by K. C. Crowne
What made an impression on me was how they carried themselves with strength, taking slow, sauntering steps as if they weren’t worried about a thing in the world.
That and the fact they were both hot-beyond-compare.
Even so, there was still something distinct about that picture of Christopher’s dad.
I couldn’t put my finger on it but, whatever it was, it tugged at me, and made me want to put the image out of my head.
“Howdy,” the first man mumbled.
“This is my uncle, Wyatt,” Christopher introduced. “And the man coming up behind him is Uncle Travis.”
Travis tipped his hat to me.
“You must be Molly,” Travis said, giving my hand a firm shake. “It’s about time Christopher bought a girl home. Must be pretty serious for him to come all this way.”
“Dad summoned me,” Christopher muttered.
Travis and Wyatt chuckled and slapped him on the back, one after the other. Though Christopher was not small by any stretch, his body shook with the force of their blows on his back.
Three others stepped out of the house - one man who was accompanied by a younger woman and an older woman, whom I presumed to be Christopher’s grandma. She was the matriarch of the family and one of the few people he was looking forward to seeing again.
“That’s Chance,” Christopher said. “My dad’s youngest brother. And that’s my aunt, Emily. As you can tell, we’re pretty close in age. And with them is—”
Before he could finish, the older woman said, “Everyone just calls me ‘Mama G’ – you go ahead and do the same, my dear.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mama G,” I said, offering my hand to her first. She seemed pleased and offered me a firm shake in return. I was stunned by the sturdy grip in the petite older woman’s greeting.
“Your dad is around here… somewhere,” Mama G said to Christopher.
I started to feel those pesky butterflies in my stomach again.
“You’re earlier than expected, and he wanted to fix something in the stables before you arrived.”
“Oh...it’s fine,” Christopher said dryly, brushing it off. “We’ll see him eventually I guess.”
“Oh yes, of course.” Mama G offered a friendly smile with a look of reassurance to her grandson. She had to have known about the friction between them.
Mama G was nearing seventy, but you wouldn’t have guessed it. She looked tiny next to her giant sons. She was even smaller than me, and I was rather petite at around 5’4”. My guess was Mama G had to be around five feet even, if that. How she managed to have giants for sons was beyond me and God bless her for carrying each one of them for nine months at a time with her small frame.
“Can we get some help with the luggage?” Christopher asked, pointing toward the car.
“Sure thing,” Wyatt said.
All three of them followed us to the car. Christopher opened the trunk of the car just as someone behind us let out a snort. “Are you stayin’ for a week or moving in?”
As I turned around, I saw that my instincts were right and it was Christopher’s father in the flesh.
My heart jumped into my throat.
The oldest of the Walker men, Silas. The man was no doubt the same one in the picture, and somehow managed to be even hotter in person.
Looking at him for the first time in person, my cheeks started to feel warm and I was losing confidence in my ability to stand up right.
I couldn’t help but scan his features all over again. He had the same chiselled features as Christopher and dark, mysterious eyes. He looked like an older, more rugged version of my closest friend.
If anyone thought the others were handsome, well, Christopher’s dad took the cake.
He was tall, a shearling jacket over his wide, V-shaped upper body, a white T-shirt on underneath with the hint of solid pecs peeking out from the top.
And his face… so freaking handsome.
He had those same steely eyes, that wide jaw.
He was all man, through and through.
Reminding me of one of those Marlboro cowboys from those old ads, the kind who’d be gazing off into the sunset – except without the gross cigarette.
My pussy clenched at the sight of him, my eyes going down to his big, strong hands as I wondered what it’d be like to have him put them all over my body.
In person, I could make out that his face wasn’t baby smooth like his son’s. He had a trimmed, dark beard with greys sprinkled throughout. His hair was cut short, close to his head, and the same dark brown as Christopher’s but with greys there as well.
His eyes met mine, and I felt as though my heart stopped. I dropped the bag I’d lifted from the trunk.
Smooth. Just smooth.
“Hi, Dad,” Christopher said, rolling his eyes my direction so only I could see him. The gesture was a little much, but I didn’t say anything.
His father stepped closer to us and stopped, never taking his eyes off me. “Welcome home, son.”
He then proceeded to pick up the bag I’d dropped like a fool.
“Sorry. Molly, this is my dad. Dad, this is Molly.”
“Call me Silas,” his father offered, his voiced moved through me in a way I shouldn’t have enjoyed, but I did. It was like it was deep and bass-filled enough that I could feel it in my bones.
And there was something powerful and intimidating about him, a strength he projected without even having to try.
I’d never been the type of girl to blush, but I was helpless standing there before him and looking back into his deep eyes, I was helpless.
I’d hoped he hadn’t notice the rush of warm hue to my cheeks.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Walker.”
“Ma’am, its Silas. My dad was Mr. Walker,” he said, his voice feeling like it could shake the earth at our feet. He offered the slightest hint of a grin.
“Sorry. Silas.”
