“At the risk of sounding like a whiny five-year-old, are we almost ready?” She burst out of the bathroom door already talking. “I’m starving.”
The outfit was a test. It had to be. Boy shorts and an oversized sweater that dipped low on her breasts, showing off a good bit of cleavage.
He almost picked her up and threw her on the bed.
“That’s the kind of outfit that postpones dinner.” It might also delay breakfast the next day.
She planted a firm kiss on his mouth and kept walking. “You are not hard to sidetrack.”
“Not by you.”
While she grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator he continued to scan her titles. Some of the authors sounded familiar. Others, not so much. He tended to read books based on true events. Fiction didn’t do much for him because he viewed his life as bad fiction.
“What are you doing?” Her voice came from behind him instead of across the small room as expected.
He glanced over his shoulder to find her up on tiptoes and right by his ear. “Looking at your book collection.”
“Those are the keepers.” She ran her finger over the shelves. “The ones I had to have in print and nearby. Do you have any like that?”
He didn’t get the concept at all. “Not really.”
She slapped a hand against her chest and pretended to try to catch her breath. “The store owner side of me is appalled.”
“My apologies, but I’m not a collector of things.” He tried to remember if he’d ever cared about anything enough to drag it with him for more than a short time. As a kid he expected things to be taken away. As an adult he believed too many things would clutter his life and he liked to stay mobile. Or he did until her. “My apartment in DC would horrify you.”
She leaned against the bookcases and faced him. “Why?”
He thought about the bare fireplace mantel and the two photos he’d hung up. One over the bed and another in the family area. Both landscapes of places he’d never been. “Being objective, it doesn’t look like anyone lives there.”
“Really?”
“No clutter. Everything put away. No extra things.” That described the way he’d lived for as long as he could remember. Never care about anything you could lose.
Her eyes actually bugged out at that. “How can you stand that?”
The question made sense coming from the woman with a collection of scarves and funky jewelry. She liked bold, and it suited her. From her striking pale skin to the smooth black hair, she didn’t blend in at all. With her clothes and her choices and her refusal to sit and be quiet like some men insisted women do, she grabbed attention. She’d had his from the very beginning.
What he liked about her clashed with how he lived his life. Normally he would assume she was the part that had to give and move on. That was exactly the opposite of what his brain, heart and body told him to do now. “It never bothered me before, but now I see it doesn’t have to be that way.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Yes, you do.” That was one thing they shared. She was the one person he might be able to tell and she could get it. “When you don’t have much of a history other than being shuffled around you don’t have stuff. You have a few possessions and most of the time you worry those can be taken too.”
She nodded. “A stuffed animal. A photo.”
“Right.” The tight fist clenching his lungs eased. “I used to go to colleagues’ houses and I would see binders of photographs and all these pictures on the wall. These reminders of moments.”
The collections never made sense to him. Why try to capture a feeling or a memory?
“You don’t have photos.” She said it as a statement, not a question.
Because she knew. Deep down he’d always understood on some level that she would get him. That she had been there.
“There was so little in my life I wanted to remember.” He searched for some decent memory of his childhood, knowing there had to be a few, and nothing came to him. “You know, I spent so much time hating the Hanovers for the wrong reasons.”
“Meaning?” She didn’t stand up or touch him. She just looked at him with understanding rather than pity or anger.
The thoughts kept flowing. She did that. She made him want to unburden. For the first time in his life, he didn’t feel alone. The sensation took a weight off but also scared the hell out of him. If she came to mean everything and that was quickly happening, then losing her would be the final blow. It would destroy him.
But this time he didn’t want to pull back or play it safe. She’s opened so many doors that he wanted to say those things he never said. The stuff he buried down deep.
“I thought they had my dad and the life I wanted.” All that wasted time spent poring over documents and records. All that unnecessary surveillance. “But they had something better.” He didn’t wait to deliver the punch line. “Each other.”
She stood up straighter then. Her hand found his and their fingers laced together. “I know thinking about your life back then brings you pain.”
It knocked him down and dragged him under. His own father had a choice and didn’t pick him. Charlie chose abandonment over giving him the shot he gave Callen. For so long that slight, which was so huge and colored everything, made Walker hate everyone with the last name Hanover. It was a knee-jerk automatic reaction.
In reality, he only needed to hate one person—Charlie. He deserved the wrath and the hate, but Walker didn’t think he even had the spare energy for that anymore. “It’s time to let it go.”
Mallory’s head snapped back. “What?”
The words wouldn’t stop now. They tumbled in his mind and raced up his throat. “I hunted Callen down. I followed where he went and asked questions. I picked at his life and ripped it apart. Hell, I got my superiors believing he was working with Charlie right to the end.”
“But you don’t believe any of that now?” She squeezed his hand, as if trying to give him courage.
