“Eww. Why would you stay with him? Why did he have saggy balls? Was he old?”
“I don’t know!” I almost shout then slam a hand over my mouth. “And no. He didn’t really have saggy balls. He wasn’t old. Just… since he ended up being a lying cheat, I’m glad that I hadn’t had sex with him for a while. But honestly, it’s not like I don’t have a libido. I just wasn’t really missing out on anything with him. Now I know why he never pressured me, either. He was getting plenty on the side.”
“Well, fuck him and the horse he probably can’t even ride in on because he sounds like a pansy ass city boy. To bigger and better!” she raises her glass and I clink mine with hers then she adds, “Because I bet Walker is definitely bigger.”
We erupt into a fit of laughter before our food is brought to us and we begin to dig in. It was good timing, too. I was starting to feel far too buzzed for my liking.
“For real, though, Ellie,” Courtney says, wiping her mouth after taking a bite of rice, “you have nothing to worry about when it comes to Brooklyn Rosin. Trust me on that, okay? I guarantee you that Walker let her down gently because that’s who he is and he doesn’t know how to be mean to anyone. Although, it sounds like he’s going to have to be kind of a dick to her so she gets the point.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right. It just… she’s so pretty, Courtney. How do I even…”
“Shut up. Shut up now. You’re beautiful and wanted. I’ve never seen Walker look at anyone the way he looks at you. I’ve known him for a long time, too. Plus, if something were ever going to happen with him and Brooklyn, it would have happened already. She’s been after him for months. Trust me when I say he’s not interested. He’s only got eyes for you, girl. I know it.”
“Really? Gah—how pathetic do I sound? Seriously,” I groan. “I didn’t expect him. At all.” I chug the last bit of my margarita while Courtney signals our waiter for some water. Good idea. “You know in books when they talk about insta love?” she nods so I continue. “I hate it. I’m always rolling my eyes because who the hell falls for someone like that,” I snap my fingers. “But it’s so true. I feel like I’ve known him my entire life. He just… gets me.” I cover my face with my napkin, groaning again.
I feel movement in the booth and an arm slide around me. I rest my head on Courtney’s shoulder only it doesn’t smell like Courtney at all. I know that scent.
I shove my face into Walker’s shoulder as his other arm comes around me, wrapping me up in a hug. “I knew something was up. Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispers.
“Because I’m pathetic,” I whimper.
“You are far from pathetic. You’re beautiful. A bit of a mess at the moment, but beautiful, none the less.” He leans back, brushing the hair out of my face. I lean into his touch and he rests his forehead on mine. “I don’t want you to be afraid to tell me how you’re feeling. Brooklyn? She’s nothing to me. Not even a blip on my radar. Not when you’re all I see.”
“Really?”
“I’ve been a little afraid of being as pushy with you as I want to be. I have this insane desire to show you exactly how strong my feelings are for you but I have to hold myself back. I want to take this slow, make sure that I’m not a rebound and that our feelings are grounded.”
“How are you so perfect?”
He barks out a laugh then leans in close. “I’m so far from perfect. If you knew the dirty things rolling around in my head, you’d probably go running for the hills.”
“Try me,” I rasp.
“Don’t temp me, you little trouble causer.”
“Well, did we get this all cleared up? I’m freaking starving,” Brett says. I look over to the other side of the booth where Courtney was sitting. Both her and Brett are watching us closely, a soft smile on Courtney’s face while Brett looks like the cat who was just given the cream.
“I don’t know. Is it okay if we crash this party?” Walker asks, shifting around so his body is angled toward his friends but still looking at me.
I sigh like it’s a burden. “If you must.”
Brett and Walker order food and a couple Coronas and we sit and eat and laugh. It’s not necessarily a double date but it feels that way when we walk out of the restaurant a few hours later, Brett and Courtney climbing into his pickup while Walker and I get into his.
The ride back to Miss Polly’s is quiet and when Walker doesn’t reach for my hand, my anxiety over my overreaction to Brooklyn’s advances skyrockets.
