Walker Bride Read online

  “That’s how it works. It’s a tap room, not a restaurant. You order food from the nearby restaurants. Sometimes they have a food truck.” She cocked her hip, with her hand on it, and gave him a sultry gaze to go with the attitude. “You don’t come to town too often do you?”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  She smiled, and the white from her teeth nearly glowed in the dark room. Placing a manicured finger on his chest she moved in close. “Drinks and a late, late lunch is on me then. It’s a special occasion.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “You’re in town—finally getting fitted. It’s Friday. And I don’t have any more appointments today. Let’s celebrate.”

  He let out a long steady breath as he followed her to the front of the store.

  As soon as they walked through the front door, Pearl turned and locked the store up tight. He watched as she looked up at the sign and smiled. There was a lot of pride in her little store. He knew the look of pride.

  “Ready?” She turned that smile toward him, and he nodded. The deli was only a block away. She strolled right in with a wave to the man behind the counter.

  “Pearl!” he said as if they were dear friends.

  “How are you today, George?”

  “It’s a fine day isn’t it?”

  She gave him a glance over her shoulder and turned back to the counter. “It sure is.”

  Just with the look and the sultry sound of her voice, Tyson felt the heat rise on the back of his neck. His brother made him get fitted for a tux, and now he was on display? This was crap, and he was going to let Eric know about it. He didn’t need Eric’s cousin hitting on him. He didn’t need any woman hitting on him. How the hell had he gotten himself into this situation?

  Pearl ordered one sandwich and asked them to cut it in half. Obviously, they were sharing the club, which was his favorite, but what if he’d wanted a whole sandwich?

  She paid George, as she’d called him, and lingered her hand on his as she took her change. “See ya next week,” she said with a small wave.

  He followed her out of the deli.

  “Eat here a lot?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe once a week. I try to stop in for an iced tea every few days. It’s good to keep in the good graces with the businesses around you. I even stop into the barber shop across the street and catch a basketball game if I’m hanging out at the shop on the weekend.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s neighborly,” she said with a laugh in her voice. “Don’t you do that?”

  “I manage the ranch. My neighbors are ten miles away. And until this year, I’d never met them, let alone talk to them.”

  “I’ve always thought that was strange and interesting,” she said as she walked into the brewery with a wave to the woman behind the bar.

  The woman in a tight black T-shirt with the front cut to form a V in the crevice of her pushed up breasts reached over the bar to hug Pearl.

  “Didn’t expect you till later,” she said.

  Pearl gave her an easy laugh. “I got an offer to leave early. Elise, this is Tyson Morgan.”

  The woman extended her hand to him, and he took it only to find she had a serious grip.

  “Morgan? The ranch about ten miles out of town?”

  “Yeah,” he said pulling his hand back and tucking it into his pocket.

  “You’re Lydia’s brother?”

  “That’s me.”

  She grinned. “Love her. Who couldn’t love a spitfire like that?”

  He shouldn’t be surprised that Lydia had made friends around town. Unlike him, she was never out at the ranch. If she could get away, she did.

  Since the Morgans and the Walkers had reconciled their family feud, or, at least, it was simmered down, she spent a lot of her time at his brother Eric’s riding a horse Tyson had bought her for her birthday, which she refused to keep on their family property. She thought it was neighborly. Now that he’d heard the word come from Pearl’s lips, he wondered where Lydia might have gotten the idea.

  He and Lydia were as different as they came. Of course at forty-two years old, finding out he had different parents than she did, that should explain it. Lydia was outgoing, and as the woman with the perky chest in the tight T-shirt said, she was a spitfire.

  “What can I get you?” the woman asked.

  “I’ll have my usual,” Pearl said, and the woman nodded.

  “I’m at a loss here. Craft beers?”

  Pearl smiled. “From very mild to stout.”

  “And you are?”

  She licked her lips, and he clenched his teeth to keep from letting the subtle motion trigger his masculinity into a jolt.

  “I’m mild.”

  He looked at the woman behind the bar who was waiting for an answer. “Give me what she’s having.”

  The woman winked and turned to get their beers.

  “Mild? You? Not what I would have pegged,” Pearl said as she pulled her wallet from her purse.

  “Might not be by the time I’m done,” he smirked as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket. “I got this. You got the sandwich.”

  “I said it was my treat.”

  “Right. I’m feeling just a bit wrong about that, so I’ll get the beer.”

  Pearl slid her wallet back into her purse. “Thank you, Mr. Morgan. I’m going to procure that table by the window. You bring the drinks.”

  He watched her walk away, and that too had been a treat he hadn’t expected to enjoy. She had a sway in those hips that offered a little too much. However, if he hadn’t had noticed, he wouldn’t have felt manly. At this very moment, he needed to feel that way.

  After the woman in the T-shirt set down the beers, he slid her the bills from his wallet. She thanked him, he picked up the beers and headed toward Pearl.

  Pearl already had napkins laid out and the sandwich separated into two servings. Tyson set the beers down and then took his seat at the raised stool.

  “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable at a shorter table?” he asked.

