Then I did laugh because she pulled off gangsta.
Ward moved in behind her and set his hand on her shoulder. “She’s still a hot mama.”
Seeing that connection, built over the years that had formed the family that meant so much to Walker, caused equal pangs of longing and loss in me. I feared I’d never have it as much as I worried that, if I did find it, somehow I’d screw it up and lose it anyway.
Walker’s lips brushed my temple. Then my cheek. Then he whispered, “Breathe,” into my ear. It calmed me, but I still glanced across the counter to see if Ward and Selka noticed my melancholy. But they were taking the cake out of the oven.
So just Walker had caught that.
I knew I should be happy that he could read me so well. And it wouldn’t be a crime to hope that I might have found what I’d always wanted. Still, it was a bit unnerving. I hadn’t known him that long. And there were things he didn’t know about me.
Ward and Selka didn’t stay long after we finished the cake. As Walker and his dad were talking, Selka took me aside.
“There’s second part to story that is secret part. From time Walker was born I knew in my gut that he would find his heart with an artist.” She gifted me with that same glorious smile her son had inherited from her. “You may be monkey-chatter girl, but he is boy who cuts off what frustrates him. Don’t be piano wire. Be piano repairer.”
I had no idea what that meant, but I nodded like she’d given me sage advice.
After Walker closed the door behind them, he said, “See? I told you my family would love you.”
“I don’t know if I’d use the word ‘love.’”
Confusion distorted his face for a moment, as if I’d just said I didn’t love him.
I didn’t love him. I liked him a lot. A whole lot. More than I’d ever liked any guy in any relationship. And just because I couldn’t imagine not seeing his smiling face every day, or laughing with him about stupid stuff, or because, now that I’d had sex with him—three times!—I felt a hard pang at the thought of never being skin to skin with him again, none of that meant I loved him.
But it does mean you’re falling in love with him, dumbass.
“Stop it.”
My gaze collided with his.
“Whatever rambling thoughts are racing though your head, put a lid on them, put them on the back burner and leave them to stew for another day.”
“Hey. That wasn’t a sports analogy—points for switching it up with food.”
Walker started to stalk me. “I’m cashing in my points. Right now.”
I couldn’t see behind me, but there wasn’t furniture to trip over, so I kept moving backward. “You don’t have enough points to buy anything.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I beg to differ. My point system is different than yours. Every time I kiss you and you make that needy little sigh? I get ten points. So by my calculations, with the amount of time we’ve spent with our lips locked in the last month? I have at least 20,000 points.”
I laughed. “Creative math, Viking.”
“I can be very creative with figures.” His gaze traveled over me as hot as a lick of fire. “Let’s start with yours. Strip out of those clothes.”
I’d cleared the entryway to the kitchen and remembered a pair of French doors on the far right. If I could make a break for it and sprint outside …
Sprint? You’re not even a jogger.
I told the snarky voice to shut up, turned and ran.
Walker wasn’t expecting that and I had a decent head start.
The patio door wasn’t locked and I burst into the sunshine, the concrete warm beneath my bare feet, and I came to a complete halt.
Hands landed on my hips and my back met Walker’s solid chest. “We playing tag?” He leaned in to press an openmouthed kiss on the side of my neck and my knees went weak. He held me up and emitted an evil little chuckle.
But my focus was on the sparkling water in front of me. “You have a pool?”
He stilled. “You didn’t know that?”
“How would I know it? This is the first time I’ve been here.” I surveyed the backyard. “Geez, Walker. You think you have enough space? You could put a whole other house back here.”
“I like room to move and it’s fairly private. Nothing like my folks’ place, but the second I saw this place, I bought it.”
“Was the pool here?”
“Nope. Seems crazy to have an outdoor pool in Minnesota when there’s about two months of summer, but we had a pool growing up. Some of my best memories are from summers hanging out there with my family.”