He parks next to my car in Miss Polly’s driveway and kills the engine.
“I’m trying so hard to take things slowly like you deserve, Ellie.”
I sit quietly as he rests his head on the seat back. He’s also quiet, I assume he’s processing his thoughts and choosing his words carefully. Reaching across the console, he takes my hand in his. “You deserve so much more than a rushed romance. Do you know that? I know you’ve been hurt in the past. From the little you’ve said of them, I also know that your parents weren’t necessarily going to win any awards. I can’t change the past no matter how hard I try but I do want you to feel wanted and cherished. These feelings for you aren’t going to dwindle over time and I certainly don’t intend on letting you go any time soon. Just… I need you to trust me, okay? Let’s do this together, but slowly.”
I swallow hard, absorbing everything he just said. I want that so badly. To feel the things he wants me to feel. And dammit, he’s right. I do deserve it. Everyone does. “I’m good with that.”
He smiles, leans over and kisses me gently on the mouth, his hand sliding over my cheek into my hair. I can taste a tiny hint of beer and the Mexican food we ate underneath the mint he popped in his mouth on the way out of El Charro. It’s delicious and intoxicating. His lips are soft and full, the pressure he’s applying perfect as his tongue tangles with my own. I grip his forearm, loving how firm and strong his arms are, especially when it flexes beneath my fingers.
Too soon he pulls away, leaving me wanting so much more. My body chases his but he’s determined to do what he said he was going to do. Slowly might just kill us both but damn if it won’t be a fun way to go.
I’VE NEVER UNDERSTOOD THE TERM blue balls as much as I do right now. It’s been one month since the night of margaritas with Ellie. One. Month.
A month of stolen kisses and hand holding. Of quiet lunches together and evening walks with Brutus. Evenings are spent like we’re in high school again, texting or talking on the phone when we can’t see each other in person.
At least three or four times a week I stop at Miss Polly’s before work and we share coffee on the back patio. Sometimes we make breakfast together or I’ll stop at McDonald’s and bring it over, oddly enough it’s Miss Polly’s favorite and Ellie doesn’t complain.
I’m falling harder and harder for her and really don’t know how much longer I can handle this whole going slow thing. It’s my own fault, of course, for suggesting it. But as much as it pains me—literally—to keep it up, I’m glad we are. Everything I said to her that night was the truth. She deserves to know that I’m willing to go slow for her. That really, she’s all I need.
It’s Thursday night and as is usual lately, I run home quickly after work, shower, change, grab Brutus, and head back to Ellie’s house. I haven’t had her over to my place yet. I know once I get her alone, all bets will be off and I’m still holding steady on not pushing this thing between us.
Brutus and I walk through the door, he’s been here so often lately that Ellie bought him his own food and water dish. He barks a couple times to make his presence known and sniffs around, searching for his target.
He finds her standing in the kitchen, stirring something around in a big Dutch oven pot on the stove. She looks over her shoulder and picks up something off a cutting board and gives it to Brutus.
“I’m making jambalaya and saved a few pieces of sausage for him. I hope that’s okay.”
So sweet.
Thoughtful.
Ellie’s
the same way with Grayson. If she knows he’s going to be with me, she makes sure to cook extra food so he’s not hungry. A few times, she’s packaged the leftovers for him to take home to Willow when she’s been working extra shifts. But her thoughtfulness doesn’t end there. One day Ellie was out shopping at a local sporting goods store and found a couple t-shirts she thought Grayson would like, which he did, and picked them up for him just because. She spends extra time with Miss Polly and is learning to knit with her because it makes Miss Polly happy to have someone to knit with at home.
Even the pets at the clinic seem happier. There’s always fresh cut flowers on the counter and homemade doggy treats in the containers.
“Of course it’s okay. It smells delicious.”
She smiles at me and returns her focus on stirring the meat, rice and spice mixture. The oven timer goes off and she hands me an oven mitt. “Would you mind getting the corn bread out of the oven for me?”
“Sure thing.”
