by Beth Andrews
“Hey, now,” Layne said, taking the coffee measuring spoon away from her sister. “I’ll take over. Why don’t you take the detective out back? Get some fresh air?”
Tori stomped out the back door and Walker followed. Found her sitting at the end of a picnic table in a small backyard, her head on her bent arms. He sat next to her. Lightly touched her wrist.
She raised her head. “I’m being a bitch.”
He scratched his cheek. “I’m not sure what the proper response is to that.”
Her lips twitched. “The proper response is for you to assure me that I’m being no such thing. The honest response is to agree.”
“You’ve been through a lot,” he said.
She snorted and leaned back, crossed her arms. “I think my pissy mood has more to do with the fact that they won’t leave me alone,” she said with a nod toward the house. “The only time I have any privacy is in the bathroom. I took a forty-five-minute shower just to escape them for a little while and Layne broke the lock. Said she was worried I’d drowned. In the freaking shower.”
“They care about you,” he said, wishing he’d been there for her. Wishing she wanted him there. “They just want to make sure you’re okay. Plus, they need you just as much. I imagine this isn’t easy for any of you.”
Tori tucked her hair behind her ear. “You’re right. I just…” She exhaled heavily. “I can’t stop thinking about it. I’ll forget for a few minutes and then suddenly I’m back in that room watching Celeste pull the trigger. Every time I close my eyes I see her lying there…”
“I’m sorry,” he said gruffly, fisting his hands on his thighs. “I shouldn’t have let her lead us to the office. I suspected she was guilty. I never should have let her get a hold of that gun.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Tori said gently, touching him for the first time since they’d made love. “I knew she kept a gun there. It had been her father’s and she kept it there for security. We’d all told her it was dangerous to have one in the restaurant but she’d said it made her feel more secure.”
“I’m still sorry I didn’t stop her.”
“Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe this way we can finally put the past to rest.” As if realizing she was still holding his hand, she slowly pulled away. “So, I guess this means your work here is done?”
“It is,” he said, watching her carefully. “I’m leaving today.”
She blinked. “Oh.” She smiled, one of her practiced smiles that didn’t reach her eyes. “Well, I’m glad you stopped to say goodbye before you left.”
“I could come back,” he heard himself say. Nerves tightened his stomach, had sweat forming at the base of his back. But he held her eyes, saw the question in the brown depths, the unease. “I’d come back for you, Tori.”
* * *
TORI’S HEART stopped, her mouth went dry. Walker watched her, his gaze intense, the sun catching the gold in his hair. He was strong and honorable and honest. He was a good man. Dependable and capable.
But the only person she could truly depend on was herself.
She smiled and shook her hair back. “Now, Walker, our night together was lovely and it meant so much to me, but let’s not get greedy.”
Hurt flashed in his eyes, pain she’d caused but better for him to hurt a little now, she assured herself, than to think there could be something between them.
“So that’s all it was to you?” he asked. “Just a one-night thing?”
“It’s what it was to both of us,” she said firmly, hoping that it was true. “We both knew going into this—”
“This?”
She waved her hand uselessly while searching for the right words. “This…friendship…that it had an expiration date. You have your life, your career back in Boston, and I have my life here.”
“And you don’t want to see if there’s a way for us to combine the two.”
It wasn’t a question, but she treated it like one. “What good would it do? Look, you’re a good guy but—”
“Don’t,” he said, whipping his hand out and grabbing her wrist. “I’m the guy you slept with two nights ago. The only guy you’ve been with other than your ex-husband so don’t you try to tell me it was because I’m a good guy.”
“I choose who touches me and when,” she said stiffly, “and I chose you the other night. And now, I’d like you to unhand me.”
He stared at her, then slowly opened his fingers, releasing her. Her hands shook and she tucked them into her lap. “As I said, the other night was great, but don’t make more of it than there was. I had to get back into the pool at some time.”
“So I was, what, your inaugural single-woman screw?”
