Claiming the Enemy: Dustin (Porter Brothers Trilogy 3)

“It is hard to miss.” Dustin tried to ease her concern, even though his own tore at him at seeing the brother he had always thought of as invincible spend the last month in bed with barely enough strength to make it to the bathroom.

“Knox is watching out for him. That’s why he suckered Greer into that card game when I told Diamond how worried I was after he wanted to go back to work.”

Dustin lifted a brow in Holly’s direction. “I would keep this just between us. Greer hates the morning shift.”

“Believe me, I know. He complained about it all night,” Holly said, reaching for the teether when Rosie began crying before glancing at the wall. “You better go, or Logan’s going to be late.”

Taking his car keys off the kitchen counter, he hastened Logan out the door. Then he made sure Logan was buckled in the back seat before he got behind the wheel.

Driving down the dirt road that led down the mountain, he bit back a swear word when the bumper hit a large rut. He was jealous as hell of Greer’s truck. He had enough saved up to get one for himself, but as an accountant and wanting to grow his business, he wanted to earn clients’ confidence that they could trust him. Tooling around town in an expensive truck would give the doubters in town fuel that a Porter couldn’t make an honest living. They would say he bought it with his clients’ stolen money.

Most of the townspeople were wary of the Porter brothers. It had taken Dustin several years to accumulate enough clients to make a wage that could support Logan without solely relying on planting pot that the family depended on for their income.

Turning onto the road into town, Dustin looked in his rearview mirror at Logan’s glum expression. “Be careful, or your face will freeze in that expression.” Dustin screwed his face into a comical look in the mirror.

“I want to go hunting with Uncle Cash tonight. Why can’t I go? Razer is letting Chance and Noah go, and they get in trouble at school all the time.”

Dustin’s eyes went back to the road. “I already told you no.”

“But why?”

“Because you hate hunting, and Noah and Chance don’t.”

“But I like fishing, and Uncle Cash said he bought a new pole that I could use.”

The first thing he was going to do when he got to his office was call his brother-in-law and give him a few choice words that he wasn’t able to utter in front of his son.

“No. Maybe next time Uncle Cash invites them to go, you can go, too, but not right now.”

“But why?” the little boy argued back.

“Logan, do you want to lose your video games for another week?”

“No.”

“Then I would stop asking but why?”

Dustin pulled his car into the drop-off line of the school. Waiting for his turn, he edged his car forward, coming to a stop when it was Logan’s turn.

Dustin winced when he heard Logan’s seatbelt loosen, the metal bracket hitting the side of the door at an angry jerk.

“What am I supposed to tell Noah and Chance about why I can’t go?”

Dustin knew what his brother Greer would have said if Logan had talked to him in that tone of voice. Instead, he started counting to keep from losing his temper.

“Tell them you’re waiting for me to take you. That your dad’s a better fisherman and hunter than Uncle Cash is.”

Logan paused from getting out of the car. “Are you?”

Cash was damn good, but he was better.

“For sure.”

2

“Dustin is looking sharp this morning.”

The feminine appreciation in the voice behind her had her lifting her head from the craft project she was doing with the small group of three-years-olds she was helping at the table.

“Kailor, can you take your eyes off Dustin long enough to hand me the paper towels?” Jessie snapped, holding the small hand still before Presley smeared glue on her clothes. The mischievous child was determined to smear the sticky mess everywhere but on the construction paper in front of her.

“Sorry, Miss Hayes.”

“I can’t blame her. He does look sharp.”

Jessie’s brow lifted at the other woman she worked with. Then she stood to go to the window, looking outside. “Bliss, I don’t think your husband would like you gawking at his cousin.”

“Drake is cool with me looking. I’m just not allowed to touch.”

Jessie shook her head at the beautiful woman who had one of the best-looking men in the palm of her hand.

“I love a man with black hair.”

“It’s red,” Bliss corrected Kailor, moving away from the window to gingerly pick up Presley’s artwork, laying it on the table in front of the window.

“No, it’s not. It’s black,” Kailor countered as if she were an expert on Dustin Porter’s hair.

“It’s chestnut.” Rising from the low table, Jessie went to the sink to wash her hands as Kailor and Bliss finished clearing the table.