Chapter Thirteen
As Sawyer strode toward his cruiser,
Walker grabbed Delaney’s hand. “Let’s get out of this before we’re
soaked.” Even as he said the words the sky opened and rain began
pelting down. A crack of thunder echoed across the valley, and he
pulled her around the corner and through the door to Three Sisters
Bakery.
“Whew. I’m glad you two
made it in before you were drenched.” A tall man sporting a pointed
goatee, wearing a white apron tied around his thin waist, came from
behind the counter carrying a towel. “Here, Delaney, use this to
dry off. Who’s your friend?”
Rico Cordova stood with his hands on
his hips as Delaney used the towel to dry her bare arms and legs
before handing it to Walker.
“Rico, this is Walker
McGrath.” She turned to Walker. “Rico and his partner, Toby, bought
the bakery about eight months ago. I don’t know what they did to
the recipe for the cinnamon rolls. They used to be decent, now
they’re decadent. Another big improvement? They upped the quality
of the coffee.”
“Nice to meet you,” Walker
said. “Coffee sounds good.”
“Our coffee is organic and
sustainably sourced from the Acatenango region of Guatemala. You
can scan the QR code on our menu to access the blockchain and learn
how our beans are managed every step of their journey from the
plant to your coffee cup.”
Walker stared at him like he was
speaking a foreign language and Delaney stifled the laughter
tickling her throat. Rico caught the look and smoothly segued.
“Which simply means we have the best coffee in town. Doesn’t a
freshly baked cinnamon roll and a cup of hot coffee sound sinful on
a rainy Saturday? If you two are ready to indulge, have a seat and
I’ll bring you out whatever is your preference.”
Walker gave her a slight nod and
Delaney replied, “Coffee and cinnamon rolls sound perfect. Thanks,
Rico.”
They sat at a table by the window.
More people ducked inside to get out of the rain. Several customers
shot them curious looks. Walker drummed his fingers on the table,
then rose abruptly. “Be right back.”
He went to the counter and spoke to
Rico. Rico’s gaze darted to her before he nodded. He poured the
coffee and passed Walker capped to-go cups. He crossed to the
table. “We’re getting our order to go.” He handed her a cup, and
moments later Rico brought a white paper bag with the Three Sisters
Bakery logo. They walked out onto the wet boardwalk.
“You want to tell me what
that was about?” She spoke over the rain that was lessening in
intensity.
“Yeah, in a minute.” Hands
full, he nodded toward the alley. “Let’s go. Grafton will be gone.
We’ll sit in my truck.”
He ushered her down the alley to the
parking lot. He opened the passenger door, shut it firmly after she
was seated with the bag on her lap, then rounded the hood to get in
on the driver’s side.
Once he was seated, he leaned back and
closed his eyes briefly, his breath coming from deep inside like
tension releasing. “Listen, Laney, I—”
She raised a hand to forestall him.
“Cinnamon roll first, lame explanation later.” Rain pattered on the
roof and windshield, cocooning them from the storm. The drop in
temperature raised goosebumps on her skin.
He reached behind the seat, and then
handed her a flannel shirt in a dark plaid. Delaney didn’t bother
pretending she didn’t want it, and wondered how he always seemed to
know what she needed.
With the welcome warmth around her,
she opened the bag and pulled out two boxes with bamboo forks and a
stack of unbleached napkins. Handing Walker his, she opened the box
on her lap and inhaled the delectable aroma.
The icing had soaked into the swirls
of the cinnamon roll and was so gooey she used her fork to cut off
a bite. She closed her eyes and savored the burst of flavor. “This
is so, so delicious.” Opening her eyes, she found Walker’s gaze
fixated on her so intently she thought he’d as soon gobble her up
as the pastry. Even being more than slightly pissed at him, that
look had all sorts of crazy sexy thoughts ricocheting around her
brain.
She didn’t fan herself with the
napkin, but she wanted to. After another bite and a sip of superb
coffee, she said, “Now you can explain why we’re sitting in your
truck instead of inside a very nice bakery with very nice
people.”
“Too many people are
seeing you and me together.”
She paused, her cup halfway to her
mouth. “That’s a jerk comment. You don’t want to be seen with me,
but apparently don’t mind being with me when no one’s around. I
distinctly remember you kissing me recently for no reason except
you seemed to want to kiss me. Do you notice the inconsistency?
Because I sure as hell do.”
He gave a humorless laugh. “I think
we’ve established what’s between us never went away. So yeah, I
kissed you. I can’t seem to help myself.” The look he gave her did
more to warm her than the flannel shirt ever could. “Don’t forget,
you kissed me back. Besides, I like spending time with you, and you
like spending time with me. That’s why you can’t stay away from
me.”
