CHAPTER 26
Walker
April
RAYNA: Don’t forget book club is Monday! We loved having you when you came, Eli and Walker. Since it’s finally April, we are switching over to our spring reads! If you want to come back, make sure you read Her Secret Garden. Promise there’s no aliens this week.
BABS: But there is lots of sex! I’ve got a new toy to share. Hint: It looks like a rose bud so we’re staying on theme.
FLETCHER: Ladies, this is what we talked about at the town meeting. Please. I can’t keep getting calls about this.
ELI: I’ll be there! Let me know what I can bring.
ROSIE: Brown noser!
RAYNA: Walker?
* * *
The strong scent of vanilla, sugar, and something else—possibly blueberries—assaults me as soon as I walk through the door.
For the last week, the house has smelled more like a bakery than a farm.
I wake every morning to find muffins with dark chocolate and bananas in them, rhubarb French toast, and pancakes with a caramel nut glaze laid out in the kitchen.
In the afternoons, there is zucchini bread, glazed lemon blueberry scones, and strawberry cupcakes.
I’m going to gain ten pounds if Tally doesn’t leave soon. But at least she hasn’t tried to talk to me about the kiss.
She still has me on edge most of the time.
On Tuesday, she sat me down and asked for a list of things she could do to help on the farm.
She didn’t even bat an eye when I gave her the worst chores.
Not because I was being an ass—okay, I was sort of being an ass because I was trying to create some distance—but because it’s stuff I don’t think she can fuck up and I have some big jobs to be getting on with.
Then her eyes filled with fire as she watched me eat her treats. God forbid I’d told her what a good girl I think she’s been. I’m pretty sure she would have spread her legs for me right there.
Fuck. It’s only Friday. How am I going to make it through the Daffodil Festival this weekend with her everywhere? More importantly, it’s only the first of April. How the fuck am I going to make it through May without giving in to her?
I run my hand down my face when she calls from somewhere within the house.
“Cowboy?”
Yup, she’s still calling me that.
“That’s me.”
And I’m answering to it. I’m so fucking screwed.
“Wait until you see what I made tonight.”
I suck in a lungful of air, trying to temper my excitement. I won’t get myself all worked up like a damn puppy jumping at her feet.
“Just going to shower,” I say. “I’ll be down in a few.”
I head for the stairs, knowing I’m going to need to jerk off before I see her.
“Don’t be too long,” Tally calls back. Then her voice seems closer. “Dinner’s ready.”
I’ve made it up only one step when I make the error of turning around and looking at her.
She’s leaning against the doorframe, a kitchen towel over one shoulder, her wild hair up in a high ponytail with wisps escaping and framing her pretty face.
Her arms are folded across her chest, highlighting the swells of her breasts, which spill out of the low-cut pastel pink spandex she’s wearing tonight.
“Where’s your mother?” The words come out scratchy, growled with a desperation I feel in the depths of my soul. Her mother needs to be here. I can’t sit across from her, or God forbid next to her, and keep my hands to myself.
Since the kiss, I’ve managed to keep my distance. But a man is only so strong. Especially when she’s looking at me with pouty lips that I just want to suck on. Lips that I know taste sweeter than any of the desserts she’s fed me.
“Out with the Liberty Ladies. They’re celebrating the start of the Daffodil Festival early.” Tally raises her brows. “So it’s just us tonight.”
Fucking fabulous. To avoid giving in to my desires, I double-time it into my bedroom to undress. Within seconds, I’ve got her sweet floral shampoo soaping up my dick as I work myself, hoping like hell this will hold me over until I get into bed tonight.
When I finally make it back to the kitchen, Tally has dinner set at the kitchen counter and she’s got an already open beer in front of my seat.
“This looks good,” I say as I pull out my stool and set my eyes on the fried chicken she’s got covered in some sauce.
Tally hums. “Thanks, trying a new recipe.”
