Chapter Three
Everyone Loves Walt
Wally kept pace with me as I walked swiftly toward the beach area. After the ‘flamer’ comment, I decided I wasn’t going to become ensnared in whatever antagonistic game he was playing. All those years of mentorship from my mother about managing my stress had paid off. I used the self-calming techniques she’d taught me, and simply grabbed hold of the rage caused by Wally’s comment. I isolated that rage, quarantining it before it could spread. Mentally surrounding it with blue, soothing energy from the forest, I cast it off and watched it float away.
Wally was quiet as he walked alongside me now, but kept stealing glances, like he was annoyed that the comment hadn’t summoned a reaction. Why he was trying to antagonize me when it clearly went against his own best interests, I couldn’t begin to understand. But it was beginning to look like he was not going to be an easy companion this summer. I couldn’t believe I’d agreed to this. I must have been out of my mind. I wanted to be rid of him as soon as possible, get him the hell out of my sight. So, I was taking him the boathouse to dump him with Damarcus and Gil. Maybe some of Damarcus’s inner peace would rub off on him.
Gullport Salt Pond was a coastal inlet, and because of the lagoon barrier, the water was consistently calm, great for guests who’d be swimming and fishing and boating. I could see a smattering of Beaver Tail’s red and yellow kayaks out there on the water already, and smiled. I realized a long time ago that I was a lucky son of a bitch to have been born into this family business. Everyone who came to Beaver Tail was here for the sole reason of finding some peace and enjoyment, whether it was for an extended vacation or a single afternoon. I got to make people happy for a living, and that made me happy.
My greatest stress in running this place was fearing someone might get hurt on my watch, but that hadn’t happened thus far. It had been a close call with Bucky tumbling into the forest, thanks to the asshole walking alongside me. I was counting my blessings that scar on Wally’s forehead was the only human damage from the incident. Not that I exactly enjoyed the fact that he got hurt. But better him than a guest.
A wide pebbled driveway led down to the boat launch, from which our private beach spread off to the right. Then came the waterfront cabins, a row of them dotted along the curve of the shore, each with a decent space between them to afford privacy. But before reaching the launch, I turned right and headed up a grassy hill toward the boathouse, a big redwood structure holding all the canoes and kayaks and fishing equipment. I could see Damarcus outside handing life jackets to a young couple, and Gil was down on the beach helping a group of kids launch their canoes.
“Hey, slow down,” Wally said. “Where we going?”
“I’m taking you to Damarcus.”
“Oh. That sounds ominous. Is Damarcus the emperor? Is he going to have me stoned to death?”
“He runs boat rentals and does maintenance around the property. I’m sure he’ll put you to good use.” I quickened my pace.
“Hang on, Jude!”
Wally gripped my upper arm, pulling me to a stop. I’m not sure what my eyes showed when I turned and glared at him, but he immediately let go and took a step back. “Sorry. Are you mad? You look mad. Your cheeks are all...” He fanned his face. “Flaming.”
“Oh, you like that word, huh?”
“Oh, is that it?” He rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry I asked if you were a flamer like my brother. But come on, I heard your phone conversation. It’s not like I’m grasping at straws here.”
I took a moment to calm, because I wanted to strangle him. I wasn’t sure if he’d had too much caffeine, was nervous, or just your garden variety asshole, but he simply could not seem to shut his trap. And everything that came out of it was either sarcastic or some sort of insult. “Look Walt, I don’t even know how to begin unpacking why you’d feel comfortable spouting that garbage you just said. And I have no desire to, so I’ll leave it at this. First, it’s none of your business. Second, that’s an ugly fucking slur, so do not use it again in my presence.”
“Oh, so it was the word you objected to. I’m sorry, I’ll rephrase. Are you a homosexual like my brother?”
“You really don’t act like a guy who needs this situation to work out. You’re on a court order, so while you’re here, I’m your boss. I expect you to show me respect. If you don’t like it, then go get your three hots and a cot in jail; I promise you, it is no skin off my nose.”
