by Box Set
Not this girl.
She pressed her hands against her aching stomach.
That needed soul-searching, time alone, and probably a phone call to Miss Hattie.
What she did need now was time and distance away. She’d misjudged her non-starter relationship with Walker and the wound was too fresh and too raw. First thing in the morning she’d hock everything and get away.
This girl was getting out of Dodge.
Chapter 9
Three weeks later
Walker sat on his balcony in Malibu, a beer in his hand, wishing he was sitting on a porch in Montana with Savannah. She’d be talking about her day, sipping a pinot or an iced tea, her voice happy and dancing. She’d look at him when she didn’t think he knew, but he did and like a stupid prick he’d let her.
After she’d talk about her day, he’d chat about his. He wouldn’t be sitting here filled with tension, tired because he couldn’t sleep because he missed her tucked against his side. He wouldn’t be pissed off with himself because he was pissed off.
Before he’d left, he’d had a public chat with Lawrence, who’d turned green when Walker had informed him that he had eyes in town and the first sign of him hassling Savannah he’d hunt him down.
He stared out at crashing waves. Hopeful surfers straddled boards. Walker sat under a troubled sky which threatened rain. His mood matched the sky.
He’d screwed up royally.
He’d known Savannah was falling in love with him, and he did nothing about it because he liked it too damned much.
But not enough to commit to her, which makes me a total asshole.
She’d clawed her way under his skin too. He hadn’t realized how deeply until he’d tried to sleep at a chain hotel the night he’d walked away and the slippery bastard known as sleep had given him the finger. He’d tossed until he’d given up at four a.m., missing the weight of Savannah’s head on his shoulder, her arm around his stomach. He’d then driven into town to make sure Billy-Bob was at the diner. He was. He’d driven to the cottage after texting Savannah and not receiving an answer. His stuff had been thrown into a box and left on the porch as she’d promised. He’d left his T-shirt, the one that she’d taken to wearing to bed, in her laundry ignoring the fact he was breaking into her house. He liked the thought of her in his T-shirt and since it was obviously a man’s shirt, he liked the thought of it hanging on her wash-line silently warning men away. He’d stood in her room, inhaled the sweet, floral scent she wore, and pain had ripped through his chest. He’d paid a last visit to a still comatose John and caught the next flight to LAX.
So here he sat.
A very unhappy man.
Until Savannah he’d been at peace with his life. No complications with women. Life on its precise trajectory.
Seeing her struggle with emotions hit home; why he didn’t do relationships, why he wanted skin deep, but Savannah wanted the whole fleshed out package.
He took a slug of beer and tasted nothing.
Everything in his life was deserting him.
On paper his professional life was perfect. The business was doing way beyond budget. He’d had a stand-up fight with his second-in-charge who’d told him to piss off and only come back when he wasn’t in such a foul mood and to change whatever had happened in Montana because no one wanted to be around him.
A point echoed by his housekeeper, Missy, who’d sat him down and told him he either had to shake off his bad mood or she’d shake some sense into him. She’d also told him that she was glad that finally a woman had gotten under his skin because nothing but a woman would make him this miserable, but if he didn’t hurry up another man would realize Walker had let the best thing that had happened to him slip away.
Those words had turned his world black.
The thought of any man touching her sent demons into his skull.
And here was the clusterfuck.
He wanted her, badly, but he didn’t know if he had it in him to be what she needed.
What if I screw it up? What if I get three months in and want out and hurt her again?
The thump of mail landing on the floor pulled him out of his head. It was rare that he received personal mail as he used his Santa Monica business address for everything.
He padded to where a package lay on the floor.
His heart beat to attack levels when he bent and picked it up. He knew that handwriting, the carefully shaped words, the sassy flick of a tail that came off the letter d.
He clawed at the bubble-wrap package and pulled out the contents.
And froze.
A note and an envelope waltzed to the floor, which he caught with one hand while the other held up the T-shirt Savannah had claimed as hers.
He read the note.
Walker,
I found this at the bottom of the laundry hamper. My apologies.
You were right. I was trying to fix you to make an us. I had no right to assume you wanted more. You never led me on with false promises but were up front about what you wanted. I read more into us than was there. I was the one who tried to make something out of nothing. You didn’t hurt me. I did that to myself. I hope you find the girl for you.
The sale of the diner is pending. But here’s the money you’re owed. Let Miss Hattie know if you need anything else.
I wish you joy and happiness in your life.
Savannah
No Love, Savannah.
No signing it Savvy.
The final nail in his coffin.
He started at Miss Hattie’s address until his eyes blurred and the slush that was blood started flowing through his veins.
His newest offer for the diner had been accepted last week. He’d paid above what Savannah was asking, but figured it was the only thing he could do to help her. He’d brought it through one of his shell companies so unless someone did a lot of digging his name wouldn’t show. He’d had a long chat with Billy-Bob, offered him a raise and an incentive bonus if he made it through the month and each subsequent month would get him some more. If he didn’t stay on track, then his ass was out, and Walker would hire a replacement.
