Chapter 9

Walker

There’s a crash on the other side of the door, followed by a low-pitched moaning that resembles an injured animal. I twist the doorknob but it’s locked.

“Emi, you okay?’ I knock louder, putting my ear to the door. A scraping sound gets closer until the locks click and the door opens a crack. My heart starts to hammer in my chest at the sight of Emi on the floor, her face twisted in pain.

“Fuck, Emi, move back. I’m coming in.”

She scoots on her butt just enough for me to slip through. When I get inside, I automatically look around for signs of whatever crashed earlier. Nothing looks out of place so I kneel in front of her, inspecting her face and body.

“Babe, what’s going on? Are you okay?” My hands go to her head, tipping her face to mine.

“No,” she groans. “Maren tried to kill me. I’m down for the count, dying, never ever going to be able to walk again. Leave me to die.”

She’s holding her hand to her right hip and pelvis, rubbing in small circles.

“I’m not following. Talk to me.”

“Maren and her fucking yoga. She insisted I try it, I begged her no, then she dared me. I couldn’t look like a chicken…”

It all starts to click into place; the story of her uncoordinated efforts come to mind. I catch her hand as she presses deeper into her inner thigh.

“Lean into me, babe.” I slide one arm under her knees and the other around her back. As gently as possible, I lift and carry her to the sofa.

Her head falls against my chest, and she grips my shirt until I get her settled in my lap. “Yoga injury,” she confesses.

“Did you pull your groin?”

“Yes, how’d you know?”

“Lucky guess.” I try to hide the hilarity in my answer.

Her head snaps up and she gives me an evil glare. “You think this is funny?”

“Not at all,” I lie.

“You do! You’re trying not to laugh at me.”

“Am not.”

“My groin, Walker! Do you know how embarrassing it was? Now, I can’t walk, can hardly crawl, and there are shooting pains from my crotch all the way to my hip. I’m dying, just dying!”

I’m starting to understand the melodramatics the guys at the station warned me about.

“I’ve sprained my groin a few times. I can assure you that you’re not dying.”

“How long will this pain last?”

“I’m not gonna lie, you’ll be uncomfortable for a few days. But with the right care, you’ll heal quicker.”

“Okay, I’ve got loads of stuff to help. No more worries. The pharmacist says you should be able to have sex by next week!” The front door flies open, and Maren comes in carrying bags from the drugstore. She stops quickly, her mouth dropping open when she spots Emi in my lap.

“Oops,” she says, winking at me.

“Maren! Haven’t you embarrassed me enough for one day? Maybe even for a lifetime?” Emi cries out and buries her head in my chest.

“Stop being a baby. Let’s get you taken care of.” She drops the bags on the floor and starts unloading items on the coffee table. “Heating pad, ice pack, arnica, Bengay, muscle tension relief. I got everything the pharmacist recommended.”

“Any chance you were able to get me pain pills?” Emi mutters in my shirt.

“No, unfortunately, she wouldn’t budge on those. Recommended Aleve.”

“Figures, I’m going to start a search tomorrow for a new best friend. First requirement is to be able to steal Oxy when in need. You’re an officer, can you get me some?” Emi raises her face and looks at me hopefully.

“No, babe. Controlled substances aren’t negotiable.”

“Shit.” The hope fades and she sighs in disappointment. “I’m sorry to ruin our night. I was going to make you dinner.”

“I’ll make you dinner after I get you settled.”

“You don’t have to do that, Walker. I’m sure you’d rather be at home than listen to me whine.”

I lean into her, kissing her quickly then laying my forehead against hers. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be. If you want to whine, go ahead.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

There’s a loud sigh from Maren, and we turn to see her watching us with a starry look in her eyes. “I love you with a boyfriend,” she tells Emi.

Emi goes stiff in my arms, her hand clasping my shirt tighter. “Maren!”

“Hey.” I cup the back of Emi’s neck and massage gently, drawing her attention back to me. “You think you can stand long enough to shower?”

“Maybe.”

“Can you help get her undressed and in the shower? I’ll get everything set up out here,” I ask Maren.

“Sure.” She comes around to help Emi walk.

“I got this.” I stand easily with Emi in my arms and look for Maren to lead the way.

Her bathroom is large and spacious with a separate stand up shower. “Let Maren help you. When you get out, put on some comfortable clothes, preferably shorts so we can apply the arnica often. I’ll be in the living room.” I set her down on the vanity and kiss her forehead. “Try not to injure yourself further,” I joke with her.