Finally, a reaction. His cheeks paled, and a deep furrow formed between his brows. “That’s uncalled for. I might have used offensive wording, but I broached that particular subject because I wanted to help you out.”
“I can’t wait to hear this. How does asking invasive questions and calling me names help me out?”
“He has a boyfriend.”
“Who?”
“You know who. His boyfriend is Terry. My lawyer.”
“I am not discussing this with you. Let’s go.”
I started toward the boathouse again and Wally followed. “You don’t believe me?”
“Shea already told me he and Terry date. And why would you tell me that, anyway? I thought you and Shea were close. Sounds like you’re warning me against him.”
“We are close. I’m not trying to cockblock my baby brother. I just felt bad for you. I understand it’s easy to like Shea. He’s...Shea. You sounded so excited on the phone with him. It was embarrassing.”
“Do you ever shut up? I thought you didn’t like conversation. Go back to that.”
“So you knew about Terry?”
“Yes, Walt, I knew. Your brother was very honest with me. He said it’s not serious and that they date other people.”
He chuckled. “Unbelievable. You already knew he’s got a guy, but you immediately lined up to play second fiddle. Came off as desperate, you know. Should have at least played a little hard to get.”
“Fuck you.”
“Oh, sure, Shea and Terry do their whole ‘We’re so modern and uninhibited, we won’t define ourselves’ bullshit, but lemme tell you something, Jude. Family functions? Weekends away? Birthday dinners? Weddings and funerals? Shea brings Terry with him.”
“So?”
“So? It’s his boyfriend. In everything but name.”
“Yeah, well, things can change.”
“Oh really?” Walt stopped walking and doubled over, laughing. “Things can change?”
“Okay, cut the shit. I’m done with this conversation.”
“Things can change,” he repeated. “Lemme tell you something about Terry. He’s good looking.”
“So what?”
“I mean, really good looking. Also, Terry Carlyle is a successful attorney, he’s got a black belt in Judo or some shit, is a gourmet cook, and he owns three homes. You run a campground and you work for your mom.”
“It’s not a campground. And fuck off, Walter. I happen to like my mother. I happen to like my job. I like who I am. I like my life. And I like your brother. Therefore, I’m going to dinner with him, because he obviously likes me too. So thanks so much for the pep talk, but I do not need your help.”
“Okay. Don’t come crying to me when he ditches you cold.”
“I assure you, I will not come crying to you for anything.”
Damarcus was busy outside, so I led Wally into the boathouse to get him started. He ran his fingers along the boats still stacked up in cradles. “That’s a lot of kayaks.”
“It’s one of the draws of staying at Beaver Tail. Guests have free access to the boats. Outside visitors pay to rent them.”
“You’ve got how many acres here on your property?”
“A lot. My grandfather bought the land way back when Gullport was barely settled. Needless to say, it’s worth a hell of a lot more now.”
“Would you guys ever sell it?”
“Not for all the money in the world.”
“Huh. Do you have campsites out in the woods? People tent out?”
“No. Just hiking trails. It’s not a campground.”
“Looks like a campground.”
“Well, it’s not. It’s a motel with cabins. The hiking trails and woods are amenities, just like the salt pond and the boats.”
“You could seriously increase your yearly profit if you started allowing tents overnight out in the woods. All that land, just sitting there?”
“I don’t need business advice from you, thanks.” I began flipping through the log book.
“You keep your logs on paper? Probably be easier if you used a computer program for it. Shit, especially with all the people that use the boats. Is that log just for today?”
“This one’s for the past week.”
“Still. That’s a lot.”
“I told you, a lot of people come here because of the salt pond. We’re used to the volume.”
He leaned over my shoulder, sneering. “These are a mess! I can’t even read your handwriting.”
“That’s Gil’s handwriting, and I can read it just fine.”
I was hoping Damarcus would come in soon, so I wouldn’t be stuck training Sir Yaps-a-lot here. I needed to be away from him. He was standing too close to me, and despite everything, I wasn’t immune. I’d been insanely smitten with him once, and little flashes of excitement still plagued me each time I met his gorgeous brown eyes. That his body was so mouthwatering wasn’t helping the situation. “Can you back up a couple feet please?”
