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before breathing out roughly.
    “Hell. Fine. Whatever. But…” He glared back at the boy. “You don’t play with that girl, Rowdy. You better be damned serious before you end up in
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    Lora Leigh
    bed with her. Son or no son, I taught you respect. She’s not one of those little tramps you and Dawg screwed with when you were younger.”
    It was a warning he’d made when he first realized how sexual his son was. Good girls were solid gold. Not necessarily virgins, but the girls that understood a handy bed meant more than a place to fuck. A good girl understood responsibility, values and herself. A woman like that wasn’t a toy, she was a partner.
    “I know how to treat a woman, Dad,” Rowdy grunted. “All women. Not just Kelly.”
    Unlike Ray’s generation, Rowdy didn’t differ how he treated women in regards to their sexuality. One didn’t deserve less respect, or more, for the amount of experience they had in bed. Rowdy had argued that with his father many times. But love…that made a difference, and Ray knew it. And he knew his son was learning it.
    “So you’ll come home?” Ray’s throat was tight with emotion. Damn, he hated that. Hated knowing there was more he should say and not knowing how to say it.
    Rowdy looked over at him, his expression somber, his eyes, that deep sea-green, serious and thoughtful. He tossed back another shot of the whisky, his lips quirking as he set the glass down.
    “I missed you too, Dad,” he murmured.
    If that knot in his throat could have gotten tighter, it did. Ray swallowed then tried again. Finally, he poured another shot, drank it down and slapped the glass on the table before going for broke.
    “I love you, boy.” His voice was so rasping he was ashamed of it. “And I’m damned proud of you. Damned proud.”
    “I love you too, Dad.” That was his boy. Equal parts hellion and warrior but never afraid to say the words. “And I’m proud of you too.”
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    NAUTI BUOY
    He poured the glasses full again, they toasted each other and settled down for a serious drunk. Hell, Ray had been waiting on this day for nearly thirty years. There just wasn’t anything like having that first good drunk with your son, and knowing it meant something. Meant something damned fine.

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    Kelly heard the Harley coming up the drive with her stepfather’s truck as the clock flipped over to two in the morning. Her mother had been pacing the house, muttering to herself, worry creasing her brow.
    Maria turned to Kelly, her eyes dark as she watched her.
    “Are you sure?” Maria asked, her voice soft, uncertain.
    “For God’s sake.” Kelly felt like snarling the words. “Mom, have you and Ray lost your minds?” Sometimes Kelly thought the attack had been more traumatic on them in a lot of ways. Kelly was never really certain how she felt about it. Frightened, yes. Terrified sometimes, especially when the crank calls came. Knowing he was still out there kept her nerves on edge.
    “He’s always wanted you.” Maria had never been comfortable with that. Kelly had known it, though they never talked about it. Just as her mother knew Kelly had always wanted Rowdy. It was like some odd fact of life.
    “I’m not a little girl anymore,” she sighed, curling up on the sofa, watching her mother pace the living room as the vehicles shut off. “You know they’re both drunk, don’t you?”
    One of Rowdy’s friends had called from the bar. He hadn’t been too sober himself, warning them that the two men were heading home, thankfully being driven by friends rather than driving themselves.
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    Lora Leigh
    “Ray hasn’t been drunk since before we got married.” A smile curved her mother’s lips, and Kelly swore she looked a little too sensual to suit her. A daughter shouldn’t see things like that, she thought with a burst of humor.
    “Well, he’s drunk now.” She winced as it sounded like a load of bricks fell on the porch.
    “Hell boy, I thought you were holding me