Walker Pierce

by Christa Wick

  “Sorry,” Ashley sighed. “I’m not handling things well.”

  “So Moske shut it down?”

  “For now,” she answered, knowing, as far as her boss was concerned, the investigation was shut down for good.

  “Did he take your intern back, too?”

  “No.” The first grin since her discovery of the packs being removed skimmed her face. “I didn’t mention Thomas yet. But I sent him home for the weekend.”

  “I see,” Walker answered, a delicious note of speculation warming his voice. “So you’re not going to be out in the field the rest of this weekend?”

  “No,” she agreed, a little breathlessly, thankful that he was willing to move past her shutting him out the day before after all the help he had already given.

  “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “For yesterday. I really was being a pouty brat and you have gone above and beyond to be helpful.”

  Walker chuckled, the sound rippling down her spine so that she was hot and cold all at once.

  “Happy to serve,” he said.

  She sucked her bottom lip in, brows lifting as she imagined other ways he might serve her. Finding him in a forgiving mood, she suddenly couldn’t stop thinking about the times they had kissed.

  “So,” he started, his voice changing tack to something a little more formal. “Mama wants you to come to dinner tomorrow. I am, of course, volunteering to pick you up and return you home.”

  Ashley didn’t need but a blink to consider the offer. Lindy’s amazing cooking was its own reward, but Ashley would also have three hours in the vehicle with Walker, talking, maybe holding his hand or delivering a casual brush to his leg, all the while bathing in his scent and that deep rumbling baritone. Later, when he returned Ashley to her doorstep—well, anything could happen at that point.

  “I’d love to,” she answered. “Just tell me what time you’ll be there and the dress code.”

  Walker’s first response sounded like the purr of a mountain lion. All the way until he gave her a real answer, Ashley imagined him making that sound again, his lips against her ear, the two of them curled up on her bed with no dress code.

  “We’re pretty casual,” he said. “No shorts or flip flops at the dinner table. No work boots.”

  He paused, voice dropping a few decibels. “Skirts are always nice.”

  “Okay,” Ashley rasped before quickly recovering with a joke. “But I’m not sure how I’m going to like seeing you in a skirt.”

  “Careful, Agent Callahan,” Walker purred. “The Turks may be Irish, but Mama has more than a few Scots in her family tree. It’s been a while since she opened up her heirlooms chest, but I seem to recall an actual kilt in there.”

  Warm blood infused Ashley’s torso at the idea of Turk shirtless and wearing a kilt. Opening her mouth to shoot back a reply, all she could do was cough.

  “I thought so,” he laughed. “I’ll pick you up at two-forty-five. That’ll give you about half an hour to mingle with the family before dinner is on the table.”

  Right, the family, its scope nearly overwhelming for an only child like Ashley. So far she had met Lindy, Siobhan, Leah, Sutton, and Emerson. She had heard of Adler and his new wife, another brother by the name of Barrett, and Leah’s father Jake. There were no other siblings—still alive. But there were more cousins, an uncle and his wife. And Ashley had seen the dinner table, the one in the long dining hall with its wide fireplace and a family tree etched on copper leaves that extended from about a foot above the mantle up to a few feet short of the ceiling on a two-story room.

  “Who…uh…how many?”

  “A lot, but they’ll love you,” he promised. “Every last one.”

  She drew a breath in and held it.

  Love her? What was that about?

  “Everyone has been so kind,” she said after a second’s delay. She felt like a broken record or one of those antique tin toys that, for a penny, would perform an act over and over. Like bowing and incessantly repeating “so kind, so kind.”

  “Two-forty-five,” he repeated. “I’ll leave my kilt at home.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Arriving a few minutes early to Ashley’s apartment complex, Walker pulled into a spot close to her front door and shut the truck’s engine off. Looking over his shoulder, he stared at the bouquet of flowers in a vase carefully positioned on the back floorboard, a work boot on each side to keep it from tipping over. It was a nice vase, but not “too” nice. And he had picked a friendly assortment of flowers instead of long-stemmed roses in a lusty shade of red.

