Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Walker
We step inside after the chores and strip off the winter gear to the soundtrack of Skylar’s teeth chattering.
“I was the same way my first winter here. It took me a couple years to acclimate. I still get sick of the snow, but experiencing the other three seasons is worth the few months it’s like this. You should see the color change in the fall. It’s like straight out of a magazine.”
“You love it here,” she says.
“Did you think I’d stay somewhere I hated just so I didn’t have to go back to Bakersfield?”
“No, that’s not it.” She wraps her arms around herself as I wait for her to explain. After a minute of awkward silence, I give her an out because I’m not ready to reveal my speculations about her life since I’ve been gone, so I can’t expect her to.
“You’re a popsicle. You need a hot shower,” I say. “Leave all this shit on the ground. I’ll take care of it later.”
“No, I can help?—”
“Skylar, leave it. You’re not used to the weather, and it’s the second time you’ve been out in it today. You need to warm up.” Without any thought, I take her hand. I immediately realize my mistake, but she doesn’t even flinch, so I don’t release her. For all my bravado back at the grocery store, I sure am letting my guard down quickly. But her dainty hand feels so good in mine, I can’t seem to let go. “Come on. You can shower in my bathroom since it’s been renovated. I’m still working on the other two.”
“Two?” she asks, and I realize I haven’t given her a tour.
“I guess if you’re gonna be snowed in here, you should know where everything is. Sprocket, wait.” My best friend lies down and huffs, not happy to be left behind.
“That’s a cute name.”
“I can’t take credit for it. He came to me already named from the rescue.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. His previous family relinquished ownership because he had too much energy. I have all this land for a dog to roam, so it worked out.”
“It’s so weird to see you with all these animals. You never even had a fish growing up.”
“Mom and I lived in apartments and couldn’t afford to feed an animal, let alone swing a pet deposit. Then we moved in with Von, and he’s apparently allergic.” I lead her past the kitchen and living room, since she has already seen them, and take her to the back rooms.
“How are your mom and Von?”
“They were good last I heard. But Mom only calls at Christmas, so who knows.” Thankfully, we come to the first bedroom, so I can change the subject, but unfortunately, I have to release her hand so she can step inside. “This is my game room, I guess. It’s where my friends and I play poker sometimes. My video games are in here too.”
She steps inside, looking fucking adorable in just a pair of my gray long johns. They’re obviously too big, but since they’re meant to be snug on me, they don’t drown her the way my sweats do.
“I love all the windows and access to the outside this place has,” she says, walking over to the glass door to the backyard. Even with the upper deck shielding the area from the snow, the wind has blown around a few inches that has gathered along the bottom.
“It’s the main reason I bought it.” I tuck my hands in my pockets. “That and the seclusion.”
“You said you’ve been renovating?”
“When I have time.” I give her a jerk of my chin. “Let me show you the rest.”
The rest of the lower level consists of a workout room, a bathroom, and more uninteresting spaces like the garage and closets. Despite it being nothing truly special, she acts like owning this place is something incredible that I should be proud of. I shouldn’t give a damn what she thinks, but my chest puffs up at her praise. She’s the only one who truly knows how far I’ve come.
When we start to ascend the stairs, I get nervous for the first time. The lower level is average and normal, but I spend a lot of time up here in the winter, so I wanted it to be more personal.
The stairs lead right to the loft library. It’s painted blue-gray and has built-in bookcases on either side of the dormer window that lets in a lot of natural light. Given the barnyard-style roof, I could only hang paintings on the lower half of the walls, but I think it looks cool that way. In the middle of the room are two oversized brown leather chairs that face each other, with a coffee table in between and an antler chandelier that plays into the rustic vibe.
“Wow! This is amazing, Walker.” She traces a finger along the middle shelves of books. “Let me guess: nonfiction?”
“If it didn’t happen in real life, I don’t want to read it.”
She rolls her eyes but smiles wide. “How’d I know?”
“Some things never change.” I point to the room on the left. “I haven’t done anything to that room yet, so I’m just storing shit in there.”
“Can I look?”
“Go for it.”
She opens the door and stops short. “A nursery?”
“That’s just what the previous owners used it for.” I scratch the back of my neck, feeling uncomfortable for reasons I don’t want to think about. I tell myself I haven’t painted over the mural of puppies at play on the far wall and the vibrant blue color on the other three because I hardly go in there, but the truth is, I think it’s cute and thought maybe someday, I’d have a kid to put in there. The problem is, I’ve long since given up on loving anyone except the woman in front of me. Since we didn’t work out and I’m not desperate enough to settle for someone I just like, it seems that’ll never happen.