  “I kinda like sitting up here and looking down at everyone,” she said grinning as she picked up her beer and took a long sip. “Oh, this is good.”

  She held her glass up toward him as if she were going to make a toast. She held it there until he picked up his and mimicked her move.

  “To a Friday afternoon full of promise,” she said.

  “What kind of promise?”

  She licked her lips again. “I don’t know. Let’s drink and find out.”

  Pearl tapped her glass to his and then drank. She’d taken at least two or three sips before he realized he still had his glass in the air and was watching her.

  Oh, hell, he might as well enjoy this very awkward afternoon. God knew he wasn’t coming to town again for a very long time. And it had been a long time since a woman seemed to throw herself in his path. What wasn’t to enjoy about that? Except that this wasn’t just some woman. This was Pearl Walker, daughter of Byron Walker. The man had little morals and caused everyone in his wake more problems than necessary.

  But watching her pick up her sandwich and take a bite, nearly did him in. Tyson sipped his beer as he watched her and he was reasonably sure he knew exactly what kind of promise she was offering. What man couldn’t see that?

  The real choice would be whether he wanted to get involved in such a thing. This was his half-brother’s cousin. Wasn’t that a little too close to the family? He thought again. Really—no—they weren’t related at all, but he was, at least, ten years older than she was. He didn’t need that headache he thought, as he took another sip.

  Pearl watched the people walking up and down the street as she took a sip from her beer. Of course, she might be watching the people, but her attention was on the long stare Tyson was giving her.

  It hadn’t been until she’d touched him that she realized she’d been working too hard. It had been a very long time since she’d let her hair down, so to speak, and just enjoyed an evening—or
a man.

  He was very visibly uncomfortable too. Still, she was enjoying that as well.

  “What do you think of the beer?” she asked.

  “Nice. Certainly could go for something a little stouter.”

  “They have it. There’s a chocolate one, but I never make it through a whole glass.”

  “You come here a lot too? A neighborly thing?”

  “You could say that. Bridal parties like to stick together. I get invited for drinks every so often. Brides tend to get attached to their bridal professionals. At least until the wedding,” she said, and the hint of sadness was a bit too obvious for her, so she planted a smile on her lips. “I direct them here.”

  “Very neighborly of you.”

  “How come you don’t come to town?”

  “Why? A half hour to get here. I usually can send Lydia for whatever I would need.”

  “You two are very different.”

  “Understatement,” he said as he finished his beer. “I didn’t realize you two were so close.”

  Pearl shrugged. “We’re not. She’s involved in two different wedding parties. Goes back to what I said about people getting involved with the bridal professional.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think that’s the case here. You, Susan, Bethany, and Lydia have a lot in common when it comes to event planning. You with wardrobe. Susan caters. Lydia is buying up the whole town where you can have a wedding. And I heard Bethany is a floral artist in the making when she’s not trying to try her hand at writing books.”

  Pearl sat back in her seat, crossing her legs. “You pay a lot of attention for a man who doesn’t like to be around people.”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t like people.”

  In his own way he had, she thought. “What are you guys planning for Eric’s bachelor party?”

  His eyes grew wide. “We have to do that?”

  On a laugh, she leaned forward. “Yes. You have to do that. You’d better get Russell, Gerald, Ben, and Dane planning.”

  “Dane won’t be any help. He moved away, remember?”

  Pearl nodded. Of course, she remembered. She’d been at the going away party his mother had thrown for him. Tyson had been the missing guest.

  How could she blame him? He might be Eric’s brother, but he was still a Morgan, and the rest of them were Walkers.

  A little tingle of excitement resonated in her chest when she thought about it that way. What would they all think if another Morgan and another Walker got involved?

  Pearl watched him as he bit into his sandwich. Lust began to pump through her veins now. She always was one to go against the grain.

  “You need another beer,” she offered as she hopped off her chair.

  “I think one is good enough.”

  “Let me buy you one.”

  He looked at his empty glass. “One more. But get me something a little manlier.”

  She gave him a wink and sauntered up to the bar, hoping his eyes were right where she’d wanted them.

  Chapter Three

  It was still early on a Friday afternoon, but the tap room was growing more crowded, Pearl noticed as she walked toward the bar to order them another set of drinks.

  Elise leaned in over the bar toward her. “He is super sexy if you ask me,” she said in a hushed tone.

  “I think so too.”

  “You making a move on him? I thought Walkers and Morgans didn’t speak.”

  Pearl shrugged. “Childish don’t you think? And damn, he’s no child.”

  Elise shook her head. “He ain’t that. Another round?”

  “Same for me. Something manlier for him.”

  Elise laughed. “I got that covered.” She turned and filled two more glasses. “He should like this.”

  “Thanks,” Pearl said as she laid the cash on the bar and picked up the glasses.

  “Is he the one who ends up being the brother of your cousin?”

  Pearl hadn’t thought the city was so small, but gossip sure could spread. “Yeah, that’s him.”

  “No wonder he looks so pained. That’s some drama there,” she said as another man approached the bar.

  Drama would be her middle name, Pearl thought as she walked back to the table with the drinks. She’d been born under a cloud of it. They often talked about drama queens, but her father was the king of the drama.