“And you wanted that for when you have a family of your own.” My heart warmed. Walker had such a sentimental streak. Every time I got a glimpse of that sweet part of him, I wanted to twine myself around him, hold on and let it seep into me.
Soft lips landed on my temple. “Let’s swim.”
“I don’t have a suit.”
“Sure you do, babe. Your birthday suit.”
“I’m not stripping down outdoors in the middle of the day. I’ll fry to a crisp in this heat.”
Walker turned me around. “So swim in your underwear. We won’t stay in the pool all day. I’ll make sure you don’t burn.”
I had worn my nicest bra and panty set last night for our date. It could pass for a swimsuit. Feeling daring, just to counter Walker’s expectation that I’d say no, I stepped back and yanked the T-shirt over my head. Then I shimmied the sweatpants down my legs.
Once again I was bowled over by the pure lust on my man’s face.
“Don’t. Move,” he growled. “I’ll be right back.”
As soon as he disappeared inside the house, I wandered around the pool. While the design was unique—a lagoon shape with a waterfall surrounded by concrete pavers finished to resemble stone—the furnishings on the big pool deck were as scant as in the house. This space needed planters with flowers. Seating areas with pockets of shade to escape the sun. A fire pit. My beloved fire pit would look killer in the corner, surrounded by funky mismatched chairs.
Walker strolled out wearing board shorts in a horrendous shade of orange. He grinned at me. “Next time we’re out on the boat, I’ll wear these and you wear your hat. We’ll match.”
I laughed. “Or we could just burn them both.”
“Aww. Now you’ve hurt my feelings.” He held out his hand. “Let’s get wet and slippery together.”
That’s when I saw the wicked glimmer in his eye and knew this wouldn’t be us innocently splashing around in the water like a couple of kids.
He said, “You the jump-in type? Or would you rather ease in?”
I turned as if headed for the steps at the shallow end of the pool but ducked around him and launched myself into the deep end.
Ouch ouch ouch. I’d done a spectacular belly flop and my skin stung. But the water temp was perfect and I floated to the surface.
Walker was grinning at me. “Just when I think I’ve got you pegged, sweetheart, you surprise me.” He hopped in, with barely a splash, and then he popped up in the water next to me.
The sunlight glinted off his hair and his beard. I could stare at him all damn day.
“Let’s hit the shallow end that’s in the shade.” He cut through the water effortlessly, those muscled arms leading the way.
He stopped in the shade by the four-feet depth marker. As soon as I was close enough to grab, he had me plastered to his chest.
The warm, floaty feeling that flowed through me had nothing to do with the pool water. I wreathed my arms around his neck and closed my eyes, giving myself over to him completely.
Walker’s hands were busy as his mouth reacquainted itself with my skin. The press of his fingertips as he skimmed my spine. His thumbs lazily caressing my hip bones. Then he grabbed my ass in both hands and rocked against me.
Yes. I needed that pressure to relieve the ache he was creating.
But when I slipped my hand down his rigid pecs and the six-pack above his h
appy trail, he returned my hand to his neck, swallowing my inarticulate protest with a soft, seductive kiss that made me feel like I was sinking deeper into him.
My butt bumped against the side of the pool and my eyes flew open. Evidently the floating sensation had been somewhat real; we’d moved a few feet closer to the shallow end.
While Walker was licking, lapping and nipping at my skin, I felt a quick tug as he unhooked my bra. He slipped the straps down my shoulders and tossed the bra behind us, where it landed with a wet splat.
“Walker—” My protest died when he enclosed his hot mouth around my water-cooled nipple. His growl of pleasure seemed to vibrate through my skin, tightening the back of my neck, my belly and between my legs. I loved his silent show of passion. No need to tell me how much he loved my breasts or how hot and hard it made him. I knew that at the most basic level with every nip of his teeth, every suctioning pull of his mouth, every plundering kiss and his every labored breath skating across my skin.
Then his mouth was on my ear. “I want you like this. Wet and pliant in my arms.” He sucked the skin below my ear and I squirmed. “Are you wet for me?”
