Walker Texas Wife
The First Book Cellar Mystery
Melissa Storm
K.M. Hodge
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Also by the Authors
About Melissa Storm
About K.M. Hodge
© 2016, Blue Crown Press
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher.
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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination, or the author has used them fictitiously.
Editor: Stevie Mikayne
Cover & Graphics Designer: Mallory Rock
Proofreader: Falcon Storm
Blue Crown Press
PO Box 72
Brighton, MI 48116
To the friendship that was found amid the secrets.
To each other.
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Chapter One
Annabeth
Annabeth King hated stereotypes, but knew she fit the hot-tempered Irish girl to a T. All morning she had been a powder keg waiting to go off.
An absurd discussion about the lyrics to Don’t Stop Believing had sparked the most recent fight between her and Marcus. In retrospect she knew the fight had had nothing to do with the song, the oppressive heat, or even the last two days spent traveling across the country. No, it had everything to do with the incident from nine months ago—the one they didn’t talk about.
“Either slow down, or pull over and let me drive,” she said, her shrill voice annoying even her.
Marcus, just as hotheaded, pressed down on the gas pedal making the orange needle on the dash hover at eighty-five. “Is this slow enough for you?”
As he erratically shifted lanes to navigate around the traffic, she grabbed hold of the Oh My Gosh bar to keep from being thrown against the door. “You’re going to get us killed. Pull over, and let me drive!”
“Can you even reach the pedals?” he growled, not taking his eyes off the road.
He fought dirty, always bringing up her height, knowing it would get a rise out of her.
Well not today!
Instead of shouting back an equally hateful retort, she bit her tongue until a small drop of blood welled at its tip. The acrid taste of it mixed with the sour words that she wanted to fire back at him.
Her lack of response seemed to calm Marcus as he dropped the speed back down. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the muscles in his chiseled jaw still twitched.
Their tempers had run hot from the very start, their vitriolic diatribes a kind of foreplay. But they were miles away from that now. As much as she hated him at that moment, she still found herself drawn to him; the longings from before had not been tempered by the incident.
His arms, she thought with a sigh, the thick muscular forearms and biceps that filled out the crisp white T-shirts that he always wore had been her undoing.
Even his smell left her intoxicated—a heady mixture of sandalwood and his own musk that made her mind wander to a much happier place and time. A time when she would have been tasting him instead of the bitter words that hung on the end of her barbed tongue.
Beside her, Marcus loosened his grip on the wheel and his breathing slowed. Without taking his eyes off the road, he slid his right hand onto her knee. His mocha colored hand stood in stark contrast to her almost translucent white skin. “I’m sorry.”
His baritone voice, full of contrition, calmed her frayed nerves.
“Me too,” she said, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.
For a brief moment he took his eyes off the road and flashed her a wide, dazzling grin that melted away some of her resolve to hate him.
“You’ve been driving awhile. Why don’t we pull over at the next exit?”
He gave her knee a quick squeeze then put both hands back on the wheel and worked his way over to the far right lane.
“Yeah, I could use a break.”
They pulled into a Shell station to make the switch and top off the tank. After filling up the tank, Marcus slid into the passenger’s seat and held up his phone. “Morgan wants an update by tomorrow.”
“No pressure.” Annabeth sighed as she merged their truck back onto the highway. Being behind the wheel at least gave her a feeling that she had some semblance of control over her world. She finally relaxed enough to enjoy the drive.
The heart of Texas was not at all what she’d expected back when they’d first decided to pack up and leave Detroit.
“I know it’s ridiculously hot out, but it really is a beautiful place,” Marcus mumbled beside her.
Annabeth scanned the horizon as she drove up a steep hill that overlooked the breathtaking green and yellow vista. “The trees look like broccoli.”
From the corner of her eye she saw Marcus smirk and roll his brown eyes.
“About earlier...” He rested his arm on the top of her seat.
Annabeth glanced at him. “It's all right. We're just tired. It's been a stressful week.”
Marcus huffed “A stressful year, more like it.”
He parted her hair with his fingers and began to rub the thick cords of tension at the nape of her neck. At his tender and insistent touch, she stopped breathing. It took everything in her to keep her eyes on the road and not let them slip closed.
Boundaries needed to be set, she thought as she took a breath at last. His hand felt so good that she couldn’t bring herself to tell him to stop.
“Yes, it has been a hard year for us, hasn't it? Though, the way I see it, things can only get better from here.” She let out a deep sigh, relaxing into his touch.
“Your mouth to God's ears, babe.”
As they pulled onto a deserted ranch road, they saw in the distance a small town up ahead—home.
