Chapter 12
Later that evening, Walker hosted a Zoom call with the team from the main dining room at The Menagerie, informing them that Last Light had now officially become a member of the Brotherhood Protectors.
From his computer screen back at the ranch, Quentin stated that he was moving to the ranch permanently, which came as a surprise to Walker.
He’d figured the cybersecurity expert would head back to D.C.
, where his talents were in high demand.
“I can work from here and fly out when necessary,” he told them. “I like the quiet.”
Now that Walker understood.
Behind him, Serena was unabashedly looking at the men on the screen. When she came into camera range, Malcolm let out a whistle.
“Who’s your lady friend?” Malcolm asked. “And is she single?”
Serena laughed and moved in closer, waving. “Hi, I’m Serena. Walker and I go way back. I’ve heard a lot about you guys. I've even seen you in the movie.”
They all groaned, with the exception of Malcolm, who’d soaked up the limelight like a damn sponge. Before Walker had come on the scene, his nickname had been Fabio, for the amount of time he spent on his hair, which had most definitely been out of regs.
“But are you single?” Malcolm persisted. He was harmless, always had been, though he played a good game.
Walker felt the weight of Serena’s gaze on him and knew, without her saying a word, that her very public gaze in front of his team was payback for the way he’d moseyed downstairs this morning at The Menagerie.
He wondered what she’d say if he told her he was fine with it.
That he welcomed not only her attention, but the fact that she was making a statement of her own.
But that wasn’t a discussion he was willing to have in front of his teammates, and certainly not when he knew that she’d watched the documentary. She must have watched it last night after she went into her room.
He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about her seeing him at his most vulnerable—and least authoritative.
Serena let the moment stretch, then gave them another wave and stepped out of camera range when it would have become weird.
“Well, bummer,” Malcolm said on a long-suffering sigh. “Are there any more hotties out there? I don’t remember seeing anybody like her when I was there.”
“Oh, for the love of God, rein in your hormones,” Taylor said with an exasperated tone. “You sound like you’re fifteen.”
“Serena is our first official case,” Walker said, cutting through their bickering before glancing over his shoulder.
She’d left the dining room and was probably back in the kitchen.
“Someone assaulted her in her home and rummaged around, looking for something. Then came back the next day and entered through a window when a deputy was stationed right out front. Maybe he’s looking for something to steal, but the return makes it likelier that it’s something specific.
The cops here are good, but they don’t have the manpower to keep her safe, so I’m staying at her place until we figure out who broke in and assaulted her. ”
“As soon as we disconnect here, I’ll head your way,” Quentin said. “The FedEx guy just delivered the equipment I needed to get her all set up.”
“Understood. So, any questions? Are we agreed on using Last Light Security as our business name?”
There were no objections, and Walker hadn’t expected any, although Hunter seemed to be uncharacteristically quiet. He’d check in with the man a bit later, after Quentin left.
Naming the ranch and their front-facing business after the movie that had basically made it all possible made sense.
If they needed to use it for publicity, they could.
Walker didn’t particularly see the need for that, but it was nice to have the option.
Plus, the locals all knew them from the movie, so that was a built-in touchstone, even if it sometimes felt a bit strange.
Serena came back into the room after he disconnected.
“So that’s your team? Lila wasn’t wrong when she said they’re all eye candy.” Her voice held a mischievous note.
“Quentin’s going to be over here in a few minutes to upgrade your security.
” He held up a hand. “Before you get cranky about how much stuff he’s bringing, it’s a good calling card for us.
It’s a great way to show people what we can do.
So please take it like the gift it is. Quentin likes doing this stuff more than he likes breathing. ”
He watched her as she weighed his words, and he was glad she’d met Quentin. He had a feeling that would factor into how much she argued.
Finally, she sighed. “Okay. I know what you’re doing is in my best interest. It’s hard for me to give up control when I’ve been in control since I walked away from my father.”
He hated the sound in her voice as she mentioned Parker and pushed away from the table and crossed to her.
“I know,” he said softly. He brushed his fingers over the abrasion on her forehead.
The swelling was completely gone, leaving a nasty scab.
“It kills me that someone did this to you,” he added.
“And I’ll do everything in my power to make sure it doesn’t happen again.
If that means being overprotective, then it means being overprotective. ”
She closed her eyes for a moment, and he saw her accept the validity of his words, and the emotion behind them. When she opened her eyes, he made the first move. He leaned down slowly, giving her time to pull away.
That simple press of mouth to mouth, warmth and heat and familiarity, set off an inferno inside him. God, he had missed this. He had missed her more than he had ever let himself admit.
She softened beneath his hands and didn’t protest when he drew her closer. Instead she leaned into him with a quiet sigh, her fingers sliding up into his hair as if they had always belonged there.
The small sound nearly undid him.
He brushed his mouth across hers again, slower this time, savoring the moment. When he traced the seam of her lips with his tongue she parted for him without hesitation, trusting and open.
Her taste rolled through him like a warm summer tide, familiar and achingly right. For a moment the world narrowed to nothing but the feel of her in his arms and the quiet certainty that this was exactly where he belonged.
Her touch, her taste, everything about her was home. A home he’d never stopped trying to find since that summer twenty years ago.
He wanted her with a fierceness he’d thought he’d left behind long ago. But now wasn’t the time or the place. Maybe after Quentin installed the security system. Maybe. Still, he allowed himself a few more moments. Allowed himself to imagine a lifetime with her.
He was taking her under, she thought dazedly.
His taste lingered, his touch branding her.
Need clenched low in her belly, made her want to climb him like a tree.
Then she felt him begin to distance himself, to disengage, his hands sliding down her arms before settling on her hips. It did nothing to cool her.
He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. “As much as I’d like to take you to bed right now, Serena, I can’t, for more than one reason.”
She wanted to close her eyes, to go back to where they’d been seconds ago. But she knew she couldn’t. “Because Quentin’s on the way,” she said with a disappointed sigh.
He nodded. “Because Quentin’s on the way.” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Doesn’t mean I won’t try to get you into bed later,” he added. His voice still held that smoky, sexy quality that had always drawn her in, now tempered with a blade of quiet humor she found she liked even more.
As a boy, Walker had been a forbidden temptation, a summer fling. The man he’d become was worth the wait.
The antique doorbell dinged, sending peals of sound through the house.
“Jesus,” Walker muttered. “He must’ve set a land-speed record.” He smiled. “I could’ve done with a little more necking.”
Serena smiled, then checked herself in an antique beveled mirror lining one section of the dining room, making sure her lipstick was still in place.
Once a PR person, always a PR person, at least to anyone outside her personal sphere.
She looked a little starry-eyed, but that was all right.
They were adults. People would figure it out if they decided to take it further, especially given their history.
Small towns had very, very long memories.
Quentin stood on the porch, a gear bag in hand, surveying the eaves and rafters of the rambling old Victorian. Serena opened the door wider. “Come on in, Quentin. Can I get you something to drink?”
He shook his head and stepped inside, already focused on the task of making her safer.
What she was going to do about Walker after Quentin left, she had no idea.