But she still heard the words “Who is that?” coming from her mouth.
“That’s Nicole Fletcher,” Dawn said, her voice flat. “She’s an old classmate of Keith’s. Kind of a slut, people say.”
“Aren’t we all?” Charlie muttered.
Dawn didn’t answer. It was probably too obvious a question.
She watched Walker and Nicole speak for a few more seconds. He wasn’t in flirtatious mode, that much was clear. Not that it was any of her business. Any woman who was stupid enough to fall in love with that man would live with a breaking heart every day of her life.
“Are you two sharing that cowboy or something?”
A solid mark. Maybe Dawn really did have her number. Maybe Charlie was just a worthless slut. Charlie sighed, feeling defeated by all of it. “Look, Dawn, you didn’t want me here. I get that now. It kind of makes sense. Actually, it makes perfect sense, and I’m sorry if I’ve caused trouble. But I’m here now, so can’t we just call a truce? Please?”
Dawn shrugged, already moving away from Charlie. She spared her a glance over her shoulder. “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,” she said as she walked away.
That didn’t sound like much of a truce. Charlie grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. This was a war she didn’t want. She could rise above it. She was smart and amazing and determined. She could do this. She could do anything.
Two hours later she trudged into the Stud Farm in utter defeat. She’d tried to enjoy the rest of the evening. She’d tried to schmooze about the resort. But all anyone had wanted to do was gossip about people she’d never heard of. Hell, even when she’d tried pointing the gossiping tongues toward Dawn, she’d failed. A couple of people had laughed and implied that Dawn was a prissy bitch, but otherwise the woman never seemed to have set a foot wrong in this town. She was the consummate socialite wife. The most Charlie had gotten was “Did you hear she’s already gone half gray? If she didn’t have that amazing hairdresser, she wouldn’t look quite so perfect all the time, let me tell you.”
“Gawd,” Charlie groaned as she toed off her heels and stretched her poor, squished toes. All she wanted was a hot bath and then a soft bed. Thank God she hadn’t invited Walker over. She wouldn’t have been doing much mind blowing. Unless his number-one turn-on was limp snoring.
Dawn had defeated her. There was no mystery to solve. No reason behind anything. The woman was just bored and eaten up with jealousy. Over her husband or Charlie’s adventures or something else that no one knew about. There was no evidence to acquire. Nothing she was missing. Dawn just needed therapy.
Charlie probably did, too. She’d assumed the worst about her brother because he was a gruff talker and...sometimes an asshole, truth be told. But he’d helped her out and hadn’t even taken the credit. She’d have to find a way to repay him.
Damn it. She hated being wrong. Especially with Brad.
She tossed her shirt on the couch and unfastened her jeans as she headed straight for the bathroom to fill the tub with hot water. She was tying up her hair and sinking into the steaming water before the tub was even half-full. “Oh, God, yes,” she moaned as she slid deeper. This tub wasn’t nearly as nice as the jetted number she’d left behind at the resort, but the water felt so good on her tired legs that she nearly wept.
Maybe she was getting too old for wearing heels for five hours. Maybe she was getting too old for all of it.
Was it possible that Dawn was right? Had Charlie taken her life in the wrong direction?
She could’ve married some rich man and been living in the kind of luxury she now protected. Granted, she hadn’t envisioned the society-wife life for herself. When she was young, she’d planned to go to college, have a good career and then meet a nice man and settle down in the country.
Then she’d gone to college in Colorado and fallen in with a fast crowd.
She burst into laughter at her own ridiculous thought as she switched off the faucet and sank farther into the tub.
A fast crowd. Right. What she’d fallen in with was the tiny group of women isolated within the Systems Security program at school. Charlie had learned that she could be successful and smart and still have fun. She didn’t have to choose between being perfect or being her mother. There was a middle ground, and she’d found it. She and her girlfriends had gotten the same grades as the boys, and they’d had fun while they did it.
