Chapter 5
Tate: Is your operation a go?
Will: Yeah. She’s all moved in and looks just like Liv. It’s kind of trippy.
Tate: Is she as good looking as your sister?
Will: I will come and get her so fast if you don’t knock it off.
Tate: No you won’t. You need me.
Tate: Has Leroy taken the bait?
Will: No bites yet.
Tate: Me neither.
Will: Don’t touch my sister.
By the time all the Walker boys made it home from their designated fields and assignments, the table had been set for dinner, and the meatloaf was coming out of the oven.
I was sitting on a chair at the table next to Tate.
Even Ben showed up to eat. Upon closer inspection, I noticed he wasn’t wearing his wedding ring, but he teased and laughed with his brothers like he still lived here.
The back door opened, and Tom Walker stepped inside. He yanked off his boots before setting them just outside the door. His eyes brightened as he took in the scene of his grown kids (and me) chatting casually at the table in the kitchen, the smell of meat and potatoes in the air.
“You didn’t need to wait for me,” he said, pulling his wife in for a hug and a kiss that moved quickly to her neck, amid her shy squeals of protest.
I looked across the table to where Jaxon sat with his fiancée, Landrie.
“I hear Jaxon snuck out of wedding duty today,” I said to the blonde beauty sitting across from me.
Landrie laughed, elbowing him good-naturedly. “As much as he would have loved debating the different shades of lilies for my bouquet, it was probably best that he stayed home.”
“You cover the flowers. I’m hard at work planning the honeymoon,” Jaxon grinned, sneaking a quick kiss on Landrie’s cheek.
She flushed happily while I tried to reconcile the fact that this beautiful woman was Ari’s little sister, the one who had always tried to tag along with Ari, Reese, and me wherever we went.
There was a quick moment of grace when Tom sat down at the table before dinner was served, family style, around the table.
It was the kind of family dinner I hadn’t had in…
forever. The kind with dishes clinking, arms reaching, and cooked green beans and bowls of salad being passed around.
The mashed potatoes soon followed before Tate plopped a slice of meatloaf onto my plate.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had meatloaf. It was homey and warm, comfort food at its finest. The exact opposite of the bagged salad and pre-cut fruit I’d been eating in my apartment.
Tate ate his meatloaf slathered in ketchup.
Ann noticed the sauce wasn’t on the table and quickly remedied the fact, setting it down right next to Tate. He smiled in thanks before he proceeded to squirt it all over the meat.
I spent the next five minutes trying not to find that strangely adorable.
“Ran over a raccoon in the baler today,” Jaxon said. “That’s going to be a fun surprise for whoever finds that bale of hay.”
Low laughter and chuckles filled the room.
“That’s not as bad as when I swathed up that skunk last year,” Luke said, taking a bite of his potatoes. “The stench on that guy lit up the inside of the swather like a juicy, hot morgue. It took weeks for that thing to air out.”
The brothers went back and forth, sharing old stories and laughs.
I loved my family, but our meals together had never looked or felt like this.
If my parents weren’t fighting, our meals were eaten around the living room with the TV on, blasting the news or an old rerun.
Or maybe over Chinese takeout after we got home from work.
If my parents were fighting, then Will and I gulped our meal down at the table before hiding out in our rooms, playing Monopoly together.
The Walker family dinner felt like something out of a 1950s TV show.
“So, what do we say when people ask why Liv’s here?”
I had been so deep in my thoughts I hadn’t realized Luke’s question was directed at us. Everyone paused in their eating to wait for an answer.
Tate, cool as a cucumber, swallowed his bite before answering, looking everybody at the table in the eye before he spoke.
“This information stays between us. Is everyone good with that?” Once the table all nodded in the affirmative, he added, “Our cover is that we’re dating.
She’s here to visit me after the shooting. ”
The room fell silent.
Luke raised his eyebrows, his eyes gleaming as they danced back and forth between us. “You don’t look like you’re dating.”
