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time, it was a big story in Midas. One of the reasons they moved across the country was to leave the notoriety behind. Norris wanted a quiet life where nobody knew about Maggie or her jailbird brother.
    Not that any of that stopped Norris from taking Dalton's money.
    "I know the money was to keep us quiet, but—"
    "That's bullshit, Maggie." Dalton wouldn't let his sister rewrite history. "I hoped you—and Norris—would respect my privacy. But the money was a gift. My way of helping out. It was never meant to be a bribe."
    "I'm sorry," gasped, her eyes wide with what looked like concern. "That isn't what I meant. Honestly. It's just that things have been tough—financially speaking. The story gave us a little boost. Please try to understand."
    "All you needed to do was call, Maggie. Have I ever turned you down when you needed something?"
    "Norris…" Maggie blinked, trying her best to summon up a tear. Dalton had seen their mother do the same thing more times than he could remember. "He's a proud man, Dalton."
    Not too proud to sponge off his parents. Or Dalton. The cash Norris received from the tabloid story was pocket change. He could have easily gotten more. A lot more. Suddenly, Dalton had a sickening thought.
    "Is there more to come, Maggie? More stories?"
    "I—" Maggie reached out, taking Dalton's hand. "Would it be so bad?"
    "That answers my question."
    Dalton wasn't worried about the truth. There were no deep, dark secrets that would destroy his world. But the tabloid rags weren't interested in the truth. With Norris feeding them information—real or made up—the embellishments could go on for months. It would be annoying. Possibly embarrassing. None of that would matter if Dalton were the only person affected. He had friends—his true family—back in Los Angeles. They would weather it together as they did everything else. But why should they have to?
    "How much to kill the stories?"
    "I don't know."
    Dalton had to hand it to Maggie. The way she wrung her hands and bit her lip. He could almost believe she felt something bordering on distress.
    "Have Norris call me." Dalton needed some fresh air. "And make certain he does it soon. Tomorrow at the latest, Maggie."
    "I will." Maggie followed him to the door. "I'm sorry, Dalton."
    Taking a deep breath, Dalton met his sister's gaze. "So am I."
    Dalton didn't know what he felt. Anger? Damn straight. But more at himself than Maggie. He should have taken his friends' advice and stayed in Los Angeles instead of dragging himself to fucking Arizona. He had convinced himself that he had to see his sister's face when he asked his questions. All he got for his troubles was a broken-down car and a splitting headache.
    The best thing would be to check into the only decent hotel in town. Take some aspirin and settle in for the evening. With any luck, Norris would grow a pair and call him tonight. He could be done with this mess and on his way back to civilization.
    That would be the best thing to do. Or he could say the hell with what was best and make the most of a royally fucked-up situation. Dalton ran a hand over the soft leather armrest, a speculative smile playing across his lips. He knew what his friends would say. Ryder would urge caution. Ashe would do the same—while encouraging him to have a little fun. Zoe would simply shake her head and call him an asshole whose brains were located in his dick.
    They would all be right.
    Picking up his phone, he scrolled through his contacts, stopping on the last—and newest number. Dalton paused, but only for a second. Hitting the keypad, he waited.
    "Hello?" The sound of Colleen's voice told Dalton everything he needed to know. He felt his shoulders begin to relax. Calling her had been the right decision.
    "What are you doing for dinner?"
    "Having it with you."
    Dalton grinned. Definitely the right decision.

CHAPTER FOUR
     
    DRESSING FOR A date with a rock star was no different than dressing for a date with a farmer. Or a