It wasn’t lost on Walker that he was doing what he always did. Instead of dealing with something emotional he took the easy way out.
He looked at his business card and cringed.
Nothing screamed booty call more than his personal address scrawled on the back. He’d left the card on the table after cake sex.
He inhaled his shirt and Savannah’s scent. The dull ache that had been hanging on his chest exploded through him.
Images of Savannah detonated in his brain. The way her hand slipped into his, her magnificent hair laying across his chest, the lightness in her laugh that always made him smile. And that didn’t come near to his memories of what they had physically.
He’d ignored a steady stream of texts from women asking for a hook-up – he had no interest. His cock had stayed silent on that front as well. Seemed it missed her as much as he did.
God, but he missed her.
Missed them.
He froze.
Them.
They’d always been a them.
She was his girl.
She’d always been his girl.
Back in the day they’d been sweet and he’d never had sweeter. Last month, he’d been too blind to see that maybe the reason he had so many hook-ups in the past was because he couldn’t stand the thought of being bound to any of them.
Fast-forward to today and the thread that bound him to Savannah was stronger than steel. He’d never be able to get her out of his head because she was a permanent fixture.
A permanent fixture he wanted in his life.
Only call me Savvy when you love me.
Her words fired into his brain and he smiled.
“Yeah, Savvy, you’re mine,” he said to the room.
He snatched his phone from his pocket, swiped his finger, found her name, put his phone to his ear.
Straight to voicemail.<
br />
He punched out a text.
Nothing.
Called again.
Again, straight to voicemail.
A tic started to worry his eye.
She’d moved on with her life and he was no longer part of her circle.
His intestines tried to burrow out of his ass.
Am I too late?
Chapter 10
Savannah threw her keys on her counter. Weariness crawled through her bones. It was late and she hadn’t slept well since Walker had left.
The time with Miss Hattie had been great. After the blowup with Walker, she’d called Miss Hattie. It turned out Miss Hattie wasn’t feeling great and asked if Savannah could visit for a few days. She’d been on the next plane.
A few days had turned into a week and then more. If she was playing the ‘truth’ game she’d have admitted the distraction was welcomed. Away from Montana and the ghost of Walker that still haunted her house. His scent on the pillow and sheets. The phantom weight of his arm around her waist.
Shoot me now.
Miss Hattie, it turned out, had a bad case of missing Savannah and had promptly burst into tears when she’d clamped eyes on her. Savannah had hugged the person who loved her most and after a belly filled with Miss Hattie’s chicken soup, the sad and short story of her and Walker came tumbling out in another rush of tears. Miss Hattie had rubbed her back and told her it would pass and she had no doubt that the right man was out there and he’d turn up.
The nights of sitting with Miss Hattie and her sister Clementine on their porch had slowly healed her.
Although Savannah didn’t want to hear it, Miss Hattie kept telling her the right man was out there.
Mr. Special will glide through your door, Savannah when you least expect it.
Well, until Mr. Special glided through her door, it was back to her and Sergio.
Except that part of her anatomy had issued a shut-up-shop notice. Unless she thought about Walker, and then it sparkled to life.
Her handbag landed on the couch, and she stopped by the bathroom to clean her teeth.
She made a mental note to order packing boxes and grimaced. The sale had been handled by lawyers, and her lease was month to month. There was nothing materially holding her here.
She pulled on one of her long T-shirts, thinking that Walker would have received his by now. She’d held onto it for too long, knowing that keeping it and wearing it was only extending the pain. She’d mailed it to him along with his business card and a check—emptying her bank account to cover the money he’d paid on her loan.
Hawaii, here I come.
Two months ago, when she’d thought about her new life in Hawaii, streamers had burst in her head. Now a used popper fizzled in her brain.
She crawled into bed and stared out at the land she loved, unable to kick the heaviness in her chest or the fragile beat of her heart.
The next morning Billy-Bob phoned and asked if she could come in around noon. The new owner had hired a baker, and a batch of cakes would be ready then. Savannah agreed, then sat staring out the window, refusing to think about someone else’s cakes on her pink and yellow daisy spinners.
Today was going to be tough, saying goodbye to Billy-Bob, her neighbors, friends, and the diner. Her throat tightened and tears slid down her face.
Better get my seriously big girl panties on if I’m going to make it through the day.
She’d heard through the grapevine that Lawrence had indeed backed off and was rumored to be dating a lawyer.
Around noon, she headed toward the diner.
Wow.
She pulled into the crowded parking lot, killed the ignition, and sat staring, the lump in her throat growing larger. Her baby diner had grown up. Glossy dark blue paint on the exterior, white shutters, flowerboxes heavy with pastel flowers.
Her trembling hand pulled back her hair.
Here stood the exact blueprint of the diner she’d envisioned. Cars filled the parking lot. A couple walked to a wooden stand, where there should be a sheet of paper where they could write their names. One grabbed a glass, turned the tap at the bottom of an old-fashioned glass barrel filled with water and citrus slices. They took a seat and started chatting, looking content to wait for a table to come free.