“You don’t look like you’re dating either,” Tate clipped back.
But Luke only smiled. “But aren’t you supposed to act like it?”
“When we’re out in public, sure,” Tate said, looking directly at Luke.
Luke sat back in his chair, arms folded and a look in his eyes that made me nervous. He pointed at Landrie and Jaxon, practically sitting on each other’s laps. “They look like they’re dating.”
There was a slight standoff between Tate and Luke before the corner of Tate’s mouth tipped into a smile.
Without a word, he leaned down, grabbed the leg of my chair, and dragged it closer until it bumped against his.
In an instant, my leg was pressed against his, and his left arm draped across the back of my chair.
It took all of three seconds before the warmth of his body seeped into mine.
“There. Better?” he asked Luke before taking a sip of his drink.
Luke lifted his brows at me. "You tell me, Liv. I don’t see much happening on your end.
“Luke. Leave her alone,” Tate warned.
But the challenge had been issued.
Meeting Luke’s gaze, I slowly lifted my right hand, wiggled my fingers, then let it fall onto Tate’s thigh.
His very warm.
Very muscular.
Thigh.
“How long have you been dating?” Ann asked, a small smile on her face.
Tate looked at me. “We’ll figure out the details and let you know. But the fact that I’m her bodyguard right now stays in this room. To everybody else you talk to, we’re dating, and she’s here visiting.”
The subject was changed, and the rest of the meal passed without major incident.
Tate’s body stayed pressed against mine.
Later that night, I was on the stairs heading up when Tate met me coming down. He’d cleaned up and was now wearing a nicer pair of jeans and a flannel jacket.
“I’m heading out,” he told me as he brushed past. “My dad’s in charge. Don’t go anywhere without him.”
I stopped and turned toward him. “Okay, we need to work on this whole bossiness thing.”
“What thing?” His steps slowed as he turned around, leaning his back against the wall.
“I know why I’m here, but you ordering me around like I’m still a teenager makes me want to do something crazy, like fling open the curtains in my room.”
Tate stared me down, probably trying to determine if I was truly that unhinged.
Like I was coaxing a two-year-old to apologize for biting his brother, I said, “Say it nicely.”
He drew in a deep breath as he considered me, attempting to use the silence to his intimidating advantage—a policeman tactic I knew well from Will. He was a man used to being in charge, but I only allowed Will to boss me around. I crossed my arms and stared back.
He tried again. “I’ve left my dad in charge of keeping you alive while I’m gone.”
I started to shake my head, and then there it was. That hint of humor that flashed across his face before he wiped it away. But I saw it. And like each time before, it gave me life.
“I forgot how annoying you are. Please don’t go anywhere without him,” he amended with great pain.
I brightened. “Oh, is that all you needed? I’d be happy to do that. Thank you for asking so nicely.”
His eyes were still narrowed on me when I asked, “Where are you going?”
As if he’d just found a way to get back at me, he smirked and, bounding down the stairs, he called out, “That’s classified.”
I watched him go with a pang of dread in my gut and visions of him meeting up with a woman somewhere.
I pushed it aside and reminded myself that ours was a relationship of the counterfeit variety.
He didn’t owe me anything. I’d dropped into his life out of nowhere–if he wanted to go on a date, who was I to stop him?
As long as he kept it quiet and it didn’t ruin our cover, it would have to be fine.
At least, I assumed that was what he was dressed up for.
That evening, I was tucked away in my room, pajama-clad with my hair in a messy bun. My laptop sat open, and the depressing blank screen mocked me.
I should have been typing.
Instead, I grabbed my phone.
Me: Hey, girls. It’s Liv. I’m at the Walkers. I got a new number.
Reese: Hey! Good! I’ve tried calling your old number and was getting worried.
Me: Sorry, Will got me another burner.
Ari: YAY. About time you’re here. How’s Tate?
Me: What? How did you know?
Ari: Who else would be watching you?
Me: Did you know he’d moved back?
