Chapter 11 #2
She’d wondered, as she and Walker navigated around each other today, as their relationship began to feel like an entrenched friendship, rather than a superficial acquaintance with history, if she should do this.
Delve into Walker’s past without him here.
But what better way to understand the man who was now sharing her living space? Who was so committed to her safety.
She took a deep breath and hit play.
Ninety minutes later she sat in the darkness, her face damp with tears, her breath hitching.
He’d lost so much, she thought, her heart heavy.
He’d watched the men under his command fight and bleed.
Had held his soldiers as they gasped their last breath, had taken their final requests and promised to do what he could.
Had been shot himself, although in the follow-up the narrator said it’d been a relatively minor wound.
Throughout the length of the documentary she watched Walker, his face so impossibly young, being forced to make the hard decisions that had shaped him into the man he was today. Watched as the CO was killed in an attack and her friend assumed command of an outpost that was doomed to fall.
If it hadn’t been for Taylor McCullough live streaming the last battle, the military would have probably left them there, stating it was too dangerous to send in a rescue mission.
But Walker and his men had held until their cobbled together walls had almost fallen, had faced death with stoic faces and a calm detachment that broke her heart. How did you ever come back from something like that?
The next morning, people were already waiting at the door when Serena unlocked it. Regulars like Bobby and the unnamed author, but there were also obviously a bunch of people who were there because they’d heard about the break-in.
Police scanners in Rimrock Creek were as prevalent as pickup trucks, and once something got out into the public, the gossip chains started. She’d known it’d be this way, but it was still a bit of a shock to face that many people at six a.m.
They wandered into The Menagerie, looking at all of the things with curious eyes. Her regulars beelined straight for the counter, and she and Gena began filling their orders.
She hadn’t slept much again last night, unable to stop the scenes from the movie from flashing through her brain. Her own concerns had taken a huge backseat and part of that was because she felt secure enough to think of something else. Because Walker was here.
But if her life in PR had taught her anything, it was how to look the part, so she’d literally painted on her customer service face and screwed on a smile and thought about what she’d say to Walker today.
In fact, she wondered where he was as she handed Bobby a refill. She’d expected him to be standing behind her when she opened the doors this morning looking foreboding, but he was conspicuously absent.
The room was the fullest it had ever been when he decided to saunter down the stairs.
Well-worn jeans that fit like they were painted on and a pair of equally worn boots made him fit in with the locals, as did the hunter-green long-sleeved Henley that highlighted his coloring perfectly.
Dammit, he was giving her a hot flash she really didn’t need right this second.
His hair was slicked back from a shower, and it was obvious he’d stayed the night. That got her a few glances from her regulars, who knew that was not normally the case, in addition to some envious looks from the women in line and scattered throughout the room.
She understood their envy and remembered the feel of his lips on hers the other night at the cottage. Remembered the way he’d cared for her, become completely invested in her safety. Remembered the look on his face last night onscreen when he’d held a dying man through his last breaths.
Yeah, she understood them, and realized that seeing him now, like this, exuding calm confidence and totally unconscious hotness, had shifted something inside her. Last night’s viewing had ripped away her rose-colored glasses about what a man could be. Should be.
Walker Landry wasn’t her ex, Marcus. And he wasn’t her father. He was so, so much better.
His casual entrance this morning was simple but effective in sending a message to whoever had broken in. If he was also staking a different kind of claim, even unintentionally, then she had exactly zero problem with that.
She filled the last of the rush’s orders, then made his latte and brought it over to where he’d settled at the bar-height two-top that had become his go-to seat since he’d started coming.
“Nice entrance,” she said under her breath so only he could hear.
His mouth tipped up in a half smile that made her pulse buck.
“Glad you think so,” he murmured into his coffee as he took a sip.
His gaze flicked back to hers and then past her shoulder as he cataloged the room.
“Figured it’d have more of a punch if they saw me come downstairs, rather than simply being here when you opened the doors. Anything I should be worried about?”
She shook her head and regretfully returned herself to a world where it wasn’t just the two of them. “Regulars and looky-loos. I’m not getting a vibe from any of them.”
