Chapter Nine
A month later
Matt glanced at the contract he had received that morning. The triplets hadn’t wasted any time getting it to him after he had called to let them know of his decision. He would accept their offer of the four hundred acres adjacent to the south ridge of the Golden Glade Ranch.
He had discussed it with Deena, and she thought he was making the right decision.
He smiled, thinking of her reaction when he told her of his intent to give her two hundred of those acres to build her own home one day.
You would have thought he’d given her not only the moon but a few stars to go with it.
His daughter’s happiness meant everything to him, and he could definitely say she was happy.
The buzzer on his desk sounded. “Yes, Luna?”
“That reporter, Joel Evanstine, is calling for you again.”
Matt rolled his eyes. When would the man give up?
But it wasn’t just him, it was others as well, all of whom were convinced that sooner or later he would cave and grant them the interview they wanted.
It had been nearly seven months since he’d attended that foundation dinner, and he was still getting calls for a story.
His response of “there isn’t a story” just wasn’t cutting it.
“Tell Mr. Evanstine I’m in a meeting.”
“Yes, sir.”
After drawing in a deep, frustrated breath, he then released it.
This had been a busy month since returning from the gender reveal party.
He’d immediately thrown himself into the case he’d been working on, after appreciating the break, as well as appreciating the woman he’d spent time with while in Westmoreland Country.
Although he would have preferred spending his last night there with Iris instead of playing poker, he would admit to seeing the card game for what it truly was—hours of male bonding.
Granted, the men had been serious about winning, but they were also serious about sharing time together, as Westmorelands, Outlaws, in-laws and those close friends they claimed as family and included in their close-knit circle.
That even included sheriffs—past and present.
He’d enjoyed hearing from retired sheriff Nathan Harper—who had been a childhood friend of Dillon’s—and how, because of that friendship, he had worked hard during Bane Westmoreland’s turbulent and rowdy teen years to keep him out of jail.
Dillon had agreed that Nathan had come through to keep not only Bane, but also Bailey and the twins—Aidan and Adrian—from serving time or having juvenile delinquent records.
Then, according to the present sheriff, Peterson Higgins, known as Pete, who was best friend to both Derringer and Riley Westmoreland, he and Derringer had gotten into a fight while in the fifth grade, only for both of them to get a whipping from Derringer’s mom when she heard about it.
To this day, they believed Derringer’s brother, Zane, had been the snitch, and one day the two of them would get around to beating his ass for it.
Zane had only laughed, seemingly finding the threat from Derringer and Pete more amusing than serious.
Besides, according to Zane, he could take on both with one hand tied behind his back.
However, he was smart enough to stay on Pete’s good side. After all, he was the sheriff.
Matt checked his watch. It was close to lunchtime.
He could order something to be delivered or go to the sandwich shop on the corner.
Since it was a nice day, he could take a walk to the nearby park before returning.
Now that the Gaskins’ trial was over, he had a little more time before taking on his next case.
Odessa Gaskins had been a good client, a decent woman who hadn’t deserved what her husband’s mistress had put her through.
Even when the other woman’s attorney tried to paint Odessa Gaskins as a woman seen by her husband as distant, unfriendly and uncaring, and as the reason he had wanted a divorce, she had remained classy, confident and in control.
In fact, it had been the other woman who had acted out of control with her numerous theatrical outbursts, which hadn’t worked in her favor.
Character witnesses for Matt’s client had debunked the other attorney’s claims, which should not have been entered into the records anyway, since they were nothing more than hearsay and not fact.
According to Matt’s character witnesses, who included the mayor, Odessa was the most caring person anyone could meet.
In addition to being a well-respected dentist, Odessa Gaskins spent much of her free time volunteering at soup kitchens and working on community projects.
That had worked in her favor, and it had been easy to paint a not-so-nice picture of the other woman.
And as far as what the woman’s attorney wanted to present as evidence that Mr. Gaskins wanted a divorce, it was nothing more than a gold necklace he had purchased for the other woman last Christmas with the words together forever engraved on the back.
