“You need to be careful.” Walker glared at her. “You don’t work in the restaurant alone at night, do you? Because that would just be crazy in this day and age.”
“No, I’m not alone there.”
“Good.” He held out a bottle of water. “Drink this,” he ordered.
“Are you bossing me around?”
“Damn straight I am. Someone has to,” Walker muttered.
“Okay.” Jilly felt a little zinging sensation in her chest. She was pretty sure it had nothing to do with dehydration and everything to do with the way Walker’s fingers suddenly slid up into her hair.
“Hold still,” he said roughly.
All the noise in the room, all the bustle and distant sirens, seemed to fade. She was mesmerized by the intensity of Walker’s eyes as he lifted a strand of hair from her neck. The brush of his calloused fingers along the nape of her neck made her feel disoriented. “Walker, what—”
“You’ve got something sooty on your neck,” he said gruffly. “Don’t move.”
Jilly couldn’t have moved if her life depended on it. She could smell the scent of his body, a mixture of wood smoke, some kind of pine soap and leather. His breath touched her hair as he leaned down and gently lifted something from her neck. Jilly hadn’t known that a man could be this gentle, that calloused fingers could move with such slow care. “Did you—” She had to stop and clear her throat. “Is it gone?”
“There’s one more piece. It probably happened when you grabbed that lid. It was reckless of you to come in here, Jilly.” His hands stopped moving. Jilly felt his breath brush her cheek. “Brave, but reckless,” he said softly. “Do you always charge at life like this?”
“Pretty much. My friends say that I have two speeds in my life. Fast forward and downright crazy.” She frowned, remembering the fights that she, Grace, Caro and Olivia had had on this particular subject. “I happen to have a lot of energy. I also like to set goals and keep them. What’s wrong with that?”
“There’s a difference between setting goals and putting yourself in mortal danger.” Walker’s hand rose and Jilly saw that he was cupping a wisp of burned paper. Again she had the sense of a powerful man capable of patience and infinite care.
And Jilly didn’t know what to make of that. Admittedly, her experience with men was limited. An orphan, she had grown up without a father, uncles or brothers. She had seen her friends’ families and had learned how deep and unbreakable the bonds of blood could be. But it was always someone else’s family. As for relationships, there hadn’t been many. She’d always been too busy chasing her dream of a cooking empire. Her few involvements had been with fellow cooks; their time together had been fun and intense, but with no permanency.
Because Jilly wanted, suddenly, to move closer and smooth the frown lines from Walker’s face, she forced herself to stop. She had to think clearly.
She took a step backward. There was no way she was going to fall apart over a man, especially a man she would never see again after her stay.
She took another step. The movement was harder than she had expected. “The emergency appears to be over, so I’ll go back to my room.”
She had to get away from Walker.
There was something about his calm control that knocked her usual equilibrium way off-kilter. For some reason, she was thinking about a relationship, digging into all the secrets hidden behind Walker’s stoic exterior.
Jilly squared her shoulders, angry at herself for wanting to stay. She gave Winslow’s head a scratch, took her bag from the table and headed to the door. “See you later, Walker.”
Walker murmured to Winslow, who darted in front of her. Tail wagging, the big dog blocked her way.
“Sorry, Winslow. Gotta go. Calls to make and rows to knit.”
The dog’s tail kept thumping. He didn’t move.
With an irritated sigh Jilly turned back to Walker, who was still leaning calmly against the kitchen counter. “Do you mind asking your dog to get out of my way?”
“I do. You may develop symptoms of smoke inhalation. I figure I should keep an eye on you.”
His expression was unreadable. Something about the darkness in his eyes made Jilly feel a little breathless. “Keep your eye on me how?” Great. Now her grammar was tanking along with her common sense.
“For starters, Win and I are going to walk you back to your room.”
