“Fine. Do it.” Walker stepped away from the sink and stood directly across from Callen until only a few feet separated them. “Whatever you think is messed up about me, go ahead and help.”
“It’s really hard to do that when you’re such a raving asshole.” And that was the absolute truth. Callen wanted to like Walker or at least figure out a way to tolerate him. The guy made that tough. Impossible, actually.
“I guess that’s just evidence of our biological connection.”
Well, that was new. Walker usually went out of his way to deny they were brothers. Half the time looked ready to ram his head into a wall at the thought. Callen decided the admission was progress of a sort and let the rest of the conversation drop. “Probably.”
“I’m leaving.”
“Fine. I won’t wait up.” Because he had better things to do with his evenings.
***
Slamming the shovel into the wet ground proved cathartic. The steady thump. The burn across his shoulders.
Callen wore a thin long-sleeve T-shirt and jeans as he dug a trench around the outside of the oversized work shed. A few days ago Tom had mentioned something about the plumbing and earmarking this as a future project. Doing it today wasn’t anywhere near mandatory but Callen needed to break things.
Thunk. The tip of the shovel hit a rock. Callen moved to the side and loaded the mud onto the tip. He thought about dumping the pile on Declan’s shoes. Maybe that would get him and Tom to go away. To stop making stupid comments.
Having an audience was more than a little annoying. At least Beck gave up and went inside. Handed down some lame excuse about taking the rest of the day off with Sophie.
Callen shook his head just remembering Beck’s jog into the house. His baby brother wore the crown on getting out of hard work. He could interpret a contract, argue a point until your eyeballs fell out of your head and get a legal aid office running at top efficiency. A guy with those skills should be able to pick up a hammer now and then. Apparently not.
The grass crunched. Callen looked up in time to see Grace marching across the yard. Damn, he could watch her all day. The fact those yellow rain boots turned him on did scare him a little. So did the flat expression on her face.
Declan must have seen it, too. “Uh-oh.”
She stopped right in front of Callen, not backing down or allowing him any space. “What is wrong with you?”
“Good question,” Declan mumbled.
Callen decided to ignore that shot and concentrate on Walker since it sounded as if he went crying to his female protector. Typical. “Your friend is jackass.”
“I get it now.” Tom nodded. “We’re talking about Walker.”
Before Declan and Tom started lecturing about giving Walker space to get used to the family or whatever loan they’d been trying to sell all afternoon, Callen cut them off. He’d taken more than a few risks for the guy. “Walker went after Mom in the kitchen.”
Tom’s relaxed stance disappeared. “What did you just say?”
Just the right amount of outrage. Good for Tom. This was one of those times Callen didn’t mind that his mother was living in the apartment above Tom’s garage. The guy was protective and made no secret of how much he cared about Mom. If anything, he provided a bit too much information and needed to tone down on the PDA.
Accepting the idea of his mom dating a younger man, having sex with him, had been a challenge. Callen liked to think of Tom as a hardworking, decent guy. Self-made and honest. But that didn’t mean Callen wanted a forty-something stepdad.
“I’m going to kill that guy.” Tom tightened his grip on the axe in his hand.
“Whoa there.” Callen snatched the tool-turned-weapon out of the older man’s serious grip. “There’s no need for bloodshed. I handled it.”
“Where is she?” The concerned frown hadn’t left Declan’s face.
“In the house. She’s really fine.” Now Callen had Walker to thank for having to calm down both Tom and Declan. The guy caused trouble when he wasn’t even there. “You know Mom. She can hold her own.”
“She’s had far too much practice doing just that.”
Comments like that made Callen like Tom even more. “Agreed.”
“Gentlemen, let’s sheath our weapons.” Grace turned back to Callen. “Tell me what happened between Kim and Walker.”
“Mom tried to talk to him, and he reminded her they weren’t related.” A toned-down version, but it got the point across.
Callen could hear the words. They kept echoing through his mind and every time the refrain started again his temper sparked.
Grace shrugged. “No surprise there.”
Except in her comment. Grace usually rushed to people’s defense and took a side and stood firm. Her lack of concern caused a nerve at the back of his neck to pinch. “Interesting response.”
“Don’t look at me like that.” She glanced around at all three of the men before looking back to Callen. “To be fair, you did the same thing with Kim. Said harsh things, fought against the comfort and mothering she wanted to give you. It wasn’t until you accepted the truth about how much she loves you that things calmed down around here.”
Declan barked out a laugh. “You and Walker really are alike.”
“I’m holding a shovel.” Callen knew the threat landed wrong when Declan and Tom made yeah-right faces.
Grace moved in closer and wrapped an arm around Callen’s waist. “Walker needs time.”
And after the thing with Mom he could have all the time he wanted . . . in another state. “To what?”
“Accept everything that’s happening around him. Get used to this family.”
That sounded reasonable, but Callen wasn’t buying it. “He’s known the truth about his parentage for a long time.”