Answering no would be the easy way out. Once again, she gave him the push he needed to deal with the impossible stuff. “My point is that I did those things and despite all that time and our run-ins he insisted I move into his house. He tried to get me to sign an agreement taking an interest in the house.”
Mallory slipped her arms up Walker’s stomach and wrapped them around his neck. The move brought him in close and he did not try to back away. From here he could see the intensity in those eyes and smell the citrus bath gel on her skin.
“That makes me the asshole.” He’d spent so many years pushing the blame on others, making Callen the bad guy. It sliced through Walker to realize he’d gotten it all wrong. That he wasted so much time and energy. Possibly blew his career.
She gave him a gentle squeeze. “You were hurting.”
Mallory. His Mallory. She knew what to say and when. She reined him in and made him be better. She believed in them when he was too stupid to see how lucky he was. Her acceptance eased some of the churning in his gut.
“I regret my choices.” Something else he’d never said before. He’d barely admitted it to himself until right before he said it.
“They are good people, Walker. Flawed and imperfect, but decent.”
He waited for the denial to rush into his mind but it never came. For days he’d been trying to force the anger to linger; now it was gone, too. “I know.”
“I know this is radical and upsetting but . . .” It looked like she was holding her breath then she blew it out. “They’re your family.”
Air rushed through him. The sudden pounding in his ears matched the quickening of his heartbeat. Not panic but something else.
“I know that, too.” The final bit of wall inside him crashed. It echoed in his ears and he felt the vibrations through his body.
Her fingers tickled the back of his neck. “You’re accepting all of that?”
“I’m saying I’m ready to move forward.” He took her hand and brought it to his li
ps. “And I want you to help me do that.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I am right here where I’ve always been, waiting for you.”
Despite everything and how close he stood to getting what he wanted but didn’t deserve, he had to warn her. One last time. She was smart and strong, but for whatever reason she wasn’t running the hell in the opposite direction and he needed her to know he’d understand if she did take an out and find someone else. “I’m not the best risk. You should,—”
She kissed him then. Light and sweet. “Go turn off the stove.”
***
It took about a minute to get his shirt off. The pants came next and he stood in front of her, naked and ready to go. The man did not have a problem with excitement or embarrassment, but he did like to be in control and tonight that was not going to happen.
Just minutes ago, Walker had stood in her family room and said the words she’d been dying to hear. None of them came as a shock. The miraculous thing was that he said them at all. He shared. He opened up.
And she loved him more than she thought possible.
He lifted one eyebrow. “Why am I the only one undressed this evening?”
Instead of answering, she pushed against his chest, sending him falling back onto the bed. Then she crawled. Up his bare legs. By his erection, stopping just long enough to brush her fingertips over his tip and watch his head fall back into the mattress. She stopped when her legs straddled his hips and her mouth hovered over his.
Her palms pressed into the bed on either side of his head. “You’re mine tonight.”
“Every night.” His hands went touring. Up her hips to her waist. Then to the sides of her breasts until he cupped her.
Now there was a good answer. “We’re going to do this my way.”
“Yes.”
She loved the immediate agreement. “You’re going to help me out of these shorts.”
She shifted her hips, thinking to entice him. He blew right past that when his fingertips snaked under the elastic band and peeled them down, taking her panties with them.
The material stopped at the top of her thighs. Her position trapped them there, but his fingers went to work. One finger dipped inside of her. Her body resisted at first but the wetness guided his way.
Then his thumb circled over her. Her hips rolled forward and her body clenched. She was half lost in a haze when she scrambled off of him and shoved the shorts down and off. By the time she got back on the bed he was sitting up and moving. He had a condom in his hand and used the other one to flip her onto her back.
“I need to be inside you.” He said the words against the base of her neck as he kissed her.
Her heart galloped every time he said those words and this time was no different. “Yes.”
“Now.”
He had to be missing some clues because she was primed and ready and not fighting him at all. “Yes.”
He hesitated one more second before he crawled between her legs. He spread her thighs wide and slipped his fingers inside her again. The pressing, the circling. The way he watched her body as his finger plunged and her inner muscles tightened.
“So beautiful.” Then he lowered his head and kissed her there. Soft but enough to make her back lift off the bed.
“Walker, please.” And she would beg because this was not one of those times where she craved foreplay or wanted to see how long she could hold back. No, she wanted him deep and fast.
His tongue swept up inside her and she started squirming. Control abandoned her and her mind blanked except for one thought—him.
She clawed at his shoulders and tugged until he started to move up her body again. When his mouth met hers, she felt him press against her below. He’d somehow gotten the condom on. His body surrounded hers and the heat radiating off of him warmed her.
When he pulled back she almost screamed but then he lifted her leg. Just one, pushing it back until her thigh rested against her chest. The position opened her even wider and he took advantage. Slow, like a form of sensual torture, he slid into her. Inch by inch, plunging while her breath left her body.
