Waiting On The Rain (The Walker Brothers Book 3)

by Claudia Connor

  “Are you kidding? After all the time we spent making the perfect plate?”

  She smiled, pretty sure by the sound of his voice that he was looking right at her. She’d thrown out the blind bomb and he’d handled it. As far as she could tell, he hadn’t even fumbled. Unless he was just very good at covering. Some people were. “Well, you’re in luck. I didn’t come with anyone. Hannah invited me. I think she feels sorry for me.”

  “That’s—”

  “No, not because I’m blind,” she said quickly. “Just because she feared for my sanity. I’m only in town helping out after my dad’s knee replacement.”

  “That’s tough. How’s it going?”

  “It’s going. But, like you said, it’s tough.”

  “Mmm.” He took one of the long rolled up things. “How do you know Hannah?”

  “I’ve been riding at Freedom Farm for a couple of weeks now. A gift from my sister-in-law.”

  “Huh. How do you like it?”

  “I like it a lot.” Ava picked up her fork and ran it over the plate of cookies, feeling them through the utensil. “Where should I start?” She tapped the tips of her fork over the plate. “What’s this one?”

  “That’s the powdered sugar ball. A butter ball, I think they’re called.”

  “Mmm. What do you think? Should I go for it? I don’t usually just pop unknown foods into my mouth. My brother says I eat like a squirrel. Or a rat.”

  “That’s brothers for you. Here. A fork’s not going to work.” He took the utensil from her.

  “Just so you know,” she said, “If I was alone, I’d be fondling the hell out of these cookies.”

  The word fondling had certain images coming to Luke’s mind as he guided her soft, cool hand to the cookie she wanted. “There.” He watched her lift the ball to her mouth, felt his pulse jump as her lips parted then closed around it.

  “Mmm. I love these,” she mumbled around the mouthful. Then laughed, spraying out a puff of powdered sugar before she slapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m tho thorry!”

  “Not a problem.” He bit back a chuckle and popped the same cookie into his own mouth, unable to stop looking at her.

  “Okay. That was amazing,” she said. “Maybe worth getting burned for.” She reached for another one and stopped. “Sorry. I don’t want to touch your cookies.”

  “Our cookies. And go ahead. I’ve been in the army. We eat with our hands all the time. And trust me, you’ll be the cleanest person that’s ever ah… touched my cookies.”

  She laughed clear and bright and held her hand out. “Hit me with another one.”

  Had he ever been so entertained eating cookies with a woman? Not just entertained, but captivated. “Can you see it at all? Shit,” he said the second the words were out. He just wanted to know about her, but… “Sorry. That was definitely not PC, and I…” He shook his head at himself.

  “It’s fine. And fair, since I’m touching your…cookies. And the answer is, no. I’m one of the few blind people that have no sight at all.”

  He stared at her, drinking his fill. “You’d never know it.”

  “I know. It’s a nerve thing, a disconnect is the easiest way to explain it, between the optical nerve and my brain. My eyes— the muscles, the corneas and all are actually normal.”

  She angled her face down to her plate. Strands of silky, blond hair fell around her face, blocking his view. He was still kicking himself for even asking, but her eyes were so far from normal. Beautiful didn’t cut it either. They were extraordinary. The purest, brightest blue. Uniform in color. No speckles of another color, no variation.

  She looked at the plate of cookies, or seemed to, and they sat a few minutes without talking. Chewing on cookies, listening to the band, sudden movements of people around him catching his eye, but not really paying attention.

  He’d rather look at her. What could it be like? To see nothing? Just darkness? Even crawling through the darkest of nights he had night vision goggles. And maybe it wasn’t darkness that she saw. “Where’d you come from?”

  “New York.”

  “Ooh.”

  “What? You don’t like the city?”

  “By city you mean millions of people? Streets that smell like sewers? Horns blasting?”