I’d never had any trouble speaking before, but my voice seemed to catch in my throat and my words came out like croaks. I cleared my throat, hoping that would help.
“I’m pleased to finally meet you. Christopher rarely has many words to share, unless it has to do with you,” Silas said, with a sexy chuckle.
“Thank you,” I said, not sure if I actually said the words or merely whispered them into the air.
Or in my damn head.
To avoid standing there looking like a complete and total fool, I reached into the trunk and grabbed the only bag left - my makeup case.
“Aren’t you going to help her, kid?”
“Sorry,” Christopher said, his arms already full with his own bags.
“It’s fine. I’ve got this,” I said,
Silas sighed and extended his arm towards me.
“Please, I’ve got it. No woman will carry her own bags while I’m around.”
Damn that was hot.
I couldn’t help but appreciate my best friend dad’s southern chivalry.
Still, I felt like a complete asshole for checking him out.
Bags in hand, Silas turned and headed back toward the house.
His ass in those jeans was something dreams were made of. I had to check to make sure I wasn’t drooling.
Cowboy… take me awayyyy. The damn song played in my head again– and at this point I had no doubt it would be playing on repeat.
“Molly, you coming?” Christopher asked, taking me out of my reverie.
“On my way,” I stammered, hurrying to follow him.
He gave me an odd look as I joined him at his side, walking into the house. The inside was just as impressive as the outside, if not more so.
There was a spiral staircase that looked like something from a southern plantation. We walked up those stairs, following Silas and his brothers.
I was practically too distracted by the view of Silas walking to notice the backdrop but somehow managed to take in both exquisite views.
We reached the second floor that had a hallway wi
th so many rooms it almost felt like a maze leading to Christopher’s old bedroom. The house was something else. We were in a Texas log cabin, sure, but on the inside, it felt more like something out of antebellum South Carolina.
Gorgeous, patterned wallpaper was on both sides of us, paintings of landscapes here and there in the halls. And the house had a handmade feel to it, like it’d been built by someone with love, someone who really cared about making a home.
I’d gotten so used to ultra-modern condos in New York built for anonymous rich folk that I’d almost forgotten people used to construct homes themselves, with their families in mind.
“You two can stay here,” Mama G said, smiling sweetly. I had no idea she was still behind us, that she’d made the trek up the stairs.
“Thank you,” I said, even though it hadn’t been necessary.
Silas opened the door and we all stepped inside. And I was just amazed that we could all fit into one bedroom.
But we did.
Quite comfortably.
“This room is bigger than our apartment, I swear,” I said, taken by surprise.
“Sure does,” Christopher grumbled. “Thanks guys. We’d like a chance to relax a bit, if that’s okay? It’s been a long trip.”
“Of course,” Mama G said, taking Silas’ arm. The other brothers had already put the bags down and shuffled into the hallway, but Silas seemed to be standing there in protest. He had warmth to his eyes as he looked at Christopher.
Something told me he missed his son deeply, but struggled to say the right words.
“Dinner will be ready in an hour, Christopher. Can you please let our guest know how everything works?”
“How everything works?” I asked, confused.
“Mama G rings a bell when dinner’s ready,” Christopher told me. “We all eat together. It’s kind of a thing around here.”
I smiled brightly at her and said, “I’m looking forward to it.”
Mama G gave me a wink, and then proceeded to pulled Silas from the room, shutting the door behind them and leaving me alone with Christopher.
“Finally,” he said, collapsing on the bed. “I thought they’d never leave.”
“They seem nice,” I said. “Your grandmother is super sweet and…”
“And my dad’s uptight, right?”
“Well, I don’t know him enough to say but I can feel the tension between you two. And I guess he has a bit of a straight forward side to him.”
I didn’t mention how I could get over his rough side, on account of how his ass fit in those jeans. If I was honest, I was surprisingly intrigued by his dad’s personality. It was hot to see a man take control like that. And coming from an independent city girl that was saying a lot.
I kept my mouth shut because mentioning all that wasn’t quite appropriate in that very moment.
I sat down on the bed beside Christopher. “Just so you know, I’m a bit of a bed hog.”
“I know, I’ve seen you in your bed,” he said. “I never knew such a small girl could take up so much room until I met you.”
I punched his arm playfully. “Hey, now…”
He rolled over and pulled out his phone. A smile spread across his face, then he began typing away.
I rolled over with him, lying beside him. “What’s with the grin?”
“Remember I told you about that guy Tyler I went to high school with?”
“Yeah, that gorgeous football player who came out only after you left town. Why?”
“He wants to get together. Like meet up for a drink.”
“Oh wow, when?” I asked, intrigued.
“Tonight. But…no, I can’t leave you here with my family alone.”
“Go, Christopher,” I urged. “You always talked about how he was your dream guy. Maybe this is your chance.”
“Really? You think I should?” I could tell he was conflicted. Christopher could be a little self-centered at times, but even he was aware enough to see that leaving me with his family after just meeting them all at once might’ve put me in an awkward spot.