  It was the only time in his life he’d spent more than a few seconds picking out flowers for a woman. It was also his first time buying them for a woman he wasn’t related to.

  He didn’t want to scare Ashley off. But he didn’t want her thinking he’d lost interest in her romantically. Far from it. He’d spent the first two hours trying to fall asleep last night thinking about her, having her sit next to him for the drive and again at dinner, hopefully in something other than pants.

  A fresh image of her in a skirt with her hair down sent his brain and body running in all kinds of directions.

  Blowing out a hot breath, he yanked the key from the ignition and pocketed it. He eased the vase and flowers into the front of the cab, scrutinizing them one more time.

  It was just flowers, he assured himself. Not like he was picking out a ring or anything. At least not yet.

  Crazy thinking, he chided. His family had been through a lot this year, had lost so much. He figured his brothers would be lying if they said they didn’t have a magnified sense of their own mortality. To top it off, he had watched helplessly as a tree almost landed on top of Ashley’s vehicle.

  Maybe he should hide the flowers. Not give them to her.

  A soft knock at his window loosened his grip on the vase. It started to fall. He jerked forward to recover and hit his forehead on the steering wheel. Sheepishly, the flowers under control once more, he looked out the window to see Ashley wearing a soft smile and a sleeveless pale green dress. Her hair was down, the thick tresses sweeping forward when she dipped her head and stepped away.

  Adam’s apple bobbing, he hurried to open his door. Once outside the truck, Walker got a better look at the outfit. The bottom half of the dress ended in a bouncy frill just below her knees. What he could see of the legs was bare and smooth, the pale skin begging for his caress.

  The bare arms wanted touched, too. He reached out, ran his thumb against her shoulder and marveled at the instant flush that colored her skin with a full body glow. At least it was full bodied from what he could see—arms, neck, face, and a set of shapely calves.

  Walker was hungry to see more. Hungry to see everything. Her lush curves haunted him every night.

  “Are those for me?” she asked.

  He nodded, his tongue and lips an uncoordinated mess.

  “I’ll take them inside before we go.”

  Slowly, like she thought he might spook, Ashley took the flowers from Walker. He followed her inside her apartment and shut the door.

  While Ashley topped off the water in the vase, Walker surveyed the room. The lack of furnishings had surprised him before, keeping him from looking at what was actually there.

  Pretty much nothing. He was certain with a few bungee cords and some careful packing, he could move everything in the apartment with just one trip in his truck.

  “I’ve only been here a couple of months,” she reminded him. “And whatever I buy for this space may not be right for when I find a house.”

  Walker nodded, his feelings mixed on her talking about a house. He liked that she wanted to put down roots. He just wasn’t in favor of her buying a home anytime soon—he already had a place and he could see her standing in the doorway in that pretty green dress as he came home from work.

  “When were you going to start looking?”

  “Closer to the end of my lease,” she answered, drying her hands before turning off the kitchen light.
“They’ve got me on the hook for the full year unless I get a transfer. After that, I can go month to month if necessary.”

  She glanced at the gold-tone watched that was just a shade darker than the sandals she wore.

  “Did you need anything before we leave?”

  Her voice had grown hesitant. Probably because he was acting like a wordless fool.

  Nodding, Walker took a step closer and cupped her cheeks. “I need this.”

  His mouth found hers. Eyes closed, he couldn’t see another flush spreading along her body, but he could feel the increase in heat against his fingertips and across his chest as she leaned into him.

  Sliding his hands down Ashley’s back, Walker drew her closer, their bodies molding together, everything a perfect fit. His mouth dropped to just below her ear, then swept down the curve of her throat.

  Hearing Ashley groan, he almost lost his mind, almost reached for the top of the dress’s zipper to find the pull and slowly unveil the beauty in front of him.

