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Zoe & Dylan: The Sons of Dusty Walker, #2

Zoe & Dylan: The Sons of Dusty Walker, #2

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Zoe & Dylan: The Sons of Dusty Walker, #2

122 pages
1 hour
May 25, 2016


Dylan Walker is no stranger to challenges. Discovering he had a family he knew nothing about? Hell, piece of cake compared to his current dilemma—hustling his bride-to-be to the altar. Might as well kiss goodbye any hope of Zoe making an honest man out of him before year’s end, what with them juggling the demands of a new business and the constant hiccups foiling their upcoming nuptials. To make matters worse, their soon-to-be in-laws have become a regular fixture at the homestead. Not exactly conducive to quality intimate time with his woman.

Solution? Whisk her away for some hot lovin’ guaranteed to set the bedsheets ablaze. Sweet talking Zoe into a little naughty nookie hooky is one thing. Persuading her to throw her wedding planner in the trash and elope instead? Not so fast, cowboy. But as the countdown to the big day draws near, Dylan and Zoe find out fate has one more surprise in store for them.

May 25, 2016

About the author

At the ripe age of seven, Jodi Redford penned her first epic, complete with stick figure illustrations. Sadly, her drawing skills haven't improved much, but her love of fantasy worlds never went away. These days she writes about fairies, ghosts, and other supernatural creatures, only with considerably more heat.She has won numerous contests, including The Golden Pen and Launching a Star.When not writing or working the day job, she enjoys gardening and way too many reality television shows.Jodi loves to hear from readers. You can email her at jodiredford@jodiredford.comand visit her online at www.jodiredford.com

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Zoe & Dylan - Jodi Redford


Dylan Walker stomped into the living room of his farmhouse and thunked down his overstuffed duffle bag. Lucy, I’m home.

A questionable banging noise rose from the kitchen, followed by the distinct patter of feet pistoning across the wooden floor boards. Moments later, a toddler-sized tornado of energy barreled into him. Chuckling, Dylan hauled his three-year-old son into his arms. No amount of squirming on Hunter’s end saved him from his daddy’s tickle attack. Grinning at his boy’s giggle fit, Dylan ruffled Hunter’s perpetually messy brown hair.

A delicate cough intruded on the moment, dragging Dylan’s focus to the kitchen doorway. Zoe leaned against the frame, delectable enough to eat in her pink-checked shirt and frayed denim shorts. She arched an eyebrow. That was the shortest big boys’ sleepover in history.

She was referring to the weeklong stay he and his brothers had originally planned at their father’s house on Osprey Lake. Good as the idea seemed at the time, the reality of four grown-ass men moping over being separated from their sweethearts for seven whole days had been too obnoxious to bear. We decided it made more sense to plan a few outings over the next few days rather than stay at Dusty’s place.

Zoe’s eyes sparkled. Yeah, mighta saved yerselves a few tussles and dustups.

What are you implying, woman? That us Walker men are uncivilized roughnecks?

Her smile saucy, Zoe sashayed toward him, the mesmerizing sway of her hips threatening to short-circuit his brain cells. I’m only assuming your brothers are a sight less troublesome than you.

His growl coming out as a half laugh, he tugged her to him and caught her bottom lip between his teeth before kissing her with enough determination and tongue to trigger a pretty pink bloom across her cheeks. Just as he was really getting into the kiss, a pint-sized pair of fingers tweaked his ear hard, earning his wince. Reluctantly sliding his mouth from Zoe’s, he met Hunter’s solemn gaze.

No biting, ‘member?

Dylan sensed Zoe’s desperate struggle not to laugh. He set Hunter down and smoothed a hand over the boy’s unruly cowlick. You’re absolutely right, Little Man. Next time I won’t bite mama. Promise.

Bobbing his head in approval of that plan, Hunter skipped toward the kitchen. We’re making cookies!

As soon as their son was out of earshot, Dylan ducked his head toward Zoe’s. That was a complete lie. I’m gonna bite ya in all the good places later.

Figured as much. Her lips twitching, she scooted around him. Unable to resist the seductive jiggle of her ass, he awarded her tush a firm swat.

See what I mean? Absolute troublemaker. Chortling, she dashed toward the kitchen.

Somehow he found enough willpower not to chase after her. Later though? She was so getting it. All night long, if he had his way.