I keep pushing closer to the wall until I’m up against it with nowhere to move, and she keeps shifting closer to talk to me as we eat. If I don’t keep shoveling food into my mouth, I’ll grab her and do ungodly things to her on this counter.
She fills me in on her day, giving me a list of five more desserts she plans to make this week, which all sound mouth-wateringly delicious.
Then she asks about my day; about Quinn’s baseball game the night before and whether I think my sister would ever want to leave Quinn with her so she could have some alone time and go out.
“If Billie is leaving Quinn with anyone, it’s with me,” I say in response, to which she suggests we could babysit him together.
“Maybe after the Hall event,” I tell her, reminding her of why she’s here. “There’s only so much time to get the cottages ready.”
The Hall event is going to bring in a good amount of money, but since it’s so last-minute, the wedding party couldn’t find a hotel close enough that had availability.
Tally had the genius idea of telling them we had cottages they could stay in.
Although it saved the event, I’ll be busting my ass ’til the very last minute to get those cottages fixed up.
I’m having to dip into Frank’s loan to pay for the renovations.
The furniture could easily be sanded and stained, but all the rooms need new mattresses and bedding, which aren’t cheap.
Though, for the price the Halls are willing to pay to rent out the farm for the weekend, it will be well worth it in the end.
Especially if they tell their very well-off friends.
We could use a few more high-end events in the calendar and then we might actually have a shot at making it through this season without having to sell some of the land.
“About that,” Tally starts, cutting through my thoughts.
It’s clear from her voice that she’s nervous and priming me for something I’m not going to like.
“Ruby Simmons says her husband’s looking for work. She said he could help get the cottages ready.”
“And where exactly do you think we’d get the money to pay him?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I could try selling some of my desserts at the farmers market. And the Daffodil Festival.”
I hate how hopeful she sounds. It’s naive as hell to believe that some desserts could cover the cost of a contractor.
“Have you been baking all week just so you could pitch this to me?”
The girl would be terrible at poker. It’s written all over her face: the light sheen of sweat and the flush of her cheeks that come with the surprise that I caught on so quickly. “No.”
For the first time since I met her, Tally reminds me of my ex-girlfriend Gina, and lead settles in my stomach. Gina was conniving. She’d do things with a purpose. And the purpose was always to get her way.
Offering to take my sister prom dress shopping, only so she could send me pictures of herself in a wedding dress.
Cleaning every room in our tiny little apartment—that she didn’t live in—just so she could point out that Billie wasn’t doing her fair share and it was time my sister got a college dorm.
After Quinn was born and I told Gina I planned to help take care of the him, and that my sister wouldn’t be moving out anytime soon, Gina’s true colors shown through and I finally realized that everything she had ever done had been so she could get her way.
She didn’t really care about me or my sister.
She was only interested in setting up her own future.
I don’t like the way my body buzzes right now, alerting me to someone else bullshitting me.
“Tally.” I grunt and stare down at my damn plate. I take a deep breath and then glare at her.
She sighs and her face scrunches up in annoyance. “I’m trying to help.”
“You’re trying to con me into getting your way.” I throw down my napkin, annoyed.
I don’t even know why I’m so irritated. There’s this small part of me—an embarrassing part—that felt special because Tally was making all these treats for me. Just like I used to feel special when Gina would do ridiculous things to get my attention.
“It’s a good idea, Walker.” The use of my name instead of “Cowboy” tells me she’s pissed. “This farm means everything to me, and I know everyone thinks that because I left, I didn’t care. But it’s because I cared that I left.”
A headache blooms between my eyes. “What do you mean?”
She huffs and pushes to stand. “Forget it. I don’t even know why I try. No one expects anything from me, so maybe I should just prove you all right and give up.”
The way she speaks, the dejected tone of her voice, has me reaching for her. My fingers snag on her wrist, and I tug. “Tally, wait.”