To the side, a fenced area housed two dogs playing in the sun, a third dozed in the corner.
Gone was the faded Herb’s! sign. The words Second Chances beamed out in thick black letters. She smiled at the jaunty tick on the tail of the letter ‘d’.
Tears blurred her eyes.
It’s perfect.
In a trance she exited her car, her insides wobbly, and walked the few steps to a new wooden door. The familiar bell jingled. She took a deep breath, taking a quick moment to compose herself, then pushed through the door and stopped dead.
Instead of booths, round tables were covered in the same thick white butcher paper she’d used. Her vases filled with flowers dotted the tables. White paint on the walls. Framed pictures of Montana in four seasons and the town. A picture of a young John in a circle of Walker and a group of teens was above the door welcoming them to the diner.
She stopped dead, her heart beating in her throat.
A smiling waitress wearing black pants and a matching black T-shirt walked past carrying plates of food. She couldn’t catch the name written diagonally from her shoulder to hip.
Wait, is that blackened catfish, coleslaw, and a baked potato?
Neighbors and friends raised their hands in greeting.
The lump in her throat grew to a boulder.
Time to get out before I lose it and break down.
She’d almost made it to the door when a hand clamped on her shoulder.
“Savvy.”
She turned and froze.
“Did I miss anything?”
Walker’s worried caramel eyes scanned her.
She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
His warm hand collected her icy one. “Miss Hattie was on my side after I outlined my plan to her. She called me a fool, then said she was glad I’d finally opened my heart to her girl, who had always been my girl.”
She closed her eyes in a long blink, willing her heart to slow to a gallop, and her brain to fire up and function, because none of this made sense.
Walker in the diner she’d always dreamed of?
“Missing your cakes though.” He grinned.
She opened her eyes and swatted at the tears. Billy-Bob grinned from behind the cash register. He gave her a thumbs up, then walked into the kitchen.
“We need to talk.” Walker’s voice permeated the thick fog shrouding her brain.
He guided her toward a free table at the back that overlooked the dog enclosure.
She sat on the edge of her chair.
Walker reached across, gathered her hands in his.
“Stay, Savvy.”
The Band-Aid that covered the wound in her heart, ripped away, searing her flesh all the way through to her soul.
She tried to pull out of his grasp.
“We’ve had this conversation, now please let me go.”
Damn.
She couldn’t keep the wobble out of her voice.
His grip tightened. “I didn’t know how much I was into you, into us, until I got back to my safe world.” His gaze locked onto hers. “I hated it. My world was empty because my life is here with you.” He rubbed his temple. “I’m probably doing this all wrong, but I want an us.”
Wait.
She frowned as his meaning took hold.
No.
Hell no.
She shook her head and yanked her hands from his. “You want exactly what I refused. I’m not your cake-baking booty call. I’m done playing house.”
She stood and the chair toppled to the ground. It dawned on her that the diner had gone silent. The weight of their collective stare burned a hole through her body.
I’ve got to get out of here.
Walker spun he
r to face him.
“Let me be.” Her voice was thick with emotion.
“I don’t want to play house. I’ve moved here, Savvy, to be with you. I can run my business from anywhere, but I can’t go forward without you in my life. I didn’t see the ‘us’ until I walked away and realized there had been an ‘us.’ I was too stupid to realize what I was feeling was love. Until you, I had thought my path through life would be empty.”
The sticky ball of emotion that had been a painful, never-ending cramp in her chest since Walker left, slid out of her mouth with a sigh. He rested his forehead against hers. “Everyone deserves a second chance.”
“I love you, Savvy.” He pulled a black velvet box from his jeans, flipped it open, grabbed her shaking hand, and slid a magnificent sapphire ring on her finger. “The color of your eyes.” He cleared his throat. “Savannah Williams please make me the happiest man on the planet by marrying me. Please say yes to baking fucking magical cakes, yes to you never cooking, yes to always wearing my T-shirt, yes to washing machine sex, yes to our babies, and yes to us.”
Savannah smiled through her tears at the complicated man she loved.
“I love you, too,” she whispered, then stepped forward, went up on her toes and brushed her lips against his. “Yes to you cooking, yes to my cakes, yes to wearing your T-shirt to bed, yes to discovering lots of places to have sex, yes to babies, and yes to us.”
“You remember when you said ‘only call me Savvy if you love me’? Well, Savvy, I do.” He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her to the backdrop of catcalls, laughter, clapping, and a few sniffs.
Savannah eventually ended the kiss when her friend Melissa called “get a room.” She giggled and looked around the diner at her neighbors and people she loved. Smiles greeted her. Billy-Bob’s eyes looked glossy, and a waitress squeezed her shoulder as she passed by with an order. A few weeks ago there had been one person in the diner – Walker, who’d blown into her life on a starburst of color. She’d vowed to tame his bossiness, or die trying, but she’d take his bossiness in the bedroom.
Speaking of the bedroom.
Her face flooded with warmth and her nipples began to peak.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Walker’s deep, dark voice murmured against her ear.