  “Wow. I’m going to take that as a no. Are you the brother that just got out of the military? Hannah might have mentioned her brother situation,” she added with a smile, when he didn’t immediately answer. “FBI. Army Ranger. Firefighter. Cop. Poor girl.” She smiled again. “I imagine the military’s loud.”

  “It is. Different though because I’m the one making the noise.” He held his breath, hoping she didn’t ask for details the way some people did.

  “Well, city life’s not for everyone. Hannah mentioned you’re building the cabins for her camp. That’s nice.”

  She smiled, her eyes not meeting his exactly, but close enough and whatever tension he’d felt eased.

  “How about one of those mini cannoli things,” she said, aiming her fork at the edge of her plate.

  He gave her one, took one for himself. He was about to ask her how city life worked not being able to see anything when his sister caught his attention from the edge of the dance floor. With both of her hands locked tightly in Stephen’s, Hannah pointedly dipped her head at Luke, then jerked it toward Ava. Luke pretended he didn’t understand this weird sign language she was giving him. Luckily, Stephen spun her around before she got a crick in her neck.

  The music slowed and the opening chords of a well-known song played. “The band’s good,” she said, reaching out carefully for her glass of ice water.

  “Yeah. They are.”

  She took a sip, then carefully, put it back in its place.

  He looked past Ava’s shoulder and Hannah was back again, this time pointing animatedly at him, then at Ava, then the dance floor. Yeah, yeah. He got the message. And okay fine, he could manage one dance. He’d never hear the end of it if he didn’t. “Let’s dance.”

  “Nah. I’m good.”

  “Aww, come on. If you step on my feet, I won’t even notice.”

  “Well, thanks for that, but—”

  “But what? I’m the black sheep of the family,” he said. “If anyone’s looking, they’ll be looking at me.” He slid his chair back from the table and stood.

  “Why are you the black sheep?”

  “A story for another day. Come on.” He touched her arm lightly to guide her up beside him. “If we sit here debating it’ll be over and then you’ll be crying on your cookies.”

  “Excuse me? I will not be crying if I don’t get to dance with you, but fine.” She scooted back and stood. “You’ll have to help me navigate,” she said, adjusting her hand.

  “No problem. Truth is, I’m not much of a dancer so I’ll get us through the maze and you can take it from there?”

  “Deal.”

  4

  Luke moved slowly, doing his best to be mindful of Ava as they made their way to the dance floor. “I can see why you’d need a guide. This is a minefield.” He pushed a chair in that blocked his path so he could lead her around the one in hers. Her shoe caught on something and her grip tightened on his arm.

  “Hold up.” He bent, saw her heel——the type designed to make a man beg—was caught on a chain attached to a small purse. The hem of her dress hit just above her knees, and he patted her calf, felt the firm, smooth skin there and— Get a grip, Walker. “Lift up. Okay, got it.” With the danger averted, they continued. “Diaper bag straight ahead,” he said, steering her clear.

  Finally, they stepped off the carpet and onto the wood of the temporary dance floor. “Made it,” he said, turning to face her.

  She angled her head up toward the sound of his voice. “We did. Thank you.”

  “Now it’s your turn.” He waited for her to make the move, noticing every detail while he did. The way the silky fabric hung from the narrowest of straps and draped over her breasts, leaving the pale skin of
her chest bare. Not nearly as revealing as some and twice as sexy. He watched her chest rise and fall just above the edge of her dress, bare except for a small silver heart on a delicate chain. Small diamond studs sparkled at her ears.

  She reached out slowly until her hand touched him just below the center of his chest. There was power in her delicate hand, he thought, as she slid it slowly up his chest and it was suddenly hard to breathe.

  “You’ve lost your choking tie,” she said, her unseeing eyes following the path of her hand until she found his shoulder.

  “Yeah.” He took her right hand in his, slid his other around her waist over cool slippery fabric. Then farther until he felt the warm, smooth skin. With the slightest pressure on her lower back, she moved into him. Her face was turned so that just a little more, a little closer, and she’d be resting her cheek against his chest.