She rolled her eyes. “I see your ego
is intact.” She forked up another bite of cinnamon
deliciousness.
He bit into his own roll, chewing
slowly before chasing it down with a swig of coffee. “Good,” he
pronounced. He leaned toward her, his gaze riveted on her face.
Using his thumb, he wiped the corner of her mouth. “You’ve got
icing there,” he murmured, bringing it to his mouth where he licked
it clean. “Tasty.”
She groaned, thinking maybe she should
use the seatbelt to strap herself in so she didn’t jump him. “Jeez,
Walker. Mixed signals much? You don’t want to be seen with me, but
you turn eating a cinnamon roll into foreplay.”
“Yeah, that’s the problem.
Being seen with me is bad for you for several reasons, including
ruining your reputation. But it’s hard as hell to stay away when
you pull at me the way you do.”
He sent a spike of heat through her
that dispelled the last of the rain’s chill, but she focused on the
first part of his answer and let out a disbelieving laugh. “Ruin my
reputation? Are we somehow in Victorian England and I missed
it?”
His brows lowered. “I’m not joking,
Laney. I’ve been in prison, and having my conviction overturned
doesn’t change that reality. You tangle with me, and people will
treat you differently.”
“Wait a darn minute. Is
that why you’ve been acting like I’m a pain in the ass, because you
think I care what people think? Besides, people know you were
wrongfully convicted.”
“People still think of me
as an ex-con.”
“So what? We’re supposed
to stay away from each other because some people are
closed-minded?”
“Me coming back to Sisters
shouldn’t negatively impact you.”
“That’s ridiculous for so
many reasons. The biggest is you live at Cider Mill Farm, which
you’re part owner of. We could avoid each other in town as much as
you want, but we’re still connected and people know it. The people
who are my friends won’t care, and the people who aren’t, I don’t
care.”
“I don’t want you hurt
because of me. People think differently about ex-cons. Even
vindicated ones.”
“You need to throw off
that burden, Walker. It’s not worth carrying. But you want to know
what really pisses me off?” She didn’t give him a chance to
respond. “You’ve given me no say in the matter. You’ve decided what
you think’s best for me, and I don’t get a choice. Now I feel like
punching you in
the throat.”
“Wouldn’t try that.” His
gaze slid to her lips, then away. “But that’s not the only
reason.”
“You have other reasons to
act like you can’t wait to get rid of me?”
He rubbed a hand over his beard,
staring hard out the window. “Yeah.”
“Care to
elaborate?”
“No.”
“Fine. Once again, you’ve
confirmed why a relationship with you is a bad idea. Been there,
done that. You decided we were done back in the day, and you’ve
decided we can’t have a relationship now based on some screwed-up
idea that you’re somehow tainted. Not that I want a relationship,”
she added hastily. “Men are unreliable jerks.”
She shoved the empty box from her
cinnamon roll into the bag, and felt slightly sick from too much
sugar, or it might be from their conversation.
She sipped her coffee slowly and tried
to find her calm.
***
Walker stopped himself
from reaching for her hand. Delaney was right. He
was a jerk. Every time
he was near her, he wanted to touch her, and he managed to catch
himself and pull back only about half the time. He was sending
mixed signals and he knew it.
Truth was, being with her, talking
with her, touching her, centered him and made him feel like he
could deal with whatever came at him. But no matter how much he
wished their relationship could be different, reality made him
wrong for her. She’d be better off with a guy who’d never been
behind bars or who didn’t have a plan for justice that could lead
to violence. He leaned back in his seat, scrubbing a hand over his
beard. Time to focus.
“I need to talk to you
about something else.”
She gave him the side eye. “The
something you were talking to Gran about.”
“Yeah, that.” He cleared
his throat. This was the crucial hurdle after years of planning. “I
want to invest in Cider Mill Farm.”
He figured he’d surprised her when her
brows winged up. “You and Sawyer inherited the north orchards share
of Cider Mill Farm. You’re already invested. Beyond that, we’re
doing okay financially. If we have the season I’m hoping for, we’ll
be doing even better.”
“You’ve done the work and
are set up to make that happen. My proposal would bring an
additional revenue stream, but I’m not talking about a capital
investment. I’m thinking bigger. Sawyer’s on board, so is Clara.
But you’re the linchpin. If you say no, then it’s no.”
“Sounds like you better
explain what you’re thinking.”
There were so many reasons he wanted
her support, but with sudden clarity he realized the most important