A month later
“ANYONE WANT PIE?” NANA tosses her napkin onto the table next to her glass of tea. “I made chocolate, pecan, and coconut.”
“Coconut,” says Peck.
“Chocolate,” Machlan chimes in, shoving the last piece of meatloaf into his mouth.
Lance doesn’t bother to look up from his phone. “Chocolate.”
“Are your legs broken?” I ask from my perch on Walker’s knee. “At least get your butts up and bring the pies in here for her to cut.” I’m cinched closer to my man, his arms locked at my belly as the Gibson boys look at me like I just asked them to scale Mount Everest. “Did I stutter?”
“You go get them,” Lance chirps. “I’m busy.”
“Busy doing what?” Walker leans forward, taking me with him, as he tries to snatch Lance’s phone from his hand. “Whatcha doing there, bud?”
The grin on Lance’s face says it all. “Nothing I’m going to describe as we sit at our grandmother’s familial table.”
“Good boy,” Nana laughs, resting back in her chair. “But Sienna is right. You boys bring the pie in and I’ll cut it.”
“We had a good thing going until you showed up,” Machlan teases, sending a wink my way.
They get to their feet and traipse into the kitchen. I nestle back into Walker’s chest again, closing my eyes as the sunlight warms my face and his heartbeat warms my soul. The only imperfect thing about today is the little splinter in my pointer finger from helping with the treehouse last night.
I never thought, in a million years, that I would feel as comfortable with another family as I do my own. But I do. This crazy, foul-mouthed, not quite politically correct gaggle of boys and their Nana have changed my entire world.
Walker’s home is becoming mine as we paint the walls, strip the cabinets, and replace flooring. The only argument we really have is that I want to just pay for it all to be done now and he wants to wait and get it done as he can afford it. It drives me insane, but I respect it. He’s frugal, not so different than my brother Graham, really, except Walker is this way because he has to be. Graham watches the bottom line because he doesn’t want to ever have to worry about watching it. The two of them bonded over talk of savings accounts interest rates the other day.
The sound of a plate breaking in the kitchen is enough to get Nana to her feet. “Should’ve just done it myself.”
Giggling, I watch her disappear through the doors. “She’s one of a kind.”
“That she is,” Walker says, his voice hot against my ear. He burrows his face into the crook of my neck and presses a sweet kiss in the bend. “And so are you.”
My heart flutters, the smile on my lips that’s been there for the last few weeks growing even wider. I place my hands on top of his at my stomach and just melt into him. “How long do we have to stay here?”
“You wanting round three?” he grins against my skin.
“Yes,” I breathe, flushing.
His hand slips from under mine. It slides down my stomach, over the top of my jeans, until his palm is lying just above my clit. The pressure incites every nerve ending in my body to fire and I wiggle, needing more contact.
“I can feel how hot you are through your jeans,” he growls against my cheek. “Damn it, girl.”
Rotating my hips, digging my ass into his lap, his cock pushes back. “That,” I almost moan, “is hot.”
“Will you two stop it?” Lance snorts as he walks back in with two pieces of pie. “You shouldn’t be fornicating at Nana’s table.”
“My dick is in my pants. Sadly,” Walker points out, his fingers tapping against the denim between my legs.
“I’m eating this,” Lance says, scooping up a chunk of chocolate pie, “and then I’m off to get my dick out of my pants.”
“Nobody wants to hear that,” Walker laughs.
Clenching my legs together to keep his hand in place, I try to refocus. “Who are you meeting?” I ask Lance.
“Nerdy Nurse.” His fork pauses mid-air. “Sounds like a good time to me.”
“You don’t even know her name?” Walker asks.
“I don’t need her name to fuck her,” Lance shrugs, shoveling more pie into his mouth. “I just want to get off, and by the look of the messages she just sent me, she is up for the challenge.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” Cringing, I grab a napkin and hand it to him. “You aren’t eating with her, are you? Because that’s a huge turn off.”
“He won’t be eating with her,” Machlan chuckles, coming back into the room. “Eating her, maybe.” He switches his attention to me. “Did you get the design contract you were after?”
I wriggle until Walker sighs and releases me from his clutches. Just thinking about the job I just landed keeps me from sitting still. It’s driving Walker crazy that I’m up all night playing with designs, colors, and fabrics, but I can’t help it.
“I did,” I almost coo. “I’m so excited. I’ll have to make it my sole focus for the next six months or so and will probably even have to go to Los Angeles once or twice to meet with the owners and get a good feel for what they’re after. But this is so, so exciting. I’m in heaven.”
“Too bad she’s not saying that about your bedroom,” Machlan says, looking at Walker.
“Oh, that’s beyond heaven,” I say, moving behind Walker and laying my arms across his wide shoulders. “That’s perfection.”
Lance’s phone chimes. It takes him all of two seconds to get his plate on the table and the device in front of his face. “It’s been fun, but I gotta run,” he says, not looking up. “Holy shit. She can do that?”