“It’s sweet. Who knows? Maybe a baby Walker will want it like this someday.”
I bark out a laugh. “Yeah, not happening.”
“Why not? You’d make adorable babies.”
We’re walking a tight wire, and it feels like she’s baiting me. “Apparently, I’m in the process of a divorce. Not the time to bring a child into the world.”
Her smile dims but doesn’t disappear. “Are you trying to say you have no prospects?”
“I’m not dating anyone if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Oh.” She looks way too pleased at that information.
Deciding I should change the subject, I motion to the room at the other end of the hall. “That’s my room. I’ll find something warm for you to wear and let you shower.”
“Okay.” She follows me into the primary painted the same blue-gray as the library. Unlike the library, though, I had the dormers removed and added windows from the ceiling to the floor, following the angle of the roof. My king-sized bed sits opposite the windows for the perfect angle to star gaze, and instead of a headboard, I lined the whole wall with planks of wood from downed trees on my property.
There are two gold sconces above each of the nightstands, and my bedding is cream-colored with brown accents. Finally, adjacent to the bed is a fireplace because even with the heat rising from below, it gets chilly up here.
“Did you decorate on your own?” she asks.
“Not exactly. I found some pictures online and tried to copy them as closely as I could.”
“You did a really good job. And this view is incredible.” She folds her arms, standing in front of the window, where she can see the drop-off and more of the mountain range.
“I couldn’t not buy the place after seeing that.”
“I don’t blame you.”
In another world, I’d approach her from behind, wrap my arms around her, and admire the falling snow before I take her to our bed and make love to her, surrounded by the peace winter brings. My cock likes that idea, so before I play out that fantasy in my head and get a hard-on, I turn away to find her some clothes in my closet.
Once I’ve dug out my smallest sweatpants and an old T-shirt, I show her the bathroom, where she proceeds to lose her shit. In front of a dormer is a bathtub I almost didn’t bother installing. I’m not a bath person, so it felt like a waste, but my friends informed me that if I ever brought a girl home I didn’t want to leave, the tub would seal the deal for me.
They were wrong because the woman I don’t want to leave is here to break the last tie we share before walking away forever.
“Shower or bath?” I ask.
“Um, bath then shower? Is that okay? It feels weird to take over your house like this.”
“My house is your house.” I try to sound hospitable instead of desperate for her to take me up on that offer, and I hate myself for it. The backbone I had earlier has turned into a limp noodle.
“Okay. Then yes, a bath before a shower.”
“The shower is all electronic, so let me show you how it works.”
“Fancy.”
She moves in close, and a world of memories hits me the second I breathe her in. It’s not a lotion or perfume I smell; it’s something intrinsically her. Fuck, this is bad. I shouldn’t have brought her up here because now, my peaceful escape will feel empty when she leaves.
I hold my breath as I show her what buttons to push, and then I all but hightail it out the bathroom door. “There are fresh towels in that cabinet. Feel free to use whatever’s in there. It all smells like man.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem. Should we try that soup again for dinner since we didn’t eat it for lunch?”
“Sure, but after that, we need to talk. Like, really talk.”
“Okay.” I leave her to it and head downstairs to hang all the wet shit, pausing when the old pipes creak the second Skylar turns on the water to fill the tub. Immediately, my mind goes to what she’s doing up there. She’s probably stripping down right this second and lowering herself into the water, where she’ll get all slippery and wet.
My cleaning lady, Rose, who I only employ during my working months, helped me decorate the bathroom. She insisted I needed these decorative jars of bubble bath, colorful salts, and bath bombs—whatever the hell those are. They’ve sat unused this whole time, but now, I wonder if Skylar’s soaking in them.
She’d look so sexy climbing out of that tub with bubbles stuck to her naked body. From what little I’ve seen, she has changed since I saw her last, and it’s all for the better. She was hot at twenty-one, but now, she’s luscious. There’s more meat on her bones, making her curves more pronounced. I’ll be using the image of her in her black panties and bra as spank bank material for a long time to come.
“Fuck!” I curse when my cock grows painfully hard. Sprocket rushes over, as if to ask if I’m okay. I huff. “Just be glad you got your potatoes whacked off and won’t ever have to know the pain of blue balls.”
He stares at me quizzically as I scrub a hand down my face. I can’t do this. I can’t be snowed in with her. If the emotional pain doesn’t kill me, surely, the inability to act on my sexual desires will. Pulling my cell out of my back pocket, I dial up Wilder.
“Hey, how’s it going?” he answers.
“So, I’m married,” I say without preamble.
“Your wife told us.”
“Are you the reason she’s showering in my bathroom right now?”