“Walker.” She tried to scream his name but it came out as a low, gravely whisper. She almost didn’t recognize her own voice. “I need you to move faster.”
He grunted but didn’t say much else. With his body over hers and the bed shaking along with her insides, he began to push. In and out, faster and faster. The rhythm matched the thundering of her heartbeat.
That fast her orgasm hit her. The building gave way and her body let go. She gasped as she tried to drag him down closer but her leg kept him wedged above her.
“Yes.” That’s all he said. One word. More of an exhale than anything.
The shaking moving through her touched off a rumbling in him. She saw his muscles tense and his jaw snap closed. His breathing picked up as her body finally fell back against the mattress. Her final thought was to keep her eyes open so she could see him come. She loved to watch the moment wash over him.
But she couldn’t do it. With her body exhausted her eyes drifted shut. She held on to him and felt every tremor. She smiled because she loved the feel of the hard planes of his body, all angular and firm. And when he slid her leg from between them and fell against her, she welcomed his weight.
Time passed. She wasn’t sure if it was minutes or longer. The moment only registered because her stomach grumbled and she realized she’d skipped food in favor of bed. Walker did that to her.
But now she needed pasta. “Think we should—”
“I’m probably going to lose my job.” He said the sentence into her pillow.
From the flatness in his tone and vibration of his voice, her eyes popped open. Then the content registered—fired—and all thoughts of food fled.
She shoved against his shoulder until he looked up. “I thought you said you were fine.”
With a loud exhale he pushed up and balanced over her on his elbows. “I was evading.”
“How bad is this? I mean, it seems pretty serious and I’m guessing you’re not exaggerating.” She’d never been fired in her life. Being self-employed basically meant she’d have to fire herself and though it was tempting some days, she couldn’t exactly do that.
“I’m dealing with an internal investigation and pressure from my boss to come back to the office and face all the charges.”
That sounded like there was more than one charge and that had her heartbeat hammering in her throat. “Which are?”
“Misuse of my office. Working while I was on temporary leave.” He closed one eye and looked up as if he was thinking it all through. “Technically, I guess that means impersonating an FBI agent since I didn’t have my badge at the time.”
She sat up higher on the bed, taking him with her. “Who reported you?”
Walker rolled off her and lay next to her on his side. “Chief Darber. Probably Marc Baron.”
Yet another reason to hate both men. They were incompetent and crooked. In the case of Marc, he was just a horrible man. The stories Mallory heard from Leah over the years made her almost happy she didn’t have a family.
But, really . . . “What the hell?”
“Don’t be angry with them.” Walker put a hand on her stomach. “I did it. This was my fault.”
She loved that he was being all mature and taking responsibility but part of her wanted to kick and scream. He should make amends for his bad choices. That didn’t mean he should lose everything while Darber and Marc went on with their lives.
She practically vibrated with rage. It took her a few seconds to realize she was the only one in the bed suffering from that issue. “Why are you so calm?”
“I’m not.” He sat the whole way up with his back propped up on the pillows piled at the top of her bed. “This is the only job I’ve ever had and, believe it or not, I’m good at it. Well, when I’m not obsessed and on the hunt for Callen.”
It sounded like he was trying to make a joke. She didn’t find anything fu
nny about this.
Suddenly chilled and a little queasy, she sat up slowly, leaning half against him as she asked the question she dreaded. “Did he turn you in, too?”
Walker shook his head as he brushed a hand through her hair. “The last message I got was that Callen had been contacted but refused to file a report or complaint.”
Mallory blew out the harsh breath she’d been holding. While Callen would have had every right due to Walker’s past behavior, she had no idea how she would have forgiven him for that. Now she didn’t have to, and the relief nearly knocked her off the bed.
But that wasn’t the only question she had relating to the Hanovers. She’d never understood how Walker hid his connections or passed polygraphs. All of Charlie’s lies probably helped, but at some point Walker likely had to tell a few of his own to get the position he had.
“Does your boss know Callen is your brother?”
“Let’s just say I still have a lot to explain.” Walker kissed her hair. “Which brings up another issue . . . my failure to disclose relevant information regarding an investigation.”
The charges kept piling up and each one sounded worse than the one before it. This one seemed really official and like a very big deal. “It sounds like you’re reading a line from a report.”
“From an email, yes.”
She turned and faced him. That explained his recent obsession with his cell phone. “So, now what?”
“I decide if I even want to go back.”
She wasn’t sure if that meant to the FBI or to his house in DC, but she had a bigger concern. “Can you be arrested?”
“I’ve been told this is internal and about me continuing in my job only.”
That sounded like a good thing, but she really wasn’t sure anymore. “Tell me what that means.”
His eyes were flat. “For the first time in my life I don’t know what comes next.”
The words sliced into her. She knew he was talking about work, but there was no way for her to separate that part of his life from them. Not knowing what he wanted meant in his personal life, too. That meant her.
Too Far Gone Page 21
