Walker Bride

by Bernadette Marie

  “They don’t judge him,” Pearl defended.

  “I know. It’s just a lot to take in. We had a good upbringing. Our parents loved us and never did we think he wasn’t their son.”

  “You don’t have to be born to people to be their child.”

  “I think that’s the only thing that keeps him calm about it. He was close to our dad. He took it hard when he died, but he promised to carry on in his footsteps, which is why he puts up with my grandfather. And my mom feels horrible for never telling him.”

  “They didn’t see a reason to.”

  “But that might have been wrong too.” Lydia sipped from her glass. “It makes you think, though. What else in your life isn’t like you think it is?”

  Pearl filled up her glass and took a strawberry. What would Lydia think if she told her about sleeping with her brother—their business partner?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sunshine filled the bedroom by the time Pearl opened her eyes. Her head throbbed from the amount of champagne and wine she and Lydia had consumed the night before.

  But it was time to celebrate. They had the keys and the plans to a fantastic building. Pearl’s new store was going to be brilliant. She couldn’t wait to go in and just stand in the space with her designer.

  Lydia’s enthusiasm was equally contagious. Pearl had only ever invested in her own business. But to know that she would own the building where others would thrive in their businesses too, that gave her a giddy little kick.

  She wondered if Lydia was always this excited over business deals. Did she celebrate every adventure with champagne and was she still asleep on the couch?

  Pearl managed to land her feet on the floor, pull on her robe, and stand. She stood there a moment gaining her balance before she started downstairs.

  The smell of coffee filled the air, and she quietly thanked God that Lydia had the sense to make some.

  She walked into the quiet kitchen, looked at the clock. It was one o’clock in the afternoon. How had that happened?

  Pearl took down a mug, poured herself a cup of coffee, and walked into the living room.

  The blanket Lydia had used was folded nicely with the pillow set atop of it. But instead of Lydia sitting on the couch watching a movie on her TV, there sat Tyson.

  “Ah, you’re awake,” he winked at her as he turned off the TV with the remote.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Lydia called and asked for a ride to my mom’s. She said she was severely drunk and not able to drive.”

  “When did she call you?” Pearl winced at the volume of her own voice.

  “About six o’clock this morning.”

  “And you came back here and let yourself in?”

  He grinned. “Do you mind?”

  “No,” she replied softly. She sipped her coffee and let it steady her a bit more. “I told her she didn’t have to go anywhere. She was welcome to stay all day. I had nothing going on.”

  Tyson stood and moved to her. “Damn you are sexy when you’re hungover.”

  She growled. “I feel like crap.”

  “And I thought I drank a lot last night,” he chuckled as he brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes.

  “The bachelor party?”

  “More like my pity party,” he confessed as he ran his hand down her arm. “I didn’t stay long at Eric’s. Smythe and I headed back to my barn and did quite a job on my beer collection.”

  His hand slid down until it reached her hand and he interlaced their fingers. It was intimate, and it sent a tingle surging through her.

  “Why were you having a pity party?” she asked.

  “I just don’t belong yet. They were cordial,” he quickly added. “But…”

  “You’re a Morgan.”

  “I’m a Morgan,” he confirmed. “In time, it’ll be entirely normal.”

  “Not every Walker thinks you don’t belong.”

  He locked eyes with her. “Any one of them in particular?”

  Pearl swallowed hard. “I think you belong—with me.”

  Swiftly he moved in and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer as she held her coffee mug out to the side to keep it from spilling.

  “That means a lot.”

  “I should brush my teeth,” she said lowering her head.

  “I don’t mind. I could look at you all day, just as you are.”

  Pearl bit down on her lip. “Isn’t it kind of risky for you to be here if Lydia is in town too?”

  He winked. “Her car is here. I think we have some time.”

  She wrapped her free arm around his neck. “I could use a shower.”

  A smile spread wide on his lips. “I could use one too,” he said as he pressed his mouth to hers.

  ~*~

  A devious smile permeated his lips as he drove out to his mother’s house for dinner. He’d managed to spend the entire day entangled in Pearl’s arms, and it had been worth the minute chance of getting caught by his sister.

  They’d showered, wandered into the bedroom, made their way to the couch, and into the kitchen. Clothes were certainly optional all day, and that had been only one bonus, he thought.

  He needed just to tell Lydia he was seeing Pearl. What would it hurt really?

  Then his conscience kicked in. She’d asked him not to. She’d made it a point to say she didn’t like the idea, and he’d chosen his sister over Pearl—or so he’d told her.

  Hell, he was no better than his parents at lying.

  He could feel the heat rise on the back of his neck.

  The flash of him sitting with his sister, telling her that she was his family, and he’d always choose her, stirred in his mind. He’d had no intentions of keeping that promise, so why had he made it?

  The windows were open at his mother’s house. She always did love fresh air. Even in the winter, she’d keep her windows open the littlest bit.

  He parked his truck and climbed out as his mother opened the front door.

