Wicked Hearts (Poplar Falls Book 3)

by Amber Kelly

  “Did the girls get off okay?” she asks me.

  I know good and well they had to pass right by her to get the keys and drive off.

  “Yeah, they are headed to Sophie’s house.”

  “Good. I hope they enjoy their afternoon,” she says.

  “Can you call over there and ask if Elle is feeling all right?” I ask her as she stands.

  She looks at me over her shoulder. “Why would I need to do that?”

  “She took a spill out on the slippery ground and bumped her head pretty hard. I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

  “I’m sure she is.”

  “I’d feel better if you checked anyway,” I insist.

  She smiles and gives me a quick nod. “I’d be happy to. Now, you fellas want a snack before you head out to work?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Si answers, and we follow her in.

  We take plates and mugs from the cupboard, and she grabs the phone on the kitchen wall to call Sophie while we help ourselves to coffee and a pan of cinnamon rolls resting on the stove.

  Doreen hangs up the phone and joins us at the table.

  I look at her in question.

  “She’s fine. Dallas and Beau are coming over, and they are going to make lunch,” she says as she reaches and pats my arm.

  I feel myself relax.

  Maybe I did overreact, but I’m not sorry for stopping her from taking off on the quad. A fact that is even clearer once I see the snow starting to fall again.

  I bet Elle is excited if she is watching out a window.

  I need to apologize.

  I have to do something to make it up to her.

  Elle

  We make it to Sophie’s, and I park in the drive. Sophie is on the deck and waves us up when she spots us coming down the walk.

  “Wow, this place is nice,” Sonia compliments when Sophie opens the back door to let us in.

  “The boys did a great job,” Sophie agrees.

  “Gah, I hope to find a man who has the talent and love for me to build me my dream house someday,” Sonia muses.

  “You’d better start fishing in different ponds,” I mumble under my breath.

  She turns and gives me a look. “I heard that,” she snaps.

  “I’m just sayin’.”

  I shrug off her comment. She knows it’s true. Ricky isn’t building anyone anything.

  Sophie gives Sonia the grand tour while I use the bathroom. I touch the tender spot on the back of my head. I have a small knot. Embarrassment floods me again. I can’t believe I did that.

  I hear the doorbell chime, and I shout up to Sophie that I’ll get it.

  “Elle!” Beau shouts when I open the door.

  “Hey, Beau. I didn’t know I was going to get to see you today,” I say as he wraps his arms around my legs.

  Dallas squeezes in past her son, and Cowboy—Beau’s dark brown Lab puppy—darts between my legs and comes skidding to a halt on the kitchen floor.

  “Yeah, he got off school early today to see his pediatrician, so I played hooky this afternoon too,” she says as she sets a bag on the kitchen island.

  “Are you playing hooky?” Beau asks me.

  “I sure am. Looks like we are having a girls’ day,” I say.

  He wrinkles his nose. “But I’m here. I’m not a girl,” he protests.

  “That’s true. I guess we are having a girls’ and Beau day. Is that better?”

  “Not really,” he says.

  I laugh as I lead him into the kitchen and shut the door. The phone rings, and Sophie answers after she and Sonia have descended the stairs.

  “Hello? Yeah, they got here about ten minutes ago. Dallas and Beau stopped by too and we’re about to make lunch. Why? Okay.” She hangs up and looks at me.

  “That was Aunt Doe asking if you guys made it here all right. Walker was worried for some reason.”

  I roll my eyes. “He’s so dramatic, I swear,” I huff.

  Sophie and Dallas stand there, looking at me, waiting for more of an explanation.

  “I had a little trouble with an ATV, and he wouldn’t let me drive it. He tried to force the side-by-side on us, but I was a brat and refused,” I tell them.

  “A little trouble? You flew off that thing like a slingshot, and it freaked Walker the hell out. I’m surprised he let us leave at all, to be honest. He was too stunned to think clearly,” Sonia corrects my version.

  “It wasn’t that bad,” I argue.