“No, he’s known a version of the truth. The one where you guys were the enemy. Now that he lives here, sees you every single day, his image of the Hanover brothers is cracking and he’s struggling to deal with that.” Declan made a strangled noise and Grace’s focus zipped to him. “What?”
Declan shook his head. “I think you’re giving him a lot of credit for being deep.”
Callen decided to be more clear. “Walker is an annoying motherfucker.”
“Give. Him. Time.” Grace had the mother tone down.
“Will that make him less annoying?” Callen asked.
She answered his sarcasm with some of her own. “It will help you all to see how alike you are.”
He kept hearing about their similarities. The insight grated against his nerves. “That seems harsh.”
Declan put his hands around his mouth like a makeshift megaphone. “Listen to the pregnant woman.”
Good advice. Callen intended to do just that.
“Yes, that should be the new family motto. Grace is always right.” She rubbed her belly as she said it and smiled. “I’m going to go inside and find Kim. A little woman talk might be in order. At the least she can reassure me we don’t need to buy ten thousand dollars’ worth of equipment for an eight-pound baby.”
Callen watched Grace’s hips swish from side to side as she walked away. Man, that woman knew how to capture an audience’s attention.
“When are you going to marry her?” Declan asked as he stepped up next to Callen.
“As soon as she says yes.” And that was no lie. The minute she agreed he would whisk her off somewhere and make it happen. “When are you going to marry Leah?”
Declan didn’t hesitate. “As soon as her father falls in a deep hole and stays there.”
“Well, then.” Tom snorted as he leaned the axe against the side of the work shed. “You Hanover boys do have an interesting way of dealing with trouble.”
“Meaning?” Declan asked.
“You’d fall apart without the women in your lives.”
That was a sentiment Callen had no intention of contradicting. “Amen to that.”
Chapter Nine
Mallory waited until s
he got the knitting group set up before venturing back to the counter to deal with Walker. The man took all of her patience while he stole a good bit of her self-control. Most of the time she waffled between wanting to kiss him and wanting to slap him, which made this the weirdest relationship she’d ever been in for more than one reason.
“I heard you had a busy morning offending people and causing trouble. Good job, stud.” She said it nicer than Leah had when she called, but Mallory figured she made her point.
She slid in behind the cash register and motioned for him to take a seat on the barstool across from her. She hated when he hovered. Since the suit was back, as well as his stern expression¸ sitting might help cool things down.
“The Kim thing?” He winced but the description bordered on insulting.
Mallory didn’t like the way he dismissed the mess he made. Stirred the pot then vanished from Shadow Hill for the day. Also made her wonder where he’d been for the last few hours. “She’s a good woman. Don’t screw with her.”
He stared at an empty coffee mug as if willing it to fill and come to him. “I won’t.”
That was a bit better but she could no longer read him. He might be placating her or trying to change the subject. “I mean it, Walker. I will wipe this floor with you.”
“I know.”
She took one more shot at making him understand the gravity of this issue “Charlie turned her life inside out, took her kid—”
“Callen wasn’t her kid.”
Now that was annoying. “In case you’re wondering, that’s the kind of crap you say that makes people want to strangle you with your tie.”
Walker shrugged. “It’s the truth.”
For someone who spent her youth yearning for someone—anyone—to take her in, the idea of him discounting a non-biological family ticked her off. She seriously considered dumping the coffeepot over his head. “Tell me what exactly upsets you about the fact Callen found a place rather than being kicked around foster care?”
Walker’s eyes narrowed. “What?”
Nice try. “Don’t play the big dumb guy role because we both know you aren’t.”
“Thanks . . . I think.”
She refused to be derailed by the woman trying to get her attention or the ringing phone or even by the stubborn male staring at her with a guarded expression. “Is all this anger because he got a home and you didn’t?”
Walker glanced at the phone. “You going to get that?”
Round and round they went, never settling anything. “You going to answer my question?”
“No.”
She snatched up the phone and took down the request for a book order. Then to prevent a second interruption she set the answering machine. Not the best small business strategy but Walker was the type to use any distraction to get out of a hard conversation. It was as if he took a special class in emotional obstruction at the FBI Academy. Probably aced the damn thing.
“Let’s find another topic,” he said the second after she hung up.
So much for all his promises of changing and trying to win her back. This was not the way to do it. “You weren’t the only one who got passed here and there and crapped on.”
He leaned forward on his elbows as if he were telling a great secret. “I know you had a shitty upbringing.”
The phrase didn’t come close to describing her loneliness and terror back then. But the shame was not hers. She’d been through enough therapy to understand that. She still dealt with insecurities but she would not whisper or hide.
And the whole idea of him trying to throw her a pity party made her dizzy with frustration. “A lot of people did, and we don’t use it as an excuse to justify every bad decision in our lives.”
He sat up straighter. “You’re saying I do?”
More like that he was a world-class wallower. He could give a workshop on getting mired in the past. He’d earn millions. “I’m saying you have to figure out a way not to let what happened before color your entire future.”
“It doesn’t.”