Domestic blue ball bliss. That’s what this is.
I place the warm corn bread on another oven mitt so it doesn’t scorch the countertop and spin around, watching her work. She’s so beautiful. Even after working in a vet clinic all day, her hair haphazardly thrown up in a messy bun on top of her head and wearing a baggy t-shirt and leggings.
“Ellie?”
“Hmm?”
“Can I tell you something?”
“Is everything okay?” she asks, worry in her voice.
“Yes.”
“What is it?”
“You’re beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she says quietly. If I had told her that six weeks ago, she would have thought I was lying so I could get her to bend to my will about something. Those two words, her simply thanking me for that shows a level of trust I wasn’t sure I would ever get from her.
“I mean it, Ellie,” I say, pushing off the counter to stand next to her. I take the spoon out of her hand and lay it on the spoon rest on the stove. Taking her in my arms, I kiss her on the lips, lingering a touch longer than normal. “Sometimes when I’m around you, I’m speechless. Your beauty takes my breath away.”
“Walker,” she sighs happily.
“I want you to always remember that. You’re so beautiful to me.”
“You’re not so bad yourself, handsome.”
I grin and pretend to be embarrassed. “Aww shucks.”
After we eat dinner with Miss Polly, the two of us go into the backyard so Brutus can roll around outside, his favorite after dinner pastime.
“Sit with me, Ellie girl,” I tell her, resting against the back of the swing, my arm going around her as soon as she cozies up next to me.
She tucks her legs under her and slides an arm around my stomach, nestling in close. Hopefully she doesn’t graze any farther south or she’ll get a hell of a surprise. She’s so sexy, fits so perfectly in my arms. I let my hand settle on her leg, trying hard to keep it at a safe spot but I can’t stop my thumb from rubbing against the thin material of her leggings.
Ellie turns her face up to look at me and I bend low, kissing her gently. My tongue glides along the seam of her mouth and she opens for me. The kiss is sweet and gentle and full of so much promise. My hand is still on her leg but my determination has slipped, allowing my hand to slip closer to where I so badly want to be.
She withdraws her mouth from mine just a breath away and says, “I’m not going to handle slow much longer.” I don’t have time to respond before she presses her lips against mine again.
Yeah. I couldn’t agree with her more.
I CAN’T SLEEP. MY BODY is on fire, remembering the way Walker’s lips felt pressed against mine, his strong hand wrapped around my leg, his fingers threaded through my own. It’s not lost on me that he’s the exact opposite of every single man I’ve dated, or been engaged to, before him. I don’t know what that says about me, that I didn’t even know the type of man I was truly attracted to until I met Walker. Maybe it wasn’t a type that I had wrong.
It was the guy.
He’s everything I never knew I wanted or needed in a man. Before Walker, I never felt like I needed a man to feel complete. When I was with Michael, it was more about filling a void in my life that was left by parents who never gave a shit. With Gary, it was about being pursued in a way that made me feel needed. A part of me knew why he wanted to marry me but I lied to myself until I believed he wanted me more than his inheritance.
I flip over, tucking my arm under my pillow and squeeze my eyes shut, willing sleep to come but the ache that’s forming between my legs is a reminder the sandman is nowhere close by.
It’s well after midnight and it’s like my adrenaline got another boost. Even my legs feel restless.
I flip back over and kick off the covers, lying in the center of my bed with my arms and legs spread wide. My eyes drift to the top drawer of my dresser. All those toys Walker got a real good look at when he was helping me pack up are taunting me. I glance at my door. It’s not that I’m afraid Miss Polly would come in and catch me, or that I’d be too loud and she would hear. There’s something else stopping me from doing a little diddle-diddle-doo to help me sleep but I don’t know what it is.
Sighing, I stand up out of bed and glare at the mattress, like it’s at fault for not sending me into a peaceful slumber. Maybe I just need some fresh air, clear my head a little bit.
Grabbing my phone off the night stand in case I decide I want to play a mindless game or listen to music, I throw on a long tan cardigan that reaches my knees, slide my feet into a pair of slippers, and make my way outside to the back patio.