She flinched, ducked her head so he couldn’t see that he’d hurt her. But that’s what happened when you loved someone, when you let someone get close to you. They hurt you. You hurt them back. She wouldn’t put herself in that position. Look what love had done to her family. Her father had loved her mother to distraction, to the detriment of himself and his pride. Celeste had loved Tim only to always be his second choice.
Tori got to her feet. “This conversation is over. Have a nice life.”
She made it to the door before his voice stopped her, the words whipping over her like a brutal wind.
“I’m in love with you.”
She froze. Grew dizzy. Locking her knees, she steadied herself and faced him. “Then you’re a fool. I’m not interested in love. I don’t want to love anyone other than my son.” And how dare Walker put her in this position? Love? God, it was the last thing she wanted, to be tied to another man, one who claimed he loved her. No. No, she repeated to herself firmly. Never again.
“Go back to Boston, Walker,” she told him. “And don’t bother ever coming back. There’s nothing for you here.”
* * *
ANTHONY TOOK A deep breath and then knocked on the door. His hands were sweating and he felt sick to his stomach. But he had to do this, had to make things right. A moment later, Jess opened the door. She frowned. “Layne’s not here.”
“I know,” he said quickly, sticking his foot in between the door and the jamb when she tried to shut it in his face. “I came to see you.”
She pushed harder against the door. “Too bad.”
“Please,” he said, knowing he sounded desperate but not able to care. “Please, Jess. Just give me a few minutes, then I’ll go and you’ll never have to see me again.”
He heard her sigh and then the pressure eased on his foot as she opened the door. “Fine.”
He looked behind her into his cousin’s house. Bobby O, Layne’s dog, barked, stood behind Jess, his tail wagging. “Can I come in?”
She crossed her arms. “No.”
“Okay, fair enough.” But that meant he had to grovel on the doorstep. He guessed he deserved that and worse. “I’m sorry,” he said slowly, trying to remember the words he’d chosen, the apology he’d practiced on his way over here. “I’m really sorry about the other night. I… God…I can’t believe I treated you that way, with such disrespect. That I said those things to you.”
Just remembering what had happened made him feel sick inside. He’d never, not once treated a girl so badly and while he had been drinking, he wasn’t about to blame his bad behavior on alcohol. He was a man. An adult. It was time to act like one.
“I have no excuse,” he continued when she remained silent, giving him one of her sneering looks. “And I’m truly sorry. A few months ago, you asked me if I could forgive you. Well, I’m asking the same thing. Can you forgive me?”
She twisted the bracelet on her wrist. “I don’t know. Besides, what does it matter? I mean, just because Uncle Ross is with Layne doesn’t mean you and me ever have to see each other.”
“It matters to me.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t stop thinking about you,” he said quietly. “Because I miss talking to you. Because I still care about you.”
She stepped back. “It doe
sn’t matter. I’m with Tanner now.”
“I know, and I respect that. It’s just…I’m leaving and I really want to know that you don’t hate me before I go.”
“Leaving? You mean you’re going back to school?”
“No, I…I joined the Marines.”
She blinked, her mouth dropping. “What? Anthony… God. Why?”
“You were right. I need to grow up and I can’t go back to school and follow in my father’s footsteps. Not now. I never wanted to be a lawyer anyway.”
“I know that, it’s just…the Marines? Are you sure about this?”
No, he was terrified. But despite that terror, he was also determined for the first time in his life to make something of himself on his own. In his own way. “I’m sure.” His heart raced and he tried to smile. “If I write to you, will you write back?”
“You’re really leaving?” she asked as if she couldn’t believe it. Maybe she’d miss him.
A guy could hope.
“Not for a few weeks but then…yeah. I’ll be heading to boot camp.”
Jess studied him then slowly nodded. “Yeah, I guess I could write you back. We can be friends,” she added.