“I don’t need—”
“No, probably not. But it’s the right thing to do.” Walker took Jilly’s arm and guided her to the door. “As for what happens after that, we’ll just have to see.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
JILLY FIGURED THINGS should have been more chaotic. People should have been frightened or angry. But the staff had moved into full gear and announced impromptu dining on the outdoor patio behind the meeting rooms. Jilly could see Red and half-a-dozen kitchen staff working a barbecue, and it appeared that free drinks were being served.
As usual, Walker had been right. She was feeling effects of smoke inhalation. Her throat was raw, her eyes burned and she panted slightly as she walked up the path to her cabin. In the gathering dusk, she lost her footing and was relieved to feel Walker’s arm slide under her elbow. When he pulled her closer against his side, Jilly had to work not to sigh in pleasure.
When had she felt so comfortable with a man? When had she felt so…protected?
One simple answer. Never.
They didn’t talk. For some reason they didn’t need to.
The silence between them was very calm, wrapping Jilly in warm fingers.
Added to the feelings she was starting to think of as the Walker Effect, Jilly had to factor in the sheer pleasure of Winslow’s presence. The dog explored every detail around him, and nothing got past him. The bond between man and dog was almost powerful enough to touch. It was clear that they had been through hardships together. Even if Jilly hadn’t known the full story of Walker’s heroism in the war, she would have sensed a history between the two.
Winslow bounded around her in happy circles, nudging her pockets, wagging his tail and shoving at her hand to be petted. Since Jilly was missing her own dog painfully, she was more than happy to oblige.
“If Winslow starts bothering you, just tell me. He seems to have taken a real shine to you,” Walker said gruffly.
“What bother? He’s fantastic. Plus, I have to admit that I’m missing my dog, Duffy, even though he’s safe with my friends. You’d really like Duffy.” She reached down, scratching the dog’s head, laughing when he gave a little yowl of pleasure.
“I don’t want him to be a nuisance.” Walker studied her face in the gathering shadows. “There’s something else, and I’ll just go ahead and say it. I don’t think you were telling that EMS worker the whole truth. When he asked about your medical history, you closed up. If there’s something wrong, I need to know about it. I’ll get you right to the hospital.”
“Why do you care?” Jilly blurted out the question. “You barely know me.”
Walker slid a hand into his hair, frowning. “I care. That’s all.”
“But why?”
Walker glared at her. “Damn, Jilly. Does it take a reason? People look out for people. If you’re in trouble, I’d like to help.”
Oh, now Jilly understood. So it wasn’t personal. This odd attraction she was feeling for Walker was one-sided.
Ignoring her disappointment, she summoned a smile. “That’s nice. I guess I’m a little prickly. Sorry.”
“No need to apologize.”
Jilly knew she couldn’t hide from any mention of her condition. But talking about it wasn’t easy. “There is more, Walker. It’s—complicated. I’m still trying to sort it all out.”
“Go ahead. I’m listening.”
She watched the first star appear above the distant mountains, a pinpoint that glowed against the purple sky. “Here’s the gist of it. One night during dinner service I collapsed in the restaurant. Totally blacked out. I had a lot of tests in
the hospital after that, and the consensus is that I have a long-standing heart defect. It appears to have caused some kind of cardiac event.”
“You mean you had a heart attack?” Walker demanded, stopping to stare at her.
Jilly hated the words. She couldn’t bear to think them, much less say them out loud. But she forced herself to nod. “Yes. A heart attack. A very small one, the doctors tell me.” She took his hand and pulled him forward. “Let’s keep walking. It makes this whole subject easier to bear.” She cleared her throat when his fingers slid through hers and tightened. There was the heat again, sharp and insidious.
“So what happened then?”
“My doctors… Well, they want more tests. When I get back, I have to go for another stress analysis. As for my job, being a chef in a busy restaurant isn’t an option. I have to slow down. I’m going to have to learn a new speed for my life. And I hate it,” she said fiercely. “I worked so hard. Things were just starting to grow. I could see the future taking shape, and then everything went to hell.” Her voice wavered. “I don’t want to change,” she said angrily.
