Operation Homecoming

by Justine Davis

  Her head began to spin, and she wasn’t sure if it was the kiss or simply that she’d forgotten to breathe. Wasn’t sure she needed to, because it felt like she could live on this energy that had sparked between them. The world was tilting, and she didn’t care. Didn’t care about anything except the feel of him, the heat of him, the wonder of finally understanding what all the fuss was about.

  When he at last broke the kiss, she felt bereft. Felt the urge to renew it, to begin it herself, just to feel those amazing sensations again. She would, she thought hazily. Surely if Walker had kissed her first, he wouldn’t mind if she...

  Walker.

  Just the name was ice water on the fire he’d started.

  She’d not just let him kiss her, she’d liked it, and wanted to kiss him again, this man she’d spent years hating. Years wishing she could see him again simply so she could tell him what a heartless ass he was. Years wondering helplessly what had turned the boy she’d adored into a man she despised.

  She struggled for something to say, could only come up with, “Why did you do that?”

  “I had to,” he said, sounding almost as bewildered as she was feeling.

  She opened her mouth to say, “Don’t ever do it again.” The words wouldn’t come. She turned away instead, finished opening the door.

  Cutter was sitting just inside, looking up at them with great interest. She had the strangest feeling the dog knew what had transpired on the other side of the door, and was assessing what it meant. She nearly laughed aloud at herself.

  “I’ll take care of him,” Walker said, as if he was glad to have something to do. The thought that he was as rattled as she was should have been reassuring, but instead it only seemed to unsettle her even more.

  By the time she heard the door open and man and dog return, she was calmer, curled up under the covers, and if a little voice in her head accused her of hiding here in the bedroom, so be it.

  She had a right to hide, she told herself. Every aspect of her world had been upset. Her boss might be crooked; she’d been caught up in an apparent web of deceit and quite possibly criminal activity, and been nearly cornered by a murderous drug lord. She was rattled and off balance, she who so valued a balanced life.

  And now Walker Cole.

  She told herself that she’d just always wondered what it would be like to kiss him, so her imagination had played it up into enormous proportions once it had finally happened. Except that heat hadn’t been her imagination. Nor had the tingling, or the way her fingers and toes had curled, against her own will. It had all happened, along with other sensations she didn’t even have words for.

  So she was left with the undeniable fact that all the anger she’d carried around all these years hadn’t been enough to stop her from turning into a spineless wonder at the first kiss from him.

  First kiss.

  She’d thought it like there would be more.

  There couldn’t be more. Because she apparently was a bigger fool than she’d ever thought herself.

  It was a long and restless night.

  * * *

  “Can I see you for a moment in my office, Amy?”

  Great, Amy thought. Just what she needed after a sleepless night. Even the hour later start time everyone was allowed the morning after the party hadn’t helped.

  The sight of the tangled blanket and the pillow on the floor next to the couch, speaking of an equally restless night for Walker, hadn’t really helped much, either. And that uncomfortable ride into work, with neither she nor he saying anything beyond what was necessary: “Here’s the coffee,” “Where are the car keys,” “I’ll take care of the dog.”

  And the dog. That darn Cutter, sitting there staring at them, looking from one to the other and then away, as if he was unhappy with them.

  “Right away,” she answered, shaking off the memories, trying to force her weary mind to alertness. She needed that, to be alert, because this could be very important. He might even be going to quiz her on if she’d seen those files; maybe he was even going to approach her about the bait Walker had cleverly tossed out last night. She had to be on her toes, no matter that she was so distracted that she’d nearly put the wrong shoes over those toes this morning.

  The high drama in her mind vanished when she discovered Mr. Rockwell merely wanted to go over changes in the Douglas trust.

  “Nothing wrong with what you did, just a change requested this morning by the client.”

  She managed a smile as she sat down to take notes. “Don’t tell me his son’s back out again?”

  Mr. Rockwell smiled back. “No. Actually, we just need to delete references to the Sonoma property. It’s been sold.”

  “Well, that’s easy enough,” she said, but the simple answer sparked her curiosity. Why call her in here for that, when a simple mention in passing or an inner office message would have served?

  “I wanted to talk to you about something else,” he said then. Something about the way he said it made all those thoughts about high drama come flooding back.

  “Sir?”

  “You may think it none of my business, and perhaps you’d be right, but...are you serious about that young man you brought last night?”

  Well, this was an approach she hadn’t expected. “I could be,” she said hesitantly, hoping her tone would be put down to nervousness about discussing such personal territory with her boss. “Why?”

  “I’m a little concerned, Amy. The way he spoke of Alex Armistead...that was inappropriate for the setting and the company.”

  She blinked. This was the last thing she’d expected. “Oh,” she said, feeling she had to react somehow.

  “The fact that he’s Armistead’s employee makes it even worse. Careless at best, slanderous at worst.”

  Her mind was racing. He was warning her off Walker because of what he’d said? Not jumping on it, wanting to know more?