“Friends. Sure.” It was a start, maybe more than he deserved after he’d been such an ass to her. “But I think, since we’re being honest here, I should tell you that I plan on coming back here in a few years. And when I do,” he added, leaning close, so close her eyes widened and she gasped softly, “I’m going to come after you.” He flicked his gaze to her mouth then met her eyes again. “I hope you’re ready for me.”
Before she could tell him to go to hell or that she changed her mind about them being friends, he went down the sidewalk, feeling lighter than he had since he’d discovered what his father had done. He reached his Jeep, unlocked the door.
“Anthony,” she called. He turned back; she stood in the doorway, her hand on Bobby’s head, her feet bare. “Be careful.”
He nodded. Waved and climbed into his Jeep. Before he shut the door he heard her say, “I don’t hate you.”
Smiling, he drove away, ready to take on his new life.
* * *
THE BREEZE PICKED up Tori’s hair, blew it into her face. She didn’t move, just stared down at the fresh grave. Shivered.
“I still can’t believe it,” Nora said as she came up beside Tori. “You know, I used to think that nothing was more important than the truth, that no matter what else happened, you could at least count on it. Now I wish the truth had stayed buried.”
They stared down at Celeste’s grave. They’d held a private service. Tim hadn’t attended, he’d felt too betrayed, was too torn up over everything that had happened. It’d just been Tori, her sisters and Ross and Griffin. But Tori hadn’t cried. She couldn’t. She was all cried out, all she felt was numb.
“I don’t know,” Layne said from Tori’s other side. “When we discovered Mom had been killed, I wanted to deny it. I didn’t want to admit that all these years I’d hated her so much, resented her so much and she’d been taken from us. I felt so damn guilty, as if I hadn’t had any right to those feelings but they were the truth,” she pointed out. “They were real and honest. She wasn’t the best mother. But she was ours.”
“She was ours,” Tori repeated. “She was selfish and so beautiful and fun and irresponsible.”
“She was ours,” Nora said softly. “For all her faults, she helped shape who we are, who we turned out to be. For good or bad.”
Layne nudged Tori’s hip. “Speaking of good, what happened between you and Walker?”
Tori slid her sister a sidelong look. “Now, you know I don’t kiss and tell.”
Layne rolled her eyes. “Drop the act. We saw your face the day he came to see you after Celeste died.”
“What about my face?”
“You were devastated,” Nora said gently.
Tori fidgeted, her heels sinking into the soft ground. “Of course I was. We all were. We’d just discovered the woman we’d taken in as part of our family had killed our mother.”
“No, that wasn’t it,” Layne said. “Or at least, not all of it. You were hurt Walker left.”
She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Shows how much you know,” she said, sounding like a teenager. “I told him to leave.”
“Why on earth would you do that when it’s obvious you’re in love with him?” Nora asked.
Panic slid into Tori’s chest, made it difficult to breathe. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“What’s so ridiculous about it?” Layne asked.
“Because I can’t love him,” she blurted. “I’ll just mess it up.”
“Probably,” Layne agreed. “But since when has that stopped you from going after what you want?”
Tori laughed harshly. “Are you kidding me? I never go after what I want. I’ve stayed in this town, afraid to move forward, my whole life. I got pregnant and married Greg even though I knew it was a mistake, stayed with him for Brandon’s sake, though that was wrong, too. For all of us.”
“What do you want to do?” Nora asked as if she was really interested.
“I want to run the café,” Tori heard herself admit. Then she blushed madly. Forced a smirk. “Crazy, right?”
Nora shook her head. “I don’t think that’s crazy. I think it’s a great idea.”
“Me, too,” Layne said.
Tori’s jaw dropped and she faced her older sister. “You do?”
“Of course.”
To her horror, Tori burst into tears.
“Hey, hey,” Nora said as she wrapped her arm around Tori’s shoulder. “It’s okay. Everything will be all right.”
