“Really?” She’d moved on to sarcasm. “Let me show you why.”
In two steps she stood directly in front of him. In another, she pressed her body against his as her hands snaked up to spear through his hair. Their lips met and an overwhelming sense of rightness washed over him. Her scent, the softness of her body under his hands, the way the kiss exploded through him until his body shook. Nothing and no one had ever felt as good as her.
As he stood there with his arms locked around her and his palms rubbing up and down her back, the memories came rushing over him. The sex had been on fire but the kissing . . . yeah, the kissing reeled him in.
His mouth slanted over hers and their tongues touched. As always, she went right to his head. He had to fight off the urge to pick her up and race back to her place. To put her under him and hold her wrists above her head while he entered her.
He wanted it all. The sex, the quiet moments, her laughter.
Right as he decided just this once to screw the audience he knew watched from inside and take the kiss even deeper, Mallory shifted her head. She stared up at him with swollen lips as her fingers traced the circle around his mouth.
The world stopped shifting and everything came back into balance for him. They could get through this. She would understand.
“I’m all for more kissing,” he said in a whisper.
A sadness moved into her dark eyes. “What happened between us before meant something to me.”
He didn’t say anything because he knew whatever came out of his mouth would be wrong. Like, get-kicked-in-the-balls wrong.
“And it means nothing to you.” Her hands dropped and she stepped back.
Only inches separated them but they may as well have been miles. Despite all the baggage piled up between them, most of it his, he could not, would not, let her believe what she was saying. He’d fucked up but he never used her.
“That’s not true, Mallory. I swear it’s not.”
“You can say what you want but how you act tells me all I need to know.”
“What does that mean?”
She tapped a hand against his chest then darted around him. “Enjoy your stay in Sweetwater but leave me alone.”
She had the back door open and slipped through it before he could grab her.
“Mallory, wait.” His voice echoed.
But she was gone. He toyed with the idea of going after her and insisting they hash this out right now, but Grace stood guard at the back door. Her frown suggested she would mow him down before she’d let him near Mallory.
The rain fell harder and the wind kicked up. Still he stood there.
Until Mallory, he’d kept his relationships light. Sex and dinner and a few weeks later goodbye. With her, he’d waded in further. Taken more risks.
He didn’t understand why she couldn’t see the sacrifices he made or the changes in him. Worse, he didn’t know why he cared so much about her determination to turn away from him. In reality, she was handing him the perfect scenario. He could talk with Beck about whatever proposal he had then leave Sweetwater clean and clear from all entanglements. Mallory would move on and so would he.
Damn, that plan sounded shitty.
“You okay?” Callen asked.
Walker hadn’t heard Callen until he stood out there beside him. Something about this family—this house—had his usual surveillance skills on the fritz. “Do you not believe in privacy?”
“It’s actually my house.” Callen leaned against the post. If he felt the mist of rain hitting his face he didn’t show it.
“Right.” Then Walker could leave. This was the perfect time for an exit. Mallory wasn’t the only one who knew when to leave a room, or in this case a porch. “I’ll go.”
Callen put out an arm and slammed a hand against Walker’s chest, blocking his path as he let out a long exhale. “Hold up. Where are you staying?”
Knocking the hand away might have felt good but Walker didn’t have the energy. Dealing with Mallory drained the life right out of him.
“Right now? My car.” He’d sublet his Washington, DC apartment and put most of his possessions in storage. The two duffle bags in his car held most everything he’d need to get by for now. He was on leave from the office, so he didn’t even have a desk to sit at.
Callen frowned as his arm dropped. “Do you usually do that? Because, no offense, it sounds a little nuts.”
Not Walker’s favorite word in light of his mother and her stint in a mental health facility before she died. His mother and, as it turned out, Callen’s. “I’ll check into the Severn Motel.”
“No need to waste money and risk being only a few doors away from Mallory when she’s that pissed off.”
“What are you saying?” This probably was the part where Callen would try to run him out of town.
Walker braced for the words. He’d known this moment would come and had welcomed Callen’s attempts to try to scare him away. Let him try. But with the Mallory situation in shambles Walker was torn about what to do and where to go.
“Stay here. With us.” Callen acted as if the offer made all the sense in the world. “We have plenty of room.”
That had to be a joke. And a sick one. “No fucking way.”
“Look, I know you want to be some sort of human island, all pissed off and stomping around . . .” Callen just stood there for a second. “Actually, I’m not sure that metaphor worked.”
“It didn’t make any sense.”
Callen exhaled again. Sounded like he said “dumbass” this time, too. “Then let’s cut through the garbage and posturing to the bottom line. We have an extra bedroom. You can use it.”
Jesus, he was serious. Walker saw it in the way Callen held his body and heard it in the tone of his voice, all direct and clear.
This was a bad idea. Epically bad. Walker rarely rushed into idiotic situations but that’s all he seemed to do lately. “You didn’t even let me in the front door last time I was here.”
Callen nodded. “True.”