  Hard when I can’t see them. The words replayed in his mind.

  She couldn’t see.

  He knew guys who’d lost eyes to roadside bombs. Had seen bloody faces, charred skin. His concept of blind was so completely at odds with the woman in his arms. She wasn’t injured, wasn’t broken. And right now he didn’t want to think about anything other than how it felt to dance with her. And it felt pretty damn good.

  Her body was soft against his, her scent fresh and sweet and utterly female.

  She turned her face toward his chest, squelched up her nose just a little and sniffed. “Do you have a baby?”

  He groaned. “I know. I stink.”

  “Not stink. Exactly.”

  “My nephew barfed on me and of course my brother thought it was hilarious.” Looking up at him, she smiled again and even without seeing, there was laughter in her eyes. Was it wrong to stare when she didn’t know he was staring? He hoped not because he couldn’t stop himself. Without a pause, the band moved right into another slow song for which he was grateful, because he wasn’t quite ready to let her go.

  Ava felt his hand, firm and warm on her lower back. She felt the buzz along her skin at the feel of his big, hard hand gripping hers and the rise of muscles in his shoulder under her other. Each sway of the music brought them closer together.

  Luke’s fingers curled around hers and he brought their joined hands to his chest. There was strength and competence in the way he’d led her to the dance floor and in the way he held her now. Close, but not too tight. He made her smile. Surprising given the way she’d felt about men the past year. And even more surprising was the hot, little thrill that skated up her spine at the feel of his hands on her skin.

  He certainly didn’t seem to have two left feet as he’d alluded to. Of course the kind of dancing they were doing was probably more a reflection of how the man moved off the dance floor. Not where her mind needed to go.

  The tempo picked up but he made no move to leave. Instead he took both of her hands and stepped back, until her arms were straight out.

  “Interesting song choice,” he said, and she heard the laughter in his voice.

  He pulled her back in and they both sang the chorus about a couple with suspicious minds. He had a low, smooth singing voice.

  “You lied,” she said. “You do know how to dance.”

  “Well, I haven’t smashed your toes, so that’s something. But then you can’t see me.” He turned them in a circle. “I could be horrible.”

  She laughed. “True.”

  A new song started up and from the murmurs around her the crowd approved.

  “And…. that’s my cue to vacate the dance floor,” Luke said.

  “What? Why?”

  “Oh, um. People are lining up like they’ve all practiced this one and I definitely have not. Want a drink? Or we can go back to the cookies?”

  “A drink’s good.”

  With Ava’s hand tight in his, Luke started to lead her between the first and second line of dancers toward the bar. He hadn’t gone more than a couple of steps when he felt her resistance and looked back. Her brow was furrowed and the hand he wasn’t holding was out to her side as if she was feeling her way in the dark. Because, damn it, that’s exactly what she was doing.

  “Sorry.” In the span of one dance, he’d already forgotten. He backed up, slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side effectively steering her through the crowd toward the bar. He pulled a stool out at one of three high tops situated between the dance floor and the bar. “What’ll you have?”

  “Um… A beer? Something light?”

  “Got it.”

  He was back in less than a minute with two cold bottles. “They were out of cups. Sorry.”

  “No problem.”

  Luke watched her reach out, feeling for the bottle. She found it before he could apologize for just clunking it down on the table for her to search for.

  “This guy bothering you?”

  Luke didn’t bother turning to look at the voice behind him, just hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “My brother, the groom, and his idiot firefighter friends.”

  “I take offense to that,” one of them said. “Why don’t you introduce us to your friend?”

  Before he could, his sister was there.

  “Ava! I’m so sorry!”

  Hannah slipped an arm around Ava’s waist and they gave each other the quick and easy hug of girlfriends. If his sister was shocked he’d actually asked Ava to dance, she covered it well.