Matt had objected, and not surprisingly, as he hoped she would, the judge had overruled in favor of the other attorney. That move had allowed Matt to present as evidence an identical necklace that Mr. Gaskins had given his wife on the same Christmas, with the exact same inscription on the back.
During his closing arguments, Matt had convinced the jury that if Mr. Gaskins had wanted a divorce from his wife, he’d had plenty of time to get one, and if he loved Angela Nunn as much as she wanted to believe he did, then he should have done a better job of securing her and his child’s future.
In the end, the jurors agreed, and the verdict was unanimous in his client’s favor.
He hadn’t been surprised about the call he had received a couple of days ago from Odessa Gaskins. She had decided to set up a trust for her husband’s child, to be awarded to him at the age of twenty-five. That had been generous of Ms. Gaskins, which again only proved what a decent woman she was.
His mind shifted back to another woman who he thought was also decent. And beautiful. It had been a month since he had seen Iris, but memories of their kiss often creeped into his mind when he least expected them. Like now.
The thought of how good she had tasted made him groan.
Although she had given him the spiel that they could only be friends and only on her terms—whatever that meant—she had returned his kiss like she had put her heart, body and soul into it.
It was as if she assumed it would be their first and last kiss and intended to get everything she could from it.
His kiss had been greedy, it had been hard, and when she had rocked her hips against his, he’d nearly lost it. He had never recalled kissing a woman with such hunger, passion and determination. He had tried kissing her senseless, the same way she had tried kissing him.
He didn’t just recall the kiss, but the entire night when they danced and talked.
He had danced with her more times in a single night than he had ever danced with a woman.
He had loved the feel of her in his arms, and the thought of them never dancing together again to a slow song was one thing he couldn’t accept.
He had no problem with them being friends for now, but more than anything, he would like that friendship to develop into something more.
They were attracted to each other, and he saw no reason why that attraction couldn’t be used as a driving force to get them from Point A to Point B.
It was hard to believe that after being single for over twenty years, he was considering giving love a second chance, something he had sworn he would never do.
The only thing he could say about that was he was smitten and had been since the moment his gaze connected to Iris’s when he had arrived at Cheyenne’s birthday party.
When he told Dominic about it, his best friend only laughed and said it was bound to happen eventually, and Dom thought he and Iris would make a good couple.
Matt agreed. Now, if he could only get Iris Michaels to agree as well.
The buzzer sounded on his desk again, and he pressed the button, hoping it wasn’t about another reporter. “Yes, Luna?”
“Mr. Bronson Scott is on the line for you, sir. He said he tried calling your mobile phone and it kept going to voicemail.”
Matt glanced at his cell phone on his desk. Somehow, a couple of reporters had gotten his cell number, so he’d turned off his phone for a while. “Please put him through.”
Bronson Scott, a former race car driver extraordinaire, was the owner of Scott Motorsport, a race car team.
Bronson was close friends with the Steele family, and the Steele Corporation was one of his biggest sponsors.
A few years ago, MMD, a software corporation that Matt and Dominic had founded—and named using the first initial of his mother and Dom’s parents’ names—was another one of his sponsors.
When Luna made the connection, he said, “Hello, Bron, you’re back?” As if North American racing wasn’t enough to keep Bronson busy, he had been in Europe to discuss the possibility of becoming an owner for Formula One.
“Yes, I returned two days ago.”
“How was Scotland?”
“Beautiful. The weather, the scenery, all of it. I hate bothering you, but I was working on the schedule for the Scott Motorsport Charity Race, and wanted to make sure you’re still in.”
The charity race was one where amateur drivers—namely the major sponsors—got together and raced around the track a few times to raise money for charity.
It was an annual event for Scott Motorsport.
Last year, Dominic was the sponsor driver for MMD.
This year it was Matt’s turn. Over the summer, he had taken the required safety training classes.
The event would be held the last week of January.
“Yes, I’m still in.”