“If I’m not dying in pain, I’m dying of humiliation.”

“Wait until I show him the video of you in action,” Maren says as she shuts the door.

I chuckle to myself as I take a quick look around the bedroom and see once again, it’s completely opposite of mine. Similar to her living room, she has a lot of brightly colored accent pillows on her bed and side chair. Picture frames cover most surfaces, along with clutter. There is hardly an inch of free space anywhere.

In her living room, I grab the ice pack, then go to the kitchen to fill it. There’s a full six-pack of my brand of beer in the fridge, and I pop one open as I stare at the contents, trying to figure out what to make.

“I’ll take care of dinner.” Maren comes in and reaches in front of me to get a bottle of wine.

“You left her by herself?”

“She’s a big baby, but if you’re worried, don’t be. She’s soaking in the tub. We got her propped up, and she’s given me explicit instructions on how to make dinner.” She pours two glasses of wine, returns the bottle, and gets out a Ziploc of cooked chicken breast.

“Can you slice these thinly on a diagonal and preheat the oven? You’re having roasted chicken pizza with gorgonzola and broccoli. Em said you’re a health nut.” She points to the knife rack and cutting board on the counter. “I’ll be right back.”

I do as she says, grinning that Emi caught onto my healthy eating habits. The chicken is ready when she joins me again.

“Have a seat. let me show you what happened.”

I do as she says and take her phone when she offers it, pressing play on the video.

A group of mostly women stand around in a circle as an incredibly skilled woman, who I assume is the instructor, demonstrates what she wants the class to do. A few people line up and attempt to follow her lead. That’s when I spot Emi on the far side, away from most people, looking panicked. She’s shaking her head rapidly, mouthing ‘no’ to the instructor.

When I found her on the floor earlier, I didn’t notice her outfit, but now, I take the time to appreciate the form-fitting black yoga pants and matching tank. Every curve is on display, and if she’d just tilt to the left, I could see her ass fully. My dick starts to swell, thinking about peeling her out of the outfit.

There’s always next time.

“Don’t be a sissy, Em! Try it, I dare you!” Maren’s voice rings out on the recording, bringing me back to the class.

Emi flashes her eyes to the camera, fire blazing, and flips Maren off, then starts to crouch. She’s unsteady on her feet; even from a distance, I see her calves twitching. Arms cross in front of her as she goes to balance on one foot, stretching the other horizontally. Then it happens. She loses balance, starts to wobble, and her balancing foot slips. She lands awkwardly on the extended leg in a one-sided split and howls.

“Oh, shit,” Maren is heard muttering just before the video cuts off.

“Fuck,” I cringe, cupping my cock and groin with sympathy pains shooting down my leg. “Why were you taping this?”

“To show her afterwards she could do it.”

“That didn’t work out too well,” I point out.

“I know, that’s why I’m plying her with wine, making your dinner, and giving you an out. I’ll stay so you aren’t subjected to the endless torture of her tonight.” She starts rolling pizza dough onto a round stone.

“I’m not going anywhere.” She stops mid-roll and flashes me an approving smile.

“Good answer.”

“What kind of fucking men have you women dated?” I may not be the poster child for relationships, but I know how to treat a woman.

“Well, as you know, I dated the limp-dick of all assholes. She told me she told you about him. Emi’s never dated. I mean, she’s had dates, she’d had sex—”

“Stop right there,” I growl, not interested in hearing more.

“Oooh, the possessive type?”

I start to tell her exactly how possessive I can be, but take a large slug of beer instead.

“Help me!” Emi screams, and I leap up, the chair falling back, ready to get to her.

“Let me.” Maren puts a hand to my chest. “She’s naked and embarrassed.”

“I’ve seen naked women before,” I protest.

“Yes, but we both know this is different.”

“Call me when she’s dressed and I’ll come get her.”

She nods and I follow her out of the kitchen. She goes to Emi’s room, while I go to clear the couch for Emi to lay. A few minutes later, they appear in the hallway, Emi leaning on Maren’s shoulder, hobbling in.

I go to her, lifting her and laying her down on the chaise until she assures me she’s comfortable. Maren disappears, leaving us alone.

“I’m going to rub some arnica in the area, and then we’re going to alternate between ice packs and heating pads for most of the night.” I prop her leg on my knee and massage the ointment on the injured area tenderly. When I get to the ligament, she inhales sharply and I go slower, feeling the tightening beneath my fingers.

“Do you have your gun?” She whimpers.

“I always have my gun.”

