Off Limits Lovers. Reese Ryan

false charges and clear your name. But we do it the right way. That’s the only way this works. Got it?”

      The old man shrugged and rubbed a hand over his head. “Fine. We’ll do things your way. For now.”

      “Good.” It was the best Roarke could hope for. He drained the remainder of his whiskey and stood. “Now, I’m starving and I’m pretty sure I smell fried chicken. Oh, and there’s pie.”

      “What kind?” Sterling asked.

      A half grin curled Roarke’s mouth. “Texas pecan fudge from Farrah’s.”

      Sterling nodded approvingly. “Sounds good.”

      Maybe he’d found the key to enduring the next three days with his father. A vat of premium whiskey and a whole lot of pecan fudge pie.

      Roarke made his way upstairs, where his bag had already been taken, to get ready for dinner. But he couldn’t get the image of the gorgeous woman he’d encountered in the line at Farrah’s out of his head.

       Three

      Ryder Currin slid into a booth at Farrah’s Coffee Shop across from Angela and her brother, Roarke. He’d had the results of the paternity test delivered to his office at Currin Oil. They’d arrived a few hours earlier, but he hadn’t bothered to open the envelope. He knew full well what the test would reveal.

      “Thought you’d want the honors.” Ryder shoved the large white envelope across the table to Angela.

      Her hands were trembling as she picked the envelope up and handed it to Roarke. “Actually, Roarke, I think you should be the one to open it.”

      Her brother ripped the envelope open unceremoniously and scanned its contents. Roarke’s gaze met his as he slid the paper to his sister.

      Angela’s blue eyes quickly skimmed the document in search of the answer she so desperately needed.

      “There is no way the two of you are biologically related.” She squeezed her brother’s hand briefly, then turned her attention to Ryder. “I owe you quite the apology.”

      “Sounds like my cue to leave.” Roarke stood suddenly. Unlike his sister, who was elated by the news, Roarke seemed neither relieved nor disappointed by the paternity results. His expression was unreadable. “I have a few people to talk to about...a case I’m working on while I’m here.” He leaned down to kiss his sister’s cheek, then shook Ryder’s hand and left the shop.

      “I don’t even know where to begin,” Angela said once they were alone at the table. “Sorry seems like such an inadequate word.”

      “Maybe start with the fact that you should’ve believed me when I told you I never laid a hand on your mother that way.” The muscles in his jaw tensed.

      As a young hand working for Angela’s wealthy grandfather, Harrington York, on what was now called the Perry Ranch, he’d had a boyish crush on her mother, Tamara. A woman ten years his senior. They were friends, but nothing had ever happened between them.

      Both hurt and anger flared in Ryder’s chest. He was aggrieved by Angela’s lack of trust. He cared for her deeply. More so than he’d cared for any woman since cancer had taken away his wife Elinah thirteen years ago.

      He’d met Elinah, his second wife, during a project in Kenya. And she’d been the love of his life. He was grateful for the years he’d had with Elinah. They’d had his middle child, Annabel, and adopted a second daughter, Maya. And they’d been incredibly happy together for a little more than a decade.

      But then his world had been shattered.

      Ryder had doubted he’d ever find love like that again. How could anyone even come close to what he’d felt for his late wife?

      But then he’d gotten to know Angela Perry as they kept running into each other at various events related to bringing the Texas Cattleman’s Club to Houston. And for the first time, he felt hopeful that finding love again was possible.

      They’d both been smitten enough to pursue the relationship, despite their last names being like oil and water.

      She was the daughter of his enemy. A man who’d wronged him at every turn for more than twenty-five years. By all accounts, he should have distrusted her, too.

      But Angela was nothing like Sterling Perry. And though her stunning beauty and generous spirit sometimes reminded him of Tamara, she was very much her own woman.

      A woman he’d suspected he was falling for. But her inability to trust him changed everything. What would happen when the next gossipmonger questioned their relationship? Then there was the reality that Sterling would constantly be in her ear, whispering innuendos and half-truths. Trying to turn her against him. Would Ryder have to dance on hot coals to prove himself every time the wind blew with some new accusation?

      “You’re right.” Angela lowered her voice as she placed her soft, warm hands on his and met his gaze. “You’re a good, honest man, Ryder. I should’ve accepted your word, but—”

      “But the great Sterling Perry believed the rumor, so you felt it must’ve been true.” His tone was mocking. Something he hadn’t intended.

      Angela sighed heavily. “Look, I know you don’t like him, but he’s my father. Given the history between you two—”

      A bitter laugh erupted from Ryder involuntarily as he recalled the ugly history between them. Angela’s grandfather, Harrington York, had been fond of him. Upon his death, York bequeathed a prime parcel of land to Ryder that turned out to be oil rich.

      Inheriting that land had changed the course of his life. He’d gone from a modest ranch hand to the wealthy owner of an extremely profitable oil company. But Sterling, insistent that he should’ve inherited the land and jealous of the friendship Ryder had with Tamara, had tried to dispute the will.

      It’d been nearly three decades since he’d inherited that land from Harrington York. And yet, Sterling still pulled every dirty trick he could to interfere with the success of Ryder’s company and to muddy his reputation.

      “I don’t blame you for thinking the worst of him,” Angela continued, bringing Ryder back to the moment. “But I know my father. He’d never knowingly confirm an awful rumor like this unless he was convinced you were Roarke’s biological father.”

      “I told him, time and again, just like I told you...nothing happened between me and Tamara. Not ever.” He slid his hands from beneath hers and rapped the table emphatically with his index finger. “I respected your mother. And though I didn’t like the man she chose to marry, I respected their marriage.”

      “I know, and I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you.” She clasped her hands atop the table. After a few moments of silence, her eyes met his again. “So where does this leave us?”

      “I don’t know.” It pained him to say those words and to see the sadness it brought to her eyes. But he would always tell her the truth. “I need some time to figure that out.”

      “I understand.” Her gaze didn’t meet his as she fidgeted with the rings on her fingers. “I realize how angry you must be with me.”

      “I’m not angry,” Ryder corrected her with a shrug. “I’m just very...disappointed. But maybe this was the dose of reality we needed.”

      Her big blue eyes widened with panic. “Are you saying—”

      “I’m saying that I need time to think about the reality of our situation, and I think you do, too.” He leaned across the table and kissed her cheek, then left the coffee shop.

      Maybe lightning really did only strike once. And he should be content with his memories of the past.

      But as he walked away, all he could think of was how much he looked forward to speaking