Chapter 10 Walker
walker
Somewhere in the early evening, I get the message that Lucy is sleeping over at Patty June’s place. So I spend the night worshipping Eliza’s gorgeous curves.
I wake with the sun, and she’s still in my arms. It feels too good to be true. For a moment, I don’t move. I don’t even breathe. I just lie there in the gray morning light and let the reality of it sink in.
Eliza Kingridge is curled against my chest. One hand is splayed over my heart, and her dark hair spills across my pillow. She’s soft in sleep, all those sharp edges smoothed away. The furrow between her brows is gone. The tension in her jaw has melted. She looks peaceful.
She looks like mine.
I brush a strand of hair from her face, and she stirs, nuzzling deeper into me. My chest aches with something I haven’t felt in years. It’s something I’d convinced myself I’d never feel again.
The storm has passed. Weak sunlight filters through the curtains, casting pale stripes across the bed. Outside, I can hear the drip of water from the eaves and the distant low of cattle. The world kept turning while we were wrapped up in each other.
It’s hard to believe.
I press a kiss to her forehead, and her eyes flutter open. For a heartbeat, she looks at me with such unguarded warmth that my breath catches.
Then I watch the walls go back up.
It happens fast. One second, she’s soft and sleepy. Next, she’s pulling away. Eliza sits up and clutches the sheet to her chest like armor. Her eyes dart around the room, and I can practically see the panic setting in.
“Hey.” I reach for her, but she flinches. “Eliza. It’s okay.”
“What time is it?” Her voice is clipped and professional—the kind I imagine she uses in court right before she eviscerates someone. A far cry from the vulnerability of last night.
“It’s early. Just a little after six.”
“Lucy—”
“Still at Patty June’s. She texted last night. Said they’d keep her through breakfast.” I sit up slowly, careful not to spook her. “We have time.”
“Time for what?”
The question hangs between us, sharp and brittle. I know what she’s doing. I’ve seen it before. Hell, if I’m honest, I’ve done it before. That desperate scramble to rebuild defenses after you’ve let someone see too much. I’d recognize it anywhere. But this connection between us is different.
“Time to talk,” I say carefully. “About last night. About what you said.”
“What did I say?”
“You said you’d stay.”
She closes her eyes. When she opens them again, something has shifted. Hardened.
“I was lost in the moment. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”
The words land like a punch to the gut. I keep my face neutral, but inside, something cracks.
“Why not?”
“Because it was…” She waves a hand, searching for the word. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. You have to understand, I don’t do this. Ever. I don’t fall into bed with men I’ve known for two days and promise them things I can’t deliver.”
“Seemed pretty clear to me.”
“Walker.” She says my name like a warning, like I’m a witness she needs to control. “Last night was… incredible. I’m not going to pretend it wasn’t. But it doesn’t change anything.”
“That’s wrong. It changes everything.”
“No.” She shakes her head, retreating behind that polished mask. “It was sex. Really good sex. Amazing sex, but that’s all it can be. You know that. Come on, we both know that.”
I stare at her, trying to reconcile the woman in front of me with the one who came apart in my arms last night. The one who whispered I’m yours like she meant it. The one who looked at me like I was the answer to a question she’d been afraid to ask.
“You don’t believe that,” I say quietly.
“It doesn’t matter what I believe. It matters what’s real.
” She swings her legs over the side of the bed, keeping her back to me.
“I have a life in California. A practice. Clients who depend on me. I can’t throw all of that away because of one night.
In fact, I came here to bring my brother back into that world. The real world.”
“Hey, no one’s asking you to throw anything away.”
“Then what are you asking?” She turns, desperation flickering in her eyes. It’s fear, disguised as logic. “What do you want from me, Walker? A long-distance relationship? Weekend visits between court dates? You want me to uproot my entire life for a man I barely know?”
“I want you to give this a chance.” I keep my voice steady, even though everything inside me is screaming. “I want you to stop running long enough to see what’s right in front of you.”
But the armor is up. She’s too collected, and it shatters me.
“Walker, I’m not running. I’m being realistic.”
“You’re being a coward. But we can call it what you want.” I shrug.
Her chin lifts, eyes flashing. “Excuse me?”
“You’re scared, so you’re building walls and convincing yourself that leaving is the smart choice.” I close the distance between us. “But I’m not like anyone you’ve met before. I’m not going anywhere. The only person who’s going to break your heart here is you.”
Her eyes glisten. Then she blinks, and the tears vanish.
“I’m leaving today with or without Danner.” Her voice is flat. Final. “The roads are clear. I need to get back to my life.” She grabs my flannel from the floor and buttons it quickly. She won’t look at me. “I’m sorry I let things get so out of hand. I’ll get my things.”
She’s almost to the door when I speak again.
“I’m not sorry.”
She stops, but she doesn’t turn.
“I’m standing here choosing you, whether or not it makes any sense.” I let the words settle, heavy and true. “The only question is whether you’re brave enough to choose me back.”
Silence stretches. Her shoulders tremble. Her hand tightens on the doorframe.
Then she walks out.
I stand there long after she’s gone, listening to her move through the house. The bathroom door closes. The water runs. Drawers open and shut as she gathers her things.
Part of me wants to go after her. I should grab her and kiss her and make her see what she’s throwing away. But I’ve learned the hard way that you can’t make someone stay who’s determined to leave. You can only show them what they’d be leaving behind and hope it’s enough.
An old familiar wound scratches at my chest. Maybe this life isn’t enough for her.
I shake my head. Fuck.
Lucy’s going to be devastated. She’s already half in love with Eliza, already spinning fantasies about nail polish and having someone to talk to about girl things.
She’s going to ask where Eliza went, and I’m going to have to explain her away as a visitor just passing through the ranch. My chest tightens.
Then the front door opens and closes.
I move to the window and watch Eliza walk down the drive. Her suitcase rolls behind her. Her phone is pressed to her ear. She doesn’t look back once. I watch her walk, and a calm rolls over me.
This isn’t over, it can't be.
I press my palm to the cold glass and make myself a promise. She can run back to California. She can bury herself in work and build her walls higher than ever. But I’ve seen the woman underneath all that armor.
I’ve held her. Tasted her. I heard her cry out my name like it was the only word she knew. She’s mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.
And I’m a patient man.