  “It looked that bad from where we were standing, and it rattled your brain for a minute there. You tried to play it off, I’ll give you that, but I don’t blame him for reacting the way he did. Except for the kissing part—that was unexpected.”

  Sophie’s and Dallas’s eyes fly to me.

  “Kissing?” Dallas asks.

  “Not kissing, kissing. He just kissed my forehead. He was shaken.” I cut my eyes to Sonia. “Unwarrantedly shaken,” I emphasize.

  She ignores my tone. “And your nose. Don’t forget that he kissed your nose after the fact,” she points out.

  That was odd, but I pass it off because I have no idea what that was about.

  I just shrug, and Dallas looks at Sophie with wide eyes.

  “Don’t make something out of it.” I gesture at Dallas.

  “I’m not. Walker has always been protective of all of us,” she says. “Though he’s never kissed my nose before, but whatever.”

  “Nana kisses my nose all the time,” Beau says from his spot on the floor.

  Dallas points down. “Big mouths and little ears. I keep forgetting that he hears and repeats everything now,” she says.

  Hawkeye—Braxton and Sophie’s bulldog—spots Cowboy from the back deck and starts scratching at the sliding glass door.

  “Beau, why don’t you and Cowboy go out and play with Hawk? Stay on the deck and don’t go down the steps,” Dallas commands.

  “I have a doggie gate out there to keep Hawk from going down them,” Sophie says as Dallas pulls Beau’s mittens onto his hands and wraps a scarf she took from one of her bags around his neck to cover his ears.

  She opens the door, and Beau toddles out after Cowboy.

  “Now, where were we? Oh, yeah. Like I said, Walker’s never kissed my nose,” Dallas says, picking back up on our conversation.

  “Mine either, although when I first got to Poplar Falls, he was awfully flirtatious, and he always seemed to be trying to get me drunk,” Sophie adds.

  “Duh, he was flirting with you, probably to try and get under Braxton’s skin. That boy likes to push his friends’ buttons. It’s part of his charm,” Dallas muses.

  “He’s not bad on the eyes either,” Sonia jumps in.

  “Oh, does someone have a crush on our Walker?” Dallas asks Sonia.

  “No, of course she doesn’t,” I answer for her.

  Dallas cuts her suspicious eyes to me. “No, I don’t think she does, but someone in the room does,” she says pointedly.

  “I do not! It’s Walker,” I say dumbly.

  “And? So?”

  “And he’s Walker. I mean, sure, he’s handsome in a large, rugged, rough-around-the-edges way, but he is a womanizer and he’s too old for me and he drinks too much and he is … I don’t know … a pain in the ass,” I fumble through my reply.

  Dallas gives Sophie a side-eye look and grins.

  “Stop it,” I demand.

  “Okay, so maybe some of that …” She pauses before admitting, “Okay, most of that is true, but he is also loyal, dependable, funny, and protective, and honestly, he doesn’t drink any more than the rest of us. He just doesn’t give a shit what people think, so he hides nothing, which I personally like in a man. Besides, you can call him a womanizer all you want, but I’ve never seen him treat a woman poorly, and he is very up-front about what he wants and what he doesn’t. So, if two consenting adults want to have fun together, that doesn’t make either of them bad,” Dallas defends him.

  “And that man is more than plain old h
andsome. I would climb him like a tree. A big, sexy tree,” Sonia adds.

  “Okay, the tree thing’s weird. And I’m not saying he is bad. I’m just saying, I’m not his type,” I tell them.

  “Hmm, funny how you say you’re not his type instead of the other way around,” Dallas points out.

  I’m getting frustrated with her grilling.

  “Dallas, leave her alone. There is nothing going on with her and Walker. Besides, Braxton would lose his damn mind if he thought there was,” Sophie interjects.

  “Boo. Braxton is such a buzzkill,” Dallas whines.

  “He is not,” Sophie protests.

  “Mommy!”

  We all turn to see Beau standing at the sliding glass door.

  “Look, it’s snowing again.” He points up excitedly.

  Dallas gives him an indulgent smile. “I see, baby. Looks like we might be trick-or-treating in the snow this year.”

  “Yay! We can go sledding too?” he asks.

