The sound had Walker looking down again. Her lips were right there, so he kissed her a second time. Audience or not.
The last thing Walker heard was the sound of Callen’s laughter. “You’re welcome.”
Chapter Seventeen
This was one of those overcast mornings when Mallory would rather lounge in bed than get dressed and come downstairs. One of the bad parts of being self-employed was that she had no choice.
She had barely opened the store, she’d just unlocked the door from the inside, when it swung open behind her. She whipped around in time to see Walker enter, head down and looking at his cell, takeout coffee cup in hand.
Having him smash into a wall seemed like a bad idea so she tried to derail him before that happened. “Hey.”
“Damn.” He jumped back when the hot coffee bubbled out and swung the cup away from her to take the brunt of it on himself. “Sorry.”
“You okay there?” She put out a hand to steady him. Touching him sparked the energy that always arced between them.
He’d stayed at Shadow Hill last night. She’d been there for hours, too. That’s what happened when a Hanover male got engaged. They threw an impromptu dinner. The only question was who looked more thrilled, Grace or Callen. Mallory thought that race ended in a tie.
She was so happy for them. They didn’t do fancy or fanfare. They wore smiles and Callen beamed with pride. It was a reminder of what love should look like.
And that made seeing Walker this early, before she’d built up her daily defenses, all that much harder. “What are you doing here?”
“Here.” He held out the coffee cup.
Clearly he missed the part where she served coffee as part of her job. Had customers that paid her for it and everything.
All those smart-ass comments backed up in her throat. She took it, and since he kept staring at her, took a sip. “Thanks.”
“I thought you shouldn’t have to make your own.”
Well, that was just about the sweetest thing ever. “I am spoiled since you make it for me when you stay over.”
One of the many reasons she loved having him in her house. The place was small but cozy. When he walked in, with his height and his personality, it felt as if he took up every inch. And without a word of complaint or being asked, he did things for her. Picked up the bathroom. Gathered the garbage. Unloaded her tiny dishwasher.
The really sexy stuff.
Forget the whole buying furs and going on fancy vacations. A guy who could clean her toilet was a keeper. He was not a guy afraid of housework. If anything, his expertise far surpassed her system of brushing dust bunnies further under furniture and out of sight.
His cell buzzed and he glanced at the screen. When he lifted his head the smile he plastered there made her twitchy.
That could not be good. “You okay?”
He shoved the phone in the front pocket of his black pants. The more-casual-than-usual black pants. The ones he wore with a V-neck sweater and crisp white shirt underneath. The ensemble gave him the hot-businessman-hanging-in-a-café vibe.
That totally worked for her.
“Some questions at work. No big deal.” He reached over and grabbed her cup. Took a sip.
Ah, yes. The subject they never discussed. Not that it was a big secret. She knew he was in trouble. She’d overheard something about a hearing, and a bunch of people called from the office each day.
“Do you want to talk about it?” She willed him to say yes.
“It’s boring.”
The man stayed consistent. She had to give him that, even though it made her want to scream. “Walker, this is the perfect opportunity to bring me deeper into your life.”
“That’s why I’m here.” He shifted his weight around. Generally looked uncomfortable in his skin. “To ask you out on a date.”
They’d slept together about fifty times and spent a good portion of yesterday morning kissing so the dating had her blinking in confusion. “What?”
“Two people who like each other get together, enjoy each other’s company and talk. It’s a simple concept.” He talked slow.
That made her want to hit him fast. “Oh, good. You’re smart-ass Walker today. It’s like dealing with Callen.”
The amusement wiped right off Walker’s face. “The day you start calling me Callen is the day I change my behavior.”
“Good to know.” She put the coffee cup on the counter behind her. She’d need to switch it to one of her cups or that would just be weird for the customers.
Walker eyed her up with his hands on his hips. Not exactly the most loving stance ever. “So, yes?”
“What am I agreeing to?” Because she was. She totally was.
“A date.”
Wow, he was terrible at this. “What is going to happen on this date?”
“Are you asking about sex?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
Callen was right. Walker needed a coach. Maybe a whole team of dating assistants. “Try again.”
“I . . . what?”
There is no way a grown man who looked like him and had sex the way he did led a dateless existence. That meant the women who came before her either communicated with him via text where this sort of fumbling wouldn’t be seen or . . . she actually couldn’t think of an or.
“Walker, you have a law degree and managed to survive to thirty-five years without some other woman killing you. You can do this.”
He gritted his teeth together. “I’ll make you dinner.”
She seriously considered making him try again. “Can you cook?”
“I guess you’ll have to take that chance.”
This time she could. And gladly. “You want to use my kitchen?”
“It’s either that or the battery on my car.”
Some of the changes in him she didn’t like as much as others. “More sarcasm. Awesome.”
His lip twitched. “Is this better?”
Quick and without warning, he stepped in and swept her up against him. Her feet actually left the floor. The kiss filled her head and the buzzing in her ears made her dizzy. Still, she didn’t break away. Her mouth met his and every other concern drifted away.
