“And?” she asked, as if she really didn’t know.
He slid his pants down muscular thighs. “And—” he crooked his finger “—come here a minute.”
He stood there stark naked. She couldn’t help licking her lips as her gaze moved from his eyes downward, past his chest to the thatch of dark hair covering his erection. “Before or after I take off my clothes?” she asked.
“Before. I want to undress you.”
At that moment she didn’t care that she’d just finished putting on her clothes. From the look in his eyes, he was interested in more than just taking off her clothes.
Drawing in a deep breath and trying to ignore the throb between her legs, she crossed the room on wobbly knees. Was she imagining things or was his erection expanding with each step she took? When she stopped in front of him, he placed both hands on her shoulders. She felt the heat of his touch through her blouse.
“You look good in this outfit,” he said, holding fast to her shoulders as his gaze raked over her.
“Thanks.” It was just a skirt and blouse. Nothing spectacular.
“You’re welcome.” Then he captured her lips with his.
Her last coherent thought was But this kiss is spectacular.
* * *
Walker was convinced, and had been for some time, that Bailey was what fantasies were made of. What he’d told her was the truth. She looked good in that outfit. Truth be told, she looked good in any outfit...especially in his shirts. Those were the times he felt most possessive, territorial, crazy with lust...and love. All the things that she’d once stated were total turnoffs for her.
He continued kissing her, moving his mouth over her lips with a hunger he felt all the way to his toes. He had wanted this kiss to arouse her, get her ready for what was to come. He figured she knew his motives because of the way she was responding. Their tongues tangled madly, greedily, as hot and intense as it could get.
His hands left her shoulders and cupped her backside, pressing her body against his. There was no way she didn’t feel his erection pressing against the juncture of her thighs.
He’d watched her crossing the room and noticed her gaze shifting from his face to his groin, checking him out. He really didn’t know why. Nothing about that part of his body had changed. She had cupped it, taken it into her mouth and fondled it. So what had she found so fascinating about it today?
As if she’d guessed his thoughts, she glanced up to meet his eyes just seconds before reaching him. The tint that darkened her cheeks had been priceless, and instead of stripping her clothes off like he’d intended, he kissed her. He’d overplayed his hand with Bailey. This young woman had done what no other could have done. She was on the verge of making him whole. Making him want to believe in love all over again. Restoring his soul to what it had been before Kalyn had destroyed it.
He slowly broke off the kiss. His hands returned to her shoulders only long enough to remove her blouse and unhook her bra. And then he tugged her skirt and panties down past her hips and legs to pool at her feet. He looked his fill. Now he understood her earlier fascination with him because he was experiencing the same fascination now.
Yes, he’d seen it all before. Had tasted and touched every single inch. But still, looking at her naked body almost took his breath away. She was beautiful. His body ached for her in a way it had never ached for another woman...including Kalyn.
That realization had him lifting her into his arms, carrying her to the bed. He placed her on it and joined her there. He had intended to go slow, to savor each moment as long as he could. But she had other ideas.
When they stretched out together on the huge bed, her mouth went for his and kissed him hungrily. The same way he’d kissed her moments ago. The only difference was that her hands were everywhere, touching, exploring and stroking. He joined in with his own hands, frenzied with the need to touch her and let his mouth follow. She squirmed against him, biting his shoulders a few times and licking his chest, trying to work her mouth downward. But he beat her to the punch. She released a gasp when he tightened his hold on her hips and lowered his head between her legs.
He’d only intended to lick her a few times, but her taste made that impossible. He wanted more, needed more, and he was determined to get everything he wanted.
He heard her moans, felt her nails dig deep into his shoulders. He knew the moment her pleasure came, when she was consumed in an orgasm that had her writhing beneath his mouth.
Lust ripped through him, triggered by her moans. He had to be inside her now. Easing his body over hers, their gazes held as he slowly entered her. It took all his strength not to explode right when she arched her back and lifted her hips to receive every last inch of him. She entwined her arms around his neck and then, in a surprise move, she leaned up slightly and traced his lips with the tip of her tongue.
Something snapped inside him and he began thrusting in and out of her, going deeper with every downward plunge. Over and over, he fine-tuned the rhythm, whipping up sensation after exquisite sensation.
“Walker!”
When she screamed his name, the same earthshaking orgasm that overtook her did the same to him. A fierce growl escaped his lips when he felt her inner muscles clench him, trying to hold him inside.
This was how it was supposed to be. Giving instead of taking. Sharing instead of just being a recipient.
When their bodies had gone limp, he found the strength to ease off her and pull her into his arms, needing to hold her close to his heart. A part of him wished they could remain like that forever, but he knew they couldn’t. Time was not on their side.
He knew her rules, especially the one about staying in Westmoreland Country. And he knew the promise he’d made to his father, about never taking Hemlock Row for granted again. That meant that even if Bailey agreed to a long-term affair, there would be no compromise on either of their parts.
