by V. L. Brock
The threads of his hair worked between my fingers while we regulated our breathing, and he panted into my neck, “Fuck, that was…unexpected…”
“Happy Birthday, Walker,” I hummed.
“I told you, darlin’, I don’t celebrate my birthday.” His voice was monotone, and when I pulled back a fraction, his head was high, his shoulders pulled back. My mouth began to open, but the soft strokes of his hands through my scalp had me pausing––words forever lost just by his touch on my body and the look in his eyes. I watched the ghost of a smile twist his lips, the left dimple rousing. “But thank you––”
“For what?”
“For being here with me.”
It was nearing 11:00 a.m. by the time we had showered and dressed, and that was battling the sensuous needs which roused at each passing moment. Containing our hands was a challenge worthy of a million dollar reward, and one which I was sure would put us through withdrawals if achieved. I didn’t care for it, and neither did the birthday boy. And that was just fine with me. I would have given anything to make sure that his mind was on the positives that he had in his life, instead of focusing on the melancholic memories which overshadowed the day of his birth.
The tips of his hair were still damp, sticking up in that disheveled, fuck me look that I loved. It reminded me of how damn good it felt to run and tug my hands through it while in the throes of passion…just as we had done not so long ago. He was sitting on the couch, thrusting his feet into his black boots, his glorious body folded over to tie the laces while I waited at the door, my purple leather purse draping over my shoulder, my arms crossed.
“I don’t understand why we have to go out in the first place,” he griped, tying up his one bootlace before moving onto the next with his next statement. “I mean, I’d be happier staying in bed all fuckin’ day, if you’re catching my drift, darlin’.”
“I told you, it’s a surprise,” I chided lightly when he reared back, his black jeans hanging enticingly on the hips I was straddling a little while ago. It looked as though he’d poured himself into the black T-shirt he was sporting, the material smoothing and framing each muscle of his torso and arms. The tribal sleeve framing the muscle of his left arm disappeared beneath the covering material. He looked mouthwateringly delicious.
The boards creaked, each panel bouncing under his weight as he moved confidently towards me, fetching the keys to his truck along the way. “And I told you I don’t celebrate my birthday. I know what you’re doing, darlin’,” he offered a shrewd smile, his brow raising.
“Oh, you do, do you?” I muttered, lifting my head back to look him in the eye, my hands slithering over his torso. He smelled so good and damn he felt so…hard…“Well, you’re in for a shock because we’re not celebrating your birthday.”
“We’re not?”
“Nope,” I answered simply, not offering any further insight to the day ahead, and opened the door to leave, while Walker trailed behind me, muttering something about having a very spankable ass.
The sun was warm but there was still a slight chill in the air and rustling between the trees as we made our way to the truck. Considering I was the one who knew where we were heading, I held my hand out in a silent indication for him to hand over the keys. Walker, staring in both amusement and bewilderment from the driver’s side, merely scowled.
“Walker, I know I had a car accident, but it wasn’t due to my lack of attention.” I matched his stare with an arched brow. He still had no idea that the injuries I had sustained from the accident, weren’t from the accident at all, but from the man I shared my life with––the man with reasons to initiate punishments that I foolishly justified––let alone know that the cause of the accident itself was down to the same man also. That was something I couldn’t shed light upon. I refused to, because I knew that Walker would go down for murder.
“Please,” I pleaded.
The jangling of hurled keys over the roof of the vehicle was my answer. I remained standing on the passenger side with keys in hand while Walker prowled around the hood. “I trust you.”
“I trust you, too. Now get in.”
We were about a quarter of the way into the journey when his curious voice came from beside me. “So you remember the night of the accident, too?”
“Walker, please…”––I briefly glimpsed into the rearview mirror––“I don’t want to talk about that. But yes, I do.”
“And I told you I don’t want to go out for my birthday,” he countered.