  “I could get used to you coming to town more often. Driving out to your place wreaks havoc on my paint job.”

  “I think I’ll be coming around more,” he said hoping she didn’t read anything into it. “I’ve thought maybe it’s time for me to leave the house anyway.”

  “You’re plenty old enough to make that decision. In fact, to put my two cents worth in, you should have moved out when you were twenty. Your grandfather has just been keeping you under thumb.”

  “Thanks, Mom. I know that.”

  “I’m just making conversation,” she continued as he walked up the step and kissed her on the cheek. “You smell good. A little flowery, but…” She winked.

  “Don’t read into that,” he warned as he walked into the house.

  But the little hum that followed him let him know she wasn’t going to let that down.

  “Where is Lydia?”

  “Oh, she’s around. She slept in pretty late. Guess she had a good night.”

  “I think she and Pearl were celebrating.”

  Her mother’s lips puckered. “Do you think her going into business with a Walker is a good thing?”

  “Nothing wrong with it, Mom.”

  “I know, but there’s bad blood there.”

  “Not anymore. Don’t forget, I’m blood with a Walker too.”

  She huffed out a breath, which meant she didn’t want to go down that road.

  He walked to her kitchen and pulled a bottle of water from the refrigerator. “I think this Walker/Morgan thing is old news anyway. I’m a partner in her business too. I don’t question it.”

  “I know. You’ve got a good business mind too.”

  That was a compliment he was proud of, especially coming from his mother, whom he considered one of the smartest business women he’d ever known.

  Lydia walked through the kitchen in a pair of her mother’s sweatpants and a Victoria’s Secret PINK shirt. His mother was obsessed with the brand though he thought she was much too old for it.<
br />
  Since Lydia wore her hair short, it didn’t even look disheveled where she’d run her fingers through it so many times.

  “Thanks for coming to get me,” she said with a yawn.

  “I’m sure Pearl wouldn’t have minded you hanging out all day.”

  “I’m sure too, but Mom and I had some business to discuss.” She exchanged glances with their mother.

  “However, she slept through most of it.”

  Lydia shrugged. “It’s a good year all around for me.”

  Tyson watched as both women smiled. This was how they communicated. He wished his father was still alive so he might have someone to keep secrets with as well. Of course, he wasn’t sure he still would share the secret of Pearl.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on then?”

  Lydia sat down in one of the kitchen chairs and rested her head in her hands. “I’m buying Mom out of the Garden Room,” she said with a yawn.

  He turned to his mother. “You haven’t had that more than a year. Why are you selling it?” Then he turned to his sister. “And you needed me for your last business deal. How can you buy her out? And why are you?”

  His mother’s cheeks pinked. “Lydia doesn’t think it’s wise for me to get involved with my business partners.”

  “She’s made that clear enough,” he said, then wishing he hadn’t. “I didn’t realize you had a business partner. Other than Lydia.”

  That was when his mother rubbed her hands together, for show, and he noticed the new piece of jewelry dominating her left ring finger.

  “What is that?” He pointed to her.

  Her eyes opened wide, and she smiled wide. “Oh, look at that. A big beautiful ring.” She looked down at it.

  “Mom, what’s going on? You certainly aren’t getting married are you? And who is it? I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone. Your track record after dad hasn’t been stellar.”

  Lydia stood, took a moment to balance, and then took his bottle of water out of his hands and sipped from it. “You should get out more. She’s been seeing Les for a year now. You haven’t bothered to notice.”

  “I’ve had a few dramas in my life in the last year,” he quipped.

  His mother stomped her foot as she would when she was irritated. “Now you two stop it. We are all grown adults here. I have a nice man in my life, and he wants to marry me. I said yes.”

  It stung. He should have known she was seeing someone. He should have met him. He should have given his blessing.

  Lydia had spun this so that it was his fault too. That didn’t sit well either.

  “I want to meet him,” he demanded.

  “You will. At dinner tonight.”

  “Tonight?”

  His mother pursed her lips. “Did you have other plans? Maybe it has something to do with that floral smell on your clothes.” When his mother wanted to fight nasty, she could. He’d always figured that was how she’d stayed sane living under the same roof as his grandfather, even after his father had died. It also gave her a great advantage in business.

  Lydia moved in closer and sniffed his clothes. “I don’t smell it.”

  If he let out a sigh of relief, he’d be caught. “That’s because she doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” he lied. “I’ll be at dinner. Where and when?”

  His mother lifted one brow, and that had meant she’d won this battle. Was there anything more uncomfortable than meeting a man who already wanted to marry his mother?

  He caught Lydia’s scrutinizing eye. Yes, he thought. Lying to his sister made him very uncomfortable.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Having spent the afternoon with Tyson had been an amazing treat, but now Pearl was hurrying to get ready and look presentable. She hadn’t planned on a day wrapped in his arms, drowning in his kisses, ignited by his touch. She’d planned on working on her new location, which included dinner plans.

  She’d been in this position one too many times, she thought as she checked herself in the mirror. A man comes along and suddenly focus on what was important got lost.

