Birthright

too.”
    “Did they kill anybody?” Ty wanted to know.
    “Maybe.”
    “Ty’s very bloodthirsty these days.” Lana caught a movement out of the corner of her eye, turned. “Hello, Doug.”
    “Lana.” He studied the boy who was bouncing on the counter and trying to suppress, Doug imagined, the need to tell an adult to give him back his treasure.
    Pretty kid, he thought. Looked like his mother. Absently, Doug ran a hand over Ty’s tumbled hair. “You kill anyone lately?”
    Ty’s eyes went wide. “Nuh-uh. Did you?”
    “Nope.” He took the spear point from Jay, turned it over in his hand, then offered it back to Ty. “Are you going to be an archaeologist?”
    “I’m gonna be . . . what’s the other one?” he asked Lana.
    “Paleontologist,” she supplied.
    “I’m gonna be that, ’cause you get to find dinosaurs. Dinosaurs are the best. I got a sticker book about them.”
    “Yeah, they’re the best. I used to have a collection of dinosaurs. They were always fighting, trying to eat each other. Remember, Dad?”
    “Hard to forget the bloodcurdling screams and chomping.”
    “Is he your dad?” Ty wanted to know.
    “That’s right.”
    “My dad had to go to heaven, but he still watches out for me ’cause that’s what dads do. Right?”
    “We try.” Jay felt a fresh wave of grief wash through him.
    “Do you play baseball?” Fascinated, as always, with the concept of dads, Ty began to swing his legs. “I got to play T-ball, and Mom helped. But she doesn’t catch real good.”
    “Well, I like that.” Lana gave Ty a quick drill in the belly with her finger. “Do you have a minute?” Lana asked Doug. “I need to speak with you.”
    “Sure.”
    Since he made no move to lead her somewhere more private, she turned an exasperated look to Roger.
    “Leave the big guy with me,” Roger offered. “Doug, why don’t you take Lana in the back, get her a nice cold drink?”
    “Okay.” He gave Ty a tap on the nose. “See you later, Ty-Rex. What?” he demanded as Lana made a choking sound.
    “Nothing. Thanks, Roger. Nice to meet you, Mr. Cullen. Ty, behave.” With that, she followed Doug into the back room.
    “So.” She brushed back her hair as he dug in the mini-fridge for cold drinks. “I guess you didn’t enjoy yourself as much as I did the other night.”
    He felt a little finger of unease tickle its way up his spine. “I said I did.”
    “You haven’t called to ask if you could see me again.”
    “I’ve been tied up with things.” He held out a Coke. “But I thought about it.”
    “I can’t read your mind, can I?”
    As she opened the can, he thought about the way she looked in snug jeans. “Probably just as well,” he decided.
    She tilted her head. “You probably thought that was a compliment.”
    “Well, my thoughts were pretty flattering.” He popped the top, gave her another once-over as he lifted the can. “I didn’t figure you owned a pair of jeans. The other times I’ve seen you, you’ve been all spruced up.”
    “The other times I’ve either been working or going out to what I thought was a very nice dinner with an interesting man. Today, I’m playing with my son.”
    “Cute kid.”
    “Yes, I think so. If you’re going to ask me out, I’d like you to do it now.”
    “Why?” He felt his neck muscles tighten when she only arched her brows. “Okay, okay. Man. You want to go out tomorrow night?”
    “Yes, I would. What time?”
    “I don’t know.” He felt like he was being gently, thoroughly squeezed. “Seven.”
    “That’ll be fine.” With what she considered their personal business concluded, she set her briefcase on Roger’s desk. “Now that we’ve settled that, I should let you know I’m Callie Dunbrook’s lawyer.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “I’m representing Callie Dunbrook in the matter of establishing her identity.”
    Now those neck muscles bunched like fists. “What the hell does she need a lawyer for?”
    “That’s between my client and myself. However, this is one matter she directed me to share with you.” Lana opened her briefcase, took out legal papers. “I drew up these papers, per her request. She instructed me to give you a copy.”
    He didn’t reach out. He had to fight back the urge to hold his hands behind his back. First she maneuvers him into a date—date number two, he amended. Then she drops the bomb. And all without breaking a sweat.
    All while looking like Vogue ’s version of the casual, country