by Box Set
He pulled on jeans, forgoing underwear that would only be coming off again, and padded out to the kitchen to find Savannah wearing his T-shirt, fiddling with the microwave.
He liked her standing barefoot wearing nothing but his T-shirt. He took in her long, toned legs. The soft flare of her hip when she put her hand on her waist. Her dark hair falling to her shoulder blades.
He liked the whole package standing in front of him.
A small stab to his heart surprised him.
He nuzzled the back of her neck and was rewarded with a spray of goosebumps and a shiver.
“Got to feed my man,” she said in a sing-song voice, turned to face him and grinned.
He stilled.
At the look on his face, she swatted his arm. “It’s a figure of speech. One of the rules of domestication is that women are allowed to be a little sappy. I might even draw our initials in a heart.” She rolled her eyes at him.
She heaped steaming food onto plates, then walked into the living room. He sat at the dining room table and waited.
He liked sitting down to dinner. It made him think of a couple of times growing up when his father had his shit together, and they’d been a family who ate together. Didn’t happen often, but it mattered when it did. He liked having that with Savannah.
She walked into the room laughing.
“Survivor is going to have to wait, baby.”
“Yeah.” She smiled an unguarded smile and Walker smiled back. The world faded and it was them and the best Chinese food he’d ever eaten.
Time for a catch up.
“So it’s been a while for you?”
She nodded. “No one since Lawrence, and when I found out he’d been cheating on me, I started divorce proceedings.”
Pain, sadness, and anger flitted across her face.
Larry really needed his head examined to not race home every night to Savannah instead of looking for a hook-up when he had perfection in his bed already.
Pot this is kettle calling.
He shook his head. “He’s one dumb fuck not to come home to you every night.”
Her cheeks pinked. “I think you just implied I was a good lay, and I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
The words you’re the best I’ve had sat on the tip of his tongue, ready to drop between them. He pulled the truthful words back.
“Are you full and functioning?” Savannah eyed his empty plate, and her gaze drifted downward.
His cock pulsed into life.
“I am.” He stood and held out his hand. He went to pull her toward the bedroom, but she stopped him and raised her eyebrows.
“Always wanted to know if the whole washing machine thing was a myth.” A sexy pink highlighted her cheeks.
“Let’s find out,” he said gruffly, pulling her toward the laundry.
Hours later, having discovered intense washing machine sex wasn’t a myth and after they’d had their fill of each other, they’d cleaned up the kitchen. They moved to the couch where Savannah instantly curled into him, and they watched some girly show of hers. He didn’t really mind; it was soothing to have her soft curves against him, listening to her jabber away, until she’d dropped off to sleep a few commercial breaks ago.
A strange, not unpleasant sensation washed over him. He planned to run with it for ten days then take that sensation outside and shoot it.
At least, he’d leave Savannah in a better place with a business plan all arranged, a profitable diner, and the ability to live in Saddle Creek—a town she loved and thought she’d never leave.
Maybe more than a business plan was needed.
Maybe a silent partner was needed.
Maybe there was a way they could both have it all.
Because deep in his gut he knew this was all he had to give.
Savannah sighed in her sleep and wriggled deeper. He picked her up and headed down the hall, smiling when she burrowed deeper. He went to her bedroom, slipped back the covers, gently laid her on the bed, and tucked the sheet around her.
Over the years, he’d wondered how some women he’d dated slept. Would they be spooners? Would they prefer their own patch and have only feet touching?
He’d only woken with Savannah once, but he remembered her head on his shoulder, her arm around his waist, their tangled legs.
He stared down at her.
If this was a normal date either he or his date would be getting ready to leave.
He nodded to himself, letting the regret settle deeper into his bones and walked out the door.
Walker sat nursing a beer, sitting on Savannah’s porch. His body hummed, he was exhausted and wired at the same time. He wasn’t letting any thoughts stick. Instead, he let them drift through his mind because it was easier than answering that there was something going on here that he didn’t want to admit to. His body jerked when a loud pounding sounded at Savannah’s door.
Chapter 6
The sound of pounding and loud male voices pulled Savannah from a delicious dream. She’d been on a tropical island sifting silky sand through her toes. Walking toward her was Walker wearing a loincloth, a frothy margarita in his hand.
Damn that would have had a fine ending.
She pulled herself out of bed when the voices grew louder.
What the?
Walker’s clipped tones and what sounded like Lawrence had her throwing open her bedroom door.
Her heart stalled then pounded painfully against her ribs.
There in her living room, glaring at Walker, who glared back, stood Lawrence looking disheveled. Her eyes widened. Lawrence took personal grooming seriously. The man had more lotions than a drug store.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
This was a whole new level of inappropriateness by Lawrence. One she guessed fueled by jealousy that he’d finally met the man who’d called her Savvy back in the day.
Lawrence turned to her, his gaze sweeping along her body, his mouth tightening on the male T-shirt she wore. She liked wearing Walker’s shirt with its sun-licked, mouth-watering Walker scent.