  Or was he just being subtle, testing, hoping that she would let something more slip. She tried to sound merely wondering.

  “It did sound like Mr. Armistead was up to no good, didn’t it? Do you suppose it was true?”

  “I find it distasteful either way.”

  “I mean, it almost sounded like something he could get disbarred for, didn’t it? That might be worth something to someone.”

  Her boss’s gaze narrowed sharply. “I suggest you think about that, and consider if you want to be involved with someone who would spread that kind of information about his employer.”

  His tone was beyond stern, and Amy couldn’t help wincing, reacting as if he were who she’d always thought him to be. His voice was gentler when he spoke again.

  “I’m just concerned about you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Send me the amended trust papers when you’re finished,” he said, clearly indicating the discussion was ended. She got to her feet and headed for the door. She had her hand on the knob when he spoke again.

  “That young man, Walker, was it?”

  She half turned back, holding her breath, wondering if in this last second it was going to pay off. “Yes?”

  “What is his last name?”

  Was that a bite? she wondered. Did he want the name so he could approach Walker about what he knew?

  “Campbell,” she said. “He knows Mr. Armistead’s son.”

  She wondered if she should have added that, if she was explaining too much. But Mr. Rockwell looked suddenly thoughtful, and she wondered if he was aware of the younger Armistead’s prior troubles. Troubles that Foxworth had helped get him out of, setting him on a clearer path for which his father had been deeply grateful. Grateful enough to play his part in this scheme without hesitation.

  But he said only, “All right.”

  It ended there, and she had no idea if it m
eant anything. But she hoped it did. Or maybe she hoped it didn’t. If he’d wanted Walker’s last name to make contact, then he’d taken the bait. Or at least, she thought as she went back to her desk, he wanted to investigate him.

  Quinn had assured her Walker’s background had been thoroughly set up by Ty, that any checks would find exactly what they wanted to be found. Which was that the reason Armistead had been Walker’s only hope for a job was that he had an arrest record. For blackmail.

  And that was the real bait. Once a blackmailer and all that. And blackmail material on a man like Armistead could be, as she’d said, worth a great deal to someone. Especially a rival law firm.

  And to someone already involved in money laundering, what was a little blackmail?

  Chapter 31

  “So where on earth did you find that simply scrumptious man? Spill, girlfriend!”

  Sometimes, Amy thought as she looked at her friend across the café table, Becca talked like someone on a female-centric sitcom. But this was the first chance they’d had for a one-on-one since this whole charade with Walker had started, so it was only natural she’d be curious. It was just that it was rarely Amy’s turn to share, since compared to Becca’s active social life her own was a drab experience, so it was usually Becca doing the sharing.

  “I met him downstairs in the Coffee Clan shop,” she said. “We started emailing first, and then...things just happened.” Quinn had echoed Walker’s statement that it was best to stay in character, not just so you didn’t have to keep track, but because you never knew who might say something to who. But she still hated lying to her friend.

  The thought brought a flash of memory into her mind. Quinn saying, “If they’re a friend they’ll understand later, when you can explain. And if they don’t understand, then they’re not much of a friend.” But it was Walker’s reaction to those words that had caught her attention. He’d gone very, very still, almost rigidly still. As if he’d had a very strong reaction to what Quinn had said.

  Or a very personal one.

  She could no longer believe he didn’t care. She knew he did. Which had opened the door to much more.

  “Girl, you are truly lost. I’d ask where you just went, but I can guess!”

  Amy gave herself an inner shake as Becca’s laugh brought her back to the present with a snap.

  “So, he’s that good, huh?” Becca said with a suggestive leer. “About time. You’ve had a long dry spell.”

  Amy felt a rush of heat at the suggestion, followed by the question that had been poking at her constantly. What if they hadn’t stopped? Just how far would she have let it go, simply because she’d never felt anything like it before?

  But Becca wasn’t quite through teasing her. “Although I have to say, if I’d seen him first...”

  Amy felt a twinge, a physical protest of Becca’s words. Because when it came to men, who Becca wanted she generally got. Amy didn’t think she’d go after Walker, not when she thought he was Amy’s, but she couldn’t deny the twinge.

  Jealous? Over Walker Cole? Had she truly fallen so far with one kiss? Admittedly it had been an explosive kiss, but still...

  “So, how did your boy talk Mr. Ethics Armistead into a do-nothing job?”

  For a moment all she heard was the “your boy.” She shook it off, focused on the “do-nothing” part. Because that put Walker safely out of Becca’s interest zone. Job-wise, that wasn’t high power enough. Nothing less than the corner office would satisfy Becca. Amy had never had any illusions about her friend that way, but Becca was so open and honest about her ambition she didn’t really mind.

  With an effort, she pulled her mind back to what she should be doing. And reminded herself that Becca had her boss’s ear, and anything she said might well get back to him.

  “Walker said he made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.”

  Becca’s head tilted inquisitively. “From what I know of Armistead, it’s hard to believe there’s anything he wouldn’t refuse to do if he really wanted to.”