Ari: Maybe…
Me: Ugh. Will made me think it was the whole Walker family EXCEPT Tate watching me.
Reese: This is the BEST news ever.
Ari: So…just curious…are you staying with Tate in his room…or???
Me: NO. I’m staying with the WALKER FAMILY. In a PRIVATE room next door to Tate’s. This feels like a very important distinction you both need…distinctified.
Ari: Why do I secretly love this? Not the stalking part, but everything else. Feels like old times. Feels like Reese and I were right, and you owe us an apology.
Me: Not happening.
Ari: I’m still not convinced he didn’t like you.
Reese: SAME. Guys don’t obsess over their friend’s little sister’s safety without good reason.
Me: Pretty sure he thinks I’m his sister too. There’s your reason. ANYWAY. Ari, how’s teaching and life in the land of Landrie’s wedding plans?
Ari: Teaching is…fine. The wedding plans are…fine. I’m busy at school, so I try to keep my head down as much as possible.
Me: Are there any teachers that rival the hotness of Mr. Baker?
I was convinced that every school had someone young and attractive that all the students crushed on. Back when Ari and Reese and I were in high school, Mr. Baker, teacher of chemistry and science, had been ours.
Ari: HA. No comment.
Me: Um. You always have a comment. WHAT?
Reese: Spill. Now!
Ari: NO COMMENT. Also, this is completely unrelated, but Mr. Stevenson, the principal, is no longer old, crabby Mr. Stevenson. He is now a young and very flirtatious Mr. Stevenson.
Me: As in Wade Stevenson from high school?!?!
Ari: The very same. That was an important distinction I could have used distinctified earlier as well.
Reese: WHATTTT? You’re working with Wade?!
Ari: Like I said, completely unrelated to our topic of hot teachers.
Me: Because he’s the principal? It still counts.
Ari: It’s very different.
Ari: I have to run. Did you need something?
Me: I have six weeks to write a romantic screenplay. First time for me. In an effort to get inspired, I’ve been watching some horrifically cheesy TV movies that Reese recommended. But I can’t do it. There has to be better out there, right?
Reese: HEY. They are NOT cheesy.
Ari: Bite your blasphemous tongue. Cheesy romance is TOP TIER.
Ari: Best when paired with a bad day at school and a mug of hot chocolate covered in whipped cream and a cinnamon sticky bun from Keller’s. Don’t ask me how I know.
Reese: I like to pair a movie with a crisp, cold Dr. Pepper and a maple bar from Keller’s after a long day with my roommate.
Me: I’m not sure if that’s brilliant or really sad.
Ari: Hey! We’re the experts here.
Me: That’s what I’m scared of.
Ari: Give me ten minutes. I’ll send you a list of my faves.
In the end, my old friend gave me a handful of TV movies that she claimed to have loved. I didn’t know where to begin, but I picked one at random called Romance on Purrfect Lane.
I should have stopped right there with a title like that.
My laptop called to me. My current stress level was demanding that I make progress on my script, but I was terrified to face the dreaded blank page. So, instead of writing, I fired up my laptop, snuggled into my blankets with a notepad, and told myself this was research.
It was about the time the big-city lawyer woman was forced to move from her high-powered law firm back to her small town in Connecticut to help save her family’s dying cat bakery, The Sweet Whiskery, that I began to check out.
To be clear, there was no baking of cats at this bakery, which had been my first thought, and honestly…was the only thing that held my attention. Upon further investigation, I discovered that it was a high-end, gourmet, organic, and all-natural bakery for cats.
One quick Google search later and I could confirm it was, indeed, a thing.
But it was when she ran into her ex-high school boyfriend, who owned the land the cat bakery sat on and was looking to tear down said bakery as well as the adjoining buildings to make space for the fancy condos he wanted to build, that I had to turn it off.
So, ten minutes.
That was enough research for today.
The guy wasn’t even that cute, which I thought was mandatory for this genre.