“What’s changed?” Admittedly, finding out the woman he thought was his mother actually wasn’t had to have been a bombshell for Callen. In his position, Walker would have been ripping the town apart. Instead, Callen stood there offering a free room. Who the hell did that?
“You’re family.” Callen stated it as fact.
Walker viewed their relationship as an accident of birth mixed with a heavy dose of vengeance. “I’m really not.”
“Look, we can argue about that later. That and how much of an asshole you really are, but—”
“Screw you, Callen.”
“The fact is we’re related. You may not like it.” When Walker tried to cut in Callen talked faster. Louder. “Hell, I don’t like it either because you are not exactly the fun brother. But your life is a damn mess and you’re spinning and making it worse every second, so I’m offering a lifeline.”
“You feel sorry for me?” The idea had something pounding in Walker’s brain.
“A little but that’s not really the point.” Callen made a face. “It’s this whole trainwreck thing you’ve got going on. It’s sad and for whatever reason it makes me want to step in.”
There was so much wrong with what he said. So many pieces Walker wanted to rip apart and debate. But arguing would only prolong this conversation.
“I’m fine.” The words rolled out of Walker as if on autopilot.
“You’re also a douche, but Grace loves you and I love her.” Callen waved to the spot where Grace stood looking out the door’s window and shot her a half smile. “So, you’re staying.”
Ah, there it was. The true reason. His woman made him do it. Usually Walker would laugh off that sort of response but right now he got it. If only he could win Mallory back with a smile and a wave. “You’re saying you got an order from Grace to make this happen?”
“If that’s what you need it to be to agree then yes.”
“I don’t trust you.” Not even a little. Callen reminde
d Walker of Charlie and nothing about Charlie led to anything good.
“See?” Callen cuffed Walker on the shoulder. “We’re already finding things we have in common.”
The idea of being in the house, of seeing up close what it was that held the brothers together, appealed to Walker. He chalked it up to research. “One night.”
“I like how you make it sound as if you’re doing me a favor by staying here for free.”
The guy was a pain in the ass. “Are you always contrary?”
“Yes.” Callen opened the back door and motioned for Walker to head inside first. “Consider it further proof I’m your baby brother.”
The words grated on Walker. “I wish you’d stop saying shit like that.”
“I could, but that won’t make it untrue.”
Chapter Four
Mallory tried not to fidget in her chair as she stared outside. Rain streaked down the window in zigzag lines, blurring her vision of the street.
She lived in a studio apartment above her shop. The lack of distance from her business was both a blessing and a curse. This morning, the day after her big goodbye with Walker, it tilted closer to the curse side. Living and working in the same building made it easy for people to find her. If she wanted to blend in, she couldn’t always do it. Today she wished she could disappear.
“I’m worried about you.” Grace delivered her comment from the other side of the small café table Mallory used to separate the kitchen along the wall from the loveseat and chair that formed her makeshift family room area.
Mallory continued to stare. Life moved in slow motion on the street below. Sweetwater hadn’t kicked into gear yet on this lazy Saturday morning. Could be the gray skies and steady rain caused the problem. Probably also had something to do with the fact it was only a little after seven.
“I let you in because you had doughnuts.” Mallory spared a quick glance at the untouched mound of sugar and carbs sitting on the napkin in front of her.
Normally she’d be all over an early morning sweet snack. The emotional numbness had killed off her appetite. That was a first.
“You opened the door because I texted and threatened to use my emergency key.” Grace inched the takeout coffee cup closer to Mallory.
Not even a shot of caffeine sounded good right now. “I can take that key back, you know.”
“As if I didn’t make copies.” Grace took the plastic lid off her matching cup with a click and dunked her teabag a few times. “FBI, remember?”
“You research books now.” Which Mallory knew amounted to a pretty big understatement.
Grace didn’t sit in a room and page through boring reference books. She’d forged a new path. She never liked law enforcement and turned to researching true crime. Mallory admired her friend’s willingness to chase her dream and turn her interest into a career. They shared that entrepreneurial spirit.
“I don’t get your point.” Grace raced her words and talked right over Mallory when she started to butt in. “And I’m not here to talk about my career planning.”
“I’m trying to figure out why you are here so early.” Mallory actually knew. This was a fact-finding mission. A chance to poke around about Walker. Yeah, well, she wasn’t having any of it. “Don’t pregnant women need rest?’
“I went to bed early.”
Mallory shifted around in her seat. Picked up the doughnut and put it back down again without taking a bite. “Why do I think you’re not telling the whole story?”
With one hand in the pink pastry box, Grace looked up. “Honestly? I wanted to beat Leah out the door or at least be out of there when she got up and went off.”
That was not the answer Mallory expected. “Um, what?”
“Let’s just say the house was a bit loud last night.”
Dragging the information out of Grace took way more time and patience than Mallory had at the moment. She wanted to shout for her friend to spill it, but she forced her nerves to stop jumping and her voice to stay steady. “Because?”
“Walker is staying there.”