Settling in on the porch swing, I tuck my legs against my chest and gaze up at the stars and sliver of moon that’s shining down. I take a deep breath, letting the cool night air fill my lungs.
As beautiful as it is out here, it’s not the same as at the Sanders’s farm. The wide open space made me feel more free than ever before. Even with the ever present hint of manure, I could see myself settling down somewhere like that.
I spend about an hour outside before I realize that it’s not helping either and decide to go back inside. Before I climb the stairs to my room, I stop in the kitchen for a glass of water. As I ascend the stairs, my phone chimes, stopping me in my tracks.
My heart rate picks up and I don’t have to look at the screen to know it’s Walker.
I quickly shut myself inside my bedroom and quietly click the lock, turning my phone to silent.
Walker: I can’t stop thinking of you.
Six words. Completely honest and vulnerable.
Me: Same. I haven’t been able to sleep.
I reply, deciding it’s time for the truth.
Walker: What are you thinking about?
Me: Your lips when you kissed me. The feel of your hand on my thigh.
Walker: Interesting. That’s what I’m thinking about too.
Me: Are we crazy?
Walker: No.
Me: You sure about that?
Walker: You’re worried that it’s too soon.
It’s not a question and he’s right. I am. I was going to marry another man just a few months ago. I was moments away from devoting my entire life to him and yet…when I think of it I don’t even feel a shred of sadness for what never happened.
Walker: It’s not too soon.
Me: How are you so sure?
Walker: What did I tell you in the 90’s porn bedroom?
Me: Rearview mirror?
Walker: Exactly. I saw the look on your face when we were at Gary’s house. You convinced yourself he was right for you and the minute you saw him, you knew it wasn’t true. Months from now won’t change the fact that a part of you was happy you walked in on him the day of your wedding.
I suck in a breath because he’s right. When I was lashing out on his stuff, it was because I was mad at myself, not him. When I was crying in Miss Polly’s arms, it was sadness over my choices—not his.
Me: Get out of my head, M
ac.
Walker: Mac, huh? You nicknaming me already?
Me: Maybe. Why? You don’t like it?
Walker: You can call me anything you like… babe.
Me: Terms of endearment guy, huh?
Walker: I am now. It just feels—right, I guess.
Me: I accept this explanation.
Walker: So… you couldn’t sleep because you were thinking of how amazing my hand felt on your leg and you couldn’t stop from thinking how they would feel all over your body, huh?
I blush but can’t stop my hand from drifting down, settling on my stomach. I quickly look at the drawer again before resting my head against the headboard.
Walker: Did I scare you off?
Me: No. It’s just a little unnerving how well you seem to know me.
Walker: Go get that vibrator you can’t stop staring at.
Me: Stop reading my mind.
Walker: Go get it, Ellie.
Instead of looking at the drawer, I rush over, whip it open and grab the bright pink toy out from under the underwear I stashed it under. Not that Miss Polly would ever be digging around in my stuff but it made me feel a little safer.
My phone buzzes again and I look down at it, my breath hitching in my throat. He’s not texting me. He’s calling me.
“Hi,” I say a bit breathless.
“Before you climb back into bed, strip down,” he tells me by way of saying hello. His voice is low and husky and I’m practically panting already.
“How do you know I wasn’t already naked?”
“I know. Now, shimmy those beautiful legs out of your pajamas and lay down on the mattress for me. Don’t cover yourself up.”
I do as he’s telling me, even though I have no idea why I’m obeying. But if the heat going through my veins is anything to go by, it’s turning me on. Big time.
“Are you ready?”
“Are we really doing this?”
“This as in…” his voice drifts off like he’s daring me to say the words out loud.
I gather up all my courage. “Phone sex?”
He replies instantly. “Yes. Now, I’m only going to ask once more before I climb in my pickup and drive over to Miss Polly’s to spank your ass for not answering my question. Are. You. Ready?”
All I Need Page 16