“Yes.”
“Turn around.”
I did. Almost blindly. But then I remembered. “Condom?”
His fingers were pulling my underwear down my legs. “Already covered.”
I looked at him over my shoulder. “What? When did you—?”
“When I went inside to change.” He slipped a finger inside me. “Saw you half naked and went hard as a fucking brick. I knew there was no way I was letting you go home without having you at least once more.”
The fabric of his board shorts fluttered against the backs of my legs like tiny soft fingers. And even with my body shaking with need and my hips moving to drive his finger in deeper, he asked, “You want this, right?”
“God yes.”
He canted my hips and drove inside me.
I braced myself against the side of the pool, absorbing his powerful thrusts. He had one hand kneading my breast and the other hand on my lower abdomen holding me in place. When his finger moved down and stroked me in time with his panting breaths in my ear, I splintered into a million pieces like a glass dropped on concrete.
Walker wasn’t far behind me. After another minute his entire body went rigid and he pressed his face against the nape of my neck, releasing a drawn-out groan.
Even when I noticed my fingertips resembled prunes, I didn’t want to move. I’d happily stay right there, with his heavy weight pressing against me, those big hands touching me tenderly, the heat of this breath warm on my neck and his contentment surrounding me as thoroughly as the water.
“Trinity.”
I loved that whiskey-rough way he said my name. “Yeah?”
“I wish you could stay with me today.” He kissed the slope of my shoulder. “But I know you’ve gotta work.”
“You kicking me out?”
“Yes. I won’t be a distraction until you want me to be. I’d rather have you missing me than resenting me.”
Right then, I fell just a little more. “Thank you for …”
“Getting you. Yeah, babe. I do get you. And now”—he scraped his teeth down the nape of my neck, sending a shiver through me—“I get you this way too. I’m a happy man.”
Mr. I’m Not Smooth always knew exactly what to say.
Sixteen
WALKER
Normally after a bad day on the job, or on all the job sites like today, I’d go to the gym to relieve my frustration on the treadmill, in the weight room or in a CrossFit session. If that didn’t appeal to me, I’d see if my brothers or cousins wanted to spar and grapple. Then again, it’d been almost a year since any of them had time to do a little ground and pound. If I dwelled on that, it was liable to make me pissier yet.
I knew what would fix my mood. Trinity. One look into those guileless green eyes, one glimpse of her mouth curved into a smile, one whiff of her skin and everything else would fade away.
Don’t use her as a crutch.
I didn’t know where that thought had come from. I’d never dated a woman long enough to become dependent on her. For once in my life I’d like to have that. I’d like to knock on Trinity’s door and be confident that when she looked at me she’d know what I needed. It wasn’t just sex that’d soothe my ragged edges. But how was she supposed to possess this innate knowledge if I didn’t let her know when I needed it?
That train of thought had me turning around and heading to her house.
But it wasn’t a serene, smiling, helpful woman that greeted me at her studio door. She had her phone to her ear, vehemently arguing with someone. I grabbed a bottle of water, noticing her mini-kitchen was piled with garbage and odds and ends. The flowers I’d given her were dead in the vase. The heat in here indicated her air conditioner had blown a fuse again.
The damn woman needed a keeper.
It could be you.
I snorted. Miss Independent would take offense at that, even if it was true.
When her phone call kept going, I bagged her trash and tossed it in the garbage bins in the alley. I wandered up the sidewalk and noticed her scraggly lawn was a few weeks past needing a trim. No surprise with her schedule that she hadn’t gotten around to it. At loose ends, I cooled my heels for another minute before I searched out her lawn mower.
The thing was a cheap piece of crap, but it worked. I started out in front of her house and blanked my mind to everything except the grinding whir of the lawn mower motor, the pace of my steps and the loamy scent of fresh-cut grass.
By the time I reached the backyard, my mood had improved drastically. Strange to consider I hadn’t mowed my own lawn for a few years. I didn’t have the time. So why when I did have free time was I cutting her grass?
