It was only then she noticed she was still holding the five dollars she’d tried to give him. There was no way she was going back up there tonight. She would leave it in his mailbox or something.
It was painfully obvious she should avoid Walker at all costs. He might be nice on the surface, but her original premise was still true. If she was attracted to him, then there was something seriously wrong with him. Right now, she couldn’t afford another male disaster in her life. She was still paying for the last one.
Literally.
CHAPTER TWO
WALKER DIDN’T HAVE a chance to knock on his brother’s front door. He was barely halfway up the walk when the door was flung open and a very pregnant Penny raced—well, waddled—out to greet him.
“You have a toolbox,” she said as she hugged him as tightly as her large stomach would allow. “Tell me there are tools inside. Real tools with handles and metal ends and unknown purposes?”
He wrapped one arm around her while he hoisted the metal toolbox with the other. “I left my pretend tools at home. When you asked me to bring tools, I thought you meant the real ones.”
“Thank you,” she breathed. “I did. I love Cal. He’s brilliant and charming and other things I won’t mention out of respect for the two of you being brothers, but he’s not so handy.”
“I heard that,” Cal grumbled from the doorway. “I’m very handy.”
“Of course, dear,” Penny said as she pushed past him. “Are you sure this is okay?” she asked Walker. “Helping out?”
He bent down and kissed her cheek, then closed his hand into a fist and bumped it against his brother’s closed fingers. “Happy to be here. You’re pregnant, you’re still working and Cal’s busy running an empire. I’ve got time.”
He followed them through a living room piled with boxes. Penny had moved into Cal’s house shortly after the wedding in early July. Even though that was nearly six weeks ago, she hadn’t done much in the way of unpacking.
“You’re judging me,” Penny called over her shoulder. “I can feel it. I know this mess violates your military code of honor or whatever, but just go with it.”
“Did I say anything?” Walker asked with a grin.
“You didn’t have to.”
She tucked her long auburn curls behind her ear and paused in front of the kitchen. “The rest of the place may be a mess, but the kitchen is perfect.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Walker glanced at his brother. “How many boxes did you have to find room for?”
“I lost count,” Cal said easily. “When I hit twenty-five, I figured there was no point in knowing.”
Penny was the executive chef at The Waterfront, one of four restaurants owned by Buchanan Enterprises. It was, in theory, a family-owned business, but only one of the Buchanan siblings worked there.
“I need the right equipment,” Penny said as she stepped aside and motioned for Walker to enter the kitchen. “You can’t create magic from crap.”
“You should put that on your business card,” he said as he took in the pale, buttery walls and the large pot rack hanging above the island. Without the dark red paint, the kitchen looked bigger. Windows let in light and brought out the colors in the new tile backsplash.
“You put in a backsplash but you haven’t unpacked or gotten the baby’s furniture ready?” he asked before he could stop himself.
Cal looked at him pityingly. “You had to go there, didn’t you?”
Penny’s gaze sharpened. “I’m sorry. Were you being critical just then? Did you plan for me to cook for you today?”
“He didn’t mean it,” Cal said, stepping between them. “Not everyone understands how your incredible mind works.” He lowered his voice. “Walker brought tools, remember?”
Penny laughed. “I know. It’s okay. Just don’t make me feel guilty. My back hurts.”
“Sorry,” Walker told her, enjoying their banter. He’d always liked Cal and Penny as a couple and had been happy to see them get back together. “Now about the baby’s room.”
“It’s through here,” Penny said, leading the way. “We finished painting last week. Well, Cal did. I supervised.”
“From a distance,” Cal reminded her.
She sighed. “Right. I wasn’t allowed to breathe the fumes. We have the curtains up, too. Now all we need is furniture. We physically own everything—the dresser, changing table, crib—but it’s in boxes.”
“Very nice boxes,” Cal reminded her.
“Oh, yeah. They’re stunning. But imagine if we had actual places to put things.”
The baby’s room was at the back of the house, with a view of the garden. Several large boxes stood in the center of the room. The walls were a soft green, the trim had been painted white. Sheer curtains covered open miniblinds.
“The rocking chair is in the office,” Penny said. “Until we get this cleaned up, there’s no space for it. I have a big area rug, too, but Cal said we should wait to put it down.”
“After we put everything together, we’ll clean up, then put down the rug,” Cal said.
Walker nodded and set his toolbox on the hardwood floor. “Let’s see what you bought.”
Penny stepped into the hallway. “I’ll get started on lunch. We’re having seafood crepes with a light cream sauce, some kind of pasta, I haven’t decided yet, and chocolate mousse torte with fresh berries for dessert.”
Walker’s stomach growled. “Sounds great.” He waited until Penny left, then looked at his brother. “You eat like this all the time?”
Cal groaned. “I had to join a gym.”
“Worth the price of admission.”
“For Penny’s cooking? You bet.”
They moved the boxes out of the center of the floor and decided to start with the dresser.
“Thanks for doing this,” Cal told him as he ripped open the cardboard.
“I don’t mind.”
“Aren’t you still settling in?”
Walker shook his head. “It took me exactly two hours to move in to my apartment and unpack.”