  Air rattled as it left his body. He eased back, his lips ghosting hers for a second before he stepped completely away.

  “Got your keys?” he asked.

  Ashley blinked, her mind still caught in the moment, all tangled up in the brush of his mouth and the heat of his body. The sight of her lost like that, lost because of his touch, made him want to tug her to him and start all over, this time without ever stopping.

  The opportunity to do so ended when Ashley blinked again, then laughed.

  “You know, a woman could be forgiven for being confused around you,” she said, grabbing a small clutch that matched her shoes.

  “Yeah?” he chuckled, holding the front door open for her as they left the apartment.

  Nodding, she locked up. “Yeah. First you try to drop a tree on me, then you go out of your way to make amends by driving me where I was headed, helping me collect evidence, having your mother put me up for the night…then you show up with flowers and sit there in your truck like you’re thinking of chucking them instead of giving them to me.”

  “I was,” he confessed, opening the truck door and offering her his hand so she could step up.

  She didn’t take his hand, didn’t step up.

  “Why?”

  “I haven’t bought a woman flowers before…I mean, I have for Mama and when my grandmothers were still alive, for Dawn and Aunt Dotty…it’s a lot more complicated buying for a woman who isn’t a relative.”

  “The whole ‘hidden language’ thing?” She punctuated the question with an eye roll followed by a shake of her head.

  “You’re teasing, but that’s exactly it.”

  Hooking Walker’s belt loops, Ashley reeled him in. “So what was the problem—not knowing what you were trying to say or not sure if the bouquet matched what you were thinking?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  That was perhaps the safest answer he could give, but definitely not the most honest.

  “The woman at the flower shop confused the heck out of me,” he said as Ashley quietly stood there studying his face. “She had a million questions.”

  “Oh…” A not-so-innocent smile crept across her beautiful face. “Like what?”

  “Was this a date? That was the first one.”

  “Is it?”

  His mouth twisted around. It was dinner at his mother’s and at his mother’s invitation. It was less than a date one way, and so much more than a date in all the ways that counted.

  “I’m going to tell you what I couldn’t tell that woman at the shop.”

  “Oh, and what was—”

  Walker cut her off with another kiss, his hands knotting in her hair, his mouth demanding and hard. He kissed Ashley until she started to shake and her knees went weak.

  Dipping his torso for a second, he scooped her up and carefully placed her inside the cab of his truck. He drew the seatbelt across her torso, planting a long, lingering kiss against her neck before he closed the door.

  Hustling around to the driver’s side, he climbed in. Sliding the key into the ignition, he froze as Ashley reached across the center and gave his thigh a firm squeeze.

  His gaze met hers and she smiled.

  “Great answer,” she said.

  Chapter Twelve

  Walker parked his truck in the circular drive outside his mother’s home. He took his seat belt off, but didn’t seem in a hurry to leave the vehicle. His right hand found her left and gently squeezed.

  Ashley wondered how many women he had brought home for Sunday dinner. He acted like she was the first, but that didn’t seem possible. He had known her all of a week. A man who looked like him, ran his own business and was in his early thirties would have plenty of women vying to be Mrs. Walker Turk. Surely at least one of them had made it past his mother’s front door on a Sunday afternoon.

  “Kind of a full house,” he said, turning in his seat to look at her. “Adler and Sage are back from their honeymoon.”

  “And you’re sure I’m not intruding?”

  “Positive,” he answered. “Mama invited you and they got in yesterday morning. Barbecue yesterday must have had about fifty people. Mostly family and a bunch of ranch hands with their families.”

  A horn sounded. Not from a car or truck, something else. Almost like a boat’s horn. Hearing it again, Ashley looked toward the house as Walker began laughing.

  “For some reason, big brother got the idea in his head that the best thing to bring back from Hawaii for Leah was a conch shell. Who knew her little lungs could hold so much air?”