Because you’re a nice guy?
It went deeper than that. In some bizarre way, finishing the tasks Trinity didn’t have time for gave me a sense of accomplishment.
After I parked the mower in the shed, my mood perked up even more as Trinity meandered down the sidewalk toward me, the light from the late-afternoon sun backlighting her hair.
With a ferocity I’d never experienced, I realized I wanted this—her greeting me after a long day of work. It didn’t seem like a pipe dream; it felt like a premonition when I saw Trinity carrying two bottles of beer—my favorite kind of beer.
“As much as I need a hug, sweetheart, my clothes are dirty and I don’t—”
“You think I care about that? Wrong.” Then she hooked her arm around my neck and pulled me down so she could fasten her mouth to mine in a kiss that hit the mark between passionate and calming. She backed away and gave me a shy smile. “Hello, my dirty, hardworking man. I’m happy to see you and I’m sorry that phone call took me so long. Could I interest you in a frosty beverage?”
God, I love you.
“What?”
I froze. I hadn’t blurted it out to her before I’d come to terms with it myself?
“Walker? What’s wrong? Don’t you want a beer?”
“Of course I want a beer. I was just surprised that you have my favorite.”
“I’ve been in your refrigerator. I figured you’d be over here sometimes, so I should have it on hand.”
Her thoughtfulness threw me more than her quirkiness. I could handle quirky. Seeing firsthand that she had been thinking about me and went the extra mile to make me comfortable in her home? I might as well just propose to her right now.
“I do admit surprise that a billionaire heir prefers the cheap stuff.”
“It’s cheap and it’s good. Besides, Grain Belt beer won the medal of excellence for their lager several years running.”
She tapped my cheek. “Just giving you crap, Viking. Thank you for mowing my lawn. You didn’t have to do that.”
I shrugged. “It needed done.”
“Still, I’m happy and grateful you did it. So you want to sit by my fire pit and enjoy our beer? Or would you rather
go inside?”
“You know … I’ve never been inside your house.”
“Really? Huh. Well, it’s kind of a dump—especially compared to your fancy-schmancy Lake District digs.”
I lifted my beer to my lips. “Do you have furniture in your living room?”
“Of course.”
“That shows me up because I have none in my fancy-schmancy house.”
She laughed and the familiar sound soothed my last ragged edge. “Come on.”
“Give me two minutes and I’ll change that fuse first.”
The way she shifted back and forth I knew she warred between telling me I didn’t have to do that and relief it’d get fixed. She exhaled. “Thank you. That would be great.”
She hung back as I dinked around with the fuse box. When she said, “I like watching you work, Walker. Promise you’ll let me come to a job site sometime so I can see you in action?” I knew that she wasn’t just paying lip service to accepting all parts of me; she meant it. I’d never had that before. And no way was I giving it up.
“Done.”
After Trinity set the alarm, we strolled hand in hand up the sidewalk to the front door.
I followed her inside. The small entryway opened up into the living room. Her furniture was white. Her walls were white. Her carpet was white. Even her end tables and coffee table were covered with white paint.
Given her vibrant personality, I’d expected her private space to reflect it. But this place was a void. I looked over at her and saw she’d been watching me.
“It’s intentional. The all-white space.”
“Why?”
“Working with colors and textures and images all day, my eyes and my brain need blank space to recharge.”
“I guess that makes sense.”
One of the puffy white pillows jumped and so did I. “Jesus. What was that?”
“My cat.”
“You have a cat?”
“Yes. Didn’t your mother tell you?”
I frowned. “How the hell does my mom know you have a cat and I don’t?”
She tiptoed over to it, offering reassuring words that she only wanted to pet it, but the white fur stood on end as it arched its back and hissed at her.
I refrained from voicing my opinion that cats were assholes. “What’s your cat’s name?”
Just What I Needed (The Need You Series) Page 23