25. Walker
Chapter 25
Walker
T he bar is quiet now. It's our last night working together since Cash is back tomorrow, and Red will shift her focus to helping me out more at the house. And damn if I don't love having her at my house. My home has always been meant to be full of people. And I'll admit that I'm really going to miss working with her. She makes the bar come alive when she's here. The whole energy in the place changes when she's around. She's one of the hardest workers I've ever met, and our customers love having her here.
The last of the customers are gone for the night, the lights are dimmed, and the only sounds left are the hum of the jukebox on low and the quiet clinking of glasses as Violet puts them away.
We’ve fallen into this simple rhythm, her working beside me, moving through my world like she was always meant to be here.
It’s dangerous.
Because every night she closes the place down with me, it gets harder to picture this bar without her.
Harder to picture my life without her .
I glance up, watching Violet lean against the counter, humming to herself as she wipes down the bar. Rip is sprawled out on the floor, completely dead to the world, his tail flicking lazily whenever Violet shifts. He stays back in the office all night, but comes out here to watch her while we close up.He’s never far from her.
She fits here. And her dog. Seeing her happy with her dog has been worth it.
I should say something. Tell her goodnight, tell her… something that isn’t the truth that claws at the back of my throat.
But instead, I just watch her.And, of course, she notices.
“What?” she asks, smirking as she tosses the rag over her shoulder.
I shake my head, grabbing my keys. “Nothing.”
She follows me toward the door, her presence at my side too familiar now.Too right. And then, right as I flip the sign to Closed, she says it. “You ever get tired of me hanging around?”
She says it lightly, like it’s a joke, but there’s something else in her voice. Something uncertain.
Like she’s testing me.
Like she’s still not sure if she belongs here.
Like she still thinks she might leave.
And before I can think about it, before I can talk myself out of it—the words just come out. “You’re stuck with us, Red.”
She goes still. Her eyes widen just a little, searching my face like she’s not sure she heard me right. “Yeah?” she murmurs.
I swallow, my grip tightening around my keys. “Yeah.”
She doesn’t say anything right away. She just looks at me, and for the first time, I think she finally sees what I’ve been too damn stubborn to say out loud.
That she’s not just passing through. That I don’t want her to.
She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, something soft and unreadable in her expression. Then, smirking just enough to break the tension, she bumps her shoulder into mine. “Well, lucky you,” she teases. “I’m pretty good company.”
I chuckle, shaking my head as I push open the door. “Yeah. You are.”
And for the first time in a long time, I know I mean every damn word, but I can’t let the moment get too serious. I nudge her shoulder. “So… how’d you enjoy your life of crime?”
Her steps falter. “What?” She asks it all innocently, pretending not to understand. But I know what they did. And I have to give her crap about it. I've been waiting for the perfect moment to tease her about this. “The pie heist.” I grin, shoving my hands in my pockets. “You, Mack, Cami, Poppy. Disguises. Busted by Sheriff Matthews. Ring any bells?”
Her mouth drops open. “How do you know about that?”
“Sheriff Matthews showed me the footage.” I chuckle. “You should really work on your getaway skills.”
She groans, tipping her head back. “There’s footage?!”
“Oh yeah.” I lean against the doorframe, enjoying this way too much. “My favorite part? You, tripping over a bush while Mack screams, ‘Save the pie!’ like you're both in an action movie.”
She slaps a hand over her face. “Dear God. I’m never showing my face in town again.”
“Too late.” I grin. “A private viewing is scheduled for the next town meeting.”
Her eyes snap to mine. “You’re lying.”
“Nope.” I pull out my phone and pretend to scroll. “Maggie’s bringing popcorn.”
She groans again. “I can't believe it.”
“Believe it. Funny you all thought you could get away with it. You should have known Maggie would get the last laugh. ”
Her mouth opens to argue, but she stops. Because she knows I’m right.
The tension shifts again from playful to something heavier. Thicker. We stand in the doorway. Inches apart. The air between us crackles like a live wire.
Her eyes lift to mine. My gaze drops to her mouth.
I know better.
But she’s looking at me like she’s just as wrecked by this as I am. And that’s when I know I’m done for. I lean closer. My hand drifts toward her waist.
