by Vivian Wood
This set off a round of giggling from Rose and Remy, while Sawyer and Colt exchanged a knowing look. They chuckled loudly.
“Well, we all know the Roman men don’t lack those charms,” Colt said, still chuckling while Rose turned a deep shade of red.
“That’s for sure!” Remy agreed. “I’ve had to endure eighteen months of pregnancy as a result of those charms.”
She gave Sawyer a pointed look, but couldn’t wipe the smile off her face.
“How about another nine months?” His hazel eyes lit up as he suggested it.
She jumped a little as she elbowed him. “Not a chance, Sawyer. Not right now, anyway. Stop talking about it!”
Sawyer sighed. He turned back to Ashleigh and Walker, nodding at Ashleigh to continue. “You were saying?”
Ashleigh flushed as all the attention returned to her.
“Oh, right. Yes. So, we’ve been talking for some time about how difficult the long distance thing has become as we've grown closer. Then, last night, he slipped out early from the bachelor party and came to find me.”
This part was partially true, at least. She grew more confident in the story as she continued to tailor the truth. Hey, at least all of this had actually happened, even if it was slightly different.
“We went back to his hotel room and talked things through last night and this morning.”
“Yeah, talked. I’m sure.” Colt smirked while Walker glowered at him.
She flinched when she saw his reaction to the insinuation that he’d done something more with her than talked.
Burn. He agrees that you are a whore, she chided herself. He’s smart, rich and sexy; he wouldn’t fuck you with someone else’s dick.
That much had become clear to her in that one scowl.
She faltered in her story. She swallowed down a lump that had formed in her throat at this realization. Everyone around the table was still looking at her expectantly.
Walker seemed to sense that she wasn’t able to continue immediately, so he surprised her by taking over.
“Yeah, we talked things through.” He emphasized the word talk again, causing the lump in her throat to grow.
“We realized that we both wanted to be together. That we needed to, even... and The Colonel gave me mom’s ring a couple of weeks ago, so I had it on me. I realized there was no one else I wanted to wear it, never had been. So I dropped to my knees and asked her to make an honest man out of me.”
He grinned, then turned to face her. His eyes were tender as he fixed them to hers and pressed a soft kiss on her forehead.
In the three sentences that he had spoken to complete the story, she’d learned three things about him:
1. He’d also gone for the tailoring the truth option, so they had at least that in common;
2. It was his mother’s ring sitting on her finger, which explained the reactions of the others. She had no idea why or what that story was about, but she was going to find out;
3. He was either being ironic by choosing the words ‘make an honest man out of me’, or just a big fat liar. Either way, it reminded her that they were in this thing together. They shared this secret, and she’d never had anyone to share anything with.
Her eyelids fluttered shut as she felt the soft pressure of his full lips on her forehead. She relaxed against his strong chest when he pulled her closer after the moment had passed.
Walker stayed glued to her side for the rest of dinner. They answered a barrage of questions together, as a united front. She did notice, however, that he was carefully avoiding all questions about her past. She couldn't blame him for hiding her former job, but...
Shame crept in, settling in a heavy ball in her stomach. It spread out through her limbs until her cheeks burned. Her appetite disappeared.
Of course he’s embarrassed of your past, her inner voice sneered. Refer to the conversation from before... He’s a decent, sexy guy from a family who dedicated their lives to defending their country. You’re a strip club waitress contributing to the perpetuation of its dark underbelly!
She fell silent. When Remy asked if she was okay, she claimed to be tired and a little overwhelmed from the events of the day. She sighed, realizing that these half-truths were going to be her life, for now.
“We’d better get going anyway, we still have to pick up the kids,” Remy said as soon as they helped clear the table.
Sawyer drained the last of his beer and nodded his agreement.
“Yeah, we’d better get going, too,” Rose added.
Colt's eyes twinkled again. It was easy to see he was the slightly naughty, fun-loving brother. It made sense, despite the slight limp that only barely hinted at the limb Ashleigh knew to be missing.
“Yeah,” Colt agreed. “We’ve gotta go practice making some kids.”
He laughed when Rose blushed and gave him a warning glare. He ignored it and pulled her into a deep kiss.
“That’s quite enough of that,” Sawyer said, and Remy laughed. “Keep it in your pants till you get home, kid,” Sawyer said with a smirk.
“Well, luckily for me, home isn’t too far away!” Colt threw back at him. “But I still can’t promise anything.” He winked. “And stop with the fucking kid thing!”
Walker stayed silent, but he seemed amused by Colt and Sawyer’s easy banter.
“Colt and Rose are our neighbors,” Walker explained to her as they headed for the door. “They’re the next house over.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Welcome to the neighborhood, Ashleigh.” Rose smiled, dragging Colt out of the house.
“Good night, lovebirds!” Colt called. “Try to keep it down with the newly engaged--"
He was cut off by Rose’s embarrassed voice. “Stop that, Colt!”
Remy shook her head at him, but exchanged a smile with Ashleigh.
“You’ll get used to it,” she assured her. “Good night. We’ll see you tomorrow, probably.”