The bath cheered her up, and she was almost ready to fall peacefully into bed when she heard a noise from the other side of the wall.
Walker was home. She closed her eyes and listened to the creak of floorboards as he moved about. A door opened very close by. She jumped when the sound of his shower suddenly rumbled through the wall.
She couldn’t help smiling then, picturing him as he stepped into the tub and the sound of the water changed. God, he was a gorgeous man. All muscle and dark hair and smiles. Maybe she did have the energy, after all. Maybe she could go knock on his door as soon as the shower stopped. Better yet, just walk in. He never seemed to lock his apartment. She could walk in and drop her towel and tell him she was ready for him.
But then she heard it. A low grunt that rumbled through the apartment wall. Then a soft gasp that she only heard because she was holding her breath.
Was he having sex? Was he with that woman?
But no. She’d only heard one set of footsteps and definitely no heels. He was alone. He was getting himself off. He was thinking about Charlie.
Despite her earlier jealousy, she was almost sure of that. The way he’d held her tonight. The things he’d whispered. She tipped her head and let it rest on the cool tile of the wall so every sound would have to go right through her.
He grunted again and murmured something. Something low and urgent. It could have been her name. It could’ve been anyone’s name, but she didn’t care anymore. Didn’t care whose name he said or who he thought of. Because she could picture him then, wet and hard, his fist wrapped around that gorgeous, thick cock. Stroking it.
Charlie slipped a hand between her legs. She was already wet, slippery despite the water. She bit her lip to keep from crying out at the pleasure, but that didn’t stop the feeling. It didn’t stop her thighs from clenching or her hips from jumping. Her other hand toyed with her hard nipple, pinching and teasing it as she stroked herself.
She wished she could watch him. God, she’d love to see him as he jerked off, one hand braced against the shower wall as water sluiced down his back.
“Walker,” she whispered as he grunted again. God, she wanted him inside her. Wanted to barge in and stop him from getting himself off so she could have it all. His cock, his come, his gasps of pleasure. She wanted him making that sound because he was pushing into her body, because she was squeezing around him. She wanted him whispering her name as he tried to hold back.
She squeezed her nipple harder, her teeth sinking into her lip as she tried to hold back a cry. He thought she was trying to slow him down, but she wanted everything with him. Every taste, every sound, every feeling.
Charlie rubbed herself faster, pushing her hips up as she clenched her teeth. She imagined him watching as she touched herself, urging her on, pumping his cock as he—
She heard another faint sound from his side of the wall, then a curse and a strangled moan. He was coming. Right there. Oh, God. “Yes,” she whispered as her own orgasm built inside her. “Yes.”
And then she came. Biting her lip, her eyes clenched shut as she tried not to scream. She came as she pictured him, naked and wet just a few feet away, come still dripping off his fist.
Yes. One more day. She could wait. But just barely.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
WALKER STOOD IN the parking lot of the roadside restaurant, watching his breath cloud his vision every time he exhaled. A cold front had moved in overnight, which was good news for him. It meant he’d have steady hard work soon, as ranchers hired extra hands to drive cattle down from high grazing land. But there w
as no work today. No excuse not to meet his brother for breakfast.
Not that he didn’t want to see his brother. Micah only came through town a few times a year, making the circuit of hospitals in the Mountain West, reviewing critical-care systems or so he’d explained several times to Walker.
Walker had no idea what he did. All he knew was that Micah was good at it. He was great at everything. The best little brother a guy could hope for.
So, no, Walker didn’t want to avoid his brother, but a visit with Micah meant that Walker would have to see their dad, too. A quick drive over to the care facility, and then an excruciating eternity of staring awkwardly at the floor. There was nothing dangerous about it. Nothing scary. But his pulse pounded as if he were standing at the edge of an airplane door, waiting to jump out.
His heart thundered so loudly that he couldn’t hear himself think, so he stood still for a moment, looking up at the big Hot Food sign that blinked weakly in the cold sun. Micah always wanted to meet at this same dive. Walker thought of him every time he passed it.