When he lifted his head she had to fight the urge to kiss him again. She would have if he hadn’t lowered her. If the flash of people walking by on the street hadn’t caught her attention.
If inventory didn’t wait for her to stroll into the storeroom and through the shelves and do it.
She stepped back before she could grab on again. “You should leave before customers start arriving.”
His eyebrow lifted. “Are you ashamed of me?”
Hardly that. “The women get all rowdy with you here.”
“Okay.”
Not really since they talked about him for an hour after he left last time. That was a bit more than she could handle. “I think it has something to do with your ass.”
His face went blank. “I don’t know what that means.”
“You’re hot.” Good grief, how could he not know that?
“I’m happy you think so.” He lifted her hand and gave it one more kiss. “So, dinner?”
That attempt was a bit better. The kissing helped. “It’s a date.”
“And Callen and Declan think I need a handbook.” He snorted. “Fuck that.”
That’s what they were doing now? Comparing notes? “I think you all need a keeper.”
“Oh, yeah. No question about that.”
***
Callen followed Leah through the upstairs hall. When she slammed to a halt, he ran into her back. He looked around her to see what had her frozen in action.
The sight was not good. Declan on his hands and knees with half of his upper body tucked under the guest bed in the room no one used. Even for the things that went on in this house this seemed weird.
Leah leaned against the doorframe. “What are you doing?”
After a pounding sound, Declan jerked and he smack
ed his head. Scrambling, he got halfway out but his arm stayed hidden under the fabric on the bed and the darkness underneath it. “What?”
Yeah, whatever was happening in here was worth dropping his work and coming upstairs to help Leah open a stuck lock on a cabinet. Callen would never complain about interruptions and a lack of privacy in the house again. “How was that question not clear?”
Leah went with an eyeroll. “Declan, you’re crawling on the floor.”
“It’s weird, man.” There had to be an explanation and Callen was not leaving until he heard it.
“I was looking for something.” Still that one arm didn’t move.
Not his best comeback ever. Something about this scene made Callen want to check under all the beds. “Interesting.”
Declan frowned up at his brother. “Why are you in here?”
“In case you say something so stupid that I have to keep Leah from throwing you out the window.” And Callen worried that was a real possibility.
Leah’s drop-mouthed look of confusion still hadn’t faded but she didn’t back down in what she said. “If I wanted him to, he’d go. Callen stays.”
“Is anyone hungry?’ Declan asked as he looked from Callen to Leah.
This was as bad as watching Walker operate. Callen had to hope Beck did better at this sort of thing . . . whatever this was. “For the record, that was a terrible change-the-conversation moment.”
“I’ll ask again.” It also looked as if she was performing a mental countdown. “What are you doing?”
“A shoe.” That’s all Declan said.
Callen tried not to but he had to laugh. “That wasn’t even a sentence.”
Declan shook his head. “It’s nothing.”
“You can’t sell that now.” Leah looked over to Callen. “Right?”
He didn’t know what the hell was going on but Declan kept throwing frantic looks every time Leah wasn’t facing him, which was rare right now. “I’m Switzerland.”
“Whatever.” She pushed away from the door and walked farther into the room. She held out a hand and motioned for Declan to come closer. “Stand up.”
“Why are you guys worried about my shoe?”
Leah looked over her shoulder at Callen. “Is he kidding?”
“I don’t know what the hell is happening.” And that wasn’t subterfuge. Callen actually had no fucking clue.
Declan groaned as he brought his arm out. “This.” He mumbled something profane under his breath. “Here.”
Callen strained to see the title of the booklet. Something about jewelry and special occasion and . . . “Oh, shit.”
Leah crouched down, balancing on the balls of her feet. “Declan, is this—”
“I’m looking at engagement rings.” And now he sounded really pissed off about it. “For you, in case that’s not clear.”
“Now you’re just being ridiculous.” Callen felt the need to point that out because, come on.
Leah ignored him. “You’re going to ask me to marry you?”
With his hand in the air and a shake of his head, Declan leaned against the dresser that sat behind him. “Not right now, so don’t get all excited.”
“So romantic.” Yeah, Declan and Walker were definitely related. They both sucked at this sort of thing. Callen could only wonder how guys who were blood related to him got this kind of shit so wrong . . . though Grace would probably say he needed work in this area, too.
Declan glared. “Leave.”
“No fucking way.” Callen would have to be dragged out of there and he doubted anyone had the strength to do it. Not when he was settled in and watching this kind of crazy nonsense.
After a long breath Declan leaned his head against the dresser and closed his eyes. “Walker and Callen convinced—”
“Walker?” Leah shouted the name.
Callen felt obligated to pipe up. Leah had the right to feel whatever she felt, but the days of hating Walker because he was a dick appeared to be over. “He offered a pretty strong case in favor of Declan asking you.”
This time Leah’s mouth did drop open as her head slowly turned back to Declan. “You needed someone to make a case on this topic?”
“Because of your father.” Declan spoke so quickly that his words rushed together.