  This new location was going to be twice the size with twice the inventory. It was going to take a lot more to make a living, not to mention that she was now partially responsible for the entire building. There wasn’t going to be anyone to call when the roof leaked or toilet backed up. It would be on her head now, and of course, Lydia and Tyson’s too.

  But regardless, she’d be one of the people making the phone calls to get things fixed, and she’d be one of the people paying for the repairs.

  The very thought had her stopping to take a long, deep breath. Why did she nearly hyperventilate every time she thought about it?

  When the doorbell rang, Pearl looked at her watch. The man was prompt, as always.

  She hurried to the door and pulled it open. Standing on the front step was Donald Jefferson looking very handsome and put together in what she could only assume was a custom suit.

  “I could set my watch by your promptness,” she said taking his hand and pulling him through the front door.

  “Time is money.”

  “You’ve always said. So why do you set up dinner dates?”

  “One has to eat, right?” His held his hands up in gesture then gave her a wink.

  His blond hair had more product in it than hers did. His eyebrows were more groomed. His attire was classier than the restaurant he’d chosen, but she knew for a fact the man had a crush on the maître d’, and that was why he’d suggested it.

  “I have some great drawings for you to look at,” he beamed. “So let’s go so I can show you my designs.”

  “I have a budget.”

  He let out a deflated breath. “Your mother would never tell me that.”

  “My mother would somehow steal money from my trust fund to pay you.”

  “She does have good taste,” he chuckled as he opened the front door.

  All Pearl could do was shake her head. Yes, her mother’s taste in everything had always been exquisite.

  As Pearl closed the door and locked it, she noticed that Lydia’s car was gone. A small pain shot through her chest. Tyson had to have dropped her off, yet neither of them stopped to say hello—or goodbye.

  It wasn’t worth getting upset about. She knew how things were. It had only been a week of involvement with Tyson. She couldn’t expect him to check in with her all the time. And again, there came the disappointment with getting involved.

  ~*~

  Tyson pulled up in front of the restaurant cursing the fact that he’d even agreed to show up.

  His mother should have told him she was seeing someone. There were responsibilities when you had children. It didn’t matter if she was nearly seventy years old. She should have told him.

  Tyson parked his truck and sat in its quiet for a moment. He couldn’t blame his mother. Tyson had been a real ass with his attitude about heading into town for years. There were sometimes weeks, maybe even months, when he hadn’t even driven to town. He was more comfortable wallowing in his solidarity in his barn.

  Then there was the fact that he too had his own secret.

  An open mind was needed when he walked into that restaurant. His mother deserved her happiness. And he deserved his.

  It might be just the right opportunity to mention that he was seeing Pearl. In fact, he’d been interested in Pearl for a long time, so maybe it was a little more in depth than interest.

  Just because his mother didn’t mix business and personal feelings didn’t mean he couldn’t. It wasn’t as if he was going to spend all day in their wedding mecca. In fact, he didn’t even care if he ever got his money back for the investment. He’d have given the money to Lydia no matter what.

  He climbed out of his truck, and his step was light as he walked toward the restaurant.

  As he walked inside, he noticed Lydia right away. She waved him toward the table where she sat with their mother, and a man whom he could only assume was Les, the man his mother was goin
g to marry.

  The last time he was nervous was the morning he walked into Pearl’s store. The butterflies that were attacking his stomach were nearly equal to the moment Pearl ran her hand over his body while measuring him for the tux.

  The man stood as he approached. That was a good sign, he thought.

  Tyson walked directly to his mother and kissed her on the cheek.

  “Oh, you’re right on time. I’m glad you joined us,” she said as if he were given a choice.

  Tyson kissed her on the cheek. “Of course, I’m here.”

  His mother reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Tyson, this is Les Watson, my fiancé.”

  The man next to her held his hand out to Tyson. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I have heard a lot about you,” Les offered.

  Tyson shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.” He certainly couldn’t offer the same pleasantries as he’d only heard of the man earlier that morning.

  As he released Les’s hand, he pulled out the chair situated between his mother and his sister. Before he took his seat, he gave his sister a gentle squeeze on the shoulder.

  Tyson ordered a beer and a steak then sat back and listened to wedding banter. It seemed to be a theme in his life right now.

  A half hour later, he’d decided that he enjoyed the man his mother had chosen. He wasn’t sure if that was the man himself, or the look in his mother’s eyes when she looked at him.

  “I think I’ll stop into that little bridal shop of Pearl Walker’s,” his mother said as she sipped her wine. “Lydia speaks highly of her.”

  His sister grinned. “She’s the best at what she does,” she said. “Mom doesn’t want anything traditional. Pearl has an excellent selection non-traditional. Just classy.”

  Tyson only nodded.

  His mother patted his hand. “I’m going to ask Susan, Eric’s fiancé, to cater at the wedding.”

  “I can’t see that you’ll be disappointed,” he said.

  “I know, this must bore you,” she smiled at him.

  “Are you buying my dinner?”