She sways toward me, just slightly.
God. I want to kiss her. So damn bad.
"Walker," she breathes.
I swallow hard. "Yeah?"
Her lips twitch, mischief sparking in her eyes. "Next time we rob a pie, you’re driving. Because clearly, I can’t be trusted on foot."
I bark out a laugh, the tension shattering like a dropped dessert. "Deal."
She grins. "And we’re bringing disguises that don’t make us look like raccoons committing tax fraud."
I shake my head, still chuckling. "Noted. I’ll handle the getaway car. You handle not face-planting."
She groans. "One bush! I tripped over one bush!"
"It looked like an aggressive bush," I deadpan. "Jumped out of nowhere."
She throws her hands in the air. "Exactly!"
I smirk, arms crossed, and I chuckle as I walk her to her car. She slides into the driver's seat, Rip jumping in beside her.
My chest feels tight. My head’s a mess.
She rolls down the window, and I rest my forearms against the door. “Night, Red,” I murmur.
Her gaze meets mine. Soft. Searching. “Night, Walker. ”
She pulls away, taillights glowing red in the dark. And I stand there long after she’s gone, the night air cool against my skin.
Because I just told Violet Wilson she’s stuck with me.
And for the first time in years… I hope like hell she believes it and sticks around.
She heads home, and I finish things up at the bar, getting it ready for tomorrow.When I pull in a little later, I notice a light on in the barn. I catch Violet in there, talking to Maximus like he’s her therapist, looking so at home in my world that it messes with my head.
So, of course, I do the dumbest thing possible. I saddle up the horses and tell her, "Come on. Let's go on a middle of the night ride."
And now? Now, she’s riding next to me, hair spilling loose from whatever mess of a bun she had it in, my hoodie drowning her frame, and I have no clue how to handle any of this.
We stop at the ridge overlooking the house, the glow of the stars twinkling in the sky.
Violet exhales, taking it all in. “Wow.”
I’m not looking at the view, I’m looking at her. At the way the big, beautiful moon lights up her face, the tension in her shoulders easing like this is the first time she’s breathed all day. The silvery light touching her face, highlighting her soft skin, makes her look like she came straight out of a fairy tale.
She catches me staring. “What?” she asks, voice quieter than before.
I shake my head. “Nothing.”
She smirks, tilting her head. “You’re a terrible liar, you know.”
I huff out a quiet laugh. And now, somehow, she’s looking at me the way I’ve been trying not to look at her.
Like something is about to happen .
Like she’s waiting.
Like maybe I don’t have to hold back anymore.
I should move. I should say something to break this ridiculous tension. Instead, I just sit there, watching her, my eyes flickering down to her lips before I can stop myself. She shifts as she feels it, too.
“Walker…”
I lean in. Just barely. Her breath catches. And right when I think she’s gonna meet me halfway, Maximus snorts loud enough to shake the damn earth.
I jerk back, cursing under my breath.
Violet lets out a laugh, pressing a hand to her chest. “Wow. Thought that was about to be a moment.”
I glare at my horse, who looks far too pleased with himself. “Maximus, I swear to God?—”
“Has terrible timing?” she offers, grinning.
I sigh, adjusting the reins, trying to ignore the fact that I was about two seconds away from doing something stupid. "Come on, Red," I mutter. "Let’s get you home."
She doesn’t argue. But as we turn the horses around, the air between us is different now.
Like she knows.
Like I know.
“Hey, Red, I have a delivery coming today at around noon. Can you be available?” I ask as she stirs a pan of eggs on the stove for breakfast burritos.
“Sure, what are you having delivered?” she looks up curiously. She has on one of my flannel shirts over some leggings. And I will never get tired of her stealing my shirts .
I lean in closer and whisper, “Baby goats. But don’t tell Mack. It’s a surprise.”
Her eyes widen, “What? Oh my gosh, no way!”
“Way. She’s been asking for them for a while now. She’s probably forgotten by now. But they’re coming. She’ll be excited.”
“Heck, I’m excited, Walker,” she says excitedly. “You know you’re going to have an entire zoo by the time she’s done asking, right?”
