Lone Star Valentine

Lily looked right at him. As her confusion faded, anger took its place. Another beat of silence fell. “I’ve got time.”

Her ex shoved a hand through his cropped white-blond hair, then adopted the earnest-but-likable look he had perfected for his signature cologne ads and continued, “You know I didn’t exactly have the best season last year.”

“No kidding,” Gannon Montgomery agreed cheerfully as he walked in unannounced, tray of vending machine coffees in one hand, a flat of pastries he’d commandeered from the break room in the other.

Lily turned toward him, relieved for the interruption.

As if reading her mind, Gannon winked.

“Exactly who are you?” Bode’s sports agent asked, clearly as surprised to see Gannon there as Lily was.

Bode dismissed Gannon with a glare. “He’s one of Lily’s law school buddies.”

Or at least Gannon had been, Lily noted silently, until Bode had come into the picture, just as she was getting ready to graduate.

“Actually,” the senior lawyer on Bode’s team, a distinguished man in his late forties, corrected, “this is Gannon Montgomery—one of the top family-law attorneys in Fort Worth.”

The other attorney, a young, good-looking woman with wiry ebony hair, squinted at Gannon. “Are you representing Ms. McCabe?” She clearly seemed to hope not.

Gannon looked at Lily.

He’d crashed her meeting and successfully intercepted Bode’s ridiculous demands. Now the ball was in her court.

Figuring it wouldn’t hurt to have another member on her legal team, particularly if it temporarily set her opponents off their game, Lily said what she knew to be the truth—at least in several other cases. “Mr. Montgomery is ‘of counsel’ with my family-law attorney, Liz Cartwright-Anderson.”

Meaning Gannon could advise on legal matters but wouldn’t do anything unless it became necessary, and then only at her current attorney’s discretion.

Which, Lily firmly intended, would not be the case.

Gannon beamed. As always, glad to be of service, even if it was only because he had strong-armed his way into the situation.

Lily stifled a small sigh.

“So where were we?” Gannon asked pleasantly, pulling up a chair and taking his place next to Lily.

“Bode wants me to hand over custody of Lucas for a little while.”

“Ah.” Gannon nodded, then turned to Bode, saying drolly, “Going to play the sympathy card with the press and public?”

His legendary cool fading, Bode’s eyes started to glaze over with barely contained anger, and Lily could see the skin on his neck reddening.

A telltale sign that he was about to implode.

But before Bode could do or say anything untoward—like leap across the table and grab Gannon by the collar—his attorney interjected sternly, “Bode is Lucas’s father. And up to now, my client’s had precious little time with his offspring.”

“And whose fault is that?” Lily spit out, before she could stop herself.

Gannon reached over and put a staying palm on her wrist. His touch sent an unexpected jolt of warmth rippling through her, which left her feeling even more flustered.

As it was meant to, his touch infused her with a sudden burst of calm.

“Bode will be a free agent in another month,” the sports agent continued.

So what? Lily thought impatiently but said instead, “Which means he could go to another team.”

“In another far-flung part of the country,” his agent emphasized. He paused to let his words sink in. “Bode doesn’t want that.”

Nor, if she were honest, did Lily. It was hard enough to arrange Lucas’s once-a-year meet and greet with his dad now.

The agent continued, “Right now, the Dallas Gladiators are hesitating to offer an early extension of his current contract to Bode. They are concerned he is not as popular with their fans as he once was.”

The public relations guru who managed Bode’s “brand” jumped in. “Our research has shown a big part of that is because Bode never fully recovered from the fallout over—”

“Dumping Lily after their whirlwind romance, publicly discounting his part in Lily’s pregnancy and then marrying a Venezuelan supermodel and promptly fathering two more children with his new bride—all the while ignoring his son with Lily?” Gannon set the record straight with a taunting smile. “Until the results of a court-ordered paternity test made that impossible, that is. Then, of course, Mr. Daniels had no choice but to own up.”

The PR expert must have noticed the way Bode was bristling, because she suddenly put her hand on the superstar athlete’s wrist. “Unfortunately for all, I think the confusion regarding Lucas’s paternity is what most people remember,” she said with a brand manager’s aplomb. “Which is why, for everyone’s sake, we need to remedy that perception, and make sure everyone knows what a devoted daddy Bode is to all his children. That starts with modifying the custody agreements.”

Figuring this charade had gone far enough, Lily stood. “Actually, I like things just the way they are.” She smiled tightly.

Gannon gave her an “atta girl” look.

Then, without further ado, Lily walked to the door and opened it wide. “Now, if you all will excuse me,” she stated unequivocally, “I really have to get on with my day.”

* * *

GANNON HUNG AROUND long enough to make sure everyone vacated the conference room.

“Talk sense into her,” one of the lawyers said, handing Gannon his card.

“It’d be best for everyone,” the female attorney agreed.

With a muted look of frustration, Bode strode off. His entourage hurried to catch up with him as he exited Laramie Town Hall. Gannon took the platter of pastries back to the break room, commandeered two from the plate and returned to Lily’s office.

The door was shut.

He knocked and, without waiting for an answer, headed in.

Lily was sitting at her desk, suit jacket off, her head in her hands. She looked up, the weight of the world in her eyes. “Really?”

Given the fact there were any number of things she could call him to task on, he countered with an innocuous smile and a lift of one confection-filled hand. “Pastry?”

Her spine stiffened. “No.”

He tore his gaze from the way her breasts were pressing against the soft fabric of her blouse and concentrated instead on the flush of angry color sweeping her delicate cheeks.

Knowing he had never wanted to take her into his arms more than he did at that very moment, he tilted his head. “Something to drink, then? Lukewarm coffee? Bottle of scotch...?”

She stifled an unwilling smile. “You are a laugh a minute, counselor.”