She shook her head. “It won’t. I sent him away. I was so scared. He told me he loved me and I sent him away.” She looked at Nora then Layne. “What do I do?”
Layne wrapped her arm around Tori’s waist and squeezed. “That’s easy. You get him back.”
* * *
THE FIRST CLUE Walker had that something was up was when half the department rose as one and stared out the window. Walker continued filling out his report, kept his face turned toward his computer screen. Ever since he got back two weeks ago, he’d kept to himself, had downplayed his trip to Mystic Point.
The second clue came a few minutes later when someone opened the door and the entire room went silent.
The back of his neck prickled with apprehension. With awareness. He stilled.
“Good morning,” a husky, familiar voice said, one that had filled his dreams for the past two weeks. “I hope one of you can help me. I’m looking for Detective Bertrand?”
Walker hunched over his desk, realized he was trying to hide in a room full of people, some of whom had a clear view of him, and straightened to see several of his male coworkers point his way.
Tori. In the middle of his workplace looking like a goddess in her tight, dark jeans and a clinging red top. Their eyes met across the room and it was all he could do not to get up and walk away like she’d done to him after he’d declared his feelings for her like some love-besotted idiot.
“Here,” one of his coworkers said, surging to his feet, “I’ll walk you over.”
She broke eye contact with Walker long enough to smile at the poor fool at her elbow. “Thanks, but I think I can take it from here.”
Walker didn’t move, couldn’t, as she came toward him in that hip-swaying, drool-inducing walk of hers. He managed to tear his gaze from her long enough to note that all the men in the room were checking out her ass—an ass he had firsthand experience to know was top-notch—as she crossed the room.
“Hello, Detective,” she said in that purr of hers as she stopped beside his desk.
“Mrs. Mott,” he said curtly. He wouldn’t ask her why she was there, wouldn’t lower himself to admitting how much he’d missed her, how he’d thought of her every freaking day.
“Is there somewhere private we can talk?” she asked.
He flicked his gaze up to her then went b
ack to his work. “I’m busy.”
From the corner of his eye he saw her fidget, play with the strap of her purse. She was nervous. Good. She should be nervous.
“Okay, if that’s how you want to play this,” she murmured, “that’s how we’ll play it.” She inhaled deeply. “I love you.”
And once again, the room went silent. Walker’s neck heated with embarrassment and he leaped to his feet, wrapped his hand around her wrist and all but dragged her out of the room, down the hall and into the break room. He shut the door and leaned back against it, though he imagined more than one curious soul would be making their way down the hall in the hopes of overhearing his and Tori’s conversation.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asked.
“What does it look like?” she asked, sounding slightly put out, as if he was trying to make her life uncomfortable when she’d done nothing but make his life a living hell since he’d met her. Christ, but he’d missed her. “I’m here to win you back,” she continued. “Or did you miss the part where I said I loved you?”
“No,” he managed to reply through gritted teeth, “I didn’t miss it. No one missed it including my coworkers and my boss.”
But she didn’t seem to care about any of that. “Well?”
“Well what?” he growled.
“Well, don’t you have anything you want to say to me?”
“Oh, believe me, I have plenty I want to say, but my mother taught me not to use certain language in front of women.” He shoved away from the door. “You hurt me,” he said, the words bursting out of him despite his best effort to keep them inside. “I told you I loved you and you threw it back in my face.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Walker, please,” she said, holding out a hand. “I’m so sorry.”
But he didn’t want her touching him, didn’t want her here, not when he’d been trying so hard to forget her, to pretend his feelings for her never existed, that they weren’t real. “It doesn’t matter. What the hell was I thinking, anyway? How can I possibly love you? I’ve only know you a few weeks.”
“Don’t say that. We may have only known each other a short time but I know you and you know me. Maybe better than anyone ever has. You see me, no matter how hard I try to hide, you see me. I want you to. I want to share myself with you, my thoughts and dreams, my hopes and fears. Everything. Only with you, Walker. Please say you want that, too.”