“You had stuff in storage, didn’t you?”
“Not much.” No furniture. Just a few personal things he hadn’t wanted to lose. He’d had to buy a sofa, TV and bed.
“Do you like the place?” Cal asked.
“It works for now.”
His brother pulled out the sheet of directions and tossed them into the closet. “Why an apartment? You could have bought a house.”
“I don’t know where I want to live yet,” Walker admitted. Or what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. He’d thought he would stay in the Marines until he retired. Then one day he’d realized it was time for him to leave. “No point in getting something permanent until I decide on a location.”
“You’re staying in Seattle, aren’t you?”
“That’s the plan.” As much as he had one.
“Want to come work for me?” Cal asked. “As a major stockholder, you’d be welcome.”
“No thanks. Coffee’s your thing.”
Several years ago, Cal and his partners had started The Daily Grind. Their initial three locations had grown into a popular West Coast chain that was rapidly expanding across the country. Walker had invested his savings in the start-up and the risk had paid off with a large chunk of shares that had steadily grown in value. He’d never bothered to calculate their exact worth, but he wasn’t thinking about getting a job because he needed the money.
“Still looking for Ashley?” Cal asked.
Walker shrugged. “Regularly. I went through another three and haven’t found her. But I will.”
“I don’t doubt it. Oh, Penny said the new general manager at The Waterfront quit.”
“Figures.” The family restaurants were successful businesses, but keeping executive staff was impossible. Gloria Buchanan, matriarch of the family and all-around bitch, drove the most talented away. “Gloria’s not getting in Penny’s face, is she?”
“No way.” Cal g
rinned. “I wrote the contract myself. Gloria isn’t allowed to step foot in the kitchen without permission.”
Walker set out the pieces of the dresser, then opened his toolbox. “Being married agrees with you.”
“We got it right the second time around. Six months ago, I wouldn’t have thought it possible. What about you?”
“I’m not interested in a second chance with Penny. Or a first one. She’s your girl.”
His brother punched him in the arm. “You know what I mean. You can’t be alone forever.”
“Why not? I don’t need anyone.”
“We all need someone. The difference is some of us are willing to admit it sooner than others.”
“I RESENT THIS,” Elissa said as she stirred the chili simmering on the stove. “I resent being manipulated, even by my own guilt. It’s wrong on so many levels.”
All of this was Walker’s fault, she thought as she crossed to the mixing bowl and poured the corn bread batter into a greased glass pan. She hadn’t been able to shake feeling stupid about her assumption when he’d offered to let her “pay in trade.” His comment about smelling her cooking had taken root in her brain and now she was making chili for the express purpose of apologizing. Plus, she still had to give him the five dollars he’d so artfully avoided when she’d given him the pie.
Twenty minutes later, she knocked on the door between her place and Mrs. Ford’s.
“I can smell the chili,” the older lady said happily. “I took my Prevacid earlier and I’m ready for second helpings.”
“Good. Everything is ready. Have a seat. I’m going to run upstairs and tell Walker dinner is ready.”
Mrs. Ford raised her eyebrows. Elissa sighed.
“It’s not what you think. I still have to give him my first down payment and I’m making up for…well, you know.”
She’d told her neighbor all about the unfortunate misunderstanding. Mrs. Ford had taken great pains to point out that a lady did not sleep with a gentleman for any reason other than love or really powerful sexual attraction. Even being given a kidney wasn’t good enough. As if Elissa didn’t already know that.
“Chili is an excellent choice,” Mrs. Ford said. “A very manly dish. No froufrou vegetables or tofu surprise. An excellent move.”
“It’s not a move.”
“It should be. Elissa, darling, he’s a very handsome man.”
Elissa opened her mouth, then closed it. What was the point of trying?
“I’ll be right back,” she said, then yelled into the living room. “Zoe, dinner’s ready. Please go wash your hands.”
“Okay, Mommy.”
Once again Elissa climbed the stairs. She walked briskly across the small landing and knocked firmly on the door. No way she was going to let him know she felt embarrassed by their previous conversation. Nope, except for the fact that she was cooking for him, she was going to pretend it never happened.
He opened the door. “Hello, Elissa.”
Sometime in the past three or four days, she’d forgotten what he looked like. Oh, sure, she could have picked him out of a lineup and been confident he was her neighbor, but she’d lost track of the specifics.
She hadn’t remembered how his dark eyes seemed to observe everything without giving anything away. How his strong features made her want to trust him instantly or that his mouth was both stern and intriguing.
He looked solid, steady…dependable. All very appealing traits, given her history with men.
“Hi. You never took the money.” She thrust the five dollars at him and held her arm steady until he took it from her.
“Thanks. You didn’t have to—”
She cut him off with a flick of her wrist. “I did have to. It helps me sleep at night. I also wanted to apologize for the misunderstanding. I jumped to not very flattering conclusions and I shouldn’t have.”
“I realize how that could have happened.”
She wondered if that was true or if he was just being polite. And then she wondered how his skin would feel if she touched his arms. Was it rough or soft? Did the muscles yield at all or were they—
She mentally put on the brakes and smiled brightly so he wouldn’t guess what she was thinking. Dear God, what was wrong with her? She’d seen plenty of good-looking men before. Some even in person. But she’d never reacted like this. It was worse than feeling guilty. Which meant she should get to the point.
