luke away from here and he could get a firsthand look at the spread. It would also give him the opportunity to introduce Luke to Beckett.
“All right, but you tell no one. You hear me?”
“Yes, sir.” Luke snapped a salute with a wide grin.
Dillon smirked and tugged Luke close.
Luke
“How big is it?” He gazed down at the main house surrounded by thick trees.
Dillon held out the flyer to him, but he shook his head and shouted to the pilot. “Take us around again.”
“Why?” Dillon frowned, puzzled.
“You tell me,” he said. “Tell me what you see, what you want. How do you feel?”
Dillon cleared his throat. “Well, that’s Weatherford. The ranch sits on sixty-two acres, the main house is a five bedroom with four and a half baths.” Dillon went quiet as the helicopter circled the ranch below.
“What’s it known for?” he asked.
“Horses, I think.”
Green grass stretched in a wide arc around the yellow and white house with perfectly lined borders of trees. Next to the trees surrounding the house was a white picket fence. It all seemed to lack character.
“I don’t like it,” Dillon said abruptly.
“Why?” He reached over and linked their fingers.
“It’s not what I want. It looks too…clean.”
Luke chuckled. “Let’s just land and look at it. Not every ranch is as rugged looking as mine.”
Dillon gave him a sheepish shrug. “Okay. Let’s look inside.”
The chopper landed and they jumped out and ran through the humidity and out of the rotary wash. Once clear, Luke took off his windbreaker and walked with Dillon around the side of the house to the front.
“Mr. Thorne?” the realtor asked.
“I’m Dillon Thorne.” Dillon stepped forward and shook the woman’s hand.
“Is this your dad?”
“What? No. He’s not old enough to be my dad.” Dillon scowled.
Rather than let the situation escalate, Luke jumped in. “Well, I could be old enough to be his dad, but I’m not.”
“Stupid,” Dillon muttered.
“I’m so sorry.” The realtor looked aghast at her mistake.
“Don’t worry about it,” Luke said with a smile. He wasn’t worried about the woman’s mistake.
Dillon, on the other hand, looked furious. His face had turned to stone, his fists were clenched, and a muscle ticked in his jaw.
She gave him a worried smile and hurried toward the house.
“Let’s look inside,” he whispered.
“I’m fucking furious,” Dillon hissed.
“I can tell. Don’t let someone’s random comment ruin our time together.”
Dillon stopped and took a deep breath.
“You are not old enough to be my dad. Why’d you say that to her?”
“To mitigate her embarrassment.”
“You’re way too nice,” Dillon grumbled.
Luke waited patiently while Dillon seemed to be deciding something internally. Then the man picked up his hand and brought it to his lips. Luke glanced toward the house and saw the woman had turned and caught the exchange.
“Is this for her benefit or mine?” He quirked one eyebrow.
“Yours, I don’t give a shit about hers.”
“You sounded like you did.”
“A momentary lapse,” Dillon said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted like that.”
“You’re entitled to react, Dillon.”
Dillon smirked and turned toward the realtor on the front steps.
“Ready?” she asked with a tentative smile.
“Yes,” Dillon replied.
The inside of the house was just as bland as the outside, but Luke kept his face neutral and his smile in place. He had trouble not laughing at Dillon’s look of horror at the tiled floors, expensive furnishings, and the massive white fireplace.
Luke unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. The afternoon sun could be unforgiving and thankfully, they’d blasted the air conditioner.
“It’s white,” Dillon mumbled.
“Come on.” He hid his grin and guided Dillon up the white stairs with white railing into the room above.
Dillon stopped with a frown at the master bedroom and scowled at the white fluffy carpet and white bedspread.
“You can hire a decorator,” he advised, walking to the window.
Dillon stalked to the narrow patio doors and pulled them open. When Dillon disappeared outside, Luke found himself following.
He blinked. There wasn’t enough room for anyone to turn around out there. Not with the small table and two chairs. He clasped Dillon’s arm and drew him from the balcony.
“Let’s look at the barn.”
Ushering a quiet Dillon downstairs, he found the realtor texting on her phone.
“All good?” She brightened.
“We’re going to take a look outside.”
“Okay.” She went back to texting.
Dillon locked their fingers together as they made their way to the barn. It was expensively designed and could house several horses.
“Better?” He turned with his arms out, pointing to the almost rustic design.
“No.” Dillon scowled.
He chuckled. “Come on, this isn’t that bad.”
Dillon finally took his eyes from him and gazed around. “No,” Dillon said thoughtfully. “The barn has some merit.”
“But?” Luke stepped closer.
“If I’m going to invest in something this big, I need to love it.” Dillon’s hands settled on his hips, drawing him even closer.
“True,” he said with a brush of hands over Dillon’s shoulders.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Just for being here.” Dillon brushed a kiss on his mouth. “For coming with me.”
“Anytime.”
“I want to take you to meet Beckett.”
Dillon had spoken of his childhood friend, but Luke hadn’t expected that Dillon would introduce him on this short trip.
“Is that why you had me pack a bag?
“It is. Beckett has a huge spread just outside of Austin. We can spend the night.”