  She set the drinks on the table and climbed on her stool. Picking up her drink, she took a long sip.

  “You look a little preoccupied,” Tyson said as he pulled his glass toward him. “Something happen?”

  Elise had surely put a damper on Pearl’s mood though there was no reason for it. And Pearl wasn’t the kind of woman to get worked up over it either, so why was she?

  “Elise seems to think there’s a lot of drama where you’re concerned.”

  He choked on his sip of beer. “She what?”

  “This city is smaller than I thought it was. She knows your Eric’s brother.”

  “Well, that made it’s way around pretty fast. No wonder I keep away from here, huh?”

  “What the hell would it matter who your brother is anyway?” she continued. “So your family had secrets. What family doesn’t?”

  There was a thin smile that crept over his lips, and she was quick to catch it.

  “What?”

  He sat back in his chair. “You and I have to come from some of the most dramatic families around. I didn’t know my past was so shrouded in drama, but your dad is quite famous for his.”

  And wasn’t that what she’d just been thinking?

  “What do you know about my father?” she quickly quipped.

  Tyson leaned in with his arms on the table and his glass between the palms of his hands. “I know that his two ex-wives were best friends before and after he was married to them. I know that you and your sister Audrey, and your brothers, are very close in age. And I know he was infatuated with Bethany’s mother before he knew what a basket case she was.”

  “I think we can forgive him for that one, don’t you? I mean a beautiful actress is going to get a man’s libido running.”

  “Only she had many men’s libidos running. Even men my age.”

  Pearl winced. “Were you friends with Douglas Brant too?”

  He shrugged. “I knew him. I knew he was seeing an older woman too. I just wouldn’t have pegged it to be Bethany’s mother. Nor would I have thought he was crazy enough to try and murder people.”

  That alone called for another long sip of her beer.

  Douglas Brant had been just that man. He too had been as obsessed with her sister Bethany’s mother, Violet Waterbury. When Bethany showed up, after their grandfather’s death, and was the spitting image of her mother, that had sparked some deep seeded lust in the heart of Douglas Brant. He’d gone crazy enough over it that he’d begun killing off Eric and Tyson’s cattle and messing with their property in hopes of getting closer to Bethany. In the end, he’d kidnapped her and burned Eric’s house to the ground, with him inside. Luckily he’d made it out alive, and Bethany had shot Douglas Brant before he could do anything to her.

  Tyson picked up his beer and lingered it near his lips. “Tell me about your dad and his wives. There’s a story there.”

  “Of course, there is. My father is his own soap opera.”

  He chuckled. “Remember my mom had me, ditched me, my uncle raised me as his, and she ran off and had another baby with your uncle. I can say that we are two people that come from soap opera families. I can handle it.”

  She shook her head and laughed. “Maybe we’re meant to be.”

  His eyes opened wide as he took a long sip from his glass. Okay, perhaps she’d scared him to death with that comment. She’d move on to the story of her father’s wives.

  “Let’s see. The story began when my father was engaged to my brothers’ mother, Naomi.”

  “But your brothers are younger than you.”

  “Drama. Remember, I’m shrouded in drama.”
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  He laughed again. “Continue.”

  “He and my mother, Naomi’s best friend, had an affair, and oops, here I am.”

  “She got pregnant while your father was engaged to her best friend?”

  “Nice huh? Anyway, he married my mom. My sister was born a short fifteen months later. He left all of us, married Naomi and quickly had Jake and Todd.”

  “A man on a mission, huh?”

  “I guess. They divorced a couple of years later and then Bethany’s mom came along. But he never married her.”

  “But your mom and Naomi are still good friends.”

  “They are now. I guess they bonded over how horrible a man Byron Walker is.”

  He leaned in again. “You think your father is a horrible man?”

  “He’s no upstanding citizen. Look what he did with my grandfather’s land. He gambled it away.”

  “Yes, but that ended up being a scam.”

  “But your family almost had everything my family had worked for.”

  And there was the stickler to the whole Morgan/Walker feud.

  He watched her carefully now and she couldn’t decide if he was intrigued or disgusted.

  She picked up her beer and drank it down. “Well, I guess I had more of an issue with it than I thought,” she said. “I’m going to get another one. You want one?”

  He looked down at his half empty glass and shook his head. “I’ll be fine. I have a longer drive home.”

  “Right. Well, I’m thinking I need another.”

  She hopped off the stool and went to order another drink. At that moment, she wished they served something stronger than beer, though craft beer was plenty strong in her opinion.

  Another waitress took her order, and she waited.

  Her intentions on bringing Tyson to the bar had been to ease him into something—anything. She’d had her blood pumping since he’d walked through her door. What she hadn’t anticipated was diving into family history and it upsetting her as much as it did.

  She was no prude. She understood relationships and sex. Greed fueled her too. That’s why she was so successful. What she didn’t understand was a man who would move from woman to woman and family to family as if it were okay. Why would he think it was okay to gamble away their savings over and over and then try and take away what his father and his brother worked so hard to grow?