  “Your daddy and Uncle Payne can take you. Momma has to skip the sledding this year,” she tells him as we all walk out onto the deck to watch the snowfall with him.

  When Dallas reaches Beau, he looks up at her and lays his head on her tummy. “When you come out of there, baby brother, we’ll go sledding,” he says to her bump.

  “It might be a baby sister,” she says as she runs her fingers through his blond locks.

  “That’s okay too. I’ll still teach her how to sled. I’ll just go slower.” He grins up at her. “But I’m not playing Barbies with her. Maci always makes me play Barbies with her at school,” he complains.

  “You play Barbies when she asks? That’s so sweet,” Sonia says.

  He looks over at us and shrugs. “Woman, what are you going to do?”

  We all burst into giggles.

  Dallas looks at us. “This is Payne’s and Walker’s influence. I have got to stop letting him spend so much time with those two.”

  “Wow, it is really coming down out here. I didn’t realize the forecast was calling for so much snow today. I sure hope it doesn’t stop the guys from getting the fence done,” Sophie says.

  “Those boys will work through anything. Last season, they put a new roof on Mrs. Perry’s barn during one of the worst blizzards we’d ever had. It dumped five feet of snow on us, and they kept working until it was done, so her horse and its new foal would be warm. They’ll get the fence up in time,” Dallas tells her.

  “’Cause they are big, bad cowboys,” Beau agrees.

  Sophie looks down at him. “They sure are. Now, since this is the second snow of the year, how about we go in and fetch a pot and catch some, so we can make snow cream after lunch?” she asks him.

  “Yes, please!” he squeals as he takes her hand and leads her through the door to the cabinets.

  “Oh, snow cream! That sounds good. We can top it with the Kahlúa I brought for hot cocoa,” Sonia suggests.

  “Ugh. First, I can’t go sledding, and now, I can’t have boozy snow cream.” Dallas rubs her bump and gripes, “You are spoiling all of Momma’s fun.”

  Elle

  “I can’t believe it’s still snowing. You should probably stay with us tonight,” I tell Sonia as we drive carefully back to Rustic Peak.

  “I think I will. I don’t like driving around in this in the dark.”

  It’s dusk now, and it will be pitch-black shortly.

  “Great. We’ll make cocoa and watch a chick flick with my aunts.”

  “Sounds good to me,” she agrees.

  We pull through the gate and park in front of the house.

  I reach in the backseat and grab my bag. “Are you coming in?” I ask Sonia.

  “Yep, I’m just going to call Ricky and tell him I’m staying, so he can keep my car and pick me up in the morning,” she says as she waves her phone in the air.

  “Okay, see you in a minute.”

  I open the door to exit the truck. I shut the door and make my way around the front of it when I am assaulted by something hard and wet. I let out a surprised yelp as I jump back against the hood and look down at my coat.

  Snowball.

  Another one sails through the air from the side of the house and hits me square in the shoulder. It bursts, and I get a face full of snow.

  Before another one can strike me, I run to Sonia’s side of the truck, pull the door open, and duck behind it. Three snowballs in a row splatter on the window.

  Sonia slides across the seat. “What is happening?” she asks.

  I see Walker’s head dart up from behind the flower box at the corner of the house just long enough for another snowball to be hurled. It hits the top of the window, and the shavings come showering down on my head.

  I turn to Sonia, tears in my eyes because Walker remembered my story, and I manage to squeak out, “Snowball fight. Let’s get them!”

  I tell her where Walker is hiding, and then she slips to the other side and out of the truck. I toss my bag in the passenger seat and peek around the door. I run as fast as I can toward the porch.

  Snowballs are fired from both sides of the house this time, and I see Silas run from the other corner of the house to behind one of the old oak trees.

  I reach down, grab a handful of snow, and shape it into a ball. I stack four as fast as I can, and then I jump down from the left side of the porch and start tossing them one by one in the direction of Walker’s hiding spot.

  He stands up, grins at me, and begins rapidly firing ball after ball. He must have a stockpile back there. I squeal and try to run back to the safety of the porch, but he gives chase. I stop and attempt to grab more snow. I’m laughing so hard that I can barely get the cold air into my lungs.