For a second, as he leaned in to turn on the radio, my focus was torn from the road ahead. “Birthday?” I questioned. “This isn’t for your birthday. This is a date.”
Still pressing the buttons on the console, embarrassment clouded his chuckle. “Kady, it should be me taking you on the date, darlin’.”
“You did.” When I risked a glance at him, he looked utterly confused. “Karaoke,” the lone word was spoken as if it explained everything.
He chuckled again, his hand shifting to my thigh. “That wasn’t a date, darlin’.”
“No, you’re right…” my voice was already small, but somehow it trailed off completely, fading into the darkest part of my mind as I remembered back to that night, and the incidents which helped bring me to where I was currently. “It was so much more,” I added in earnest. Pulling up at a red light, I turned in the bench seat to face him. “You knew I was going to run.”
The scent of his cologne and body wash invaded my senses when he slipped in my direction and his hand, leaving my thigh, hooked my hair behind my ear. “I was counting on it, darlin’,” he muttered, a world of adoration in his eyes.
“But why?”
The sad smile that his pale lips curled into physically hurt my heart. His eyes, watering slightly, were searching mine like a miner in a quarry. “Because you always ran.”
I turned left into the car lot and pulled into one of many free parking spaces, before shutting off the ignition and pushing myself into the leather bench.
Risking a sideways peek at the man beside me, I noted his rapt attention studying the hut like reception; the green jail-like gate opened allowing a patron entry as she stood in front of the widow hatch.
Trying to gauge his emotions was like trying to get blood from a stone. I wanted to do something which neither of us had done: go out and explore as a couple, and yes, celebrate his birthday but without intentionally pushing him to celebrate it. Of one thing I was certain: Laurie and Carriag would be the ones intentionally pressing the celebration on him.
“What is it?” I asked.
“The zoo?” he drew out the words cautiously, like a lion sneaking through the reeds before pouncing, which made me smile wider.
Unclipping my belt and releasing the door, I nodded a plain and simple, “Yes,” before dropping out into the lot.
Before slamming the black door of his truck closed, I overheard him saying, “Hold on.” I was waiting and watching through the window, beguiled at the straining and shifting of his body beneath his clothing as he set his left arm on the bench and leaned in. The tendons flexed under the black ink as his right hand dove into his back pocket.
“What are you doing?” I snorted, amused at the concentrating expression on his face.
By the time a single word passed his lips, a string of beads were pulled from the pocket. I smiled and bit my lip, shaking my head as he shifted and draped his birthday present around the rearview mirror. Taking the cross in his hand, he kissed his knuckles before dropping from the truck to join me.
I was met at the hood, and with his body towering above me, my hand slipped into his grasp. Callouses scraped between my fingers, but my God it was one of the sexiest feelings, a man with workman hands. By the time we had taken three steps in the direction of the entrance, I was asked, “So why did you pick the zoo?”
“I used to love people watching back in the day.”
“Used to?”
A noncommittal shoulder was hitched, my purple st
iletto heels scuffing over the loose stones of the lot. “They come with too much baggage.”
Walker may have remained silent, but I could feel the affronted arch of his brow coming from beside me as though a dagger had just been speared into my side.
I peeked up, realizing how my words of insensitivity and reprimand could offend the one person who came with more baggage in his twenty-six years than some do in a lifetime. “Oh, God, I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like it sounded.” I came to a standstill, causing Walker to turn and face me in the direction we had just come from, our hands still nestled together. “What I meant was, you can sit and watch, yet you don’t know how many tiers a person hides. Deception…dishonesty…They can be a monster but you’d never know under the pretense. You just watch them go by…”––I hung my head, my brow furrowed while I strained to free words of guilt––“It kind of feels as though they get a hall pass because it’s for your entertainment. Animals though…they’re something else. They don’t judge.”
