Walker’s hands flew out from underneath CiCi’s shirt and he took several steps away.
“I’m sorry! Did I hurt you? Did I do something you didn’t want me to do?”
CiCi shook her head and took a small step away from the wall. She was panting from being deprived of breath due to his insistent kisses as well as being excited and highly aroused.
She swallowed, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, and pulled him within inches of her face. “Did I tell you I wanted you to stop?”
“Well, no, but it sounded like you were in pain.”
“It’s the damned wall.” She poked a thumb over her shoulder as she released her grip on his shirt. “If you really want to pin me against something, Mr. Cain, you’re going to need to find something a lot softer.”
“Nothing that soft around here except the ground,” he said. “And it’s actually not that soft.”
“Well, if we don’t have any other convenient choice,” she said, placing a finger to her cheek in a facetious pose, “maybe we’ll just have to take turns.”
“Take turns?”
CiCi gave him a devious grin. She put her hands on his shoulders, spun him until they had swapped spaces, and then backed him against the wall.
Now it was her turn to take control.
7
CiCi put her hands on both sides of Walker’s face as she pulled him to her, intent on giving him a stupefying kiss. Her tongue flicked into his mouth to tease him, then traced the outline of his lower lip as she pressed herself to him. His throaty sigh of satisfaction gave her a wickedly silly sense of accomplishment, and she relished the contact, the intimacy, the intensity of the moment. She knew he had wanted this—to kiss her, to feel her, to be with her—for weeks, maybe months. She’d recognized his long looks of ill-disguised desire across the table at The Windmill for too long to believe that the only thing he’d been hankering after was the bite of pie on the tip of her fork.
Now that desire was mutual. She could no longer deny her attraction to this sweet yet lusty man.
She wanted him.
Moving her hands under his waistband, CiCi pulled out Walker’s shirt and slipped her hands onto his bare—and ripped!—chest. How the hell had she failed to sense how fit and muscular he was under all those simple shirts? Her hands moved upward, and she splayed her fingers across his smooth, warm skin.
Walker closed his eyes and took in a long, deep breath as her thumbs soon found his nipples—just as taut as hers underneath her bra—and moved them in little circles until Walker’s head fell back against the wall. He uttered a mild curse, sighed, and surrendered to her touch.
Then they both heard what sounded like footsteps on the stairwell inside the backdoor.
CiCi jumped back from him as Walker glanced at the distinct bulge in his pants and quickly sat on the half barrel.
Remaining still and silent, they both listened for the sounds of any approaching footsteps, but no one disturbed them. Momentarily assured of solitude, CiCi went over to where Walker sat and took a seat on the ground in front of him. He insisted on getting up to give her the barrel instead of the ground to sit upon, but she declined. His arousal was still quite evident, and if anyone did stumble upon them, CiCi realized it would be better for Walker to remain seated. When it became clear that any danger had passed, they sat smiling at each other and holding hands.
“I’ve been wanting to kiss you for weeks,” he confessed.
She closed her eyes and felt the blush spread across her face and chest. “Hope it was worth the wait.”
“What do you think?” he asked and glanced at his groin.
She burst into laughter, and it was infectious. They both roared, and their cries echoed off the far bank of Old Crow Creek and back to the distillery.
“What the hell’s going on out here?”
Bo Davenport had just popped his head out of the back door.
Walker and CiCi’s hands broke apart, and Walker almost fell off the barrel.
“CiCi got a little overheated in the distillery, so I brought her out here,” Walker explained as he readjusted himself on his perch. He pointed to the last remaining bottle of water, which was close to the door where Bo stood.
“I see,” Bo said, looking from one to the other. “I hope I didn’t interrupt… I mean… I didn’t want to intrude…,” Bo stuttered, turning pink. He quickly told CiCi that he hoped she was well and disappeared back into the building.
After a few seconds during which they listened to the sounds of Bo’s retreating footsteps, CiCi spoke.
“If you’re… um… recovered,” she said haltingly, “I think we ought to go.”
Walker looked down at his lap and concluded that it was safe for him to stand and leave. “And where do you want to go?” he asked suggestively.
She stood. “Somewhere with you.” She offered him a hand to help him off the barrel, but he declined.
“Remember what happened when I did that last time?”
“Yeah,” CiCi said. “And your point is?”
“I thought you wanted to leave,” Walker countered and rose without taking her proffered hand.
CiCi kissed him quickly once he was on his feet. “There. That little kiss shouldn’t cause you any problems.”
But Walker grasped her about the waist and pulled her back to him.
“Yeah, but this might.”
He held her to him and kissed her tenderly, then put his forehead against hers, holding her silently for several seconds.
“Why… why has it taken us so long to get to this place?” he stammered as he held her tightly.
“Your happy place?” she joked, although she sensed the seriousness in his question.
“No, just here, together, finally like this.”
She had to give him credit. He was an observant, intuitive man. And he was looking for reassurance, even after the small intimacies they’d just shared.
Walker sensed it. Her fear.
But how could she tell him it was nearly impossible for her to trust after having a father and husband desert her?