  Tilting her head just right, Ashley spotted the little girl on the porch, standing and staring at Walker’s truck. She had a string of fake flowers around her neck and a grass skirt. She waved then sucked in a deep breath and began to blow once more.

  “We’d best go in before she has everyone on the porch watching us.”

  Walker jumped out and got around to Ashley’s side of the truck as she finished sliding her seat belt off. He opened the door and extended his hand.

  Taking it, she smiled from the memory of how he had lifted her into the truck’s cab outside her apartment.

  The gesture had struck a deep chord. She had never felt so feminine in her life as when he had done that, the mix of emotions a knot of sensual and cherished. She couldn’t imagine another guy even trying to lift her, even if they possessed the same strong build as Walker.

  Ashley stepped down, her gaze on him. She didn’t want to think about others watching her at that moment. Everything she felt right then was new to her, the fact triggering an unwelcome vulnerability.

  Keeping hold of Ashley’s hand, Walker steered her to the front porch.

  Jake, Leah’s father, had come out to see to the toddler.

  “Gam-Gam said no flip flops or grass skirts at the table. No shells, either.”

  Holding the conch tight to her chest with one arm, the little girl swirled a hand at her father.

  “It’s not crazy talk,” he said, turning Leah toward the door. “It’s Gam-Gam’s table, so you follow her rules.”

  Holding the door open, he gave Leah a gentle tap on her bottom to get her moving. Continuing to hold it open, he nodded at Ashley and Walker.

  Together, the three of them entered the hall. Standing near the fireplace in the great room, Emerson caught sight of them and waved.

  “If I’d known you were coming,” he said. “I could have saved Walker the drive.”

  “No,” Walker rumbled. “You couldn’t have.”

  “Two down, three to go,” Siobhan chirped, coming up behind them.

  Walker and Ashley turned as one. A quick side glance at Walker revealed his cheeks were as pink as her own, but Ashley suspected a different reason behind the color. She was slightly embarrassed to have her potential love life commented upon. Walker, on the other hand, looked like he wanted to give his younger cousin a tap on the rear and send her to the kiddie table.

  Siobhan jiggled her phone at them, her
expression open and innocent. “Crossword levels. Finish three more and I go from easy to intermediate.”

  “Weren’t you here last Sunday?” Walker mumbled at his cousin as he walked Ashley over to the sofa.

  “And yesterday,” a deep voice interjected.

  Ashley looked to find a mountain had entered the room carrying a tray almost as oversized as he was.

  With a scowl in Siobhan’s direction, the man set the tray down on one of the coffee tables. “She tried to set me up with Royce’s sister.”

  “She’s pretty,” Siobhan protested. “And she has a doctorate in something or other.”

  “I’m sure her husband considers her an excellent catch,” he said, rolling his eyes as he approached Walker and Ashley.

  “Barrett,” he said, offering his hand. “The middle of Mama’s boys.”

  “And the orneriest,” Siobhan snorted, hanging her purse on a hook in the hall. “The woman wasn’t wearing a ring, so how was I to know?”

  Shaking Ashley’s hand, Barrett sighed and leaned in. “Siobhan’s trying to clear the local field of competition by marrying off the prettiest women to her brothers and cousins.”

  Ashley looked from Barrett to Siobhan. The young woman tilted her nose in the air and offered a shrug, her shoulders cloaked in guilt. Ashley couldn’t imagine Siobhan actually worrying about competition. No doubt she had a thick body, but the curves were in all the right places. She had an hourglass figure like the models men liked to pin on a wall in their garage. The naturally black hair was thick and long. Looking at Siobhan’s eyes and the exotic bone structure of her face, Ashley would guess that her mother’s family had more than a trace of Native American blood. All around, the young woman was a knockout. Standing next to the beauty, Ashley felt like faded wallpaper.

  “Let’s get some of that lemonade Barrett brought in,” Walker said, his hand landing softly against the small of her back.