Even so, he was determined to stock up on all the memories he could.
* * *
“Charm called.”
Bailey’s body felt weak as water but somehow she managed to open her eyes and meet Walker’s gaze. She was convinced the man had more stamina than a bull. And wasn’t she seven years younger? He should be flat on his back barely able to move...like her.
She found the strength to draw in a slow breath. Evidently he was telling her this for a reason and there was only one way to find out what it was. “And?”
“And she asked me to bring you to Fairbanks this weekend. Let me rephrase that. She kind of ordered me to.”
Bailey couldn’t help but chuckle. “Ordered. I didn’t think anyone had the nerve to order you to do anything.”
“Charm thinks she can. She considers me one of her brothers and she thinks she can wrap all of us around her finger. Like you do with your brothers and cousins.”
That got another chuckle from her. “I don’t know about that anymore.” When he eased down beside her, she snuggled against him. “So are you going to do it? Are you going to take me to Fairbanks?”
He looked over at her. “I thought you didn’t want to have anything to do with the Outlaws.”
“I never said that. I just didn’t like how they handled their business by sending you to Denver instead of coming themselves.” Reaching up, she entwined her arms around his neck. “But I’m over that now. If they hadn’t sent you, then we would not have met.”
She grimaced at the thought of that, and for the first time since meeting Walker she decided the Outlaws had definitely done her a favor. Even if he didn’t love her, she now knew how it felt to fall in love with someone. To give that person your whole heart and soul. To be willing to do things you never thought you would do.
Now she understood her sisters. She’d always thought Megan and Gemma were plumb loco to consider living anywhere other than Westmo
reland Country. Megan not so much, since she stayed in Westmoreland Country six months out of the year and spent the other six months in Rico’s hometown of Philly. But Gemma had made Australia her permanent home and only returned to Denver to visit on occasion. Megan and Gemma had chosen love over everything else. They knew home was where the heart was. Now Bailey did, too.
“You’ve gotten quiet on me.”
She glanced over at Walker and smiled. “Only because you haven’t answered my question. So are you going to take me to Fairbanks?” She knew that was a big request to make, because he’d mentioned once that he rarely left his ranch.
She could tell he was considering it and then he said, “Only if you go somewhere with me tomorrow.”
She lifted a brow. “Where?”
He pulled her closer. “You’ll know when we get there.”
She stared at him silently, mulling over his request. She was curious, but she knew she would follow him to the ends of the earth if he asked her to. “Yes, I will go with you tomorrow.”
Fourteen
The next morning Walker woke up with a heavy heart, pretty much like he’d done for the past ten years. It was Connor’s birthday. In the past he’d spent the day alone. Even Garth knew not to bother him on that anniversary. Yet Bailey was here, and of all things he had asked her to go to Connor’s grave with him, although she had no idea where they were headed.
“You’re still not going to give me a hint?” Bailey asked when he placed his Stetson on his head and then led her outside. Bundled up in her coat, boots, scarf and a Denver Broncos knitted cap, she smiled over at him. Snow covered the ground but wasn’t as deep as yesterday.
He shook his head. “Don’t waste your smile. You’ll know when we get there.” She had tried to get him to tell her last night and again this morning, but he wouldn’t share. He had thoroughly enjoyed her seductive efforts, though.
“I didn’t know you were so mean, Walker.”
“And I’ve always known you were persistent, Bailey. Come on,” he said, taking her gloved hand to lead her toward one of his detached garages. When he raised the door she got a peek of what was inside and almost knocked him down rushing past him.
“Wow! These babies are beauties,” she said, checking out the two sleek, black-and-silver snowmobiles parked beside one of his tractors. “Are they yours?”
He nodded, leaning against the tractor. “Yes, mine and Garth’s. He likes to keep his here to use whenever he comes to visit. But today, this will be our transportation to get where we’re going.”
“Really?” she gasped excitedly, nearly jumping up and down.
Walker couldn’t ignore the contentment he felt knowing he was the one responsible for her enthusiasm. “Yes. You get to use Garth’s. I asked his permission for you to do so. He figures any woman who can shoot a grizzly from one hundred feet away should certainly know how to operate one of these.”
Bailey laughed. “It wasn’t exactly a hundred feet away and yes, I can operate one of these. Riley has one. He loves going skiing and takes it with him when he does. None of us can understand it, but he loves cold weather. The colder the better.”
Walker opened a wooden box and pulled out two visored helmets and handed her one. “Where we’re going isn’t far from here.”
She looked up at him as she placed her helmet on her head. “And you still won’t give me a hint?”
“No, not even a little one.”
* * *
Of all the places Bailey figured they might end up, a cemetery wasn’t even on her list. When they had brought the snowmobiles to a stop by a wooden gate she had to blink to make sure she wasn’t imagining things.
Instead of asking Walker why they were there, she followed his lead and got off the machine. She watched as he opened a box connected to his snowmobile and pulled out a small broom. He then took her gloved hand in his. “This way.”