The moment wasn’t right, and she wasn’t ready.
“Just afraid,” she said, a true but not full explanation. “But maybe it is about you. I don’t think I could handle having my heart broken by someone as great as you.”
“Breaking hearts isn’t on my to-do list. Never has been. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever broken anyone’s heart.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve usually been the one on the unhappy end of a relationship, that’s why. I’m not that great.”
She wanted to ask questions about his marriage—because hadn’t that split been mutual and amicable, as he had told her one day at The Windmill?
“If you haven’t broken anyone’s heart, maybe you are that great. But you’re also great for another reason.”
“Me?”
She nodded and took his hands in hers. “I’ve never had any man be so polite to me, Walker Cain. You’ve been a gentleman and so respectful. You’ve gotten to know me, and you don’t know how much I appreciate that.”
“I’d like to get to know you even better.”
“Sounds like a promise.”
“It is if you can stand me hanging around.”
“I think I can bear that burden,” she said before they reentered the building.
Walker pulled her through the distillery quickly, telling her he was still worried that she could be adversely affected by the heat. “Since I’m around, I need to stop by Hannah’s office and tell her that everything with the delegation went fine this morning. Do you mind? She said she’d be here later in the day.”
“I don’t mind, but do you want me to wait in the lobby?”
“No, come with me,” he said, still holding her hand.
“You realize that if we show up like this together in Hannah Davenport’s office,” CiCi said, briefly holding up their entwined hands, “we’re more or less making some kind of
formal announcement to all of Craig County that we’re… we’re…”
He stopped as they exited the front doors of the distillery. Another tour group was coming through, and they had to move out of the way to allow the chattering tourists and the guide to pass.
“That we’re what?” he asked, obviously amused at her embarrassment and confusion.
“That we’re together, I guess is the way to put it.” She briefly considered using the thing phrase, but quickly decided against it since it was vague and silly.
“I have a better way to put it.”
“And that would be?”
“CiCi Summers, will you be my girlfriend?” he asked stiffly and formally. He kissed her hand and bowed.
“Yes, kind sir,” she said just as stiffly, but trying to stifle her laughs. She even gave a little curtsy.
Once in the visitors’ center, they headed directly for Hannah’s office and found the lights on but no Hannah. A high titter of laughter drew CiCi’s attention to the far left and toward the large lobby.
“I’d know that laugh anywhere,” CiCi said.
They headed for the lobby, although they were not holding hands as they walked down the short hall and toward the light-filled and busy area where guests gathered before the tours began.
Hannah was standing in the middle of the space with a woman who looked an awful lot like a flesh-and-blood version of Jessica Rabbit in a black business suit and sensible heels. When CiCi entered the lobby from the hallway, she took a few steps forward until she realized Walker was not by her side. She turned to see him standing in half shadow on the threshold between the lobby and hallway, his mouth slightly open and looking stricken.
“Walker?” CiCi walked back to where he stood like a statue. “Something wrong?”
He shot a quick glance at CiCi and licked his lips. “I didn’t know they were going to interview her so quickly,” he muttered.
“Interview who? What are you talking about?”
Walker took a step back into the hall as though he were retreating.
“Walker?” The redhead called to him with a wave.
Hannah turned, and her expression of general pleasantness changed to something approaching exasperation. “Walker? CiCi? Come on over.” She motioned for them to join her.
Walker entered the lobby, and reached for CiCi’s hand, which she happily gave him. As they approached Hannah, CiCi could’ve sworn she saw the redhead’s smile fade as they came closer.
“Hi, you two,” Hannah said. “Thought you’d be off at The Windmill today.”
“We’ve already been,” Walker announced, looking from Hannah to the redhead, to whom he nodded curtly. “Had to come back here to pick up my phone. Forgot it when I was here earlier this morning with that group.”
“Oh, how’d that go?” Hannah asked.
“They were really excited about the idea for Garnet Center Cut. Thought that was a great marketing move for us.”
“So do I,” Hannah said. “Wish we’d thought of it years ago. But then again, we didn’t have you here, did we?” she enthused.
CiCi heard what seemed like a normal conversation but was picking up a weird nervous vibe from all three of the people with whom she was standing. Like there was something everyone else knew but she didn’t.
“Oh, let me introduce you all,” Hannah said as if reading CiCi’s unease. “CiCi Summers, this is Jana Pogue.”
That name—Jana Pogue. Why was it vaguely familiar?
The two women shook hands and exchanged quick greetings. Jana seemed nice enough, but CiCi didn’t care for the way Jana gave her a very quick up-and-down look, something that always conveyed a distinct sense of contempt.
“And I know you two know each other,” Hannah said vaguely. CiCi watched Walker and Jana shake hands; he could barely crack a smile while she positively glowed at him.
CiCi felt jealous for the first time in years and moved a little closer to Walker.
“Jana just interviewed for the new heritage director position,” Hannah explained.
“This is a wonderful place,” Jana gushed as her eyes roved around the visitors’ center. “You’re all very lucky to work at such a gorgeous distillery.”
“Oh, I don’t work at Old Garnet,” CiCi piped up. “I’m the Craig Circuit Court Clerk.”