Even though his head was hanging low, his sexy, adorable dimple still came into focus, and when his gaze lifted, so did his dark eyebrows. He looked adorable and sexy as sin. “’Aye, I get it,” he muttered, taking one lengthy stride toward me so we were toe-to-toe. While his free hand cradled the side of my face, I breathed him in and my head lulled back, our gazes locked. “I feel that guilt. If I acted sooner, Jesus Christ, even if I just fucking kidnapped you and took you away––”
“No more,” I interrupted, and was repaid with a hefty sigh. “Things happen for a reason and I’m not the person to sit and wallow in self-pity. It happened, I justified it, I didn’t want to see it for what it was, but now I’m stronger. You’re making me stronger.” His facial expression told me that his moment of blame and fault was eased by my words. His body language betraying whatever private thoughts were running rack and ruin in his head on the other hand, told me the opposite. “Now, let’s go inside and try to have a fun day.”
Hours passed in a blink of an eye as we strolled around the many different sectors of Franklin Zoo. We were approaching the monkeys, when a childlike enthusiasm knocked me clean off my feet, and had me practically running in my heels to the glass partition with excited squeals.
I barely overheard Walker chuckling behind me, before his arms were snaking around my midriff. “I take it you like the primates, darlin’,” he breathed into the curve of my ear.
“They’re so funny. Look at that one stealing the other ones banana, the cheeky…hey…” I tapped on the glass the monkeys turning their attention to me while Irish’s warm, chuckling breath coated my neck.
“They’re cheeky monkeys, what do you expect, Kady?”
I slowly turned in his arms. “And you laughing like a hyena when I tried to save his banana were cheeky, too.”
“That’s nothing, darlin’,” he lowered his head further just like the timbre in his voice, while I rose onto the balls of my feet to meet his inviting mouth. “All you gotta do is say, and I’ll show you how cheeky I can be…”
When he pulled away, although making sure my hand remained in his clutch, I was left reeling with his words. His accent alone was enough to send me up and over on the sexual appetite ladder, yet the daringness in his tone had the stakes rising.
Strolling around the acres, I strove to get him to open up to me. Pain and anguish was all I knew about his past. I wanted to hear about the happier times, the fun times that his life at some point consisted of, before the dark part of his mind began to cast shadows over the majority of his days.
So I did it the only way I knew how: I dug into my own childhood, telling him the story of how Brittany refused to go anywhere near monkeys after one flashed his ass on the glass of the D.C. zoo our Dad took us to visit when we were kids. Or the time I had my packet of potato chips stolen by the trunk of a very cheeky elephant.
Walker listened to me warbling on and on and on. Finally, when I thought he was inclined enough to share a part of himself with me, I passed the buck. “What about you? Have you got any fond memories from your childhood?”
While swinging our hands back and forth gently, he blew a deep breath out between tightly set lips, “Umm…” I peeked up at the man beside me; a man who I could see was having trouble finding a fond memory in that darkened mind of his. “I remember Da taking me out camping.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“I hated it. But then again, camping in Ireland in the middle of winter would turn anyone off.”
The soft laughter was cut short as I asked, “What’s it like?”
“Camping?” he frowned.
“No, silly,”––I bumped my shoulder into his arm––“Ireland. I’ve always wanted to visit. It sounds so…peaceful.”
“It depends what part you go to, really. It’s the same with every country; you get your good and your bad places.”
As soon as the words, “Would you ever go back to visit?” came out of my mouth, I felt him stiffen and instantly regretted asking a question which was obviously another painful topic for him. I turned to face him, his expression saddened and torn. Eyes which always offered an ocean full of assurance were clouded into an ocean full of regrets and loss. His jaw was set tight when he sniffled and rolled his eyes a fraction as though pushing away his emotions.
“Look,”––he lifted his arm and pointed just down the walkway to the right––“Lemurs.” Being hauled behind him, I took that huge veer in the subject as my cue to kill the topic.