The chair screeched across the hardwood floor as Mallory pushed it back and stood up. “What are you talking about?”
Grace used the apple fritter in her hand to motion toward the empty chair across from her. “Sit.”
Mallory started pacing instead. Her legs carried her back and forth in the small space as questions jumbled in her mind. If her heart beat any faster she might pass out. “I want to punch someone.”
“Walker, I hope.” Grace asked the question as she tore off a piece of doughnut and popped it in her mouth.
For a start. “Yes and whoever invited him into Shadow Hill.”
The room buzzed around Mallory as she stalked. She spied her unmade bed and the blanket curled up in a ball in the corner of her sofa. That’s what happened when you spent hours each night trying to forget about the man whose presence filled every corner of the place when he slept here. You bounced from sofa cushion to mattress and back again, trying to wipe out the memories that ripped your insides in two.
“Well.” Grace snapped the lid back on her cup. “The person who issued the invitation would be Callen.”
The words registered and Mallory stopped mid-step. Clearly she misheard. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“While I like the pink pajamas with the . . .” Grace leaned forward and looked Mallory up and down. “Are those shoes all over it?”
Her favorites. Mallory picked them up in a little boutique in Seattle. They were pink and soft and decorated with drawings of high heels. A frivolous purchase for someone who grew up with nothing. Too tight shoes, a favorite sweater ripped at the seam that she wore almost every day because she only had two choices.
An unwanted kid first passed around distant relatives then a foster kid shuffled from family to family, from mobile home to shack. She never cared what the house looked like so long as it had a roof. Never enough food. Never good enough.
She touched the sleeve of her PJs and thought about how far she’d come. How she could splurge now and then without mountains of guilt, Not on big things. On discounted pajamas. Her only regret was that she didn’t get a second pair.
But her choice of lounge clothes really didn’t matter right now. “Get to the point, Grace.”
“Only if you sit. You’re practically vibrating with energy. I’m half waiting for your lightbulbs to start breaking.” Grace made an exploding sound as she acted out with her hand something blowing up.
“I’m pretty sure you just called me a witch, but fine.” Thanks to the black hair, not the first time. Would likely not be the last, though this time she was the one making the joke. “Talk.”
Grace started ripping the fritter into tiny pieces until she had a pile in front of her. “Callen found out Walker was sleeping in his car.”
An invisible hand squeezed around Mallory’s heart. She would not care. She refused to care. “So?”
“You don’t think that’s a big deal?”
She hated the thought of him alone and lying on a cold, cramped car seat. She also hated everything he’d done to her. All the things he didn’t say. All the things he did and didn’t do.
But he was a big boy. He’d made his choices and now he had to deal with the consequences.
“He’d still be in my bed if he hadn’t been such a big chicken.” And that’s the part that shredded her insides until she expected to see blood on the floor. His life didn’t have to be this way, but he’d picked revenge and anger over her. Decided getting even with the Hanover brothers because he was the son Charlie never recognized trumped everything. Every single time.
“Understood.” Grace reached for a napkin and wiped her hands. She didn’t say anything else. Just sat there, sipping her tea.
The not talking killed Mallory. She could take anything but silence and Grace was treating her to a calculated load of it.
Mallory hesitated for a few more beats. She thought about digging into that doughnut but
decided she needed answers instead. “So, Callen invited him.”
“I heard the minute Declan told Leah late last night. Her yelling echoed through the house.”
Now that was a best friend. Mallory found her first smile in days. “She’s loyal.”
“I’m surprised Walker didn’t take off after that.”
“But he’s there, which means I won’t be.” That part picked at her, making a wound a mile wide.
She walked in and out of Shadow Hill all the time without thinking. She’d go over for meals or to hang with Leah or to just generally bother Callen. The set-up provided her with a family of sorts. But the free pass ended the second Walker moved in. She wouldn’t go now. Seeing him, putting herself in that position . . . no way would she invite that sort of heartache.
“You could come over and talk to him,” Grace said with a shrug.
Worst. Idea. Ever.
Mallory tried to pick her words carefully. She’d had a relationship of sorts with Walker. Grace had a friendship that spanned years. They worked together in the FBI until Grace left. The only reason she even met Callen was that she worried about Walker’s obsession and sought him out. Then she fell in love with Callen, but her loyalty to Walker never wavered, despite his thirst for vengeance against anyone with the Hanover name.
“I know he’s your best friend, or whatever, and since I like you so much I’m not even going to ask what the hell is wrong with you in trusting him, but I think we can both agree I have every right to want to run him over with my car. I’ll refrain—barely—but he needs to go and stay gone this time.” There was no other answer. Mallory had some pride, after all.
“No.”
Somehow Grace missed the tone. Mallory didn’t know how that was possible. “I said, like, five things. What are you responding to?”
“I’ve seen him date other women.”
“I’m not sure how that topic helps here.” The thumping started at the base of Mallory’s neck and wouldn’t stop. “We should concentrate on eating.”
Too Far Gone Page 4
