23. Walker
Chapter 23
Walker
I know Mack and Maggie are up to something before I even step foot in the damn kitchen.
Their whispers travel down the hall, their voices full of poorly disguised mischief.
I pause in the doorway, crossing my arms. “Alright,” I say, narrowing my eyes. “What the hell are you two scheming now?”
Mack and Maggie both freeze, eyes wide like I just caught them burying a body. Then, simultaneously, they scramble to look innocent—Mack shoving something behind her back, Maggie suddenly very focused on stirring her coffee.
I glance between them, already losing patience.
Maggie clears her throat as she glances at the barn. “We were just discussing…” She hesitates. “Hay.”
I blink. “Hay.”
Mack nods vigorously. Way too vigorously. “Yeah. A big hay conspiracy is happening. We'd better stock up for the horses, Dad.”
I stare at them. “You two are ridiculous.”
Maggie nods, completely straight-faced. “Oh, we know.”
I run a hand down my face. “Do I even want to know? ”
“Nope,” Mack says quickly.
“Definitely not,” Maggie agrees, sipping her coffee like she’s innocent.
They’re up to something. And I don’t like it. I move toward the coffee pot, fully aware that they’re still watching me. They’re not even being subtle about it.
Mack leans in, whispering something to Maggie, and Maggie smirks. That damn smirk. The same one she always had when she used to try and set me up with every single person she came across in town.
It finally clicks.
I turn around, arms crossed. “This about Violet?”
Maggie and Mack both feign innocence at the same time.
“Who?” Mack asks, blinking way too much.
Maggie shrugs. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”
I scowl. “You two are the worst liars I’ve ever met.”
Maggie grins, completely unbothered. “Walker, sweetheart, you should know by now—we don’t lie.” She lifts her coffee cup, raising a brow. “We strategically rewrite reality.”
I groan. “Oh, I know.”
Mack snickers.
I grab my coffee and head toward the table, but the second I sit down, Mack perks up. “So, Dad…” she starts, way too casually.
I immediately regret being in this kitchen.
She props her chin on her hand, looking entirely too smug. “Violet sure is happy here, huh?”
I take a slow sip of coffee, pretending I don’t hear her as I fix my plate of food.
Maggie grins. “Oh yes, she fits in so well. The way she’s helping at the bar, making home-cooked meals…” She sighs dramatically. “It’s like she was meant to be here. ”
I set my coffee down. “I strongly dislike both of you at this moment.”
Mack beams. “No, you don’t.”
I scowl at them. “I don’t know what kind of scheme you two are running, but whatever it is, stop.”
Maggie tilts her head. “But sweetheart, if you don’t like her, why are you getting all grumpy?”
“I’m always grumpy.”
Mack snorts. “Yeah, but this is different. You’re extra grumpy.”
I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose. “You’re insufferable.”
Maggie pats my hand like I’m a poor, lost soul. “We just want what’s best for you, honey.”
“And for Violet,” my daughter adds.
“And Rip,” Maggie tacks on.
Mack nods seriously. “Rip loves it here. And for the goats.”
“We don’t have any goats.” I give her a look.
Maggie clicks her tongue. “So much undeniable evidence in favor of this arrangement.”
I glare. “This isn’t a damn trial.”
Mack leans forward, smirking. “Okay, fine, but if this was a trial, the jury would already be so on our side.”
Before I can argue, the screen door creaks open, and the woman in question walks inside, humming to herself, her Velcro dog, Rip, trotting behind her as he usually does.
She’s wearing my damn hoodie, her hair messy from sleep, and looking so comfortable in my house that my brain short-circuits.
Pickles, who had been dozing by the door, immediately jumps up and trots to her and Rip, tail wagging like she hung the damn moon .
Maggie and Mack both exchange looks. And I want to throw myself out the nearest window.
Violet pauses, raising a brow at the three of us. “Okay,” she says slowly. “What’s going on?”
I open my mouth?—
And Mack ruins everything.
“Dad was just saying how much he likes having you around.”
I choke on my coffee.
Violet’s eyes widen slightly, a smirk creeping onto her lips.
“Oh really?” she asks, way too amused.
I shoot Mack a glare that could set fire to a forest.
Mack grins, completely unrepentant. “Yup. Big softie, this one.”
I swear to God, I’m going to send this child to a nursing home with Maggie. Maybe they have a two for one deal.
Violet grins, shaking her head. She walks past me, giving Pickles a scratch behind the ears before stealing a piece of toast from my plate like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
And the worst part?
I don’t stop her. I simply watch as she heads back out to the porch, Pickles and Rip trotting behind her.
Maggie leans back in her chair, looking smug as hell.
“Well, well,” she hums, sipping her coffee. “Would you look at that?”
I narrow my eyes. “Don’t say it.”
She grins. “Looks like we’re keeping her after all.”
Mack cheers.
And me? I sit there, watching her, watching this, and I know?—
I’m so screwed.
The bar is halfway through the afternoon rush, and Violet and I are behind the counter, moving like we’ve been doing this together forever.
She’s pouring drinks, throwing in that easy charm that makes her a new favorite among the customers, while I handle inventory and keep an eye on everything.
