Chapter 17 #2
I have the unexpected urge to tell him about Mama’s Parkinson’s.
I shake my head, pushing the thought aside.
I’ve already shared so much with him, and I’m not sure it surfaced only because he’s been so patient and supportive about everything else—or because I’m just drained and desperate for a little comfort.
Walker: Have I mentioned how pretty you are?
Birdie: Once or twice, but I wouldn’t mind a refresher.
Walker: Then let me remind you. You’re stunning, and I’m counting down the minutes until I can see you again.
Birdie: Any idea when that might be?
I try to act nonchalant even though anticipation is bubbling beneath the surface.
Walker: How about tomorrow? I want to take you out again, and we can go back to my place if you’re up for it.
Birdie: Oh… so I’m not seeing you tonight, then?
The disappointment hits harder than I expect when I realize I might have to wait a whole day to see him again.
It’s not just about wanting him physically.
I miss Walker when he’s not around, and that mix of longing and excitement is both exhilarating and terrifying.
It’s another thing I’m not prepared to unpack right now.
Walker: After I finish at the sheriff’s office, I’m off to the ranch to help Heath mend fences. Probably won’t be done until late.
Birdie: You sure? I could’ve sworn your whole day was reserved for giving me orgasms.
Walker: Sounds like a position only I’m qualified for.
Birdie: Shame you’re unavailable.
Walker: Guess I’ll have to get creative, finding a way to make it worth your wait.
Birdie: Oh? And how do you plan on doing that?
Walker: For one, using rope in a future lesson.
Birdie: Use it how?
Walker: I’d love nothing more than to bind your hands above your head and put my mouth on that sweet pussy of yours.
Good grief. I press my legs together as heat spreads through my lower belly, imagining what it would feel like to have him between my thighs, making me come while my hands are bound above my head.
I never anticipated bondage to make it on my list of fantasies, yet now all I can think about is Walker’s big hands winding rope around my wrists and securing me to the headboard, edging me with his tongue. I find I rather like the idea of submitting to him and giving him complete control.
Birdie: I think I’m going to need a demonstration.
I smirk at the phone as I hit send. Until recently, the idea of sending a flirty text would have left me paralyzed with panic—but now I’m sexting with ease, without batting an eyelash.
Now that I’ve had my first orgasm, it’s as if a dam has burst, and every nerve in my body begs for another release—a stark contrast to before, when pleasure always seemed distant and out of reach. There’s only one explanation for the change: Walker Halstead.
Walker: That can be arranged.
Walker: Your dad just called everyone into his office. I’d better go.
Birdie: Okay. Talk to you later!
Walker: Bye, beautiful. Looking forward to our next lesson.
Birdie: Me too.
More than anything.
I tuck the phone under my chin, staring at the floor with a dreamy smile. There’s something magical about being called beautiful by a rugged cowboy who can turn a simple goodbye into a moment that lingers in my mind all day.
Walker has a way of showing up for me, even when he doesn’t realize I need him, and it makes me want to do the same for him.
It gets me thinking about how he hasn’t slept a wink, and he has a full day ahead in the fields.
It’s going to be exhausting, and I’m certain he’ll be wiped by the evening.
It makes me think of my long shifts at the feedstore—and how the bearable ones are always the days he shows up with my favorite meal from the diner, and a warm hello.
The thought of returning some of the kindness he’s shown me sparks an idea. Why not surprise him with lunch at the ranch this afternoon? Briar or her mom usually drops something off for the guys and the ranch hands when they’re out in the fields, but I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if I did this time.
The problem is that, aside from our scheduled lessons and dates, Walker and I haven’t really talked about what unplanned time together looks like when we’re pretending to be a couple.
My idea could easily backfire, and he might not appreciate it the way I hope—but I’m done playing it safe and avoiding things out of fear.
It’s time to stop holding back. I need to be confident enough to take a risk, no matter the outcome.
My dad gets back to the house around noon to take over Mama’s care.
Briar picked the kittens and me up, then stopped by my place so I could change and check on the other animals before taking us to her cottage.
Jensen is out mending fences too, so she suggested we make lunch to take out to the guys, which solves my earlier panic.
I helped her and Caleb make ham-and-cheese subs and trail mix, and now we’re headed out to the field to deliver it.
