CHAPTER 6
MORGAN
The first thing I become aware of is the heavy weight of an arm wrapped around my waist. I suck in a sharp breath as everything from last night comes rushing back. I didn’t even finish one drink, so nothing that happened last night with Walker was because of alcohol. Still, it was completely out of character for me.
I’m not the person to do one-night stands and I don’t pick up guys at bars. It’s just not my style. I’ve always required an emotional connection to have sex with someone which hasn’t happened very often.
You have an emotional connection with Walker, just because it was fast doesn’t mean it’s not there.
I soak up the feeling of calm coming from Walker who is wrapped around me like he’s afraid to let me go. It’s almost comical considering I’m not going to run from my own home. Not like I’m not tempted to pull a runner, but it would be pretty silly for me to actually do it.
Right?
Yeah, totally silly. Ridiculous even. Totally wrong of me.
Walker tightens his arm around my waist, his voice a sexy rasp first thing in the morning, “I can hear how loud you’re thinking, Treasure.”
Treasure.
How the hell did he manage to call me the same nickname from my dream? It threw me the first time he used it for sure. I mean, what are the odds? Now though, it feels natural.
Which is scary as hell.
I squeeze my eyes shut and try to even out my breathing. Maybe pretending I’m still asleep will give me some sort of stay of execution. The only thing I get for the attempt is Walker chuckling which I feel rumble through me from where his chest is pressed against my back.
“I know you’re awake, Morgan,” there’s amusement in his tone.
I try to curl in on myself, but Walker is right there and doesn’t allow it. He rolls me effortlessly and then he’s hovering above me. His dark eyes search my face, but I have no idea what he’s looking for.
Can he see my doubts? My reservations?
Part of me wishes I could regret what happened last night since it’s so out of character for me, but it’s impossible to muster up that emotion. I don’t regret it. Which, possibly, is why I’m starting to freak out.
On paper there is nothing about what happened last night that I shouldn’t regret. Yet here I am craving more from this man. Yearning for everything.
“Morgan,” he sighs gently, but surprisingly he doesn’t sound fed up with me even though he probably should be, “I’m not going to allow you to push me away or try and deny what’s between us.”
My voice is small and vulnerable, “What is between us?”
There’s a challenge in the dark glint of Walker’s eyes. Is he daring me to put it into words? To acknowledge it?
Then it’ll be all too real and I’m not sure if I’m ready for that.
“You know exactly what is between us. This,” he gives me more of his weight and instead of being suffocating, it’s comforting, “is very real. I’ve never felt anything like what I felt the first time I saw you. It was like everything made sense for the first time in as long as I can remember. You made it make sense. This is real and you can be scared all you want, but I’m not going to allow you to push me away.”
My eyes slide closed, and I soak up his words, allowing them to make me feel stronger, capable, and ready even with how big they are. And they are big. Huge even. The biggest.
“I’m not the girl who picks someone up at a bar and takes them home,” I try and deflect a little while also giving him a slice of my worries.
“Give me your eyes, Treasure,” he demands, and I have to comply. Our gazes lock and there’s a softness in his eyes, one which coaxes me to trust and to listen. “First off, you didn’t pick me up at a bar and take me home. I’m the one who picked you up and the only reason I brought you here instead of taking you to my place was because I wanted you to be comfortable. It might be a minor distinction, but it’s important.”
I murmur, understanding making me feel a little dazed, “Because it’s all about my comfort?”
“That’s right,” there’s praise in his words as he smiles down at me. “But make no mistake this wasn’t some random hookup or a one-night stand.” His gaze sharpens as he looks at me, an intensity seeping out of him and making me feel on edge. “The fact that we’ve known each other for a little while doesn’t matter. What happened last night isn’t a black mark against you and no one will judge you for it.”
I scoff and shake my head, “I thought you were from a small town, Walker. You should know how it can be sometimes. I’ve always been a good girl,” his lips curl into a smile which has my eyebrows furrowing together in confusion, “and people will be talking about the fact that I left with you.”
“Let me talk.” He kisses my forehead and then trails kisses over my skin like he’s trying to mark every inch of me. His body pressing down on mine, so close I can feel his heart thud against my own right along with every breath he takes. “I know you’re a good girl ,” he emphasizes the words in a way which makes me wet, “but that’s not why what happened last night isn’t going to end up being a big deal.”
Absently, because I’m dazzled by him, I ask, “Oh?”
“They don’t matter, we matter. You’re my woman,” my heart melts with his declaration, “and that’s all that is important.”
My heart desperately wants to believe him. It starts to pound harder in my chest because of how badly I want him to mean every word.
He pulls back just enough to look at me. And, holy shit, does he look at me. I’ve never been looked at as if I’m a work of art before, like I’m sunshine and magic. It makes me feel a little lightheaded.
“You’re mine,” he murmurs. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” the words slip from me without thought or hesitation.
As they echo around us, definitive and strong, I know they’re true. Have I ever said anything truer? I don’t think so.
How odd.
“And I’m yours,” his voice is soft, but his words hit the middle of my chest like a sledgehammer.
Walker lowers his head to kiss me, just a soft press of his lips against mine. Before he can deepen it or anything else can happen, my stomach decides it’s time to mutiny and makes an embarrassing sound. I can feel my cheeks heat, but Walker just smiles.
And his smile is disarming and charming in its boyishness. It’s kind of disgusting—if disgusting means adorable and endearing as hell. Yup, totally gross.
Walker laughs, the sound rich and throaty, before he climbs off me and then picks me up from the bed. I let out a shriek when I realize I’m still naked after last night. While I wasn’t a virgin or anything, being casually naked around anyone is not something I’m used to.