“Let me see,” Machlan says, craning his neck. “If there’s anything left of her, I’ll have a shot of that.”
“There won’t be.” Lance gives us a little salute and disappears into the kitchen, Machlan on his tail.
We watch them move past the windows on their way to their cars, Walker reaching up and taking my hand. He holds it reverently, kissing the top.
There’s something meaningful about the moment, but I don’t quite understand what.
“You okay?” I ask softly, laying my cheek on top of his head.
“Just thinking you’re still here.”
“Should I be anywhere else?”
“Is that a loaded question?” he chuckles, urging me around the chair so I’m sitting on his lap again. “Thank you.”
Gazing into his sweet, brown eyes, I smile. “For what?”
“For being you. For being here.” He holds me, cuddles me so close that I can barely breathe. “I have one request though.”
“I’m not into anal.”
His chest bounces as he laughs. “I heard you last night.”
“Good. Because I was serious.” Pulling away, I can’t keep the grin off my face.
“Dave was in yesterday and he thanked me for not charging him for the catalytic converter Peck put in his truck.”
“Oh,” I say, trying to get off his lap. “Not where I thought this was going.”
We both look up as Peck walks in. He stops as soon as he enters. “I’m coming in the middle of something, aren’t I?”
“You need to go,” I say, shooing him away.
“Stick around,” Walker offers. “Pull up a seat.”
Peck laughs and takes a step back. “I definitely want to go now.”
Walker leans back, the most peaceful smile in the world planted on his kissable lips. “If you two don’t stop giving my stuff away . . .”
“She’s the boss,” Peck says, holding his hands up. “I can’t argue with her.”
“You argue with her about every-fucking-thing else!”
“Not totally true,” Peck challenges. “And you told me whatever she wants, to do it. She wanted to fix the truck.”
Walker looks at me. There’s a twinkle buried in his eye that makes me want to kiss him, but I don’t. Instead, I cup his cheeks in my hand. “I owe you.”
“You’ve owed me since the day you met me.”
“And you haven’t let me get even yet,” I say, kissing him. Our lips touch sweetly, at first, and as his fingers dig into my hips, his tongue swipes across mine. “Oh,” I moan, feeling the ache building in my thighs.
He breaks the kiss, his breath as strangled as mine. “I can’t let you get even. You might leave me.”
“Oh, baby,” I laugh, pulling his hand until he stands up. “There’s not a chance.”
He lets me lead him through the house, pausing to tell Nana thanks for dinner. In no time at all, we’re out the back door.
Nana’s sheets are hanging off the clothesline, the last of her tomatoes lined up along the railing of the porch to ripen in the late afternoon sun.
A breeze trickles through the yard, a slight hint of the cold that’s sure to come. I used to blanch at the idea of winter in Illinois. It doesn’t seem so bad now.
Looking up, I see Walker watching me. “Where are we going?” he asks, his voice alight with humor.
“You can have sex with me on a random dirt road or at Crank because it’s fairly close,” I say, as he opens the passenger’s side door of Daisy for me. “But pick. Quick.”
“Ah,” he says, leaning against the truck. “There is a Mustang pulled in one of the Crank bays now. Could be fun.”
Leaning out of the truck, I grab the door handle and pull it closed. “Get in.”
His laughter finds my ears, his love fills my heart.
As we pull out of Nana’s and onto the gravel road, I watch the fields go by.
Just a few months ago, I didn’t know where I belonged and I definitely didn’t think it was in a place with cornfields and snowstorms. But I was wrong.
You belong in a place where you can plant your roots and feel safe enough to let them grow. You belong somewhere your tank is filled as much as you take from it. You belong in the little niche of the world where you can’t imagine waking up anywhere different.
As Walker takes my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, this is it for me. This is the place I’m spreading my wings and trusting the rowdy Gibson boys to have my back. It’s somewhere I feel like it would be impossible to give as much as they give to me. Despite the cold on the horizon and the miles away from anyone or anything Landry, being anywhere else isn’t an option.
I, without a doubt, belong here. With him.
“Hey,” Walker says, shaking my thigh. “What are you thinking about over there?”
I could tell him and get all sappy and find myself gushing over how much I love him. Instead, I grin. “I really hate going to the laundromat.”
“That’s what you’re thinking about?”
“It smells funny and I hate lugging in the soap and sitting there forever.”
He pulls back a little and looks at me with a furrowed brow. “Why do I think this is a lead-in?”
“What would you say if I told you I bought all new towels for the shop?”
“Sienna . . .”
“Walker . . .” I mock, scooting into the middle of the truck and leaning my head on his shoulder. “It’s a good thing you love me.”
His arm settles around my shoulders and tugs me into his side. “It’s a damn good thing I do.”
THE END
Vincent, Peck’s brother, will have a novella coming out in December called CROSS.
CRAFT will follow Lance Gibson and will release in January. Sign up to get an Alert when they’re live.
Would you like to meet the Landry family?
The first chapter of Sway starts on the next page.