I roll my eyes playfully. “Not happening. Just a few goats, Red. It's really not that big of a deal.” I got them because they’ll be good to clean up the weeds around the property, and plus, they did look really cute in the picture.
Later that evening, I pull into the driveway, already knowing something’s wrong. For starters, the flowerpots on the porch are tipped over. The flowers that were planted in them are gone, and dirt is everywhere.
Rip Heeler and Pickles run around in wild circles, barking their heads off.
And there are goats. Everywhere. So many goats.
I grip the steering wheel and take a slow breath. What. The. Holy. Hell.
Then the screen door swings open—and a goat sprints out of my house.
Out. Of. My house.
Maggie, sitting comfortably on the porch like she’s enjoying a damn TV show, sips her sweet tea and tips her glass toward the chaos.
“Welcome home, Walker. I see you got some goats.”
I climb out of the truck, eyes scanning the battlefield. Horror fills me. What the hell? One goat stands proudly on the hood of Violet's car, another perches on the porch railing, and?—
Jesus Christ. Another is on the roof of the barn.
“Okay,” I say slowly. “I’m afraid to ask.”
“Good choice,” Maggie says, taking another sip. "Just enjoy it like I’ve been."
Then I spot Mack and Violet, standing in the middle of the yard, looking like they’re plotting something.
Mack grins, andViolet is covered in dirt, holding an open bag of potato chips like she’s negotiating a hostage situation.
A goat nudges her knee, and she yelps. “No! We are not doing this again, you tiny demon!”
The baby bleats loudly, clearly disagreeing.
Mack bursts into laughter.
I rub my temples. “Someone start explaining.”
Mack bites back another laugh, wiping her eyes. “Okay, first, thanks for the baby goats, Dad. I mean, you totally over-delivered on this one. They are totally adorable and so much fun. And second, Violet is amazing.”
Violet glares at her. “I am not amazing . I am a victim .”
Maggie cackles.
I cross my arms. “Explain.”
Maggie points at Violet, grinning. “She took a goat to the knee, Walker. It was a Nancy Kerrigan figure skating move.”
Mack bows to Violet. "You didn't even go down easy. You just took the hits like a champ."
Violet turns to me, wild-eyed. “Your goats are evil.”
The herd makes its way back to the pen now, somehow. Probably has something to do with Rip Heeler herding them all back in.
However, one still watches from the roof.
"Why are there so many?” I ask, panicked .
“They said you ordered two dozen,” Violet says as she shoos the one at her feet into the pen.
“I asked for two. Two!” I protest, rubbing the back of my neck. "Not twenty-four."
Maggie chuckles, shaking her head. “This is the funniest damn thing I’ve seen in years.”
I glance at Violet, still clutching the chip bag like it’s a lifeline.
“Dare I ask why you’re bribing them with potato chips?”
Violet throws a hand in the air. “Because it works!”
Mack nods. “She’s right. The goats respect snack-based negotiations.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “What are we supposed to do with twenty-four goats?”
Mack looks at me oddly. "Is this a bad time to tell you that some of them look like they are with child?"
I stare up at the sky and curse my good deed decisions that are now coming back to bite me.
Mack throws an arm around Violet’s shoulder, still grinning. “We should do this again sometime.”
Violet turns to her, dead serious. “If you ever say that again, I swear on Maggie’s peach pie, I will fake my own death, move to Alaska, and live among the moose."
Mack bursts out laughing.
Maggie wipes a tear from her eye, she’s laughing so hard. “The best entertainment I’ve had in years.”
I shake my head, watching them, and something tightens in my chest. Because as ridiculous as this scene is, Violet fits in here.
She’s covered in dirt, arguing with my kid like they’ve been doing this for years. She’s standing in my yard, dealing with my animals, and not running away screaming. And I don’t know when it happened, but…I can’t picture this place without her anymore.
Violet groans, pointing at me. “Walker, I swear, if one of these goats gets inside your house again, I’m moving out.”
Mack smirks. “But you don’t even officially live here.”
Violet freezes.
I freeze.
Maggie grins like the devil.
“Well,” she says sweetly, sipping her lemonade, “maybe it’s time she does.”
Mack high-fives her.