I barely notice the door swing open until a familiar voice cuts through the noise.
"Well, damn. You replace me already, boss?"
I turn, and there he is—Cash, grinning like he never left.
"You look too well rested for someone who has a newborn at home," I say, crossing to give him a hug and clapping him on the back. "How’re Codi and the baby?"
Cash laughs, clapping me on the back as he settles onto a barstool. "Yeah, yeah. I needed a break, but I’m ready to come back if you’ll have me. Everyone is good.”
Violet walks over, setting a beer in front of a customer next to him. "Hi, Cash," she muses.
Cash smirks. "Hey, Violet, how's my job?"
She grins. "Good, you ready to have it back?”
Cash laughs. "I will admit that I missed this place.” Then, he lowers his voice. "Also, I heard this wild rumor that Kelsie Turner was here?"
I pause.
Cash leans in. "Walker. Tell me it’s not true. I missed that?"
I sigh, rubbing a hand down my face. "It’s true."
His jaw drops. "What the hell?"
Violet laughs, crossing her arms. "Oh, you should’ve seen it. Full-on country music royalty, waltzing into The Black Dog like it was nothing."
Cash shakes his head, staring at me. "You really gonna act like this isn’t the craziest thing that’s happened since this place opened? "
I shrug, grabbing a rag and wiping the counter. "It was just business."
She snorts. "Yeah. Just business."
Cash narrows his eyes at me. "You’re hiding something, but I’ll get it out of you eventually."
I change the subject. "You looking for more hours?"
Cash nods. "Yeah. I need the work."
I glance around the bar, at the growing crowd, the endless responsibilities, the way I barely have time to do anything but keep this place running.
Then, an idea hits me. A crazy one.
One that might actually make my life easier.
I lean on the counter, leveling Cash with a look. "How would you feel about being the bar manager?"
Cash blinks. "Come again?"
I cross my arms. "I’m looking to hand off more responsibility. You’ve been here long enough. You know the place inside and out. Thought you might want a promotion."
Cash stares at me and grins. "You’re serious?"
"Dead serious."
He lets out a low whistle. "Damn. Didn’t think I’d walk in here today and get a promotion."
Violet leans on the counter beside me, grinning. "You should take it. He needs someone to keep him from growling at customers all the time."
I shoot her a look. "I do not?—"
"You do," Cash and Violet say at the same time.
I roll my eyes.
Cash leans back, running a hand through his hair. "You know what? Yeah. I’ll do it."
I nod. "Good."
Violet grins at him. "Welcome to management, boss. "
Cash chuckles, raising his beer. "Guess I better start acting important, huh?"
I smirk and playfully toss him a rag. "Yeah. Start by cleaning tables."
He groans and laughs. "Already regretting this."
The rush picks up again, but something inside me feels lighter. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I can breathe. With Cash stepping up, I don’t have to do this by myself anymore.
And maybe, just maybe—I don’t want to.
I glance at Violet, who’s already tossing a rag at Cash and laughing when he dodges it. She fits here. Too damn well. And with the weight of the bar shifting off my shoulders, I finally have the time to focus on what matters. My daughter. My music.
And the woman who’s making it harder and harder to imagine life without her.
I find her behind the bar, wiping down the counter, lost in whatever song she hums under her breath. She hasn’t noticed me yet. For a second, I just watch her. It’s ridiculous how easily she fits here, how natural it feels having her behind my bar, moving like she’s been here for years instead of weeks.
And that’s exactly the problem.
Because the longer she stays, the harder it’s getting to picture this place and my life without her in it. I clear my throat, and she finally looks up, a slow smile pulling at her lips.
“Well, if it isn’t Walker, looking like he needs me for something,” she teases, leaning against the counter.
I roll my shoulders back, ignoring how my cock twitches when she looks at me like that .
“I don’t like to ask for favors,” I mutter.
Her grin widens. “Yet here you are.”
I exhale sharply, dragging a hand over the back of my neck.
Maggie’s busy. The Dogwood rebuild takes up a lot of her time, and I don’t like Mack being alone at night. Cash is taking over more of a manager role, but I still need help at home.
I could ask anyone. Could find someone else to help. But I don’t want someone else.
I want her.
“I need someone to stay at the house with Mack when I’m working,” I say finally. “Make sure she gets to school. Pick her up.”
Her eyes widen slightly, like she wasn’t expecting that. Hell, I wasn’t expecting it either.
She blinks up at me, like she’s waiting for the punchline. “You want me to help?”
I meet her gaze. “Yeah.”
I expect her to hesitate. To say she’s too busy, that it’s too much. But instead, she smiles. Soft and real, like the idea of helping means something to her. “Of course, Walker. I’d love to.”
Something shifts in my chest. Like I was bracing for something that never came. Like maybe, I was waiting for her to give me a reason not to do this.
She doesn’t. Instead, she just says yes.
She doesn’t know what that means to let someone into my life like this. And for the first time, I think—maybe I’m okay with it.
"Hey, Walker?" she asks with a hint of teasing in her tone.
"Yeah?"