“Turn right onto River Bliss Road. Your destination will be on the left,” the GPS announced.
“Thank Goodness,” Annabeth muttered.
They drove past the quaint
1970’s ranch style homes to the very back of the Peach Creek subdivision. Children were out playing on manicured lawns that looked too green to be real.
“All they need is a kid on a bike delivering papers and it could be a Norman Rockwell painting,” she said with no small amount of sarcasm.
Marcus chuckled.
It had been a long time since she had heard him laugh like that.
“That’s it, 1013 William Drive. Home sweet home.” He pointed to the last house on the left—almost identical to the rest of the houses on the block. For better or worse, it would be their home for the foreseeable future.
As they pulled into the driveway Annabeth noticed a young Hispanic woman watering the lawn next door.
Marcus nodded in her direction, trying to be discreet. “Go introduce yourself.”
She hated when he told her what to do. He knew this, but did it anyway. Just because she knew it was the right thing to do didn’t mean she agreed with his bossiness. She slammed the door of the car shut. The pointed blades of grass poked at her feet and made a crunching sound as she walked over. The woman crouched down in the flowerbed that divided their properties.
“Hey, neighbor.” Annabeth extended her hand in greeting.
The young woman looked up as she wiped her hands dry on the back of her white jean shorts.
“Oh, hi,” she said with an easy smile as she took Annabeth’s hand in a firm grip.
“I’m Annabeth, and this is my h-husband Marcus.” She hooked her thumb in Marcus’s direction, still a bit irritated at him.
“Hi, I’m Violeta, but everyone calls me Vi. Y’all need help unloading that truck of yours?”
“Sure, we can use any help we can get,” Marcus called as he flashed a charming smile her way.
Vi’s cheeks colored a faint pink. Her black hair curtained around her face as she looked down. He had that effect on women. It wasn’t the first time his smile had left another woman a little knock-kneed.
Before Annabeth might have gotten jealous, or at the very least shot him a look, but now she just felt numbed. She had perfected the art of hiding her feelings so well that even she didn’t know how she felt about anything anymore. They didn't call her the Ice Queen for nothing.
When Frozen came out, some of her colleagues had thought it was funny to give her an Elsa mug to go along with the awful nickname. And they wondered why I left. A small voice in the back of her mind reminded her that she hadn’t always been that way—he had been the exception.
Worrying her lip, a nervous habit, she fished out the house key from her pocket and jogged ahead of them. As she opened the door she felt a faint flutter of anticipation. This new beginning needed to be better than what she’d left behind in Detroit. It just had to be.
Behind her she heard Marcus’s teasing tone and the girlish laughter of their new neighbor.
“Ever onward,” she mumbled to the open house, steeling herself against the backlog of emotions that threatened to escape.
Annabeth put aside her growing troubles and took control of the unpacking process. Under her guidance, it only took the three of them two hours to unload the U-Haul trailer and unpack most of the boxes. She honestly couldn’t believe that Vi had stayed the entire time to help. Their new home had come fully furnished so they just had boxes of clothing and other personal effects, but still.
Vi grabbed the last one marked books from the back of the truck. “Are you a big reader, Anna?” she asked.
Annabeth grimaced. No matter how helpful their new neighbor had been, she just couldn’t have Vi calling her Anna. “Please call me Annabeth.”
“Oh Jeez, I’m sorry, Annabeth,” she said, her face turning a subtle shade of pink.
Darn it, this is why I have no female friends. She knew she came off as a jerk, but she honestly didn’t know how else to act. They didn’t have a how not to be a jerk class in school.
“Don’t worry—it’s silly really. Anyway, to answer your question, yes. I love to read. We moved here so I could get my Ph.D. in comparative literature. On the way down here I started reading Gone Girl. Have you read it?”
Vi clasped her hands together in front of her. “That’s what our book club is reading!”
“Well, that’s a coincidence, all right.” Annabeth smiled as she locked up the moving truck.
Vi lingered nearby even though the work was done. “You have to come. We’re meeting tomorrow night.”
“I don’t know...” Annabeth felt too tired to commit to anything except twelve hours of sleep in her new bedroom.
“Just think about it. We always have such fun.” Vi carried the last box into the house.
“Well looky, looky, a new neighbor,” called out a husky female voice behind her.
Annabeth turned around and saw a young woman about her age. The smartly dressed woman walked over to Annabeth with her dog in tow—a Pomeranian with a teddy bear cut and a bright pink rhinestone leash.
“Hi.” Annabeth extended her hand. “I’m Annabeth.”
