Conflict of Interest (The Walker Five Book 1)

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Conflict of Interest (The Walker Five Book 1) Page 8

by Marie Johnston


  That earned him a quick look of gratitude, then she concentrated until he pointed out the entrance to his drive. Noticeable because the trees surrounding his house were still visible, revealing the gap through the curtain of flakes. Once she pulled up in front of his garage, she relaxed her hands off the wheel and breathed a sigh of relief.

  He hated to break the bad news to her. Undesirable news wasn’t how he thought of it. More like a gift from the heavens so he could make things right. But she wouldn’t see it that way.

  “Elle, you can’t drive home.”

  “Of course I can. I’ll follow my tracks back to the highway.”

  He pointed behind them, to where her taillights highlighted the snow behind them. “It’s been less than a minute and you’d have a tough time getting out of the driveway alone.”

  The stages of grief played out across her face. He started to chuckle.

  “This isn’t funny, Dillon.”

  “It’s kinda funny, Elle. Not you being stranded, but I can see your brain frantically searching for a way out. Look, we both know the roads are too dangerous for you to go back to town. Let me help you out this time. You can use my roof for the night. I’ll even feed you.” Thank you, Mama, for the food.

  “I don’t have anything with me.”

  He gave her a playful tsk, tsk, tsk. “Always keep a winter kit in your car, Doc. Most of us keep it year-round.”

  Distraught turned to disgruntled. “I have a kit, with food, blankets, and a shovel. I don’t have clothing or toiletries.”

  “You can borrow a shirt and shorts and I even have a brand-new toothbrush. Come on, I don’t bite.” He gave her an encouraging smile and hopped out before she could argue. Before he shut the door, he turned back. “I’m going to open the garage. There’s space inside for your car.”

  ***

  She couldn’t stay. There had to be some way to get back to town. She had to work in the morning. No way could she explain being snowed in when she lived in town.

  Watching Dillon in the glow of her headlights did not make her feel better. His piercing blue eyes on her, and his body in the spotlight. He waited patiently by the garage entrance. Even if his vehicle had been parked inside, it was still big enough to fit her car.

  With great effort, she pulled her foot off the brake and eased the car inside. The garage door shut her in with the most dangerous male to her good sense. She stared in front of her at a remarkably neat and tidy workbench and her first thought was what a nice house he had. She’d expected an old farmhouse like what she passed in much of rural Minnesota, but his was newer, within the last twenty years, probably.

  Her door opened and she jumped, earning her another grin on that chiseled face.

  “It’ll be fine, Elle. If the snow doesn’t let up, it’ll shut down the whole county. No one has to know you’re here.”

  To save face and pretend that spending another night—a sober one this time—under the same roof as Dillon didn’t terrify her, she told him what she’d been thinking. “Your house is more modern than I expected.”

  “Mom and Dad lived in a manufactured home until after I was born. Then they planned and saved for a larger home. I thought they’d die here, but Dad’s illness made them want to be closer to modern amenities and they moved to Sioux Falls. Now it’s mine. My aunts and uncles figured life was short. The guys live in the houses they grew up in, too.”

  Elle trailed him inside. “What are you all going to do when you get older?”

  “Take a gamble that one of our kids will want to run the place.” He shrugged off his jacket and held his hand out for hers.

  “If any of my future kids help out, it’ll be enough to sneak away for a weekend.”

  “Are you seriously that tied to the place?”

  He toed off his boots and she did the same with her shoes, extremely glad she’d chosen slacks instead of a skirt. The idea of wearing his clothing didn’t make her feel better. Covered in his scent, cloth that had touched his skin… No, not a good idea. A girl only had so much self-discipline, and she was completely out of her element.

  “Not always. We can take off here and there. We have to, otherwise the burnout rate would be too high. There’s always something to do and during some months of the year, getting the work done is more important than anything.”

  Dillon hung their jackets up in a closet, tossed his hat up on the shelf inside, and beckoned her farther into the dark house.