  Amy lifted her eyebrows in a creditable effort at mystification. “Walker said knowledge is power, and he knows things.”

  “About Armistead?”

  “Maybe,” she said vaguely. “He knows the son, and he’s been in some trouble, I think.”

  “I heard something about that. It must be tough on the old man and that pillar-of-honesty reputation of his.”

  Becca said it with a touch of admiration, but just as much amazement, and Amy wasn’t sure what had triggered that. She pushed on with practicing the setup.

  “Walker knows something. He said the man wasn’t happy, but he didn’t have much choice but to hire him.”

  “Well, that’s interesting.”

  Amy realized Becca was looking at her speculatively. And that the picture she’d painted of Walker was in stark opposition to what Becca knew her taste in men was.

  “I didn’t even want to go out with him at first,” she said, then put on her best imitation of a love-struck female, “but he was so persistent, and he’s so charming.”

  “And cute.”

  “That, too,” she said with the best giggle she could manage. “And like you said, it’s been a long dry spell.”

  “Well, you enjoy, girl. You picked a tasty one, might as well live it up. Don’t worry about tomorrow. Some things—and men—should be just for fun.”

  Becca stood up, saying she had the weekly staff meeting to get to. She paid the tab and left a generous tip. They alternated, although Becca had tried to get Amy to let her always pay, since she made so much more. But Amy wasn’t comfortable with that, and although Becca had laughed at her principles, she hadn’t pushed the issue. Amy did notice she ordered less expensive coffees on Amy’s days to pay, though, and she thought that that kind of quiet consideration made her like the woman even more. Becca might be driven and ambitious, but she was also kind and thoughtful when she wanted to be.

  On their way out the door at Becca’s usual brisk pace, they nearly ran over Walker.

  “I thought I might catch you here,” he said to Amy with a brilliant smile. It was a different suit today, power black, with a black-and-white diagonally striped tie. And once more the color made his eyes—this time, the dark edge around the iris—all the more vivid.

  And she had to admit he struck the perfect balance, placing his arm around her, yet looking at Becca with frank, male appreciation.

  “Ms. Olson, isn’t it? We met briefly at the party last night.”

  “Becca, please,” she said with a smile. “And of course I remember you. I keep an eye on my girlfriend here. You’d better be good to her.”

  “And I wouldn’t want to cross you,” Walker said with a grin. “I’ve heard you’re more than formidable.”

  Becca raised a brow at him. “Researching the competition, are you?”

  Walker shrugged. “I figure it’s always good to know as much as you can. Who knows when it might pay off.”

  “Information is power?” Becca asked.

  “Something like that.” Walker grinned suddenly, charmingly. “But I’m not after power. Money will do.”

  Becca studied him for a moment before smiling widely. “In most cases it will do nicely.” She looked at Amy. “You take your time coming back. You know how long those meetings go. Marcus will never know.”

  And then she was gone, walking down the street in those heels Amy always marveled at. How she did it, Amy had no idea. Walker was watching her stride off, no doubt entranced as men often were, by the subtly feminine sway.

  “She turns it on a bit, doesn’t she?”

  “Look who’s talking,” Amy said drily.

  “Just playing my part,” Walker said. They were in the way of the door to the popular lunch spot so they began walking, more slowly than Becca’s confide
nt pace.

  “So why are you here?” she asked.

  “Looking to see my best girl, of course,” he said as lovingly as if it were true. He leaned closer, until she could feel his heat radiating over her. His arm slipped around her waist, pulling her to him, hip to hip. His head tilted, as if he wanted to be sure he didn’t miss the slightest thing she might say.

  It took her breath away, and her heart leaped in the moment before she saw Kim walking toward them, headed for the café. So that was why, she thought, her heart calming. He’d seen her coming, recognized her, known the masquerade had to continue. In fact, she was realizing the masquerade really did have to be nonstop, unless they were home alone.

  Home alone. Right. Thinking like that will help.

  Besides, they weren’t alone at her place. They had Cutter, and she’d never thought she would be so glad of the distraction. Although she had to admit the dog had begun an irksome habit of plopping himself down on her one comfortable chair, leaving the couch as the only place for her and Walker to sit. Together. Those had been the awkward times, moments when the memory of that kiss seemed to burn between them, and only the knowledge that they had no choice because they couldn’t rush this had made it bearable.

  Kim gave them a broad wink as she passed, but kept going, clearly on her lunch hour. And Amy sternly told herself she was not disappointed. She was not standing here wishing that it had been real, those words and the way he’d said them.

  “Can your Becca do that?” Walker asked, snapping her back to reality.

  “What?”

  “Give you a longer break.”

  “She’s not my boss, but she is a partner. So technically, yes.”

  “Then let’s take a walk.”

  “What do you want, Walker?”

  He let out a compressed breath. “So many things,” he muttered. Then, in a normal tone, he went on. “I have news. Quinn called.”

  Her brows furrowed. “He called you?”

  He lifted a brow at her in return. “Jealous?”