“We need to get us sorted,” he said as if the divorce hadn’t been final for a year.
Savannah stared at him. His eyes were bloodshot. Deep lines were carved into the side of his pale face. A blue and red tie hung from his neck instead of carefully knotted.
She moved to stand next to Walker.
“I can see I’ve made some mistakes,” Lawrence said.
Savannah rubbed her temple.
“I need you back in my life.” Her ex took a step toward her, but Walker was quicker and moved his body between her and Lawrence.
“I’m tired of having this conversation again. I’ve moved on and you need to as well.”
“Savannah, please, we can have what we had at the beginning. We both made mistakes.” Lawrence tugged his hand through his hair.
She stared at him, her jaw slack. She’d loved this man. She’d fallen so hard and deep into him. She truly believed he’d felt the same way, but that ended the night he’d come home reeking of Dior and dropped his bombshell on their second year anniversary.
If only she’d turn a blind eye, she’d be the perfect wife.
If only she were sexier in the bedroom, she’d be a better lover.
If only she’d take her daddy’s monthly allowance, they’d have a better life.
“You are right we both made mistakes. I stayed way too long in a marriage thinking I could fix what the problem was.” She shook her head. “I tried, but when one person sees there’s a problem but the other person says there’s nothing to fix, all that’s left is hurt, pain, and shattered dreams.”
He stared at her as if he didn’t understand a word she said.
“Did you ever love me Lawrence?” she said quietly. “And when I mean love, I mean did you ever worry when I was five minutes late, and it was icy out, but you wouldn’t call because you didn’t want to distract me. Were you ever anxious that the beautiful scarf you bought me
so I wouldn’t get cold, would be the right color, but you knew it didn’t really matter because I would love it? Did you ever wonder how we’d still make love when we were in our eighties?”
Lawrence said nothing but stuffed his hands into his pockets.
“That’s what I wanted,” she said, hating the hitch in her voice. “Someone who would love me for me, not pay attention to me when they were bored. Someone who believes the vows we spoke.”
Walker pulled her tight into his front, his arms around her waist.
“That’s what Savannah’s going to get.” His arm tightened around her waist.
She closed her eyes for a second, sinking into the warmth where she and Walker could have a slice of that dream.
“I used to wonder who you were.” Lawrence’s gaze cut to the Walker. “The man who’d called her Savvy. The man she used to dream about.” His gaze cut to Savannah’s. “Yeah, I screwed up, but can you honestly say there wasn’t three of us in this marriage at times?”
“Yes, I can,” she said without hesitation. “I went into our marriage imagining we’d bounce grandbabies on our knees. You’re searching for an excuse when we both know I wasn’t enough for you.”
“The other women never meant anything to me,” he ground out. “I always came back to you.”
She slow blinked. “The women mattered to me.”
The atmosphere in the air crackled.
“This cozy chat is done. Don’t come near my woman again.”
She stilled at the possession in Walker’s voice.
“I’ve been letting Savannah play this her way, but I’m out of patience and your fucking up an altogether spectacular night. I’m about to get ‘balls deep into my woman again.” Walker’s voice dropped to all but a whisper. “She’s mine now.”
Lawrence stared at them, his face pale before he turned and walked out the door.
A short time later, Walker passed her a glass of scotch then sat beside on the couch. She sipped the amber liquid, which burned her throat. The tang of alcohol was welcome after the emotions of the last scene.
Walker gently cupped her chin and turned her face to his. He scanned her.
“You okay?” His troubled gaze rested on her shaking hands.
She nodded. “Yeah and thanks.”
“Just said what had to be said.”
She nodded again.
“That being said, I only stepped in to reiterate your point.” His Adam’s apple moved as he tipped the glass to his lips. “Man was a fool to let you go.”
She set her drink down. Tonight had been one strange night, may as well get the elephant that had been tripping the light fantastic in her mind, out into the room.
“Why did you leave that summer? I always thought you left because you didn’t want me.”
He frowned. “I knew you were getting in tight and I didn’t want to hurt you, so I walked away the next day.” Regret tinged his words. “Not my finest hour leaving you without a word.”
She’d been shattered when Walker had left. To him it had only been a summer romance, but she thought she’d found the love of her life.
Walker’s leaving had cut straight through to her soul, leaving it in ribbons.
Miss Hattie had sat her down and her honest words burned through to her soul.
Some people can’t be fixed, and Walker is one of them. Whatever ails him, he’ll have to work it out himself.
Miss Hattie’s hand had caught the first tear that fell and the next until she cried herself out. She’d taken to her bed where the only things that got her on her feet were Miss Hattie’s chicken soup and the worried face of her father when he popped in occasionally. Eventually Savannah had emerged, thinner, nourished by Miss Hattie’s chicken soup and with a bruised and battered heart, but wiser and stronger. Until Lawrence had made her believe in the fairytale again.
She turned to face Walker who stared moodily at the blank TV. An unexpected jolt always got her when she looked at him. His beauty, his compassion, his gentle and kind side.