“You look like a damn mountain man,” Micah said as soon as Walker stepped through the door.
“Micah. It’s good to see you, too.” His brother stood and hugged him, a gesture Walker was thankful for every single time. They certainly hadn’t learned that kind of affection from their dad. “You look great. How’s Timothy?”
“Still putting up with me. How’s your flavor of the month?”
Walker smiled. “Pretty tasty.”
“Ha. You never change. Good thing Dad never gave a damn about grandchildren. Neither of us seems likely to give him any.”
“Yeah. Not that he’d notice at this point.”
Neither of them bothered with looking at the menu, they just ordered the regular and settled into the coffee with a vengeance.
Walker tapped his mug. “I’m glad you’re here, but I wish we could just hang out. There’s no reason to go see him, you know. He doesn’t know we’re there.”
“Yes, he does. He’s still in there, Walker.”
“Ha. You think? I don’t know who that old man is. He’s not Dad.”
“He’s still happy to see us.”
“Yeah.” Walker looked out the window at the passing traffic. “That’s exactly what I mean.”
They fell into silence. There wasn’t much to say on the subject. Their hard, mean bastard of a father had been reduced by old age to a confused man who was a damn sight happier than he’d ever been when he was healthy. Their parents had married late. Dad had been fifty by the time Walker was born. Unfortunately, age hadn’t softened him early enough for Walker’s sake. He’d still been made of granite and rage all through Walker’s eighteen years at home.
“How’s work?” Micah asked as the waitress set down half a dozen plates on the table.
“Oh, you know. I’m picking up jobs here and there. It’s fine.”
“You’re not at the ranch anymore?”
“No. I’ll find something permanent in the spring.”
“I still think you should’ve kept Dad’s land. The house wasn’t much, but you could’ve run a hundred head of cattle out of there.”
Walker changed the subject. They’d had this discussion a dozen times. “Anything new for you?”
Micah shrugged. “They made me a VP last month.”
“Jesus, man. No wonder you can afford that amazing place on the water in Seattle. Congratulations. You deserve it.”
“Thanks. Are you going to come out sometime? Or do I need to drive a herd of cattle into the yard to tempt you?”
He’d never managed the time off before, but... “You know what? Maybe I’ll drive out this winter, if you’re willing to put me up.”
“Really?” His brother’s face lit up, and Walker decided then and there that he’d make the time.
“Yeah. Don’t bother with the cattle. You’ve only got a patio anyway. They’d make a mess of it.”
“I’m glad, Walker. Really.”
“If you’re sure.”
“Please. We’d love to have you. You know that. But you’ll have to promise to behave. Half of my friends have a crush on a photo of you I have in the living room.”
Walker grinned. “Yeah? That might be nice. All the attention without any of the temptation.”
“You sure? Some of them are damn hot men.”
Walker burst into laughter and raised his cup in a mock toast. “I guess we’ll find out. But after all the years I’ve spent in bunkhouses, I can’t imagine I could ever find any male part appealing.”
Micah waggled his eyebrows. “Oh, bunkhouses. Nice. Remind me again why I didn’t become a cowboy?”
Walker shook his head. “I’d have beaten your ass before I’d have let you waste your brains on driving stock. Seriously, Micah, I’m proud of you. And so was Dad, when he was still clear.”
Micah’s smile faded. “Dad was proud of you, too.”
“Bullshit. He hated having me for a son. Called me an idiot every day of my life.”
“Walker...”
He waved his brother off. “Don’t defend him. He was a miserable bastard.”
Micah finally gave up on whatever speech he’d been about to make. His shoulders dropped. “He didn’t understand.”
“Yeah. No shit.” There hadn’t been any such thing as dyslexia to their father. There hadn’t been learning disabilities. There’d only been thick-skulled stupidity and laziness. There’d only been a stubborn, shiftless kid who needed a slap upside his head every day and an occasional good beating.