With that Leah’s shoulders fell. “Oh, Declan. You think . . .” She shook her head. “My dad doesn’t want to make up. He wants me to leave you and beg his forgiveness.”
“That’s kind of what Walker said.”
Leah groaned as she stood up. “So, I have Walker to thank for this proposal that may happen in the future once Declan is no longer ticked off about being caught going through jewelry catalogues.”
That about summed it up, except for the part where Callen kept pushing for a ring. “And me.”
Leah smiled. “Of course.”
“Walker took on your father at the diner,” Callen explained. “Told your dad how great we are.”
That wasn’t exactly what they heard but close enough.
“They argued over breakfast.” There were stupid details and Callen left those out. “My point is, you may want to rethink hating the guy.”
“Possibly.”
Callen figured that was as much as he could get out of Leah. He quit while he was ahead . . . sort of. “I’ll be in the yard.”
Leah wasn’t looking at anyone but Declan now. “And we’ll be here.”
Chapter Eighteen
Walker woke Mallory up with his tongue between her legs. Pretty much the best alarm clock ever but the hours since had run steadily downhill.
With her mind still a bit hazy, she stood in the Hanovers’ yard. She was semi-awake, dressed, out of the house and halfway between grumpy and violent as she walked the last few steps from Walker’s car to the front porch of Shadow Hill. For a day that started off so well, everything annoyed her now. Including the slamming of Walker’s car door behind her.
She’d expected him to drive away. It’s not as if he’d been paying attention to her or anything she had to say on the ride over anyway. As soon as they were out of bed this morning he picked up the phone. They’d now gone almost fifteen minutes without him saying a word. She wanted to blame the cell’s buzzing but his secrecy really was the issue.
The sole of her ankle boot touched the bottom step and she whipped around to face him. “You ready to tell me what’s wrong?”
“Whoa.” His hand touched her hip as he almost ran up her ass.
She ignored the zing that hit her every time he came this close. There would be no more zinging until he straightened out his behavior.
When he didn’t answer, she tried again. If he thought pretending he hadn’t heard her would work as an avoidance mechanism, he had a surprise coming. She was not a woman who accepted that as a response. Well, not anymore. “Walker?”
“Work stuff.” The same refrain he’d repeated about a hundred times since the cell switched to constant ringing.
“Walker, stop with the nonsense.” The temptation to snatch the phone out of his hand and crush it under her heel pulled hard. She went with making a needed point instead. “I had a two-year-old in the store recently who had better communication skills than you.”
He had the nerve to smile at her. “That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?”
“I was being nice.” She’d settle for coherent since her brain had hit the frantic spinning stage.
He stood just below her, putting them face-to-face. This close she could almost see his brain ticking as he struggled to stay in the moment with her while he clearly wanted to be somewhere else.
“I gave you an honest answer,” he said.
If he didn’t sound so reasonable in his confusion her temper might have started a steady soar. Instead, she battled the frustration that swamped her whenever she dealt with Walker and his cut-off-from-everyone trait. She tried again. “But you’re not actually saying anything. Talk to me.”
As if he sensed his phone might be in
peril, he tucked it into his front pocket. “It’s nothing important.”
“Which is why you’ve been glued to your cell since your feet hit the floor this morning. I’m surprised you didn’t smuggle it into the shower with you.” Or maybe he had. She couldn’t be sure.
He put the bottom of his foot on the edge of the step above his. “That’s a bit of an exaggeration, isn’t it?”
“Nu-uh.” There. Let him see how it felt to get a useless answer to a simple question.
He frowned. “What?”
“How do you like it?” She almost pointed out that he made her passive-aggressive until she realized she more like aggressive-aggressive. Just the kind of response this situation warranted. “The cryptic bullshit gets old fast. Just wait. You’ll see because that’s all I plan to give you until you either fess up or give up and leave Sweetwater.”
“I’m not leaving.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Are we really going to do this?” Then he turned all FBI guy on her. His hands went to his hips in a cocky stance that said, I’m in charge.
He had to be kidding with that. Nothing about him getting angry scared her. Others might panic or call the local police. She wanted to roll her eyes.
“I’ve figured out that’s your tactic. Instead of answering the question or dealing with what’s in front of you, you ask questions or give this nonanswer.” Probably had something to do with his training, but it was about time he realized she was not a case. “Then you do that guy thing.”
“Do I want to know what that means?”
“You make it sound like I’m the one being unreasonable.” As far as male defense mechanisms went that was her least favorite.
His keys jingled in his pocket when he shifted his leg. “You might be overthinking this.”
And there he went proving her point. “Example A.”
“You’re not making sense.”
Many more comments like that and he’d need a cell phone app to breathe. “That’s what you’re going to go with? That I’m the hysterical female?”
“Okay.” He held up a hand. “Wait a second. I never said anything like that. I never would. You’re strong-willed, not hysterical.”
She saw the exact moment he realized he’d taken a wrong turn with the whole “overthinking” thing. The wide eyes and tension pulling tight over his cheeks. The man acted like an idiot sometimes, but under all that gruffness his brain still functioned.
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