“I do,” I said, nodding emphatically.
“It would be after dinner, after everyone is in bed, so I guess you’d be okay up here?”
“Of course,” I assured him. “I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself.”
“My family can’t see me leave,” he mused.
“I know, I know…they would ask too many questions, and I’m supposed to be your girlfriend. Don’t worry about it, I’ll cover for you if they ask.”
“Thank you, Molly. Have I told you lately that you’re the best faux girlfriend a guy could ask for?”
“Why thank you,” I said, laughing.
Christopher was my best friend. No one understood me like he did, and I’d do anything for him. Including helping him hook up with his high school dream guy.
After all, his tales of sexy times were the closest I could get to getting lucky myself.
A virgin’s got to do what a virgin’s got to do.
But who knew, maybe by some wild turn of events, I could leave this ranch a whole new woman. As absurd as that was, I couldn’t help but imagine the possibilities.
Silas
Dammit. I was nervous as hell.
It’d been a long time since Christopher last joined us for a sit-down family meal. Even when he’d lived here, he’d often avoided the dinner table, taking his food to his room instead.
Mama G rang the bell, signalling time for dinner.
When I entered the room, I was surprised to see my son already seated at the table.
Christopher. God, it was good to see the boy back home. But I could tell right away that my warm feelings hadn’t exactly been reciprocated.
I couldn’t blame him, really. My relationship with my boy had been strained, to say the least. First of all, I hadn’t even known I’d had a kid until well into his young life. He’d been the result of an ill-advised fling I’d had with a woman in town, and by the time she’d realized she was pregnant, I was already gone off to the military.
Why she’d kept it a secret, I had no idea. But didn’t find out about him until I’d finished my two tours overseas, Christopher already a few years old at the time. I remembered how furious I’d been at the idea of missing so much time in my son’s life. Not to mention instead of having years to figure out what kind of dad I wanted to be, I had to sort it out all at once.
My own dad, well, he’d been a tough man. He loved us all deeply, but it was hard to see sometimes. I’d always vowed that when I had kids of my own I’d be less like that, more expressive with how much I cared about them. But when rubber hit the road, I unconsciously went back into my internal programming from growing up the way I had.
He’d been a good kid, but that didn’t mean he didn’t act out from time to time. As much as I tried to have a soft touch, I’d find my dad coming out more often than I wished for, that tough, authoritarian way of rearing kids.
I loved the boy to death, but now that he was a man all I could think about were those years I’d missed. Sometimes I got the impression he still had a grudge against me for not being there.
Molly was beside him, bringing my attention back to the moment. And it was all I could do to keep my eyes off her. She seemed to be good for him, but something about them didn’t sit right with me. The connection they seemed to share was more of a friendship than anything romantic. That much I was certain.
A good woman could do wonders for a man, I had no doubt.
But I also knew that she wasn’t his woman. He was bullshitting me when he’d said he had a girlfriend. He might not realize it, but I knew my own kid better than that. I might have been absent for most of his childhood, but I knew my son - and I knew he didn’t like women.
Why he kept up the facade was beyond me. I loved my boy no matter what. But I also knew these kinds of things weren’t easy to discuss especially in our neck of the woods.
Truth was, I didn’t give a damn what anyone else thought
about my boy. I loved him all the same.
I thought asking him to bring her out here, offering to pay for the trip, would force him to admit the white lie.
But I was wrong and here we were, playing some kind of game.
Little did the poor kid know, I was already three moves ahead of him.
I took my seat across from Christopher and Molly at the big dining table. We all had our seats, the same seats we’d had since we were young boys. Dad’s seat at the end remained empty long after his death, directly across from my mother.
The table we surrounded was the same one we’d grow up sitting at - one my father made from a tree he cut himself. Almost everything in the house had been touched by him. We’d all helped build the home. That’s just the type of family we were. Mama G had wanted herself a log cabin home in the plains big enough to house all her kids and grandkids, so that’s what she got.
My brothers and I all lived in the main house still, even though there were smaller cabins on the property designated for us once we had families of our own. So far, only my sister Emily and her husband Logan had moved out of the main house and into their own space.
Even though I was a grown man, I still liked the closeness of the main house. All I did was work and sleep so that little time I got to spend with my brothers and our sweet Mama G was real treasure.
Christopher didn’t even look at me when I sat down, but Molly did. I noticed the pink in her otherwise pale cheeks.
Damn, is she blushing?
She liked to dress the part of a city woman - her designer slacks and silk blouses seemed perfectly tailored for her curvy figure. Her sharp outfit put her in total contrast to a table of rugged types in jeans and T-shirts and flannel.
Her light blonde hair was cut in a stylish long bob, falling over her shoulders in soft waves.
I’d even bet she was a natural blonde too.
Either that or it was a damn good dye job, but she had the complexion for it.
Her blue eyes were the largest features on her face - she tried her best to look like a sophisticated woman, and she did, but those eyes made her look sweet and innocent and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about that.