  Her heart rate rose, and she wished she could run back to her car and the security of her own home. There was no turning back. Her car was probably blocked into the garage by piling snow.

  She followed him through a tidy breezeway, into the kitchen. Dillon riffled through the freezer of his fridge.

  “Score.” He withdrew holding a small tray covered in aluminum foil. “Mama stocked this baby the last time she was here. I can throw this in and we’ll have food in forty minutes.”

  “From frozen to table, huh,” she chuckled nervously. God, she felt like she was on a blind date. Instead of a neutral setting where she could make an escape, she was in his freaking home.

  “She hates wasting food, so she always makes enough for one, plus leftovers for at least another meal.” Turning some knobs on the oven, he tossed the tray inside, and set the timer.

  Her eyes stayed on the oven for a few frantic heartbeats before she glanced up to see him staring at her. She shifted on her bare feet, at a loss for what to do.

  “It’s all right, Elle.” He seemed to tell her that a lot. And she found she believed him. “You’ve risked a lot for me in the last twenty-four hours. You’re safe here.”

  She swallowed and nodded gratefully. If he made any advances, she doubted she’d be strong enough to back away. Not after the kiss the other night.

  “Let me show you the guest room and the rest of the house. Then I’ll grab some of my clothes for you to use tonight.”

  Her feet hit the carpet, and it was so soft, she wanted to stop and scrunch her toes in it. The carpet wasn’t special in itself, but the neutral tones on the walls, mixed with simple artwork and a smattering of family photos made the entire house inviting, comfortable.

  Dillon had already stopped by a room, but she slowed to look at a large photograph on the wall. There were a ton of people in the picture. What would it be like to live with a family this big?

  He came up beside her and pointed out individuals. “The five of us running the ranch are all in the back. Our parents are sitting in front of us and the rest of the cousins are on the ground in front of them.”

  Betsy couldn’t have been any more accurate. The Walker Five were some good-looking men. “This was taken recently, then?”

  “Two summers ago, when we learned Dad was sick.” He pointed out his dad, an older version of him, who was sitting next to a pretty woman with auburn hair, Dillon’s mom. “You met Brock. This is Cash.” The man resembled Dillon, but with sandy brown hair and a natural mischievous tilt to his smile. “Then there’s Aaron and Travis.”

  Travis had coffee-brown hair and blue eyes, while Aaron looked like the only blond. All five men definitely came from the same family.

  “You’re an only child, right?”

  A sad smile highlighted his face. “Yes. Mama always joked I destroyed the place on my way out, like a rock star’s hotel room. She started bleeding after I was born. They couldn’t stop it, and she had to have a hysterectomy.”

  “I’m sorry.” A single child, but with a huge family.

  “With nine cousins, it’s not like I grew up lonely. I didn’t feel like an only child. More like I had four fraternal twins.”

  She marveled at how differently they’d grown up: quintessential Midwest farm boy versus city girl from the broken home.

  “Who belongs to who?” she asked before she teared up at the thought of how idyllic it must’ve been. How it must’ve been what she’d always dreamed of instead of the neglectful mess she’d grown up with.

  Dillon
named his other cousins and what family they’d come from. She’d never remember, but she enjoyed witnessing his face animate as he added in quirks about each individual’s personality.

  “That’s my crazy kin,” he wrapped up. “I’ll test you on their names later.”

  Her smile was genuine, the first one she’d had in several hours. Honestly, after work was done and she bid her coworkers farewell, smiling wasn’t a common occurrence.

  His look shuttered and he turned away. “Here’s your bed for the night. Across the hall is the bathroom. You’ll have it all to yourself. The master at the end of the hall has one. Mama made me move into it after they moved out. Otherwise, I planned to stay in my own room because it just felt too weird. Have a look around, while I grab some clothes.”