Their mom had sometimes shaken her head and clucked her tongue about her husband’s words, but that had been it. Walker had at least been able to shield Micah. That was why Micah was more sympathetic. More forgiving. Because he’d seen a calmer side to their dad. Walker had drawn the fury, and he’d been damn glad to be the one.
But by the time he and Micah were teenagers, things had calmed down slightly, if only because Walker had been big enough to fight back. And by then, they’d both been mostly out of the house. Micah had taken classes at the community college in addition to high school. And Walker had spent every waking moment out with friends or working. He’d worked hard. He’d saved up to move out. And he’d saved up even more to send his little brother to college. It was the best thing he’d ever done.
Micah was an amazing man doing amazing things. Walker was so proud of him. Walker might be destined to be nothing but a muddy ranch hand for the rest of his life, but he’d helped raise his little brother. Taught him how to ride and fight. He’d taken him fishing and hunting and camping. And he’d helped pay for the education that Micah had deserved and their father had scoffed at.
Micah set his coffee on the table. “We should get going. I think he has physical therapy at ten.”
He wanted to tell Micah to go without him, but he’d tried that before and it had ended with an argument that had left Walker feeling like an asshole. “All right,” he said, “but I’ll meet you over there.” He needed the time alone to brace himself for the visit. And the time alone after to stuff all his emotions back down where they belonged.
“Sure. I’ve got to hit the road after anyway.”
“You just got here. Stay for dinner, at least. Better yet, stay the night. I’ve got a couch that’s almost long enough for you.”
“Tempting,” Micah said, as he stood and waited for Walker to follow him out.
“Come on. It’s been four months since you’ve been through.”
“I’m sorry, Walk. I’m already running late. I have to get to Helena for a lunch meeting tomorrow.”
“No relief from travel with the promotion?”
“Oh, there’s some talk of hiring another team member, but so far I’m basically doing two jobs. So no.”
“Figures. I’ll see you over there.”
Walker closed himself up in his truck and took a deep breath as his brother pulled away. It’d only be a thirty-minute visit. Best to get it over with.
&n
bsp; The senior care center was at the outskirts of town, next to the hospital. A small place, but modern and clean. They’d talked of moving their father to Washington to be closer to Micah. After all, it wasn’t as if Walker ever dropped in to visit. But here in Jackson, they knew some of the nurses and attendants, so they didn’t have to worry that their dad would be neglected or mistreated. So here he stayed.
When Walker pulled up to the center, Micah was already going through the doors. He knew better than to wait for Walker, but this time, Walker forced himself to get out of the truck and walk right inside. No hesitation, no pacing around, no psyching himself up. He simply walked through the lobby and straight to his dad’s room.
Of course, his dad wasn’t there. He never was. It was only the stranger in his dad’s skin. A thin old man who seemed to be collapsing in on himself. A ghost who smiled as if that came naturally to him.
“Oh, hello,” the old man said to Walker. He looked back to Micah with that same smile. “Two visitors on the same day?”
“Dad, it’s Walker,” Micah said patiently. Their father just gave him another pleasant smile and shifted his slippered feet. His bare ankles were thin and pale and hairless.
Micah sat down for a conversation. He even reached for his dad’s hand. But Walker didn’t sit down. He paced to the window and looked out at the view of pine trees and a parking lot.
He couldn’t reconcile this frail body with the past. His dad had always been a giant. A mean son of a bitch with a temper to match his strength. When Walker was small, his dad had been a vengeful, flawed god. Unfathomably powerful. Now he was a harmless stranger dying slowly of congestive heart failure and Alzheimer’s.
Walker snuck a look over his shoulder and felt rage boil up inside him. He didn’t even have the right to be angry at this man. His father’s final, parting cruelty had been removing himself from the path of that rage. Walker had lots of things to say to his dad, but if he said them, he’d be raging at a helpless innocent. He’d be screaming at a man who had no idea why or what he’d done. He was free of it.
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