He tipped his head back, searching Dillon’s gaze. Introducing friends? This would take their relationship to another level.
“You don’t want to?” Dillon’s mouth drew down.
“I’d love to,” he replied with a smile.
“There you two are,” the realtor said from the doorway. “So, what do you think?”
“Thanks for your time. We’re still thinking about it,” he said.
Dillon followed it up in his blunt way. “But we probably won’t take it. It’s just not quite what we want.”
Luke tugged Dillon toward the waiting helicopter, leaving a disappointed realtor behind.
Dillon
“So, where did you grow up, sir?” Beckett asked Luke.
“Please, call me Luke.”
“Luke,” Beckett responded with a smile.
“I grew up in Arizona with my grandfather and also spent summers in New Orleans with my grandmother.”
“Grandparents?”
“My parents divorced when I was about five years old. My dad moved to New York. My mother took me with her to live with my grandmother in New Orleans.”
“So, you’re close with your mother?”
“Beckett,” Dillon growled.
“What?” His friend looked at him innocently.
“It’s okay.” Luke smiled, and when Dillon could find nothing uncomfortable in Luke’s expression, he kept quiet but sent his friend a warning look.
Beckett stuck his tongue out at him. Dillon rolled his eyes.
“Yes, I was very close to my mother. She died about five years ago from cancer.”
“I’m sorry. And your dad?” Beckett leaned forward, his friend’s face filled with compassion. That was one of the things Dillon loved about Sam Beckett, his ability to empathize with people.
“I don’t remember him much. He died of a heart attack when I was ten. I was closest to my grandfather.”
“Oh, my god. How old was your dad?”
“He was fifty.” Luke took a bite of his food.
“I’m sorry. Heart disease?”
“Yeah, and high blood pressure.”
“Runs in the family?”
“Beckett!” Dillon snapped.
His childhood friend was in rare form. Always tenacious, Beckett was hell bent on digging every single bit of private information out of Luke. Information that Luke himself hadn’t yet shared with him.
“It’s fine.” Luke placed a palm over his hand and the touch settled him.
Dillon flipped his hand over and linked their fingers together, giving his friend a warning look.
Beckett gave him a wide smirk and eagerly turned his attention to Luke.
“Both my great-grandfather and father died young. I take medications to help control my blood pressure,” Luke answered.
He’d seen the pills Luke kept on the sink. He’d worried about them and had looked them up online.
“I didn’t know about your dad,” he murmured.
“You guys don’t talk?” There went his big mouthed friend again.
Dillon scowled. “We’ve been dating for two weeks, Beckett. Nobody shares their whole life in two weeks.”
“I do!” Beckett grinned, but then held up his hands at his scowl. “So, Luke, how old are you?”
“Beckett!” Dillon gaped at his friend.
Luke only laughed and Beckett grinned at him. Dillon calmed a bit when Luke squeezed where their fingers were linked together.
“I’m fourteen years older than Dillon. I’m forty-nine.”
“Cool.”
“This is good,” Dillon grumbled into the soup, tryi
ng to distract Beckett. Thank god it worked.
“It is!” Beckett pointed his spoon at the bowl of hot potato chowder in front of Luke. What do you think?”
“It’s excellent.”
“It’s vegan,” Beckett proudly announced.
“Luke eats a lot of plant-based foods,” he replied.
“You noticed that, did ya?” Luke said.
“Of course,” he scoffed, and thankful to his little investigative work, he also understood why Luke drank decaf coffee and avoided red meat.
Luke smiled and took another bite, closing his eyes. “It’s really good.”
Dillon let out the breath he was holding. It was really important that Beckett liked Luke and vice versa.
“So, you never said… how was the property?” Beckett asked him.
“Horrible.”
“Really?”
“Bland,” Luke added.
“Too sterile,” he said at the same time.
Luke chuckled and he reluctantly smiled.
“There was no character,” he followed up.
“Ah.” Beckett nodded, pointing around his rustic dining room in the large ranch house.
“Yeah, it wasn’t like this,” Luke added around a bite of biscuit.
“What’s your home like?” Beckett asked Luke.
“More like this.”
“Luke’s ranch is great,” Dillon said, launching into a detailed description of the house, grounds, and the barn and outbuildings. He compared the place they’d visited to Luke’s.
“Trust me, it came up short.” He paused to find them both staring at him and heat crept up his neck.
“My great-grandfather built that home.” Luke turned to him with excitement. “My grandfather spent several years building additions.”
“Really? I can’t tell.” He pictured each room in his head for a moment. “Which ones?”
“The kitchen and the connecting dining room are two,” Luke pointed out.
“I expanded this,” Beckett tossed in, gesturing around the room.
Luke turned to Beckett and the pair got into an in-depth discussion about the benefits of having more space.
Dillon sat back and watched. The two were alike in many ways, only Luke was older, and Beckett had more of a prying nature. But Beckett was also easy going and caring just like Luke. Beckett communicated easily with all kinds of people like Luke, and Beckett was also a leader. Not only did he own this ranch, Beckett was also a nurse at the local hospital.
Whatever It Takes (Code Of Honor Book 5) Page 10