Walker Bride Page 3

  The waitress set her beer on the counter, and she picked it up with shaking hands.

  The afternoon was going to be a waste now. Tyson Morgan was going to finish his drink and get out of there as fast as he could. Why wouldn’t he? Crazy Walker women were not a prize to be won.

  She could feel the first two beers swimming in her head as she walked to the table. The glass sloshed over the side a bit as she set it down.

  “You okay?”

  “Fine,” she said as she picked up the glass.

  “How are you getting home?”

  “I have a car.”

  Tyson’s lips pursed. “Yep, but I’m not thinking you should drive it.”

  “I wasn’t going to. I’ll go back to my store and stay there for awhile. I’m not stupid. I won’t drink and then drive. I won’t even text.”

  He laughed at that. “I didn’t mean to get you all worked up over your dad.”

  She set her glass down and leaned in over the table. “Are you attracted to me?”

  His eyes widened, and his face went pale. “Of course. You’re a very beautiful woman.”

  “Why don’t you have one?”

  “One what?”

  “A woman?”

  He finished his beer and let out a long breath. “Don’t need one.”

  That was her answer now wasn’t it? This date was officially over, she decided as she drank her beer. What a shame too. She was very much hoping to have shown him her very secret tattoos. Now it looked as though they’d simply be awkward around each other and that was a pity, especially since it seemed they’d be attending all the same weddings.

  Tyson watched as Pearl’s polished demeanor disappeared with each sip she took. How was it he could anger most men and sadden the women? No wonder he didn’t need one.

  It had been a pain in the ass to drive into town just to be measured for a tuxedo for a wedding and now he was babysitting his cousin’s cousin while she wept over her family drama. No thank you.

  But he was still sitting there, wasn’t he?

  Oh, he didn’t need a woman, but it didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy one from time to time. And what wasn’t there to enjoy when he looked at Pearl Walker?

  It had been hard not to sound like a caveman when she’d asked if he was attracted to her. What living, breathing man wouldn’t be?

  She was stunning, and he’d been fighting off the signals his body was sending to his brain all afternoon. But watching her skin flush from the alcohol and her infectious good mood slip away, he chose to ignore those incessant signals.

  As she finished the last of her third beer, in under an hour, Tyson scooted off his stool and stood.

  “C’mon, I’ll walk you back to your store.”

  She lifted her eyes. “Thank you.”

  With a nod, he held out his hand to her. She took it and stumbled into him as she came off the stool. Once again she was pressed to him, only, this time, she lingered there.

  Tyson bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep his mind focused on something other than how she felt there.

  Once she found her balance, she looked up at him. “Thank you for being such a gentleman. You’re a Morgan, and I’m a Walker. You could just drop me on my ass right here, and no one would think a thing of it.”

  Tyson took her hands, hoping to steady her, but also to keep her body from his. “I’m not my grandfather, and you’re not your father. I don’t see where the Morgan and Walker feuds of the past have to work their way into our lives. Not any longer.”

  A smile formed on her lips. “I think that would be nice. A clean start for this generation.”

  He chuckled. “Aside from the few black eyes that Eric and I gave each other, yes.”

  Pearl gathered her purse and flung it over her shoulder. “Thank you for a nice afternoon.”

  Tyson lifted an eyebrow. “Was it nice? I’m not very good company.”

  “No, I think you were very good in the company department. I hadn’t known I needed it so much.”

  She took a few steps before stopping, bending down, and removing her high heeled shoes. “Safer this way,” she joked as she took his arm and let him walk her down the street.

  The street that ran down the old part of town, which was now filled with quaint shops such as Pearl’s, had grown busier with pedestrians and cars driving slowly.

  Pearl fished for her key in her purse. When she retrieved it, she fumbled to put it into the lock.

  “Let me help you,” he took the key from her shaking fingers and opened the door.

  “Thanks,” she said softly as he pushed open the door.

  Pearl stumbled inside and giggled to herself. Tyson stood a safe distance at the door. “You promise me you’re not going to drive, right?”

  “I promise, but you’re welcome to stay and make sure I don’t go anywhere.”

  He let out a low growl. “I could just give you a ride home. Then I’d know you weren’t going anywhere.”

  A flash lit in her eyes. “I think maybe that would be the better idea.”

  Of course, she did. “Well, then get what you need. I’ll drive you home. Do you have someone who can drive you back here to get your car tomorrow?”

  “I have a whole family at my beck and call.”

  That she did, no matter how dysfunctional he thought her family was, she had them, and they looked out for each other. He knew that first hand. In the few months in which he’d known he shared blood with Eric Walker, he’d been included in that family. He still wasn’t used to it, but it was nice.

  “Well then, let’s head out,” he said before she could lure him any further into the dress shop and make him any more uncomfortable looking at her float from side to side.

  Chapter Four

  Pickup trucks were supposed to be amazing, Pearl thought as she held on tightly to the door as Tyson drove down the street. His pickup had to be as old as he was. Hadn’t she seen him driving a beautiful, brand new truck? Why did he bring the one from the ranch into town?