Yeah, he wasn’t ashamed to admit he was mighty happy he and his brothers opted out of the sleep over. Whistling, he grabbed his duffel and journeyed upstairs to stash his gear in his and Zoe’s bedroom. He glanced around the cozy space, a strong sense of home washing over him. Although he’d only been living here for roughly a month, the farmhouse felt more like home to him than any other place he’d hung his cowboy hat during his twenty-five years on God’s green earth.

Of course, anywhere Zoe and Hunter were was home to him. Crazy to think that prior to a month ago he hadn’t even known he was a father. If not for his own dad’s death, he’d probably still be back in Nashville. Or more likely on the road touring with his band, Truckstop Pickup. But thirty days ago his world had been rocked with the news of Dusty’s passing. His father had died instantaneously in a car crash, along with his wife, Theresa—a woman who wasn’t Dylan’s mother. He’d been well aware of the events surrounding his conception. For years his bastard status had been a burden that weighed heavily on him. His mother tried to convince him it didn’t matter—that he was born out of love—but it’d made no difference to him. In his mind, he was an afterthought. A mistake. The one thing he hadn’t been aware of? He wasn’t Dusty’s only illegitimate offspring. The old man had been plenty busy setting up house with three other women besides his wife and Dylan’s mom. Which explained why Dylan had seen very little of his father growing up.

He’d about lost his shit when he’d walked into the lawyer’s office for the reading of the will and came face to face with a trio of men who could have passed for his doppelgangers. His brothers had been equally shocked by the meeting, seeing how Dusty kept each of them a secret all those years. Dylan had naturally assumed nothing could top that awkward sons of Dusty Walker family reunion. But you know what they say about that assuming thing. Yeah, fate had quickly set him straight there—in the form of a three-year-old toddler. Once he’d recovered from that earthshattering revelation he’d set all of his energy on making Zoe and Hunter a permanent fixture in his life. He probably sucked hard at this daddy business plenty of days. But while he might be a slow learner, he made up for it with a mountain of determination on his side.

And he had a strong feeling he’d need every ounce of that determination to get Zoe closer to setting a wedding date. It’d been a month since he’d popped the question. Although she’d said yes, every time he brought up the possibility of them making concrete plans she’d found one reason or another to hem and haw over the matter. Granted, school had just started up again. Add her full time music teaching along with the occasional private lesson, and her schedule was pretty jam-packed. And that was without considering the extra hours she put in helping him with the initial startup phase of the Walker Pendergrass Band Camp. All that in mind, no wonder she was reluctant to set those wedding bells ringing right now.

At least he prayed that’s all it was.

He knew without question that Zoe loved him with her whole heart and wanted to be with him. But there were ghosts from her past that still haunted her. 

Part of the reason Zoe kept Hunter a secret was her own complicated relationship with her father—a man who also happened to be the lead singer star power behind Dylan’s band. Up until a month ago, Zoe and Luke hadn’t been on speaking terms, much less seen each other in years. Mostly that was due to Luke being one of the shittiest dads in existence and a raging drunk. The man was working hard to change his ways and make amends for the past, but Zoe’s insecurities and emotional scars were slow to heal. Although she seldom brought it up these days, he knew she still harbored the lingering fear that he’d eventually abandon her and their son like Luke had done to her.

No way in hell. His life started the day she and Hunter entered the picture. He wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the family they’d created. And with his own childhood holding far too many memories of a distant father, not being around to see Hunter grow up? Not a fucking chance.

Lan, we making cookies! Hunter’s excited shout carried from the bottom of the stairs. The abbreviated version of Dylan’s name was the only thing his son called him by. He’d be a damned liar if he didn’t admit to the tiny ache in his heart whenever he heard it. But just like the boy’s mama, Hunter needed adjusting time. Dylan would patiently wait for that first treasured daddy to one day fall from his son’s mouth. That’s all he could do.

You come down?

He smiled, his heart filling with so much joy, it brought its own brand of hurt. Only this kind was a good one. The best of them all. His boy wanted to spend time with him. If that didn’t make up for not hearing a certain word, nothing did. I sure am, son. So don’t you eat my cookies. He tagged the last part with his best Cookie Monster impression.

A raucous laugh and stampeding footsteps in the opposite direction prompted Dylan’s chuckle. Shaking his head, he clomped down the steps.


Goddamn, I’m the luckiest sonofabitch on earth. Dylan stretched out on the comfy bed he shared with his bride-to-be and folded his arms behind his head, his enraptured stare pinned on Zoe as she brushed her hair.

Oh yeah? She grabbed his cowboy hat from the peg and tilted it at a rakish angle on her pink-tipped blonde

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