“Nobody does. Change is hard.” A small branch had fallen across the path, and Walker took her hand, helping her climb over it. Jilly closed her eyes, memorizing the smell of his skin and the clean feel of the wind on her face.
Since she was finally talking about her situation, she might as well blurt out the rest. “The truth is that so far I’m making a big mess of things. I can’t face losing my restaurant, but it may happen unless I can find someone completely reliable to manage it with me. I’ve postponed detailed discussions with my suppliers. I’ve avoided straight explanations with my staff,” she said quietly. “I’ve almost alienated my friends, who are just trying to help me do the right thing.” She stopped abruptly and turned to stare at Walker. “Why am I telling you all this?”
He chuckled. “Simple. Because I’m a stranger. It doesn’t matter. These other people? They’re important.”
Jilly wasn’t so sure about that. The second part, yes. But she did value Walker’s judgment. And she was finding it all too easy to walk next to him and talk about a subject that was very painful. It didn’t make any sense.
Jilly was definitely going to have to consider the ramifications of that.
She frowned as they started back up the path. “You may be right. All I know is that I’ve made a general mess of things. Somehow it seems easier to face that mess when I’m up here, breathing this clear mountain air, a couple of states away from Oregon. And I still feel angry. I keep hoping I’ll wake up to find it was all a bad dream. I mean, I’m barely twenty-seven. Who has a heart attack at twenty-seven?”
“You’re right, it doesn’t seem fair.” Walker leaned down to scratch Winslow’s head, using the steady, calm movements that Jilly had begun to recognize as a sign that he was thinking hard. And though the old Jilly would have begun to chatter, avoiding deeper truths, she didn’t do that. She just kept walking beside him in the soft blue night, surprised that some of his calm had begun to rub off on her.
As more stars burned to life above the mountains, Jilly felt the hectic pace of her life slow down. It wasn’t that all her questions were answered or she had become any less afraid of her future. But here and now she was able to wrap up those fears and slide them into a little box, pushing it out of sight for a short time while she found the strength to press on.
She ran her hand along Winslow’s back, enjoying the feel of the smooth, warm fur. They came to the top of the hill, and Jilly reached into her pocket for the key to her room. When she opened the door, Winslow raced inside, sniffing the air, checking out every corner.
High energy, Jilly thought. She knew just how that felt. She had always had energy to burn, and no reason to throttle down her life.
Until now.
She turned slowly, seeing Walker’s hard face half in shadow. Something made her raise her hand and touch his cheek. The slightest touch. But she couldn’t seem to stop herself. “So…do you want to come in? I don’t have wine, but I do have something in my suitcase that you might like.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That underwear—I mean lingerie—that fell out at the airport?”
Jilly’s face filled with heat. “Forget about my lingerie, Walker.”
“Hard to do. Especially something as nice as that. It makes a man think…” Walker cleared his throat.
Jilly stood staring at him. “So you liked the lingerie.”
“Maybe.”
“And it got you just a little stirred up.” She felt a sharp kick of excitement, thinking about what it would be like to wear a sheer piece of lace for Walker’s appreciation. The thought made her pulse skip. “But you don’t show it. You don’t show much emotion at all.”
Walker shrugged. “Kind of a habit…” He caught her hand when she tried to pull away. “Look, it did get me stirred up, Jilly. You get me stirred up,” he said roughly. “Hell if I know why. We barely know each other.”
Jilly didn’t mind that he was staring and his voice was rough.
She realized that she wanted him to stare at her. And she liked the way his hand felt on hers, hard and strong, but gentle at the same time.
Her lips curved. “No, it’s not the lingerie. It’s the snack cakes. They happen to be excellent junk food.”
Walker frowned. “Fancy chefs like junk food?”
“There’s a time and place for everything. Comfort food can work miracles, just you remember that, pal.” Jilly headed off in search of her suitcase. At the doorway, she stopped. “As for what comes after the junk food… We’ll have to wait and see.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SOMETHING WAS DEFINITELY going on between them.