  Because he was a simple man, that was why. He had nothing to prove to anyone she realized very quickly on the quiet drive.

  She’d given him the vaguest of directions, yet he’d driven right to her townhouse.

  “Can you make it in?” he asked as he pulled to the curb and put the truck in park.

  “I’m okay. But would you like to come in for a little bit?” She had to offer. The afternoon wasn’t ending the way she’d hoped it would.

  “I have things to do. I need to get back to work.”

  “Right.” She fished for her keys again. She should get a clasp for her keys that she could hook into her purse. “Thanks for the company this afternoon. I appreciate it.”

  “Sure.”

  “I’ll have the tuxes in a few days before the wedding. I’m sure Susan will pick them up and have them for you.”

  “Works for me.”

  She was stalling here, and he wasn’t buying into it with his short answers.

  “Don’t forget to talk to Eric’s brothers about that bachelor’s party.”

  “Right. I’ll do that,” he said again with his fingers gripped around the steering wheel.

  She had to keep reminding herself that she needed to get out of the damn truck, but she didn’t want to. Something was pulling at her, and she wanted to be right there with him. Perhaps that’s why she decided to lean across the bench seat, rest her hand on Tyson’s cheek, and turn his head until her lips were poised right at his.

  She saw the surprise in his wide open eyes as she gently pressed her lips to his.

  She lingered only long enough to satisfy that immediate need that buzzed inside of her.

  His eyes were still wide when she pulled away. “Thanks again,” she said as she opened the door and hurried out of the truck.

  Breathe. Breathe. Tyson told himself as he watched Pearl slowly walk to the front door of her house, with her shoes in her hand.

  He kept his grip on the steering wheel and
did just as he told himself to do as he watched her open the door and disappear inside.

  Then, for another moment, he sat there until the tingle she’d left on his lips subsided.

  Maybe it would be a good idea to go inside and make sure she was okay. Obviously, she'd had too much to drink to drive home. Perhaps she shouldn’t be alone.

  Forcing himself to put the truck into drive, he pulled away from the curb. No, she was just fine. He’d already spent too much of his day with the woman and damn it, he had responsibilities. As far as he should be concerned, this had all been a waste of his day.

  Pearl watched him drive away from the small window next to the door. What had she done?

  She’d acted like an idiot, that’s what she’d done. Why in the world had she gotten so worked up over him?

  Walking away from the door, she went to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of water out of the refrigerator. Her steady craft beer buzz was wearing off. Maybe she should have just stayed at work and brought her car home later.

  Stupidly enough, she’d thought maybe she could convince Tyson to come in. Maybe they could spend some time together.

  The very thought had her tensing up. What had driven her to be so lonely that she was hitting on her cousin’s family—Lydia’s brother? She’d never made a move on the man—never. But today? What was so stellar about today?

  Pearl walked to the living room and plopped herself down on the couch. She kicked her bare feet up on the coffee table and rested her head back.

  Weddings never used to bother her. She saw happy brides walk in and out of her store all the time. But ever since Susan and Eric got engaged and Bethany and Kent followed right behind, she’d felt the pang of longing for someone.

  Always the bridesmaid, never the bride, she thought to herself as she sipped from the bottle of water.

  But what did it matter? She was thirty-three years old, had her own place, her own business, and her car was paid off. She didn’t need a man for anything—well, except for companionship.

  She squeezed the bottle, and it overflowed onto her lap. With a jump, she came off the couch and cursed. “This is stupid. Tyson Morgan isn’t worth getting all worked up over,” she said aloud as if that would make all the difference.

  It was just the moment she reminded herself as she walked to the kitchen for a towel. People she loved were finding happiness and she would too in time. She was caught up in a moment, and that happened sometimes. In two weeks, Susan and Eric would be married. In another two months after that, her sister would marry Kent, and the family wedding craze would be over.

  Tyson would be at both weddings. That was fine. Pearl was sure once he got home he’d have forgotten all about her little pity party, or whatever it was, and he’d go on with his life.

  They’d be at the same weddings. They’d always have family members in common. No problem, she thought as she dried off her suit. Today was just a strange day, and she was going to write it off like that.

  Once she was dry, she went to her purse and pulled her phone out. She hit the contact with her sister Audrey’s face on it.

  “Hey! Are you working tomorrow?” she asked.

  “Yes. I have to go in at nine. Saturdays at the salon pay well, but they suck,” Audrey added with a grunt.

  “Can you pick me up and take me to my shop?”

  “Sure? Jake fixing your car?”

  That reminded Pearl that she did need an oil change, and she should call her brother. “No. I had a few beers down the street, and Tyson brought me home.”

  There was silence on the other end.

  Pearl looked at the display on her phone to ensure the connection was still there. “Hello.”

  “You went out with Tyson Morgan?” There was discomfort in her sister’s voice.

  “He came and got fitted for his tux. We went down the street for a beer. I had three.”