He hummed in response and she walked away, pretty sure he was watching her ass as she did. She hid a grin that Gena totally caught. The woman gave her a discreet thumbs up and they got back to it.
She and Gena worked through the morning pretty steadily and even sold and boxed up a few of the tchotchkes decorating the shelves and buffet tables surrounding the main room.
Walker mostly maintained his seat and spoke easily with patrons as they cycled through. At one point he even engaged Bobby, sitting down next to him at the long tall table that hugged one wall.
Apprehensive, she watched them interact. She trusted Walker with her life, sure, but she didn’t want him being a hardass to someone like Bobby, who seemed to be barely scraping by, but was always polite and paid for his coffee and pastry every morning with money that appeared hard-won.
The two men chatted for a few minutes, then Walker returned to his table and her attention was pulled away by another new customer.
At one-thirty, a half an hour before closing, Mr. Higgins made his appearance.
Serena would have thrown up her hands in dismay but restrained herself, because with everything going on, she’d forgotten about him.
She and Gena had been running for hours and she didn’t feel like dealing with him right now, especially knowing he’d be back tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that.
She wanted to close the doors and take a load off.
He approached the counter, and she held up a hand as he did.
“Mr. Higgins, as you may have heard, we had a break-in the other night. I have not had a chance to look for your aunt’s piece of statuary.”
Walker was watching them interact with a heightened level of scrutiny.
She understood that, but this man was the most harmless guy on the planet.
Higgins looked at her with that sad gaze, but there was a sharpness there that hadn’t been present before. “That’s unfortunate, Ms. Blackstone. Very unfortunate. I’ll check back in tomorrow.”
He dipped his head in a short nod, then turned and walked out the door.
She sighed. Disappointing people was her biggest failure, according to her father, and here she was, doing it to a nice man who simply wanted a piece of his family heritage back. She thought she’d beaten back the need to please, to meet expectations, but apparently not.
Vowing she’d dive back into the storage unit tomorrow, she closed up not long after that, and as she clicked the lock in place and flipped the sign, she felt Walker’s presence at her elbow. She turned, and he was right there, so close she could smell his woodsy aftershave.
“I feel like I let him down,” she said. “I want to go back to the storage unit tomorrow and search until we find it, okay?”
Walker reached out and ran a hand along her arm in comfort. It did exactly the opposite and shot tingles through her body.
“Sounds good,” he said as he withdrew his hand. “Just make sure I’m here for when you hand it off to him, though.”
She snorted. “A, when are you not here? And B, I think I can handle Mr. Higgins.”
“I know you can,” Walker said. “But be careful.”
His expression was earnest, his tone warm. He really did believe she could take care of herself, but was still here, backing her up. The warmth she’d felt seconds ago had nothing on this new, blooming feeling inside her chest.
She knew they weren’t the teenagers from that perfect summer two decades ago. They’d both changed, he in ways she couldn’t truly comprehend. But the boy she’d loved with every ounce of her teenaged heart back then was still there, at the core of him.
She walked back into the kitchen, where Gena was finishing cleanup. “Well, that was a barnburner of a day.”
“It sure was,” Gena replied. “We’ve gotten a lot of business out of people with morbid curiosity.”
Serena barked out a laugh. “Indeed we did. We’ll have to see if it’s as good tomorrow. I certainly hope so.”
By the time they put the kitchen to rights and got everything set for the next day, it was getting close to four, and Serena’s stomach growled.
Usually they had time for a quick bite during the day.
If she won enough new customers out of this wave of attention, then she and Gena would have to start figuring out when the lull times were so they could take a lunch break. It was a happy thought.
As much as Madeline had set her up with this place, Serena was living off her savings and would really like to see The Menagerie turn a profit.
Gena exited out the back with a wave, and Serena walked back out front. Walker had resumed his seat at the table and lifted his head from perusing his tablet as she pushed through the doors.
“Kujo’s on his way back to Montana,” he said with a smile. “He and Quentin got everything squared away.”