“Well,” Jana said, and she seemed to exude a sense of relief at CiCi’s clarification. “I really need to hit the road.” She thanked Hannah for her time, shook her hand, and said she was very interested in the new position. Jana barely looked at CiCi, grinned at Walker, and left.
CiCi excused herself to the bathroom. “I’ll meet you back here in a few.” She headed toward far end of the visitors’ center lobby, opposite the way she and Walker had entered the building. As she walked away, she cast a glance back at Walker, who wasn’t looking at her but at the departing Ms. Pogue.
* * *
Hannah and Walker waited until the women’s bathroom door had closed behind CiCi before speaking.
“CiCi has no clue who Jana is, does she?” Hannah asked as she turned to Walker after watching CiCi disappear into the bathroom.
“No, and I had no idea you were interviewing Jana today.” Walker sighed, unable to hide his irritation.
“We wanted to interview Jana as soon as possible, and this afternoon was the perfect time. I thought you and CiCi would be nowhere to be seen, out for your normal Saturday afternoon thing.”
But today had definitely not been their normal Saturday afternoon thing, judging from their past dates at The Windmill. The definition of what was normal for them had certainly changed in the course of several passionate minutes behind the distillery building.
“Like I said, I came back for my phone.”
“Walker, I’m going to tell you right now that we’re probably going to hire Jana. She’s perfect and can start within a few weeks.”
“Great,” he muttered without enthusiasm.
Hannah let escape an exasperated grunt and frowned at him. “You told us that the idea of Jana coming to work at Old Garnet wasn’t a problem for you. But your words and your reaction are telling me the opposite.”
“And that’s not changed. I just wasn’t ready to see her, and especially under these circumstances, with CiCi by my side.”
“Okay, fair enough,” Hannah said. “But be warned. Like I said, it’s likely we’ll offer Jana the job, and as early as Monday morning. I have to get the green light from both Bo and Lila, but from the discussions we’ve already had, I think that’s what they want to do.”
“I don’t need to be warned, Hannah. I’m a grown-up, and I can handle this.”
“Well, just in case your inner child decides to make an appearance, I’m telling you so you can let us know if it is a problem for you. Because as much as I like Jana, she’s a dime a dozen compared to you. And I mean that not only professionally but as your friend. I don’t want anything to rock the boat here at Old Garnet. We’ve gone through some rough times over the past year or so and more than earned our bit of peace. I’m not about to do anything to disturb our happy home.”
“Really, everything’s going to be fine if Jana comes to work here.”
“Good to know. But I think you still have a problem.”
“What’s that?”
“You still have to tell CiCi,” Hannah said, tipping her head in the direction of the bathroom.
* * *
A few minutes later, CiCi returned to the lobby and found Walker waiting for her, alone.
“Where’s Hannah?”
“Had to go back to her office. You all right?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” CiCi hesitated but knew she needed to ask the next question—and that Walker was probably expecting it. “How do you know that woman?”
Walker claimed CiCi’s hand. “C’mon,” he told her. “Let’s go outside first.” He began to pull her toward the doors.
CiCi wanted to resist but allowed Walker to lead her outside into the hot spring
day and to his car. After assisting her into her seat, he got in and turned the air-conditioning on full blast.
“Jana Pogue is my ex-wife,” Walker announced as his hands gripped the steering wheel with the car still in park. He didn’t look at CiCi as he made the revelation but soon turned to face her.
“You’re going to be working with your ex-wife?” CiCi asked slowly.
“I won’t be working with her. I’m off in the distillery. She’d be mostly in the visitors’ center.”
CiCi sat back in her seat, trying to digest this nasty tidbit of news.
“You knew this was going to happen?” she asked, staring straight ahead.
“Well, no, but—”
She turned on him, suspicious and irked. “I heard you say something that you didn’t expect she’d be interviewed so soon or something like that. Tell me the truth, Walker. You knew about this?”
CiCi was surprised at the anger and jealousy she felt starting to roil within her. But the real source of her wrath was that she felt that Walker hadn’t been honest with her. She saw how he’d looked at Jana. That wasn’t exactly an I’m-over-you-and-we’re-just-friends-now look.
“All I knew was that Hannah and Bo were interested in her, but I thought they’d try to get others in here for interviews. And I promise you I had no idea she’d be here at the distillery today or I’d—”
“Or what? Not brought me here?”
“No, I wouldn’t have done that.”
“Why?”
“So we could’ve avoided that awkward meeting in the visitors’ center.”
“Yeah, it was awkward, but mostly for you, not me,” she sniffed.
“I was surprised to see her. That’s all there was to it,” he said firmly. “So if you’re thinking that I feel anything for that woman, you can stop thinking that way right now. I filed for divorce, not her. I wanted out.”
“Then let me ask you this. Who broke whose heart? You told me not more than an hour ago that you were usually the one to walk away from a relationship with a big bunch of hurt. And from the reaction I saw you give her when you laid eyes on her, you’ve got a lot of hurt in there when it comes to your ex,” she said, poking him in the chest.
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