Walking through snow, he led her through the opening of the small cemetery containing several headstones. They stopped in front of the first pair. “My grandparents,” he said softly, releasing her hand to lean down and brush away the snow that covered the names. Walker and Lora Rafferty.
She glanced up at him. “You were named after your grandfather?”
He nodded. “Yes. And my father.”
“So you’re the third?”
He nodded again. “Yes, I’m the third. My grandfather was in the military, stationed in Fairbanks, and was sent here to the island one summer with other troops to work on a government project for a year. He fell in love with the island. He also fell in love with a young island girl he met here.”
“The woman who could trace her family back to Alaska when it was owned by Russia?” Bailey asked, letting him know she remembered what he’d told her about his grandparents that first day they’d met.
A smile touched one corner of his mouth. “Yes, she’s the one. They married and he bought over a thousand acres through the government land grant. He and Lora settled here and named their property Hemlock Row, after the rows of trees that are abundant on the island. They only had one child. My father.”
They then moved to the second pair of headstones and she guessed this was where his parents were buried. Walker and Darlene Rafferty. And the one thing she noticed was that they had died within six months of each other.
She didn’t want to ask but had to. “How did they die?”
At first she wasn’t sure he would answer, but then his voice caught in the icy wind when he said, “Mom got sick. By the time the doctors found out it was cancer there was nothing that could be done. She loved Hemlock Row and wanted to take her last breath here. So we checked her out of the hospital and brought her home. She died less than a week later.”
Bailey studied the date on the headstone. “You were here when she died?”
“Yes.”
She did quick calculations in her head. Walker had lost his wife and son three months before he’d lost his mother and subsequently his father. He had fled Hollywood to come here to find peace from his grief only to face even more heartache when he’d arrived home. No wonder he’d shut himself off from the world and become a loner. He had lost the four people he’d loved the most within a year’s time.
She noticed his hold on her hand tightened when he said, “Dad basically died of a broken heart. He missed Mom that much. Six months. I’m surprised he lasted without her that long. She was his heart, and I guess he figured that without her he didn’t need one.”
Bailey swallowed. She remembered Ramsey telling her that at least their parents had died together. He couldn’t imagine one living without the other. Like Walker’s, her parents had had a very close marriage.
“My father was a good one,” Walker said, breaking into her thoughts. “The best. He loved Hemlock Row, and when I was a teenager he made me promise to always take care of it and keep it in the family and never sell it. I made him a promise to honor his wishes.”
She nodded and recalled hearing her father and uncle had made their father and grandfathers the same such promises. That was why her family considered Westmoreland Country their home. It had been land passed to them from generation to generation. Land their great-grandfather Raphel had worked hard to own and even harder to maintain.
Walker shifted and they moved toward the next headstone. She knew before he brushed the snow off the marker who it belonged to. His son. Connor Andrew Rafferty.
From the dates on the headstone, he’d died four days after his first birthday, which would have been...today. She quickly glanced over at the man standing beside her, still holding her hand as he stood staring at the headstone with a solemn look on his face. Today was his son’s birthday. Connor would have been eleven today.
There were no words Bailey could say because at that moment she could actually feel Walker’s pai
n. His grief was still raw and she could tell it hadn’t yet healed. So she did the only thing she could do. She leaned into him. Instead of rejecting her gesture, he placed his arms around her waist and gently drew her against his side.
They stood there together, silently gazing at the headstone. She was certain his mind was filled with memories of the son he’d lost. Long minutes passed before Walker finally spoke. “He was a good kid. Learned to walk at ten months. And he loved playing hide-and-seek.”
Bailey forced a smile through the tears she tried to hold back. She bet he was a good daddy who played hide-and-seek often with his son. “Was he ever hard to find?”
Walker chuckled. “All the time. But his little giggle would always give him away.”
Walker got quiet again, and then he turned her in his arms to face him. He touched her chin with his thumb. “Thanks for coming here with me today.”
“Thanks for bringing me. I know today has to be painful for you.”
He dropped his hand and broke eye contact to look up at the snow-covered mountains behind her. “Yes, it is every year. There are some things you just can’t get over.”
Bailey nodded. She then glanced around, expecting to see another headstone, and when she didn’t, she gazed at Walker and asked, “Your wife?”
He looked back down at her and took her hand. “What about her?”
“Is she not buried here?”
He hesitated a moment and then said, “No.” And then he tightened his hold on her hand. “Come on. Let’s head back.”
* * *
Later that night as Walker lay in bed holding Bailey in his arms while she slept, he thought about their time together at the cemetery. Today had been the first time he’d allowed anyone in on his emotions, his pain, the first time he’d shared his grief. And in turn, he had shared some of his family’s history with her. It was history he hadn’t shared with any other woman but Kalyn. The difference in how the two women had received the information had been as different as day and night.
Breaking Bailey's Rules Page 13