  “Those have more alcohol in them you know,” she said in her mother-like way.

  “I know. That’s why he drove me home. So will you pick me up?”

  “Sure.” She paused for a moment. “Are you seeing him?”

  “Tyson?” Pearl swallowed hard. “No. Just a Friday afternoon drink. That’s all.”

  “He’s a Morgan,” Audrey said again as if she were reminding her what a bad idea it was to have anything to do with him.

  Pearl got it, but she didn’t buy it. All her sister’s accusations were doing were pissing her off. “I got that. I’m a Walker. Oil and Water. One afternoon of drinks. I’m home alone. No reason to get all bent out of shape over this.”

  “Dad wouldn’t like it.”

  “I don’t give a crap about that. Listen, I have to go. Will you be here around eight-thirty?”

  “Yes. Please don’t make me late.”

  “I won’t,” Pearl said, disconnecting the call with a growl.

  Tyson drove back to home without even the radio on though he hadn’t realized that until he pulled into the large circle drive in front of the house. The sun was low in the sky, giving the fields around the big house a warm glow.

  He smiled to himself, this was home and in time, it would all be his. Lydia had no desire to watch it grow. Sure, thanks to his grandfather, the landscape would soon be marred with oil wells. That was cause for another smile. In time, that too would offer more profits for the ranch.

  Then again, what good was it if he were the only one there?

  His grandfather had a few good years left, but the day would come when he'd pass on. Lydia was all but moved out. Her investments were her way of getting out of the big house and starting her life away from the ranch and the watchful eye of their grandfather.

  Tyson put the truck in park, turned off the engine, and climbed out. When he looked toward the door, his grandfather stood there, his arms crossed over his chest in a rigid stance.

  “Hey, Grandpa,” he said, but his grandfather held his hand up to stop his progress into the house.

  “That’s a farm truck.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “It belongs out back by the barn. Not in front of the house. And why did you take it into town?”

  Tyson ran his hand over the back of his neck. “Susan called and said I had to get to town to get fitted for the wedding. I just took off and headed to town. I’ll take the truck and put it away.”

  “Damn straight you will,” his grandfather said as he turned and closed the front door behind him.

  Tyson turned, kicked the front tire of the truck, and cursed under his breath. There were days he was very jealous of his sister’s forward thinking on getting away from his grandfather.

  He climbed back into the truck and drove away from the house. However, moving the truck and parking it elsewhere wasn’t giving him any satisfaction. Maybe he’d drive out to Eric’s and see what was going on on Walker property. He was fairly sure it had always been more friendly than Morgan property.

  There was also that matter of the bachelor party Pearl mentioned. That would be a great reason just to show up. Anything to not face his grandfather for the rest of the evening.

  He gripped the steering wheel. It was stupid to be forty-two-years-old and cowering from the man who took care of him his whole life—and lied to him as well.

  Either way, he’d probably find Lydia up there riding. And some male bonding with his brother would certainly be more welcomed than being in that huge house alone hiding out in his bedroom like some teenager.

  Perhaps male bonding would take the edge off his afternoon with Pearl. That little impromptu kiss of hers seemed to be still lingering on his lips.

  Chapter Five

  The moment Tyson drove up the dirt road toward Eric’s house, he could see his sister out in the pasture. He’d always teased her that she looked like a boy. Her small stature and her short hair never helped her argument that she did not look like a boy.

  It brought a smile to his lips to watch her. She looked free—yes, free from everything when she rode. It was a beautiful
thing.

  He pulled up and parked outside Eric’s newly built house. It was hard to believe that only six months ago the house had been a pile of ash and stone and that Eric had almost died in that fire.

  He could already see Susan’s womanly touches with the flower pots on the front porch. She was good for Eric. Tyson never thought he would have cared, but he did.

  Before they knew they were brothers, he and Eric had left a few marks on each other. He supposed that could be what they called making up for their lost childhood together. Though, at the time, Tyson was sure, they were both out to kill the other.

  Pulling his truck next to Eric’s, he turned off the engine and looked out over the fields in the direction of his home.

  He’d ridden to the fence hundreds of times when he was younger. What had been so bad on the other side that his grandfather hadn’t wanted him to see? He’d come up with a lot of stories of his own. Though he had never imagined that his biological mother and her other family might be just that close. Who could have known--his grandfather, that's who.

  But as far as he knew, the Walkers were bad people and that was that.

  Nothing could have been further from the truth.

  Susan walked out of the house and waved. He gave her a nod as he climbed out of the truck and shut the door.

  She walked toward him. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Just taking a drive,” he admitted.

  “Pearl said you got your tux fitted. Thank you.”

  He gave her a shrug. “I still don’t know why you want me in your wedding.”

  She reached her hand out and gently placed it on his shoulder. “You are family. Eric’s brother. No matter how the past was written, it doesn’t have to be the future.”

  He nodded. “Funny how things happen, huh?”

  Her eyes were soft as she looked at him. “Can you stay for dinner?”

  “Oh, I don’t…”