Tears pricked the backs of her eyes.
Walker’s words tonight moved her. Had he meant them? Did he think of her as his woman?
Her insides twisted into a painful, messy knot.
She knew deep in her heart that he loved being domesticated.
Each day Walker relaxed. They talked through both their issues of the day. He’d had some pointers on where she could make some savings at the diner, make it more profitable. He’d shared his disappointment that production had slowed on a line of spare parts – something his operations manager always had a handle on. She’d probed that maybe he was having problems at home. Walker had been surprised, made a phone call and sent his employee and his partner to a vacation.
If he got here before her in the evening he’d text and ask what she wanted to drink. Either iced tea or a glass of pinot would be waiting for her. If she got home before him she’d load up the fridge with beer. They’d head to her deck and talk about their days with him now leading the conversation.
He’d sat with her through The Bachelor even commenting “That dude needs to get rid of the one in the red dress – that woman has a brain full of crazy.” She in turn had played on her phone while he watched WWE, only occasionally glancing up at the screen where none of the men had a body that rivaled Walker’s.
The man who’d first stepped through her door who, looking wary, had changed to a man crying out to be domesticated. He could deny it all he wanted, but she wouldn’t deny giving them a chance.
If she could get him to see the possibilities of them.
She gnawed her lip.
Never woken up in his arms though.
This she could fix.
She hoped.
Chapter 7
“Are you ok?” Walker sat next to Savannah on her couch. Her knees were pulled to her chest. His T-shirt tented her body. There was a quiet stillness about her that made his heart pound. She’d taken on Lawrence for the last time. He was proud of her. He’d only stepped in to reiterate that he was now in her life.
But he wasn’t and he knew it, but a shot of rage had seared through to his bones that Larry caused her pain.
Savannah nodded.
His ribs tightened around his chest at the thoughtful but wistful look on her face.
She drew her fingers along his arm to land in his hand. His grip tightened, locking her to him.
Something had been gnawing at him.
“Why didn’t you take everything from Larry in the divorce?”
She curled her feet underneath her. “I wanted out fast. I knew Lawrence would try every trick to delay the proceedings. My leaving was an affront to his ego. I took half of what we had. We were living in his grandmother’s house while we searched for a place. I didn’t want his car or anything of his.” She shrugged a shoulder. “He only agreed to a quick, quiet divorce because I told him I’d make it well known he couldn’t keep it in his pants.” She smiled sadly. “His reputation meant more.”
“Why didn’t you ask your dad for help?”
Reynolds Williams was loaded, surely he’d have given his daughter some money.
“He tried, but I’ve never had to stand on my own two feet. I wanted that. Dad understood. I may not have much, but what I have I’ve earned.”
Pride surged in him. She done it on her own and kept her head high when the inevitable whispers swirled. She’d had it tough, but she’d gotten through with dignity and grace.
“You really want to leave here?” he asked.
He caught the wobble of her lip. “Not really, I’ll miss this town and the people. I never thought I’d leave, but things change, this will be a good start.”
It sounded to him that she was trying to convince herself.
“Plans can be changed.”
She stared off into the distance with a faraway look in her eyes. Eventually she yawned, put the scotch on the table and drew her hand through her hair.
“It’s been quite the night.�
�� She stood and Walker stood with her. “I’m so tired and emotionally drained that my brain is toast.”
“If that’s your kind of toast…”
She smiled at him and the smile sparkled into his heart.
“Let’s go to bed.” He put down his glass.
One night curled around Savannah he would do, to ease her hurt.
This was a whole new experience for him. Going to bed with a woman for the purpose of sleeping only.
“I’ll be gone by morning.” The security of waking up alone pulled at him.
“Why?” She tilted her head to one side. “If you want to be part of a relationship waking up together is part of that.”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
Shit.
“It isn’t about sex it’s about the intimacy of waking up with someone.” Hand on her hip she waited.
Still his feet stayed glued. Waking up with Savannah was a new level of intimacy. One that he wanted. One that he couldn’t have.
“Is there something else going on here?” Her navy eyes flashed in her exhausted face. “Why the hesitancy?”
“No hesitation,” he lied.
He didn’t say a word when he followed her into her room. His heart was thumping low and heavy in his chest.
Walker waited until she came out of the bathroom, trailing the fresh scent of mint, then crawled into bed. He turned off the lights and lay beside her and Savannah burrowed. She still used his shoulder as a pillow, her arm thrown across his chest, her breathing even.
Walker stared at the ceiling, working on his plan. He sifted his fingers through her thick, soft hair and kissed her head.
Was he potentially the biggest jerk on the planet?
He closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep before he did something he’d regret for the rest of his life.
But tonight sleep wasn’t in his corner. Restless, he got up, made his way to his computer, and sent out a bunch of emails. Everything to execute his plan was in place.
For reasons he wouldn’t analyze, he walked into her bedroom, stripped, got into bed, and pulled her close. She murmured, went to move away, but he gathered her into his arms.