"Can we write together in your secret cabin?"
I stare at the ceiling, "Don't push it, Red."
But I'd love to write music with her. I'm dying to write music with her. But she's already slipping into all the other corners of my life. Music is my only safe space now. The door I swore I'd never to open to anyone.
If I let her in, she’ll see it all. She’ll see how much I still love it. How much I still need it, even after all these years of pretending I don’t. She’ll see the parts of me I don’t let anyone else see. And worse?
She’ll make me want it again.
And if I let myself want it, if I step back into that world, even for her?—
I don’t know if I’ll survive it a second time.
I've been doing my best to avoid Red and her questions about songwriting. I don't regret telling her, but now I'm just not sure where to go from here. For over fifteen years, this has been a part of me that I kept private. I don't know how to share that with anyone, let alone Violet.
I should’ve known something was up when Jack and Ollie cornered me at the bar.
Jack sits on the barstool he always claims as his with his legs stretched out, arms crossed, and that shit-eating grin already in place. Ollie leans against the counter, his firefighter uniform still dusty from a call earlier, and a look that says, “I’m here to cause problems on purpose.”
I grab a rag and wipe down the bar, ignoring whatever ambush they’re brewing. “You two need something? Or just here to loiter like the freeloaders you are?”
Ollie smirks. “I'd take a burger and fries. I'm starving.”
Jack straightens, pushing his hat back on his head. “We need to talk about Violet. ”
I freeze for half a second, then continue wiping down the bar like I didn’t hear him. “No, we don’t.”
“Yeah,” Ollie says, voice smug as hell. “We do.”
I exhale through my nose and brace myself.“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, tossing the rag aside and heading toward the cooler.
“Bullshit.” Ollie grabs a soda from the cooler. “You’re into her. We’ve all seen it.”
Jack nods, his grin widening. “Maggie said you practically stare at her like she’s a stack of pancakes every time she walks into the room.”
I groan. “Jesus, why is Maggie involved in this conversation?”
“Because she’s Maggie,” Jack says, shrugging. “And she loves meddling in all our lives.”
Ollie sips his soda. “So, what’s your plan here, Walker? Keep standing around all broody while Violet thinks you don’t care?”
“I don’t stand around broody.”
They both laugh.
“Dude.” Ollie points at me. “You have literally been brooding about her since she got here.”
Jack holds up a hand. “Wait—do you remember the first night she bartended with you? The man looked like he was ready to propose.”
Ollie slaps the bar. “Yes! And when she laughed at the Oompa Loompa fiasco last week? Walker made this weird face—like he got hit in the gut. He's a goner.”
I scowl. “I did not make a weird face.”
Jack tilts his head. “It was weird.”
“Super weird,” Ollie confirms.
I grit my teeth. “You two are idiots.”
“Maybe,” Jack says. “But we’re right and you like her. ”
I rub a hand over my jaw. I could lie. Tell them they're off base. ButI can’t.
Because they're right.
I like her. More than like her. And now that she knows about the songwriting, how I’ve been holed up in that cabin, pouring my soul into notebooks for years, the line I’ve tried to keep between us doesn’t exist anymore.
I let her in.
Jack’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “Walker, you’ve always been a damn hermit since we've known you. And we get it. We do. But Violet’s different. We like her for you.”
Ollie nods. “She gets it, man. She's one of us."
I swallow. Yeah.That’s the terrifying part. Because I can see her here as one of us. But what if she ends up leaving?
“I don’t know if I can let her in,” I mutter. “Not all the way.”
Jack sighs. “You mean you don’t know if you can let yourself be happy.”
I shoot him a glare.
He grins. “You’re not denying it.”
The silence stretches across the bar. I stare at the worn wooden surface, trying to find some excuse, some reason to keep everything locked down. But the truth is there, staring me in the face.
Violet isn’t like anyone else.
She fits here. With me. With Mack. With this entire town. And damn if I expected this. Or was even looking for it. I wasn’t waiting around for someone to walk into my life and make me feel like this. But she did.
She makes me laugh. More than I’ve laughed in a long time.
I like her so damn much.
She makes the world feel brighter. Like there’s color where there was darkness before. And she’s so beautiful. And I’ve been standing on the edge, pretending I don't want more. Pretending that night with her didn’t undo me. Pretending that being near her doesn't make me ache with something I haven't let myself feel in years.
I want her. And I want her to know the parts of me no one else does. That scares the hell out of me.
Ollie slaps the bar suddenly, making me jump. “Enough with the broody act, Walker. She likes you. You like her. Stop being a wussy and go get your girl.”
I barked out a laugh. “A wussy?”
“Yeah.” He grins. “A big ol’ wussy.”
Jack chuckles. “I mean… he’s not wrong.”
I shake my head, biting back a smile. “You two are relentless.”
“Because we’re right.” Ollie points his soda at me. “And because she's worth it.”
The words hit harder than I expected. Because yeah, she is.
And suddenly, I’m not so sure I want to spend the rest of my life not letting her in. Maybe it feels scary because it's right.
I want more.
And maybe… maybe it is time to stop being a damn wussy and go after it.