  After he cleared the doorway and his strong form strode down the hallway, she went into the room. Neat. Tidy. She suspected that no matter where she went on his property, nothing would be in disarray. Her inner therapist analyzed, assumed that he drank to gloss over a messy point in his life, rigidly making the rest of his environment simplified and organized.

  Or maybe, his mom arranged everything and he was too busy, or lacked interest, to do anything differently. Or his Army habits crossed into civilian life. Damn, she had to quit doing this. He was no longer her patient.

  “Will these do?”

  She jumped and he chuckled. Scowling, she grabbed the shorts and shirt from him. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime, Elle.”

  She wished he would quit saying her name or go back to calling her Doc. He infused so much intimacy into her name, made it too personal.

  “Is there an extra toothbrush and comb in the bathroom?” She didn’t really care, but it’d distract her from how her hormones were ignoring her brain.

  “Yep. Check it out. I’ll go set the table.”

  She was relieved when he left, and regretful. The room lost a hint of its welcome without him in it.

  She clutched the clothes tightly to her chest. It’s been just her for so long that Dillon taking care of her unsettled her. She’d relied on his solid confidence when she had been driving because she’d been terrified. The highway had been disappearing and she had barely seen anything through the light-speed effect of the falling snow in a moving vehicle. Then she’d turned onto the gravel and her heart stopped. There’d been nothing but a mound of white that stretched above the ditches in the beam of her headlights, the only indication that there was a road underneath the blanket of snow.

  She didn’t think one muscle had twitched in worry on Dillon. He’d guided her to his place, parked her in his garage, and was keeping her overnight. Like, no big.

  To her it was big. It was Dillon Walker and he was meeting her needs. Her inner counselor told her to run, but the weather laughed at the notion.

  She crossed the hall into the bathroom, so she could hyperventilate in private.

  Chapter Eleven

  Elle Brady was in his house.

  She was staying overnight.

  And he had to be good, be the gentlemen his mama threatened him he’d better be, because if she heard otherwise… He didn’t know what would happen, but he’d never wanted to find out.

  He would be honorable, too. He’d feed her, make sure she was comfortable in the guest room, then in the morning, he’d clear snow and see she got back to town safely. He owed her at least that. She damn near vibrated from her nerves. The only time she’d relaxed was when he was talking about his family. Broaching the subject that the road to the highway may not get cleared right away didn’t seem like the right thing to do. He’d wait until morning. After he spent an hour clearing his drive. That was after an hour clearing a path to his shop.

  The oven beeped and he took out the hot dish. He didn’t know the name of it, just knew it contained most of the food groups because his mom knew him. He packed his lunch, but ate the other meals as he fit them in and food prep wasn’t a high priority for him.

  It smelled amazing and his stomach growled in agreement. He laid it on the counter and went about getting plates and silverware. It came as no surprise that he liked setting his little used dining table for two, instead of being one lonely bastard eating straight from the aluminum foil pan.

  A quick perusal of his fridge revealed that water was the only other choice than beer and milk. Given he’d been chowing leftovers in the mornings, it’d be better to put beer in his next bowl of cereal than take a gamble on that milk. The state of his food supply was normally sad, but with Elle under his roof, it dawned on him how pitiful it really was.

  He’d have to remedy that.

  He wondered if she’d come out of the bathroom willingly, or if he’d have to coax her out like a skittish mare.

  She appeared at the table, wearing her work outfit. No surprise. If he took a wager on whether she’d change clothes to sleep, he’d probably lose.

  “Smells delicious.”

  “Mama can’t make a bad dish, I swear. Go ahead and eat.”

  Her mouth quirked. “I like how you call her mama. It seems so Southern, but you’re so not.”

  He dug into his food. “When you have ten kids running around hollering ‘mom,’ it can be hard to get the right mom’s attention. So I started with mama. I think it made her feel like the queen over my aunts.”

  Elle chuckled, an enchanting sound reminiscent of Gram’s wind chimes. She didn’t laugh enough. Was it due to her career or the unknown story with her dad?