“I made chili,” she said. “You mentioned smelling my cooking and wanting to trade what I owe you for that. I’m all right with that. So I made chili and corn bread. There’s pie left, but you probably still have some of your own, so I don’t know how interesting blueberry pie would be. Although I have ice cream. It was on sale. Chocolate chip. Zoe and I do the chocolate thing.”
When she realized she was babbling, she pressed her lips firmly together, then cleared her throat.
“My point is, you’re welcome to join us.” Hmm, that didn’t sound right. “Mrs. Ford is already downstairs. This isn’t anything but payback. I’m not asking you out or anything. I don’t date. Anyone. I don’t do anything else, either. I’m not issuing a challenge. I know some guys assume if a woman’s alone, it’s a challenge. I’m not. I’m not interested in getting involved or having a fling or anything like that. This isn’t a good time for me. Zoe’s really young and there are other complications.”
Big ones, she thought, thinking that Neil was at least six feet and was never going to go away.
“You’re saying you don’t want to date or have sex with me,” he clarified.
“Right,” she agreed, before actually processing what he’d said.
“Good to know.”
His gaze never wavered and nothing about his expression changed. She wished she could say the same about herself, but no. Even as she stood there, she felt heat climbing her cheeks. No doubt she’d turned bright red. Perhaps because the poor man had never indicated he was interested in her at all. He’d asked for a meal, not a night of hot monkey sex.
“Oh, God,” she breathed. “Not that you asked or anything. I’m just—”
He held up one hand to stop her. “Elissa. Quit while you’re ahead.”
“Good idea.”
“I get the message.”
“Yippee.”
“I understand why you said it. I respect your honesty. Sleep easy. I won’t make a pass at you.”
Which should have made her happy, but she wasn’t sure if he was being agreeable or making fun of her. If only she could slink away and start this day over.
She cleared her throat. “Did you want some chili and corn bread?”
“Yes, but I’ll come down and get a plate. I don’t want to disturb your dinner plans.”
“You mean you want the food but you won’t be joining us?”
“Is that a problem?”
A surprise maybe, but not a problem. “Whatever you’d prefer.”
“Okay. Let me grab a bowl and a plate and I’ll meet you downstairs.”
“You don’t have to do that. I have plates.”
“This way I don’t have to return them.”
She winced. Definitely mocking her, she thought glumly. Truth be told, she’d earned it. She turned and walked down to her apartment.
Easy solution, she thought. She’d stop talking to the man. That would increase her odds of not making a fool out of herself. She would also add to her “next life” list. In addition to money, she seriously needed to explore the possibility of being slightly less outspoken.
THE ALARM RANG at 4:00 a.m., as it did every weekday morning. Elissa got up immediately—she’d learned her body cooperated better while it was still in shock over the predawn hour. If she hit the snooze button, she was at risk of never getting out of bed.
She showered, then wrapped her hair in a towel while she applied the barest touch of makeup. Tinted moisturizer, mascara, lip gloss. After dressing in her Eggs ’n’ Stuff uniform, she ran the blow-dryer until she’d passed from wet to damp
, then combed her hair and put it in a quick ponytail. At four-thirty, she walked into the kitchen and inhaled the scent of brewing coffee.
Whoever had invented timers on coffee machines deserved an award, or, at the very least, a star named in his or her honor. As Elissa reached for a mug, she heard a very distinct thump from overhead.
The sound was loud and out of place. The moan that followed made her shiver.
Something was going on upstairs. Something she should ignore. Except there was a second thump and a louder moan.
What if Walker had fallen and hurt himself? He looked to be in too good a shape for that, but he could have slipped or fallen while drunk.
She hesitated between not wanting to get involved and knowing she couldn’t leave Zoe until she knew everything was all right. After quickly checking on her daughter, who was still sleeping soundly, Elissa grabbed her trusty baseball bat from the hall closet and hurried upstairs.
She knocked briskly, then announced herself in case he was in the throes of some war-induced hallucination. She didn’t want him to shoot or maim her in his confusion.
When he didn’t answer right away, she knocked again, louder this time, then winced as the sharp sound cut through the quiet of the night.
Finally the door opened. Walker stood there wearing nothing but rumpled pj bottoms. His chest was bare, he needed a shave, and for once his eyes weren’t hiding his feelings. He was amused as hell.
“So much for not wanting to get into my bed,” he said.
She glared at him. “You were thunking and moaning. It’s four-thirty in the morning. What was I supposed to think?”
The humor faded. “Seriously?” he asked.
“I do not make this stuff up.”
He looked at the baseball bat. “Was that to take me out or to protect me from whatever was happening?”
“I hadn’t decided.”
“It’s been a long time since someone came to my rescue.” His lips twitched as if he were fighting the need to grin.
Ha-ha. Yeah, this was a laughfest. She couldn’t believe he was fine.
“So you’re all right,” she muttered. “Great. I won’t bother you again.”
Susan Mallery Bundle: The Buchanans Page 55