  I look over, and Sonia is in a showdown with Silas. He is clearly out of ammunition. She is pelting him one after another, right to the kisser. Si is laughing and trying his best to shield his face.

  Walker catches me, and I scream and try to scamper away.

  “Oh no, you don’t. I’ve got you now.” His warm breath is at my ear.

  He picks me up and gently flips me onto my back, laying me out in the snow.

  “You surrender?” he asks with a gleam in his eye.

  I grab a small fist of snow at my side and sling the impacted handful at his face.

  He sputters as snow enters his mouth.

  “No way,” I tell him.

  That’s when he starts to tickle me mercilessly. I’m ridiculously ticklish, and he knows it. Braxton has used it as a weapon against me my entire life.

  I start shrieking and try frantically to get away.

  Sonia hears my distress and takes her attention from Silas to Walker. She comes running toward us, her arms full of snowballs, and she begins raining them on his head as he keeps tickling me.

  The front door flies open, and the porch light blinks on.

  Walker doesn’t flinch; he continues his assault.

  I hear Aunt Ria’s voice above my wheezing laughter.

  “What in the world is going on out here?” she asks.

  “An ambush. They got us with snowballs as we pulled in,” Sonia explains as she reaches down to make more snowballs.

  “Have mercy. I thought you were being attacked out here, Elle,” Aunt Ria exclaims.

  I gather enough wits about me to squeak out, “I am!”

  Sonia gives up on the snowballs and takes a running leap onto Walker’s back, which sends them both toppling over my head. I scramble to my knees, and I join her on top of him. She is trying to hold his arms away, and I attempt to tickle him.

  “Get ’im, Elle,” Sonia breathes as she strains, trying to hold on to his big frame.

  He just grins at me as I run my hands all over him, futilely trying to find his tickle spot.

  He bucks Sonia off his back. Then, he wraps his arms around me in a bear hold and picks me up as he stands. He tosses me over one of his shoulders and slaps my ass.

  “Come on, woman. We are building you a snowman,” he says as I
try to blow the strands of wet hair from my face.

  I look back toward the house and see Aunt Doreen has joined Aunt Ria on the porch. They are watching us retreat with huge smiles on their faces. I’m sure they are getting the wrong idea. Crap.

  Sonia follows after us, as does Silas.

  We build a snowman. And Walker pulls one of Ria’s wooden spoons from behind the flower box and hands it to me. I place it in the center of the top snow mound to use as our snowman’s nose, and Walker wraps a red scarf around its neck.

  We step back to take in our handiwork. It looks just like the one in my photograph.

  “What do you think?” Walker asks from behind me.

  “I think it’s perfect,” I manage.

  He nudges me forward. “You girls get over there. I’ll take a picture with my phone,” he says.

  Sonia and I put our arms around our creation and grin at Walker.

  “Give me that,” Sonia demands as she pushes Walker and Silas in front of the snowman too.

  She adjusts the camera on the phone to selfie mode and reaches her arm out as far as she can to capture us all as we make stupid faces.

  She hands it back to Walker.

  “You’ll text me those, right?” I ask him.

  “Maybe,” he replies as he slips the phone into his back pocket.

  I put my hands on my hips and glare at him. “What do you mean, maybe?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “So, what’s it going to take to get a definitely out of you?” I ask.

  He twists his mouth like he’s thinking.

  This should be good.

  “Am I forgiven?” he asks.

  “I’m not sure. Today, you treated me like Braxton does. I can take the overreacting big-brother act from him but not you. I’m not a child. I’m a grown woman,” I tell him.

  “I’ve noticed,” he says as his eyes sweep me from top to bottom, and I feel his words all the way to my toes. “But I’m always going to be a stubborn asshole, sweetheart. That’s just who I am. You have to accept that too. Now, let’s call a truce. Say you forgive me, and I’ll send the photos to you right now,” he says.

  “That’s not fair,” I complain.

  “I never said I fight fair, sweetheart,” he admits.