It felt like something man/woman. Something that shimmered with unspoken possibilities. Jilly didn’t share her Tastykakes with anyone. Even her best friends had to whine a little before she shared. Yet here she was, opening her stash to a man she barely knew.
To a man nothing less than a hero.
She gathered up her hoard of sweets and dropped them in her tote to carry back out to the living room, shivering.
“Cold?”
When she nodded, Walker moved to the fireplace and flipped a switch. As gas flames bathed the room with a soft glow, Walker sat down in a chair next to the fire with Winslow nearby. “What’s the big deal about these cakes of yours?”
“Not just any cakes. These little jewels are the stars of the junk food universe. Let’s get that straight.” Jilly sat down on the arm of Walker’s chair and dropped the stash of dessert cakes in his lap. She laughed when Winslow moved in, sniffing curiously, clearly hoping for a treat somewhere in the bag. “Not yet, honey. I’ll find you something in a minute.”
Walker picked up a plastic package. “Krimpet?”
“These things have been around since 1927. They’re a Philadelphia product—even something of an institution. Krimpets are amazing. Light, and spongy, a cake with a butterscotch icing. They’re perfectly moist with just the right amount of butterscotch flavor. In the spirit of generosity, I am going to share my stash with you.” Jilly pulled another package from her bag, opened the plastic and held out a cake to Walker.
Winslow watched intently as Walker took a bite and then another. “Nice. I’m not generally big on desserts, but these aren’t too sweet.” He frowned. “Not that I’d call them healthy.”
“There’s a time and a place for healthy. Sometimes you just need a Tastykake. And you can make them healthy. They taste great with a glass of milk. Dip them in, swirl them around, and you’ve got two of the major food groups covered.”
“And those two food groups would be refined sugar and carbohydrates?”
“Very funny. No, I meant protein from the milk and grain group from the pastry. Live a little, can’t you, Walker?”
“Apparently not,” he said dryly.
“We have to do something about that,” Jilly said. “I had my first Tastykake at a food convention in Philadelphi
a. We had lots of samples during that week. I didn’t understand all the excitement at first. By the time I left, I was a convert. You’ll understand after you’ve tried a few. Seriously, these things melt in your mouth. But a friendly word of warning. If that was my last one in your hand, I’d wrestle you for it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Walker murmured.
Jilly was too fixated on the array of snacks to hear the rough edge in his voice. She charged right on. “And in the spirit of further discovery, I give you the Kandy Kake.” Jilly pulled out another plastic-wrapped cake. “Just the right amount of peanut butter. Not too sweet, but a little shot in the arm when you need it.”
Walker took a sample bite and then raised an eyebrow. “Not bad.”
“Not bad?” Jilly frowned at him. “Would you call the Mona Lisa not bad? These are the cream of the cream, Walker. I’m talking comfort food royalty. Is that all you have to say?”
He gave a slow grin, rubbing Winslow’s head. “Let’s try that again. They are better than not bad. Soft, moist, with a nice kind of texture thing. I don’t know what you chefs call that.”
“We call it crumb.” Jilly crossed her arms, waiting for him to continue.
“They’re not too sweet. They don’t have an artificial taste. I can see why they’re popular.”
Jilly was somewhat mollified. “Fine. Just as long as you don’t call them not bad.” She searched around in her bag and found another chocolate and peanut butter confection, which she handed to Walker. “Better enjoy it, pal. It’s the last one I’m going to share.” Smiling, she reached into her pocket. “And good news. I have one last wrapped piece of jerky that I saved for Winslow. I wish I had brought more. Maybe Red can remedy that situation. I have an amazing recipe for dog treats.”
“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. I get the sense you love animals a whole lot.”
“No question about it,” Jilly said flatly. “From my experience animals are better behaved than most people, more honest, more loyal and worth more in the general scheme of things.”
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