“Pleasure to meet you Ms. Annabeth. I’m Brooke Fischer. I live two blocks down on Emily Street. You can’t miss it. The HOA just awarded us the yard of the month for the third month in a row.”
Flipping her long dark hair over her shoulder, she bent down to pick up her little dog and buried her nose in its fur. “This gorgeous little fur baby is Tiara. Say hi, Ti-Ti,” she said in a baby voice as she made the dog wave hello.
Annabeth fought the urge to roll her eyes or spout off some sarcastic remark that would more than likely go right over Brooke’s airy head. Not that she would have noticed. This woman only had eyes for her ridiculous-looking dog.
“Nice to meet you both,” she said, with a forced smile that she was sure looked more like a scowl.
Before she could say another word, Vi walked over to them wearing a delighted expression. “Oh good you two have met! I hope you don’t mind, Brooke, but I invited Annabeth to our little Drink and Gossip Club. You’re not going to believe this but she’s reading Gone Girl, too!”
“Well isn’t that a coincidence? How sweet of you to invite our new neighbor, Vi. Annabeth, please don’t feel like you have to join us. I’m sure you have loads to do. Just moving in and all,” Brooke said with a smile as fake as her own.
“Actually, I’m looking forward to it. It will be good for me to get out. I’ve been stuck alone with only my husband as company the last few days.”
Annabeth enjoyed watching her squirm. She hated women like Brooke, who looked down on her and treated her like a second-class citizen because she didn’t wear Jimmy Choo’s or get her nails done every week. Messing with Brooke would be a nice distraction from her complicated life.
“Of course,” Brooke said. “I don’t know if Vi here gave you all the particulars, but it’s tomorrow night, 8:00 p.m. at the Book Cellar on Main.” She put her dog back down on the sidewalk. “It’s been just swell chatting with you ladies, but I really need to finish my five miles if I’m to stay on track for my half-marathon training schedule.”
“Sure, of course, I look forward to seeing you tomorrow night.”
“Likewise. Toodles, ladies,” she said with a patronizing flicker of her hand.
Annabeth watched Brooke and her dog power walk around the corner, disappearing from sight.
“Isn’t she just great? We’ve been friends for forever it seems,” Vi said, almost gushing.
“Yeah, she seems very... nice,” Annabeth answered.
“Well I better skedaddle as well. I promised my sister I would swing by and take her to the movies tonight.” Her smile was so genuinely sweet that it made Annabeth want to protect her from all the horrors of the world.
Annabeth was not a hugger by any stretch of the imagination, but when Vi wrapped her arms around her and squeezed, she couldn’t help but reciprocate.
“Thank you so much for all your help tonight, Vi. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good time at the movies.”
Vi smiled. “No problem, what
are neighbors for?”
Annabeth fought back the sudden build-up of tears.
What was wrong with her? She wasn't the kind of gal who got mushy.
“Goodnight, Annabeth.” Vi made her way across the lawn to her lime green pickup truck and drove off.
“Goodnight,” Annabeth said to herself, Vi already gone.
The sound of the front screen door opening and closing made her jump. She felt Marcus before she saw him. He came up behind her, tilting his head down to her level. The familiar and comforting feel of him up against her made her want to fall back into his embrace—leaning on him like she once had. But she wasn't allowed to do that anymore, so instead she stood there using the last of her energy to stop herself from doing what came so naturally.
“I know the last thing you want to do is to get into that truck again, but we have no food. I Googled what’s around here—which is nothing, by the way. I did discover that there’s a Jet’s Pizza about 30 minutes up the road from here.” His boyish enthusiasm made her smile.
Marcus raked his fingers over his coarse, close-cropped hair the way he always did when he was tired. He had done the bulk of the driving all day and had to be exhausted. But he knew she lived and died for pizza so of course he’d scoured the Internet for the closest pizza place.
“All right, but only if I can drive,” she said with a wink.
Her heart raced and her breath quickened as he lowered his head a little more toward hers.
“Whatever you want, babe.”
Annabeth’s breath caught in her throat. His brown eyes glistened in his playful way that left her knock-kneed. For a split second she thought he might try to kiss her, but the moment quickly passed and he straightened to his full height again. The awkwardness returned, leaving her as frustrated and disappointed as ever. A part of her wondered if she actually would have let him kiss her this time.
They took the long drive through the Hill Country and back to the civilization of the big city in a comfortable silence. When she opened the door to the pizza place her mouth watered. They ordered a couple slices and two Diet Cokes. As much as they enjoyed the idea of small town living, there was something to be said about the conveniences Austin could offer.
Walker Texas Wife (The Book Cellar Mysteries 1) Page 1