Sawyer and Walker gave each other another quick one-armed hug. Sawyer nodded good night at her as he followed Remy out the door.
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that the Roman brothers were super close. She wondered what they would do if they ever found out that Walker was lying about being engaged...
She had no doubt that it would not be good.
“Earth to Doll!” Walker’s gentle voice broke through her thoughts. “I know they can be a bit much, but they mean well.”
She turned to him, trying for a reassuring smile.
“No, no. They’re great. They seem really friendly.”
“Yeah, they are. You ready for bed?”
“Sure, yeah. Let me just clean this up.” She motioned toward the pile of cutlery and crockery on the counter.
“We’ll load in the dishwasher in the morning. It’s been a long day. I think we can allow ourselves one little indulgence.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah, let’s do that then.” She followed him down the hallway as he flicked off the lights and led her to the bedroom.
He gave her plenty of space to wash her face, brush her teeth and change into her newly acquired sleepwear. She chose a simple tank top and shorts, changing quickly before giving up the bathroom.
When he emerged a few minutes later, he was shirtless and wearing only boxers. “You okay if I sleep in this?”
Her mouth had dried up as soon as she was confronted with his chiseled torso. The air seemed to crackle between them when he noticed her raking her eyes over his half naked body.
She squeezed her eyes shut as she reminded herself of the nature of their relationship.
“No problem,” she muttered at the same time that he said, “I’ll just go grab a shirt.”
She laughed when she realized they’d done the exact same thing they had this morning. Walker seemed equally amused, but he didn’t move.
“You sure? I don’t mind putting on a shirt.”
“I’m sure. Really.”
She ripped her unwilling eyes from the lines o
f his hard body, but not before seeing what she was sure was a hint of desire in his eyes.
He slid into bed with her, careful to keep to his side of the bed. Disappointment, however unplaced it may have been, coursed through her body. The shame she'd felt earlier took hold again.
He flipped the switch on the lamp on his bedside table, plunging the room into darkness. She heard a low sigh before his voice whispered in the darkness.
“Good night, Ashleigh.”
Her heart skipped a beat as he said her name for the first time. She’d never heard it sound more beautiful. Somehow, it made her feel like a woman, like more than just the strip club waitress she knew herself to be.
She drifted off to sleep, idly wondering if there was any universe in which she could be Ashleigh. A life in which she could leave Doll behind for real, and forever.
8
Walker gripped the wheel of the Escalade in frustration as he turned onto Roman Ranch. He’d had a shitty day in Baton Rouge, working at the recruitment center there. So he’d decided to head back after lunch and do the rest of the stuff he had to do from home.
It was more to save the other guys at the recruitment center from Walker's sour mood than anything else. It wasn't their fault he was in a bad mood.
One of the guys he’d recruited had been injured on duty. Although no one could tell him the exact extent of the injuries yet, it was bad enough that he’d received three operations over the course of two days. Walker was stressed and worried about the kid. There was no way that hanging out in Baton Rouge was going to make him feel better.
He sighed as he pulled up to his house, welcoming lights bathing the immediate surroundings in a warm glow. An unbidden grin sprung to his lips.
That was another part of his frustration.
He and Ashleigh had settled into a comfortable routine over the last near fortnight. The furniture that she had spent days choosing and ordering online had started arriving a couple of days ago.
Despite himself, he’d been surprised at how perfectly she had chosen. The style of furniture matched the design and finishings of the house to a tee. She’d been giddy with excitement to show him her purchases every afternoon when he’d come home from work. She'd asked for his opinion, arguing her own view with almost childlike glee.
He’d installed several food- and recipe-related apps on her phone as promised. She’d thrown herself into experimenting in the kitchen with an equal measure of dedication, just as she had with the furniture. She spent her days poring over her phone and reciting her latest ideas to him in the evenings. Inevitably on the following night, whichever idea he’d been most taken with would be on the table.
She was up each morning to make him breakfast in those ridiculously sexy short shorts and tank tops she slept in. She made sure to stuff his lunch in his hands before he left. It was all very domesticated, but not in an overbearing or uncomfortable way. There was no guilt, which was surprising.
Then again, there were no genuine romantic feelings between them. He wouldn't let them grow. Things would be better that way, in the long run.
She was really starting to come into her own. She became more comfortable as the days passed, that much was obvious just by looking at her.
While he’d been physically attracted to her from the get-go, his attraction to her was becoming a real pain in the ass. Well, not ass... it was a different appendage altogether that was becoming more difficult to control.
Try as he might, he found himself with a growing problem in his pants more and more.
Meanwhile, when she flitted about the house, sighed sleepily, or accidentally brushed up against him in bed...
Every single time, he got hard as a rock. There was a definite pattern developing, and he had no fuckin’ idea what to do about it.
One thing was for sure. He couldn’t ever act on it. Hell, he felt guilty for even thinking about it.
Not only because he’d promised her she’d be safe with him. He'd said that she was worth more than just her body to him. But also because he felt like he was betraying his fiancée...