He sets me down and turns me toward the ensuite bathroom. With a smack to my ass he groans, “You better go and do what you need to do before the need to be buried inside of you overrides my need to take care of you.”
I look over my shoulder at him with wide eyes, but the way he’s looking at me—full of hunger and need—has me heading toward the bathroom to get my normal morning routine done. When I step back into my bedroom, wishing my robe had been hanging in there when I needed it the most. But, no, it’s hanging on some hooks on my closet door where I put it before getting dressed yesterday morning. Just my luck.
Walker’s head snaps up from where he’s sitting on the edge of my bed. He’s now fully dressed, which just reminds me how naked I am. With a crook of his finger, he calls me closer to him. For some strange reason I can’t even begin to comprehend, my feet take me closer to him before I even realize what is happening.
When I’m standing in front of him, his eyes get even darker as he takes me in. I want to cover myself and fidget, but the warning in his gaze stops me. A wild need pulses under my skin; it’s a warning and a promise of what is to come.
“You’re a damn vision, Treasure,” his voice is husky and sends a shiver down my spine. My shoulders relax with his praise. It also turns me on. “As much as I want to keep you naked like this, it’s time to get dressed.”
Before I can turn toward my dresser and closet to grab clothes, he’s holding out a pair of panties for me. My mouth falls open as I look between the panties and him. I squeak out, “Are you really going to dress me?”
“What does it look like?”
The challenge in his voice does me in. I might be more reserved about most things, but I do have a competitive streak. I could blame it on having Jared as an older brother, but it’s all me.
With my hands on his shoulders, I step into the panties and try not to melt into a puddle as he glides them up my legs and into place. He doesn’t stop until I’m fully dressed in a bra which matches my panties, a cozy sweater, and my favorite pair of jeans. Oh, then there are the socks and boots to complete the outfit.
“While you were in the bathroom, I checked out your fridge. There’s not much in there to eat, Treasure,” there’s admonishment in his tone that has me looking at the floor.
“I didn’t get the chance to stop by the store yet. I normally go after breakfast on Saturday morning, but with Mom asking for my help my plans got derailed,” I admit.
He nods and kisses me softly before leading me out of my bedroom. I’m pleased as hell to find he’s cleaned up the clothes we left in our wake last night. It’s only once he’s slid my coat into place that he leads me outside and toward his truck.
I don’t even think of asking where we’re going until we only ride a few blocks from my place and pull up in front of a cute little house, one I hadn’t even realized had sold. Walker winks at me when I look at him in surprise.
“I was a little surprised as well when I realized we lived so close together. I have no idea how I missed you, Morgan,” there’s regret in his voice that has me falling a little deeper for him.
I won’t be saying it out loud yet, but I can admit to myself I am falling for this man. There’s something so easy about being around him. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before, and I want more of it; having this feeling for the rest of my life won’t be nearly long enough.
Walker shoots me a look which has me pulling my hand away from the door handle and twining my fingers together on my lap. The smile he shoots me is triumphantly smug before he hops out and comes around to my side. While he helps me down, his touch, filled with gentle care, makes my heart flutter.
The moment Walker swings his front door open, I hear the sound of heavy paws against the floor and my eyes widen. “Roscoe. Sit,” Walker commands.
The giant, fluffy as hell Alaskan Malamute comes to a stop and sits. He’s looking between us with excitement in his eyes. He has heterochromia making one of his eyes a bright blue and the other hazel. He’s gorgeous.
“Oh my,” I gasp before turning to glare at Walker. “You left your dog here alone all night? Why didn’t you say something? I would never have invited you in if I knew your dog was waiting at home for you.”
Walker hooks his arm around my neck and tugs me until I’m plastered against his chest. “I fed Roscoe before going out last night and he has a doggy door. He can get in and out as much as he wants or needs. I also made sure to take him on an extra long walk yesterday and played ball with him out back. But it’s awfully sweet that you want to take up for him.”
I deflate a little bit while feeling a little bit guilty for accusing him of not taking proper care of his dog. Considering Roscoe is still sitting and patiently waiting, he’s well trained and he doesn’t look like he’s hurting for food. With how fluffy he is it wouldn’t be easy to tell though.
“Is he nice? Can I pet him?” I worry my bottom lip, desperately wanting to bury my hands in the scruff of his neck and snuggle with him.
Walker narrows his eyes and warns me, “You aren’t allowed to love my dog more than me.”
I giggle, thinking he’s joking but he doesn’t start to laugh with me. “He’s a dog,” I hiss at the ridiculous man in front of me.
He only shrugs in response, his shoulders only dropping after I continue to stare up at him. “Fine,” he sighs like I’m the one being ridiculous. “Yes, he’s nice. He would love your pets. He’ll make a good guard dog for you and whatever kids we have in the future.”
His words make my stomach clench, but before I can even process them, he kisses my forehead and walks away while saying something about making breakfast over his shoulder. I’m stunned, standing there with only Roscoe keeping me company.
Sure he said something last night about kids, but that was in the heat of the moment. Or so I thought.
Roscoe nudges my hand with his nose, and I jolt a little bit. He’s looking up at me with his beautiful eyes like he knows I need some love. I drop down to the floor and wrap my arms around his neck while burying my face in the soft fur there.
“I think your master might be a little cuckoo,” I whisper.
Roscoe crawls into my lap and huffs out a sound which must be an agreement. It should scare me, but it makes me feel safe.
And now he’s cooking me breakfast?
Marry him. Right away.
I shake my head and focus on loving Roscoe. Apparently he’s not the only one who is cuckoo.