“Can I shoot Maren? This is all her fault.”

“You’ll be fine soon. No need for first degree murder.”

“How about manslaughter?” she asks so seriously, I stop rubbing to stare at her.

“How about a kiss instead?” I position her leg back and shift to her side, sliding my arm around her shoulders.

“Thank you, Walker,” she says softly, cupping my cheek and bringing her lips to mine.

“Always, Emi.”

I sweep her hair off her forehead and pat the back of her head lightly. “Time to move, gorgeous.”

She lets out a mix between a huff and a snort, clutching my forearm and nuzzling into my neck. My arm tingles where it long ago fell asleep when Emi laid across me. I may have protested that her lounger was too small when she begged me to lay with her, but I was wrong. It’s a tight squeeze, but we fit. That is if you count her lying basically on top of me. I didn’t mind, and she passed out almost immediately, her small snores vibrating on my chest as I watched TV. Every hour, I alternated between placing ice and heat on her groin for twenty minutes. She slept through most of it, murmuring something indiscernible each time I got up, then quickly making herself comfortable.

“Emerson?” I circle my thumb on the skin below her ear. “Let’s see if I can get you to bed.”

“Don’t you ever sleep?” she mumbles groggily.

“I’ll sleep much better once we get to a bed.”

“I think Maren drugged me. She put drugs in our pizza.”

“I ate the same pizza and I’m fine.”

“Yeah, but you’re a big guy. You probably wouldn’t notice.”

“I can assure you I’d notice. Besides, if you were drugged, I doubt you’d wake up every hour to let me take care of your leg.”

“Ummmmm, that felt nice.” Her moan sends a direct message to my dick, which starts to stir. It’s been an uphill battle all night with her situated on me, but I’ve kept reminding myself she’s hurt. But when she moans like that, all bets are off.

“Up we go.” I bend at the waist, sitting us up, careful of her position.

“No, wait.” She flattens the hand that’s holding my forearm, and braces. “I think I can walk.”

“Tomorrow, you’ll walk. Tonight, I’ve got you.” I untangle our bodies, my arm shooting with fiery prickles as the circulation flows. Ignoring the discomfort, I get to my feet, bringing her with me.

“I like this.” She places a hand on my shoulder to hold on. “It’s hot that you can carry me like I weigh nothing and take care of me.”

“Hot, huh?” I peek down at her and stop mid step. Her eyes are glazed over with sleep, but she’s staring at me so adoringly my stomach gets the familiar buzz that only she can cause.

“Hot, Walker Scott, you are so hot. I’ve hit the jackpot.”

“There’s still a lot you have to learn about me, Emi. I can assure you I’m not a jackpot.”

“You are to me.” Her eyes flutter closed again and she lets out a breath, falling back asleep.

“Emi?” She doesn’t answer or stir, even when I bend to put her in bed. Thankfully, Maren pulled back her sheets before she left, leaving me to tuck her in.

I kiss her cheek before going to turn off the lights and make sure the doors are locked. There’s a bottle on the counter I didn’t notice when I cleaned the kitchen. I look closer at the label and laugh quietly. Maren didn’t exactly drug Emi, unless you count Aleve PM mixed with two large glasses of white wine.

I pick up the duffle bag I dropped earlier and make my way to her bathroom to get ready for bed. My watch reads four a.m., which means I usually need to get up soon to work out, but seeing as I missed today and Emi’s condition, looks like I’ll miss again. Quickly, I change and brush my teeth then head back to her.

She’s sitting up in bed, looking around, confused until her eyes meet mine. They soften immediately, and she pats the spot next to her. I crawl in, careful of her position until she plops across me and starts running her fingers along my tattoo again.

“I love your tattoos,” she whispers.

“I’m glad.”

“I want one now.” She slurs a bit.

“Where?”

“I don’t know. I’ll let you decide.”

My heart beat races and I start to ask more, but her warm breath coats my chest and she’s back asleep.

I reach over and turn off the lamp, my mind spinning with so many things, all of them revolving around Emerson.

The rebel rouser from Summerville that caused trouble every chance he got. The Army grunt who was a sure bet to drop out. The soldier who proved everyone wrong and became an officer of the law.

The same man who has Emerson in his arms, her sweet body wrapped around me in her bed. The man she thinks is hot, piercing me with those honey brown eyes that could bring me to my knees.

Never has a woman gotten to me from only one look—until her.

I know she’s a handful, she’s lived up to her reputation, but from this point on, she’s mine.