I decide not to tell Walker that I’m coming, keeping it a surprise.
Briar has the windows rolled down and is tuned into a local country radio station. Caleb’s a big fan, bobbing his head to the music, one hand stretched out the back window, fingers catching in the breeze as we cruise through the ranch.
“Thanks for letting me tag along,” I say to Briar.
She glances over and smiles. “No problem. I’m glad for the help. Heath doubled the number of ranch hands this year so there’s a lot more mouths to feed. With Mama Julie busy helping with the summer program at the elementary school, I’ve been bringing food out to guys in the afternoons.”
“Sure, it’s not just an excuse to see Jensen?” I tease, waggling my brows.
She tips her head back, laughing. “As if you’re not looking for an excuse to see Walker.”
Touche.
Jensen splits his time between working on the ranch and helping Briar with her nonprofit, and since they can’t stand being apart for more than a few hours, they’re always finding excuses to be in the same place during the workday.
Gravel crunches beneath the Jeep tires as Briar pulls up beside the field where everyone is hard at work.
Heath holds a new post steady while Jensen shovels dirt back in the hole, packing it tight around the base.
Down the line, Walker and the ranch hands work in pairs, repeating the same process along a stretch of fence that Briar told me had seen better days.
My gaze drifts to Walker, his sleeves rolled up and dirt streaked across his forearm.
His white shirt is soaked with sweat, clinging to his back as his muscles flex with each movement while he lifts another post into place.
He’s downright sexy, and I remember exactly what those hands are capable of—gripping my face, his mouth on mine, rough and urgent.
I exhale, forcing myself to rein in my fantasy.
Now isn’t the time or place to have lusty thoughts.
Jensen notices us first and claps Heath on the back, pointing in our direction.
“Come on, little man,” Briar calls over her shoulder to Caleb.
“They look like they could use a break, and your dad sure seems excited to see you.” Her gaze shifts to me.
“And judging by that look on your face, you’re eager for a reunion of your own.
” Her tone is teasing as she nods toward Walker, whose brow furrows when he squints in our direction and spots us.
I don’t bother denying it as I climb out of the vehicle and wave to Walker. When he spots me, his expression shifts, a grin spreading across his face as he lifts a hand in return. Relief washes over me, the tight knot in my chest loosening.
I help Briar and Caleb lay out the ham subs, fruit and nut packs, and water so the guys can grab a bite when they’re ready.
Heath and Jensen are the first to head over. Caleb runs straight into Jensen’s arms, giggling as Jensen lifts him and spins him in a circle.
“Appreciate you stopping by, sis,” Heath says, grabbing a bottle of water from the cooler and drinking it down in seconds. “Howdy, Birdie. Didn’t expect to see you here.”
My shoulders square on instinct. “Figured Briar could use some backup preparing lunch so you guys could get a break from this heat.”
He slowly nods. “It’s a scorcher today, that’s for damn sure.”
“Y’all making good progress?” Briar asks.
“We always do with Heath in charge. He’s a tough taskmaster,” Jensen interjects, moving to stand beside her, slipping an arm around her shoulder, and planting a kiss on her temple.
The ranch hands come over, and I’m caught off guard when I spot Dalton—the guy from the bar I accidentally elbowed in the nose. I didn’t know he worked for the Halsteads. He stops in his tracks when he sees me, as if I’m capable of inflicting another injury from ten feet away.
I’m spared from an awkward interaction when Walker steps out from the front of the Jeep. His gaze flickers between Dalton and me as he comes to stand beside me.
His possessive gaze drops to my mouth as his fingers graze my hip. “You’re here.”
“I am,” I say, smiling softly. “You’ve had a long day, so I wanted to bring you lunch. I hope that’s okay.”
“Okay? You just made my whole damn day, Birdie, baby.”
He tips my chin and captures my lips in a slow, lingering kiss that feels a lot like he’s staking his claim.
“Guess we’re kissing in public now?” I murmur against his lips.
“Damn right. Gotta make it clear who you belong to.” He shoots a warning glance at Dalton before leaning in to kiss me again.
Heaven help me, but I like this possessive side of Walker, and for a fleeting moment, our relationship feels dangerously real.