When she turns her head, her eyes cutting to wear I’m gripping her, it’s clear she’s not looking at me. But that doesn’t stop me from noticing the sheen of tears in her eyes. A wave of regret rolls through me.
“Tally.” Desperation attaches to her name as a teardrop rolls down her cheek.
Her lashes flutter and lift open as I reach for her chin.
With the gentlest touch, I tilt her face so she’s looking right at me.
I’ve got to make this right. To apologize.
But fuck, the moment I’ve got her chin in my hand, her attention on me, those gorgeous eyes of hers filling with the same desperation I feel whenever I look at her, I forget my damn words.
Tally trails her tongue across her bottom lip so slowly I don’t think she even knows she’s doing it. My heart pounds, and I tug on her wrist to pull her closer right as she leans in.
And then I remember why we shouldn’t be doing this. She’s my employee. She’s too young. She’s Peter’s daughter.
And she’ll hate me when she finds out what’s really going on with the farm.
When I don’t take that infinitesimal step closer and simply stare at her, Tally’s lips fall open in an O.
“I’m sorry.” I blow out a breath as I look at her damn lips again. “I like you, Tally. I like you so fucking much, but I’m no good at any of this.”
Her eyes soften and she stares at me, almost defiantly. “I like you, too.”
I shake my head because she doesn’t get it. “I’ve been burned pretty badly. So I don’t do this. My ex—I thought she loved me, but she turned out to be someone I couldn’t trust.”
She blows out a breath. “I’m not good with words, either. I don’t exactly have a great track record since I got here, so I was just trying to show you my idea could work rather than tell you. I should have just told you what I was thinking. I’m sorry if you thought I was scheming.”
I know that. Fuck, I know she’s nothing like Gina. Which makes all of this so damn hard because I still can’t have her. “This still can’t happen.”
She rolls her eyes, and though it should remind me of her age, I understand the sentiment. I’ve been hot and cold with her. But I’m serious. This can’t happen. “It’s not because I don’t want you, and it’s not even because I’m your boss.”
Her brows raise in question.
“It’s because there are things going on with the farm that you won’t understand.”
She steps back, creating distance between us. “Tell me.”
“I can’t. I promised your mother and father I wouldn’t.”
Tally’s eyes fall to the counter, zeroing in on her soda bottle. “Okay,” she finally says.
Surprise and maybe a bit of disappointment hit me square in the chest. “Okay?”
Tally nods. “Yes. Okay.”
“I’m confused.”
She sighs but her eyes settle on me and I see something in them that wasn’t there before. “Did they have a good reason to ask you to stay quiet?”
I run a hand down my face. Gail and Peter had their reasons. Are they good? Maybe. I can’t say it’s necessarily wrong, and it certainly isn’t selfish, so I nod.
“Okay. I trust my parents, and this is their business.” Tally’s chin dips. “And I trust you.”
“You do? Why?”
“Because my dad trusted you.” She says it so softly, so sweetly, I just want to pull her against my chest and hold her.
Fuck.
She places a hand against my chest, and I’m sure she can feel my heart pounding wildly beneath it. “Friends?”
I nod because words fail me.
She drops her hand and motions toward the door. “I’m going to go to the bar.”
“Okay. I’ll clean up.”
“You could come if you want,” she offers, her voice raspy with emotion and her face full of hope.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I grab the plates from thecounter and empty them into the garbage.
“It’s just the brewery.” She shrugs and then takes another step back, holding up her hands like she’s promising not to touch me. “We don’t have to go together. I could walk like ten feet in front of you the whole way there.”
“It’s not like that,” I say, shaking my head.
“Then what’s it like, Cowboy?” She licks at her bottom lip when she catches me staring again. “You want to be my friend or not?”
The heels of my palms dig into my eyes as I try to focus on anything but her lips and the way my dick is thumping against my jeans at the mere sight of her tongue. “Christ, woman.”
“Well, as your friend, I’m just letting you know that I’m going to the bar tonight.” She grins at me. “Don’t wait up.”