“I might’ve had something to do with that, but in my defense, I told her it was a bad idea.”
“Yeah, well, she didn’t listen. Her car crashed halfway up the mountain, and now, she’s stuck here for who knows how long.”
“When did you get married? And why didn’t you tell any of us?”
“This is going to sound corny as fuck, but I fell in love when I was a freshman in high school. We dated all the way until I was a senior in college. Actually, I only had one semester left before graduation. If you can believe it, I was studying to be an accountant. And not even the spicy kind. The boring kind.”
“Honestly, that tracks.”
“Yeah, well, I wanted to be able to give Skylar a normal life, since neither of us had that growing up. The problem was, her family sucks.”
“Are they Jehovah's Witnesses? I heard they’re kind of a buzz kill.”
“What? No.” I narrow my brows and shake my head. “They’re bikers, like Sons of Anarchy , only in real life. Her dad’s the president. He’s this big, scary-looking motherfucker?—”
“You’re a big, scary motherfucker.” Out of all my friends, I’m the tallest and most outwardly muscular, since I deal with my stress by bench pressing heavy things.
“I wasn’t back then; I was skinny, and life hadn’t punched me in the balls yet, so I was generally happy.”
“I can’t picture that either.”
“Fuck off.”
His friend chuckles but, thankfully, moves on. “Okay, so her dad’s an outlaw biker. What does that have to do with you?”
“He’ll only allow his daughter to marry someone if they’re part of the club.”
“Hold on. Time out. What do you mean ‘allow,’ and why didn’t you just join the club?”
“They are the most sexist wastes of space ever. The women have no rights and are only there to cook, clean, and spread their legs. Not my words, his,” I say, remembering the one and only conversation I had with the man. “But despite how much I hated everything they stood for, I loved her and would’ve prospected in a heartbeat. I would’ve done anything if it meant I got to wake up to her every morning.”
“I had no idea you were such a sap.”
“Not anymore. Not after waking up the morning after we got married to a fucking text message telling me she dipped.”
“Shit, man. I wish this wasn’t the first time you were telling me this because you need advice because my mind can’t get over the whole MC thing.”
I listen for the shower, but as far as I can tell, she’s still in the bath. “Catch up, asshole, because now she’s here, snowed in with me, and demanding a divorce because she’s getting married to someone else.”
“So? Sign the papers, and once the snow stops, get her the fuck off your hill.”
That’s the inevitable outcome, but something in me will always hold out hope for us. On the phone earlier, she said she felt like I was still hers in some way, and I feel the same. It has been fifteen years, and we’ve both created separate lives and haven’t so much as sent a carrier pigeon to the other, but until that certificate I’ve buried in my safe is void, Skylar is mine.
Wilder comes to his own conclusion when he hears my hesitation. “You still love her.”
“I don’t even know her. It’s been over a decade,” I argue.
“Doesn’t matter. If you didn’t love her, we wouldn’t be talking because you would’ve scribbled your dumbass name on the dotted line the second she handed over the papers.”
“I don’t have a dumbass name.” It’s the only part of that statement I can honestly argue with.
“They both end in an er sound. That’s dumb.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is.”
I run a hand through my hair, more annoyed than I was when I first called him. “You know what? Never mind. I’ll call Ridge instead.”
“What? No way. We both know he gives shitty advice.”
“He’s an artist. That automatically makes him more emotionally mature,” I say.
“I got this. Just give me a second.” Our friend group is competitive to a fault, and if I don’t let Wilder give me advice, that would mean he loses, and none of us like to lose.
“Fine. What do you got for me?”
He blows out a breath as he thinks, then gasps a little when whatever bonehead advice he comes up with pops into his head. “I think you gotta spend this time with her, see if what you had back then is still there. If it is, you gotta fight for her, bro. You’ve clearly been hanging on to her because she was something special to you, and if that’s still true, you gotta fight.”
My brows pinch together. “Damn, that’s actually good. You thought of that on your own? Or did you Google that shit?”
“Fuck no. That came straight from the heart,” he says, sounding way too pleased with himself.
The pipes bang, letting me know she moved from the tub to the shower, and I still haven’t put the soup on or finished picking up. “I gotta go. Thanks, though. I think you’re right. I’ll put off signing the papers until I’m sure I won’t regret it.”
“Good man.”
“Talk to you later.”
He stops me before I can hang up. “Hey, if she sticks around, you should bring her by. I’d like to get to know the woman who has the unflappable Walker all up in knots.”
“Fuck no. Your ugly ass will scare her away.” I hang up on him and get back to work. Suddenly, I’m feeling some pressure to impress Skylar, to show her I’m still the guy she fell in love with all those years ago.