Love Me Again, Cowboy

I smirk at that. But my sister’s change of subject didn’t go unnoticed. A ball of unease fills my stomach.

Chapter Three

JAXON

I rub my brow, trying to stave off the headache that’s threatening to turn into a migraine at any moment. My brothers are lecturing me in the living room about my ex-girlfriend, also known as psycho or the mother of my child.

Landon holds the bank statement up sternly. “You gave her five thousand dollars?” He’s talking to me more like a scolding parent than an older brother.

We share the responsibilities of running Wyle Away Ranch, and when our other brother, Dillon, who does all of our accounting, spotted chunks of our funds being transferred to Brittany, he shared it with Landon. And yes, I probably should have told them, but I didn’t want them to have to worry about it. Brittany is my problem, not theirs.

“I paid for it out of my extreme adventure business,” I say. “Not from the ranch. It’s no sweat off your back.”

Landon sighs. “It’s not the money, Jax. It’s the principal of it. Why are you giving her money anyway? You’re the one raising Audrey. She hasn’t even seen her in the past seven years.”

“Yeah, that’s the point. I’m giving it to her so she’ll leave us alone.”

Dillon takes a seat across from me like a living mirror. “She’ll keep coming back for more money if you keep giving it to her.” Dillon is my identical twin, but other than sharing the same face, we’re nothing alike. He’s a banker who knows how to work the stock market and dresses all GQ, whereas I’m a rancher through and through with a wardrobe that consists of jeans, T-shirts, flannels, and cowboy boots. But he’s as dedicated to this family as I am. Dillon crosses one leg over the other from his place on the couch. “You just need to be firm and tell her no.”

I huff a humorless laugh. “You think I haven't tried that? Last time I told her no, she threatened to take me to court to get custody of Audrey.” Anger resurfaces, making me antsy, and I get up to pace. “She’s never once asked how Audrey is, but when I refuse to give her money, she uses my daughter as a pawn.”

“That’s extortion,” Dillon says.

I shake my head. “She doesn't care what it is. The legal fees would amount to more than what I’m giving her. Besides, what if she does take me to court and some sympathetic judge hears her pleas and gives her custody of Audrey? It's not worth leaving it to chance. I’d rather just give the woman what she really wants: the money.”

Landon puts the bank statement on the coffee table. “What judge would give her custody? She can't keep a job, never sees Audrey, is on and off drugs, in and out of AA, and has three DUI’s.”

Dillon taps his fingers on his knee, contemplating the question. “Actually, it does happen. It’s not right, or fair, but it happens all the time. We’re in a mother-sympathetic state. If she can prove that she’s changed, they’ll more likely than not give her at least partial custody. Unfortunately, the courts figure a bad mother is better than no mother.”

Which is exactly what I feared. “We all know why I can’t allow that. She’ll get behind the wheel after she’s been drinking again. She’s already proven it’s a pattern. I can’t let Audrey be exposed to that.”

They’re silent at my words. I look to the picture on the mantle of our parents. Mother is laughing and Dad is staring at her, a big grin on his face. The familiar pang of grief stabs at me. Our parents were killed by a drunk driver on the way home from a horse show a couple months after Audrey was born, so we all know the very real danger driving under the influence poses.

Landon stands and puts a hand on my shoulder. His eyes get even more serious than usual, putting lines between his brows . . . which is saying something. He was born serious. “We won’t let that happen.”

Dillon leans forward to pick up the bank statement. “There is another way to get Brittany out of our lives for good.”

I give him a pointed look. “Sorry. We can’t kill her, brother.”

His eyes widen. “I wasn’t suggesting—. Oh, you’re joking. What I was trying to say is that you need a wife. Get married, and then your wife can adopt Audrey, severing Brittany’s bargaining chip.”

A wife? He must be kidding. But when he doesn’t smile, I realize he’s serious. “Right, like I can just go to the grocery store and pick out a wife.”

Landon chuckles. “Actually, you probably could. You’re the most eligible bachelor at Audrey’s school. I know at least two single moms who would jump at a chance to be your Mrs. Wyle.”

I give them a winning smile. “As true as that might be, it’s not that easy. I can’t just marry some random woman so that I can get Brittany to stop asking for money. That seems like trading in one problem for another.”

Dillion shrugs. “Then fall in love with someone, or at least start dating so you’ll have a chance to.”

I plop into a cushioned chair. “I don't know if I’m ready for that.” I might be fine with the occasionally flirting, but serious dating, with the intent of finding a wife?

“Don’t tell me you’re still pining for Malia,” Dillon says.

Landon takes a seat next to me. “Of course, he is. Ever since her show ended, he has bought every episode on Amazon Prime and watches them over and over again.”

“That’s an exaggeration,” I say. Although the accusation isn’t entirely untrue, and hearing him say it like that, I realize how crazy and obsessive it sounds. I cringe.

“Then go to Hollywood and beg her to take you back,” Dillon says. “I’ll even fly you. I miss Malia. Any girl who can make spam taste like a delicacy is golden in my book.”