The denial came out too fast. No way could she ignore that. “You went into law enforcement because of Charlie. You chased him down. You’ve spent most of your career hunting Callen for crimes only you seem to believe happened. You shaped your life, twisted it around to make it all about people you purport to hate.”
The list had an obvious slant. She did not understand how such a smart man couldn’t see that.
“That’s not—”
“Listen to me,” she said when she sensed more denial headed her way. “Every step of your life matches up with your Hanover obsession. It’s creepy.”
Before he could argue she slipped out from behind the counter and went to the lady who was trying so hard to get her attention. Staying cool when the older woman asked to use the bathroom took the last bits of Mallory’s patience.
She pointed at the door marked BATHROOM two feet away from where she sat then went back to Walker. He was already off the stool and standing next to it.
“I’ll come back later.” With that he nodded and turned toward the door.
Oh, hell no. “You’re walking away from me again?”
When a few heads turned Walker stepped in closer to Mallory. “I think we both need to cool off.”
She did not see that happening anytime soon. Not if he kept bolting. “Did I hit too close to the truth?”
“You can stop playing to the audience.”
“And you should stop feeling sorry for yourself.” There. She’d said it. She’d been tempted to tell him that every damn day since they met.
A nerve in his jaw ticked. “I’ll come by later.”
As if he was the only one with a say. Mallory decided to set him straight. “We’ll see if I let you in.”
“Don’t threaten me.”
She decided not to let him get the last word. Waited right until he opened the door and crossed the threshold onto the sidewalk. “Don’t underestimate me.”
***
Later that night Walker stood outside of Mallory’s apartment and lifted his hand to knock. He never got the chance because the door swung open. Mallory stood there in a long V-neck sweater that dipped low enough for him to see she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. He didn’t know if she had on shorts either since the sweater landed at her upper thighs.
He was a fucking dead man.
She motioned for him to come inside and closed the door behind him. “You’ve been sitting outside in your car for an hour. I was beginning to think you passed out.”
Not exactly what he expected her to say. He prepared for a lot of reactions but not this one. “You saw me?”
“In a town this size I’m surprised no one called the police.”
Something he should have considered and planned for. “Good point.”
“So . . . ?”
“I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome inside.” He stayed on guard because getting inside had been way too easy.
Anger had flashed all around her this afternoon. In her clipped words and intense glares. Now she ushered him in and walked barefoot and all hip-swaying sexy to her kitchen area.
Yeah, he was in big trouble.
“There are these things called phones.” She picked up her cell and shook it. “I’m not sure why you refuse to use them.”
He did have a habit of walking out and imposing radio silence. Probably one of the many things he needed to change if he hoped to get back in her bed and off her shit list. “I’m sorry.”
Her expression stayed black as she sipped on a glass of red wine. “For what this time?”
Not one to apologize, he thought doing so now would earn him some goodwill. Apparently not. “That sounds bad.”
She walked over to her table and slid her fine ass on it. There she sat with her bare legs hanging down. The same legs that caught his brain on fire when she wrapped them around his waist.
“You ever notice our entire relationship consists of you screwing up, stepping aw
ay and me welcoming you back?” She took another sip.
Every move she made had his gaze zooming in on another part of her. She crossed her legs. She took her time on a swallow of wine. It was as if she’d calculated every action to push his desire for her into a screaming need.
Pulling his gaze away from her hair and the shadow between her breasts that he could see when she shifted, he tried to get back to the conversation . . . whatever the hell it was.
“That’s not true. I don’t push you away.” If anything he’d done the exact opposite. He should have kept his distance but didn’t. He should have stayed out of Oregon but couldn’t.
She sighed. “Wrong.”
“What kind of response is that?”
There was a clinking sound as she set her wine glass down on the table. “We’re going to try something different.”
“Meaning?”
The table creaked as she shimmied to the floor. In a few steps she stood in front of him, up on tiptoes, as her mouth brushed over his. “Sex.”
Maybe his hearing cut out. “What?”
She kissed the pulsing vein in his throat then chuckled. “From the way your heart rate just sped up I think you heard me.”
“I told you I wanted to—”
Her mouth covered his and cut off his words. Hands held his cheeks as she treated him to a long kiss that threatened to buckle his knees.
When she lifted her head a smile played on her lips. “Just sex. We enjoy each other, you leave.” She kissed his chin. “You don’t stay over. No cuddling.” Her mouth traveled down his neck again. “No dating. No meals. A simple release.”
Between the touching and the kissing he almost missed what she said. Then the words registered and he pulled back, putting a few inches of air between them. “That’s not what I want.”
“That’s what I’m offering.” Her fingers went to the buttons of his shirt.
“Look, we need . . .” When her hand dipped lower a breath caught in his throat. “What are you doing?”
She cupped his erection. Slid her palm over him and squeezed. “Are you really confused about this part?”
He tried to draw enough air into his lungs so he could think. Anything to counteract the loss of blood to his head. “I’m getting it now.”
Too Far Gone Page 10