Fuck, it wasn't like he’d been entirely celibate since Jenny's death, but he’d kept things casual. Occasionally he found solace in a warm body for a night. But he never took things further than that.
Hell, he never even kissed the women he slept with if he could help it.
Now here he was, sharing a bed with a beautiful, sexy woman that he couldn’t touch. He wouldn’t ‘cheat on’ Ashleigh either. If anyone found out about this whole arrangement, he would be fucked...
And then there was the fact that he didn’t really want anyone else anyway. His body craved hers in a way that it shouldn’t. It wasn't his fault that he didn’t react the same to any other girls, though.
You’re an asshole, Roman! Don’t let being horny fuck this up for you, the voice in his head ordered every day. So here he was, stuck between a rock and a hard place. Literally.
Since he couldn't touch Ashleigh, he'd reverted to self-pleasure in an attempt to ease his frustration. It had worked, at least in the short term...
But in a long-term sense, he had no idea what the hell he was going to do.
He tried to clear his mind, shaking his head at himself. He turned off the Escalade, gathered his laptop bag, and headed inside.
He expected to find her making a mess of the kitchen. She would be trying out some new recipe, or making notes from the apps on her phone at the dining room table of things she’d like to try.
Counter to expectations, though, there was no one in the kitchen.
He stilled, honing his senses. He made a quick assessment of the two empty mugs on the dining room table and the half-eaten plate of chocolate chip cookies. He listened hard, and he was able to hear a stifled sob coming from their bedroom.
He bolted down the hallway. He threw open the bedroom door, not thinking for a second to knock or even make sure she was clothed first.
He found her hunched over on the bed. Dressed, mercifully, but bawling her eyes out.
What the fuck?
He tried replaying this morning in his mind. There was nothing he could think of that he’d done to bring this on. She still didn’t really spend time with anyone else unless he was there... but then he remembered the mugs and cookies. Someone else was responsible for this.
His fists clenched, and he felt rage starting to burn up his throat at whoever that person might have been. He pushed it down, but it was very much simmering just beneath the surface. He sat down on the bed next to her, hugging her close to him.
"It's okay, sweetheart," he murmured in what he hoped was a soothing tone.
She didn't respond, though her crying did quiet a little.
He really didn't know what more to do, or how to find out who or what had caused this. He cleared his throat and went with the first thing that popped into his head.
It was a universal truth, he thought, that no man is comfortable around -- or really has any fucking idea what to do with -- a sobbing woman. He was certainly no exception to that rule. He rolled his eyes at himself, but was too worried to give it any more thought at that moment.
“What’s wrong, Ashleigh? Talk to me, darlin’. What’s going on?” He still held her against his chest, willing her to calm down against his steady heartbeat.
No such luck, though. His voice seemed to bring on a fresh bout of sobs.
"Come on, just tell me what happened," he urged her.
“Nothing,” she stammered. “It’s… I’m being silly.”
Maybe it's hormones? Walker wondered.
He remembered how emotional his fiancée could get when that time of the month came... but those two mugs convinced him otherwise. Far as he knew, you didn’t have coffee and cookies with your hormones.
“Come on, Ash.” He stroked her hair lightly and reached to tip her chin up gently toward him. “Who was here? What did they do?”
Her eyes were swollen and rimmed with red, and she looked miserable. All the l
ight that had started creeping into her eyes over the last couple of weeks had been swept away by whatever had happened.
He felt the anger bubble up again.
Fuck! Whoever was responsible for this was a dead man walking.
He’d worked so hard to make her happy. She had to like it here. She had to stay. They’d come too far for her to walk away now, just because someone else had stuck their nose into his business.
Something in his eyes caused her to sniff delicately, hesitating before she mumbled an answer. “Pastor Jim stopped by for a visit.”
Jim?
His fury was quickly replaced with confusion. The town pastor had been a friend of his since childhood. Jim was the only person that Walker had opened up to even a bit about his fiancée.
What had Jim done to elicit this response in Ashleigh? He was a kind man. Jim had found his calling early on and cared deeply for his community.
And yet, he’d come for a visit and whatever he’d said had obliterated the happiness in Ashleigh’s eyes.
“What did he do, Ash? What happened?”
“I, uh, I think he sensed something was off about me.”
The sobs had subsided as she took a deep breath, but tears were still welling up in her eyes. He could see her fighting to hold them back.
“He started asking all kinds of questions about us. About my past. He kept hammering on my parents, on where I’d come from...” She took another big gulp of air. “He got all up in my face about it, shaking his finger at me. He was telling me about how lying was a sin. He said that if I was a gold digger here to mess with you, I had no idea of the eternal damnation I would face.”
What? Jim said that? I’d heard from some other people in town that he’d become a bit melodramatic after his wife’s last miscarriage, but this is nothing short of ludicrous.
“I’m so sorry, Ash. I’ll talk to him, okay? I’ve known him a long time. Maybe he’s just taken aback by all this. This isn’t your fault, okay darlin’? You’re not lying to me, you’re not messing with me...”
He tried to think of ways he could reassure her that Jim was full of shit. Jim had no idea what was going on between them.