By the time my stomach was growling to be fed, and my fingers itched to get to the souvenir store, we were at the big cat sanctuary. The lions were dozing in the shade under a tree, while the tigers prowled through a small pond. Even behind the partition and in captivity, they looked so free.
“My stomach is trying to eat itself,” I whined. “Let’s go and get something to eat.” My fingers loosened in his hand before abandoning its grip as I continued treading along the walkway. When it was only my own footsteps I could hear, I turned around. My gaping gradually altering to a smile filled with wonder, practically split my face in half. I dug out my cellphone, pulling up my camera and, shaking my head in disbelief, snapped the sight before me.
Witnessing Walker standing with his head low, meeting the stare of a panther lazing on a branch in the tree, was both amazing and spiritual. He was a man, the cat, a predator, yet in that moment they were a mirror image. The spectacle was so intense and breathtaking to watch, that my eyes burned with overwhelming tears as I quietly made my way back to his side.
“What are you thinking?” I whispered, not wanting to startle both the hunter in the tree just beyond the glass, and the man, lost to his own thoughts beside me.
“I have no idea.” I sensed his reluctance as he finally tore his stare from the animal, his hand slithered up and down the crevice of my spine. “Hungry?”
“Famished,” I answered. Draping his arm around my shoulders, I buried myself against his immaculate body, his warmth radiating in waves. And as we approached the burger stand, it seemed as though a huge weight had been removed from his shoulders, as though he made peace with something which still remained secretive, and he was leaving it behind.
“So where to next?” Walker asked taking another bite of his cheeseburger then adjusting the napkin around his fingers. “I think we have seen everything now, darlin’.”
With my mouth full, I shook my head, frowning. Men. Lifting my hand to cover my mouth while I continued chewing, I spluttered, “The souvenir store.”
His wide-eyed skeptical regard, with the visible weight being dropped through his hip, revealed his confusion.
“You can’t visit a zoo and not pick up a souvenir, it’s a custom.”
His mouth curled into an adoring grin as he crooked his index finger, beckoning me closer. The side of my mouth was caressed by his tender thumb. When he removed it, he set it between his lips, licking off the remnants of red sauce. “You’re adorable.”
“I’m in my late twen
ties, Walker. I don’t do adorable.”
“I don’t care how old you are, darlin’. I don’t care how much you say you’re not, the woman I see in front of me is painfully beautiful, and her actions, adorable.”
I licked my lips before slanting my mouth over his.
We were standing outside the kiosk with wicker baskets strewn at the entrance with an assortment of soft toys and wooden snakes. When I made a move to go inside, Walker pulled back on my arm, prompting me to turn on my heel, an expectant smile on my face. “What’s the problem, now?”
“If this is a date, then I should be buying you the keepsake.”
“But––”
The amusement in his eyes was bountiful, that childlike, carefree grin causing that tempting dimple to return. He simply shook his head. I wasn’t getting out of this one…
“Trade?” I countered hitching a shy shoulder.
A cloud passed the sun, casting a shadow over us, while silence loitered. All we needed was the tumbleweed to pass. Finally, he hung his head before craning it fractionally, his chin low, and his eyes peeking up under hooded lids. This man was fucking gorgeous, but that timid look…it sent my body into overdrive.
“’Aye, alrighty then, darlin’,” he sighed in defeat, tapping me on the ass as I made my way inside, ducking under the hanging wind chimes in the doorway as I did so.
The proof of how much we knew each other was evident by the matching gifts we exchanged: both panther orientated. I had him close his eyes before threading my index finger through the loop of the key ring. He beamed gloriously as I was told to repeat the same action I had ordered with him, and close my eyes. When I fluttered my lids open, the black large soft toy was being held out towards me.
As we seized each other’s gifts from our first outing as a couple, Walker grinned, “Great minds think alike.” I couldn’t stifle my school-girl giggle and the appreciative warmth radiating throughout my body as, with the bulky soft toy nestled under my arm, we made our way back to the car lot.