  “I told you I’d be right back and then Will needed a change and I couldn’t find his bag. I didn’t want to ask Nora or Zach and—”

  “It’s fine. Really.”

  “I guess you found someone else.”

  “Yeah. Or he found me.”

  “Rescued you,” Luke said.

  Ava rolled her eyes, and lifted the beer to her lips.

  “I think you should know,” Zach said, leaning in. “My brother here is ugly as a troll. Uglier.”

  “Really? Well, that changes everything.”

  She turned her head in his direction and when she smiled he felt a clutch in his gut. He was still staring when Mia walked up.

  “Nice to meet you, Ava,” Mia said. “Hannah’s mentioned how much you’re helping her with camp preparations.”

  “Oh, not much,” Ava said, turning the bottle in her hands. “Just answering a few questions.”

  “Are you kidding? You’ve been a lifesaver, but we’re not talking about that tonight. I’m on a break from all things stressful.”

  “Where’s Will now?” Mia asked.

  “Nora’s friend from work took him. She’s changing his clothes, bless her. Hey, you guys should hit the cookie table.”

  “We did,” he and Ava said in unison.

  Hannah gave him a curious look. “Well, make sure you fill a to-go bag, or two. The McKinney women are obviously used to baking for an army. Please don’t make me haul all those cookies to my house.”

  “Why doesn’t Zach haul his own cookies?” Nick asked.

  “Because he and Nora are leaving on their honey moon tonight. But,” Hannah held up a finger. “I could stash all the leftovers in their freezer instead of mine. Then Nora can gain twenty pounds instead of me.”

  Nick shook his head. “Why are women always worried about gaining weight? You can put cookies in my freezer any damn time.”

  “Mine, too,” Zach said.

  “Thank you both for your sacrifice. But still,” she said, turning to Ava. “Please, make a few bags to go. You could take one to your dad.”

  “Thanks, he’d love that.”

  The group chatted a few more minutes, before he and Ava were left alone to finish their beers. The band leader announced it was time for the tossing of the bouquet and called all single women. There were laughs and squeals as some women rushed to the dance floor and some were pulled along. The band leader called again, cajoling all the women to get up and get out there.

  “You’re not going for that?” Luke asked.

  “Ha. My hand eye coordination isn’t the best.”

 
; “Sorry.”

  She waved it off. “You wouldn’t catch me out there even if I could see.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because getting married is the last thing I would ever do. And if I want flowers, I’ll buy my own.”

  He’d bet there was a story in there somewhere. He heard it in the tone and in the words she didn’t say. He was tempted to press on that, dig for answers. Not smart for a man who didn’t want anyone digging into his.

  A dark-haired woman walked swiftly up to their table. “Hey, Luke, Ava. Sorry to interrupt but have you seen any kids by chance? About this high, she held her hand at hip level. Blond hair? Probably into mischief?”

  “You might check under the cookie table.”

  She sighed. “Not again.”

  “Hey. You didn’t hear that from me.”

  “Thanks,” she said and went off in that direction.

  “Was that Abby?”

  “Uh…I’m not sure of her name. Married to my sister’s brother-in-law, Matt. You know her?”

  “I’ve met her. She brings her daughter out to ride.”

  And she remembered by the sound of her voice. Luke wondered how many people he could pick out by their voice alone.

  “I should make those to-go bags before I forget.” She reached around her, then froze. “Shoot. My cane is at the table.”

  Luke took Ava’s hand, wrapping her fingers around his bicep so that she walked beside him much like an escort. Her steps were tentative and hesitant and he slowed his pace to meet hers.

  “Would it be better for you to walk behind me? Tuck your hand into my belt?”

  He instantly imagined her small fingers slipping into the band of his pants and… “Never mind. I’m not asking you to put your hand in my pants.”

  Her lips twitched. “Sounds like you were,” she said, her voice light and teasing.