  “Is your father the oldest?” She sat and began to eat.

  “Yes, and I’m the oldest cousin, too. He and my uncles were all older before they got married, but once one did, they fell like dominos. Mama was the first to get pregnant then it was like something was in the water. Cash showed up a month after me, then Travis, Brock, and Aaron.”

  “That’s so cool.” She sounded wistful.

  “What about your family?”

  It was like the food in her mouth turned into a wet paper towel, but she finished chewing before she spoke. “My mom left when I was thirteen. And you know about my dad.”

  Not really, and he guessed it was a diversionary tactic to not have to talk about him. His mom and aunts and uncles were all living the life, halfway retired and doing things they couldn’t do while working the land full-time. Elle’s dad was already in assisted living.

  “What happened, Elle?” he asked softly.

  Her beautiful emerald eyes dimmed. “I told you how he fell.”

  “I mean before that. Why’s a young guy like your dad hanging out with my grandma?”

  “Oh.” She pushed her hair behind her ear and twirled her fork around in her food. He got the feeling he would get the abridged version. “He’s had…health problems much of my life. Then he developed leukemia and the treatment made him so weak.”

  “And there’s just you?”

  “Just me,” she echoed, and took a bite. To keep from having to talk about herself?

  “No siblings or cousins?” he pressed.

  She shook her head. “Only child, and not many cousins. They didn’t live nearby; I never got to know them.”

  Dillon sat back, done with his food. He couldn’t imagine growing up without family invading every facet of his life. He’d grown up with cousins, gone to school with them, graduated with them, gone into business with them. Then there had been him and Cash. They’d been like twins. Would they ever reconcile? Not when Cash remained oblivious to how utterly upset and disappointed Dillon was in him.

  He scrubbed his face, suddenly tired. It’d been a long day after a night with little sleep. “Sometimes they can be my biggest headaches.”

  She gave him a small smile. “You’re very fortunate to be surrounded by a support network.”

  “I know. We’re a little more spread out than we used to be, but…” He shrugged. “I remember wanting to get away so bad. Everyone lived in Moore, so it was like we never traveled anywhere. I love where I came from, but I just wanted,” his lips quirk
ed, “more than Moore.”

  Elle’s soft laugh rippled straight through him like a ray of sunshine. He loved making that serious face of hers break into a sweet smile.

  “But,” he continued, “after I grew up, I realized how good I had it here, and that it’s what I want in life.”

  She was watching him, and he couldn’t fathom what was going on in that sharp mind of hers.

  “But you’re not happy.”

  He opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. She wasn’t wrong. “I’m content.” He was way more content with her here.

  “If that were true, you wouldn’t have come to my office.”

  “I told you why I was there.”

  He got the really? stare. “You have some feelings you’re not dealing with. That’s why those who love you are worried about you.”

  “Is this session number three, Doc?”

  She didn’t leave the table, or get irritated at his cavalier remark. She faced him fully. “You’re not my client anymore.”

  He leaned over the table, hating that the plank of wood was in his way. “Then what am I?”

  No answer immediately spilled from her. They could be called friends, but he didn’t want to stop there.

  “You’re someone I’m concerned about. You should finish out your sessions with another counselor.”

  “I’m not going to go to another counselor, Elle.”

  “Then I still recommend AA. At least give it a try.”

  Ugh, he didn’t want to have this talk. Going to Fargo every week to sit in a room didn’t entice him. He waved for her to stay seated while he cleared their plates. Laying the dishes on the counter, his gaze rose to the window and the steady fall of fat, white flakes. Even if he’d wanted to, there’d be no getting out for any meeting.

  “I’ll think about it.” He wouldn’t. “We don’t have to worry about going anywhere tonight. Or tomorrow it looks like.”

  “I have to work tomorrow.” Elle popped up and rushed to the window. “Look at all that snow!”

 

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