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was a warm, vibrant girl, just as her mother was, with a capacity to love that would humble any man.
    Ray’s first wife, Layne, had been an aloof woman. He’d cared for her though, loved her in a lot of ways, and the child they had together was a fine man. Ray knew that. But he was a man, in every sense of the word.
    He stared around the smoky establishment, looking for the boy. Hell, he couldn’t stop thinking of him as a boy. Or calling Rowdy one. He was still his son, no matter how many ways Ray might mess up. And he had messed up. Ray knew that.
    Rowdy was sitting alone at a far corner, a beer bottle between his hands, his head lowered. The weight of the world was settled on his son’s shoulders and Ray understood why. Rowdy came home expecting open arms and found a mess instead. Not just a mess, but a betrayal, because
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    Lora Leigh
    his dumbass father never had gotten the hang of how to discuss certain things with his son.
    Sex was a private thing to Ray. The things he and Maria did in their bed, he’d be mortified if anyone knew. And he knew his wife felt the same way. Some things should just always be private. His boy had never been that way. Rowdy had always been a sexual creature, ever since he figured out how special girls were.
    Ray stopped by the bar and purchased a bottle of Jack Daniels, snagged two glasses and made his way across the room. It was time to talk man to man, with no shame. That called for an iron backbone. Or plenty of whisky.
    He slammed the bottle on the table as Rowdy lifted his gaze. Yep, the boy was pissed off, clear down to his bones and Ray didn’t blame him.
    He pulled out a chair and sat down.
    “Some thing’s just call for a good drunk,” he said heavily, uncapping the whisky and pouring two small glasses full. “Childbirth. Your son’s first date. Your daughter’s near rape.” His throat tightened with the pain as he tossed back the dark liquid and poured another shot of courage.
    “And when a man fucks up and gets pissed off because he feels helpless, and hurts the people he loves the most.”
    He stared straight into Rowdy’s dark eyes, feeling his son’s pain as though it were his own.
    “I was pissed, boy,” Ray sighed. “I swore to her I wouldn’t tell. While she was all doped up on the pain medication the hospital pumped her full of, and hysterical, she told her mom about what happened at the lake with you before you left last year. She loves you. Always has. We’ve known that.” He swallowed tightly. “And I knew how bad you wanted her.” He paused, glancing away for a long second before pulling his gaze
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    NAUTI BUOY
    back to his son’s. “I never told you how much pride I had in you when you walked away, did I?”
    He saw his son’s surprise.
    “I didn’t figure you knew why I’d left.” Rowdy leaned back in his chair before picking up the whisky and throwing it back. He grimaced but held the burn of it.
    “I knew.” Ray sighed heavily. “I knew when you were twenty-two and as though overnight, she turned from a clumsy little urchin into a woman-child. I saw your face the day you realized it.”
    He watched the flush that rose over Rowdy’s face, the discomfort.
    “She was a kid.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “She’s not a kid anymore, Dad. She’s twenty-four, and a grown woman.”
    “And you were and still are a man.” Ray shook his head wearily before sipping at the whisky. “A good man. One any father could be proud of. You didn’t touch her, you did what you had to do and made no excuses or cast any blame. Though you could have. You left your home because of the girl—many men would have resented her. You would have been well within your rights to have protested how much Maria and I spoiled her.”
    “You should have told me that then,” Rowdy grunted. “She kept stealing my damned shirts. She still does it. I should have made you throw both Kelly and Maria out.”
    A grin tugged at his son’s lips. Ray