“What do you mean?”
I closed my eyes, frustrated. I could feel his damn body heat. “You’re in my personal space. I can show you this without you climbing onto my back. Back up.”
“Oh, so sorry, Your Highness.” He took an exaggerated step back. “Should I walk four paces behind you at all times, too?”
“Just, here.” I shoved the logbook at him. “Take a look and tell me if you have any questions. It should be self-explanatory. You can help Damarcus and Gil sign boats out, and of course, whatever physical stuff they need help with, carrying and such.”
He perused the logbook, sneering. “What if someone’s out kayaking and they get in trouble or drown or have a heart attack, and you don’t realize they haven’t come back in because the ink gets smeared on your ‘log book’ here.”
“That could never happen.”
“I can see smeared ink right here. Of course it could happen.”
“Damn it, Walt...we’ve got it under control!”
“Doesn’t look very under control to me.”
“Would you rather clean toilets? Because that can be arranged.”
“Is that supposed to scare me? I just replaced an entire bathroom in my house.”
“Look. No boats or guests have ever been lost. You’re here to do what I say, not to change how things are run. We don’t need tents in the woods. And we don’t need a new log system for the fucking boats.”
“You shouldn’t swear,” he said with a smirk. “A lot of kids on the property.”
“Fuck off.”
“Okay, okay. Don’t want any of my advice? Fine. I get it. I only ran a five-star hotel for eight years. But what do I know?”
“Well, thanks for your input, but I don’t need it, Wally.”
As I turned around, his big body stepped in front of me. He set the logbook down and placed his hands on his hips, eyes narrowed. “What did you just call me?”
Fuck. I blinked at him, my pulse in my throat. “Walt.”
“No. You said Wally. You trying to be cute or something?”
“No. Just got your name wrong. Is that a crime? You forgot mine five minutes after I introduced myself.”
Narrowed brown eyes continued to regard me. I turned away and tried to ignore them. I braced myself, waiting for him to finally admit he knew me. Calling him by his childhood nickname obviously sparked something. He was at least going to ask if we knew each other in the past, right? Even Shea figured that out when I used the name.
But he didn’t say a word. He just stared, silent.
As I went through the logbook and mindlessly explained our system, a shakiness took hold of me. Wally continued to eye me suspiciously, like he was trying to solve a riddle but couldn’t quite get it.
It was then I got a definitive answer to the mental conflict I’d been wrestling with all morning, since the moment my mother handed me that page with Wally’s name on it. The panic I felt inside right now revealed the truth. I absolutely did not want to confront Wally Cook about the past. And it wasn’t just about dredging up bad memories.
I was afraid.
Afraid I’d feel as small and unimportant as I did that night. Afraid he wouldn’t be sorry. Afraid I wasn’t as strong as I thought I was, as healed. Afraid I’d feel as used and worthless as the thirteen-year-old boy I used to be.
I was afraid that Wally Cook could still cause me pain. And right now, I was afraid to be near him, because of the way he was looking at me. I needed to get away from him.
Like an answer to my prayer, Damarcus came bounding into the boathouse, a big smile on his face. “What’s up, Jude? Who’s this?”
“This is Walt,” I said. “And he’s all fucking yours.”
****
The shower at one of the cabins decided to crap out, because apparently my day wasn’t shitty enough already. I’d spent the remainder of the afternoon driving back and forth from the hardware store and then playing plumber. It was edging toward six by the time I finished, and my stomach had butterflies, because it was about time to go home and get ready for my date with Shea.
I ran into Lindy as I was heading toward the beach. “Hey, I met your new friend Walt,” she said with a grin.
“Is he still here?”
“Yeah, he’s still here. He gave me a great idea for something to do with my groups.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. He’s full of unsolicited advice.”
“No, it was good, I’m actually excited about it. We’re gonna have the kids dig for clams one day. It’ll be a learning experience of course. But then we’ll have a big clambake so they can enjoy the fruits of their labor. We’ll have to order extra clams from the market to feed everyone, but it should be fun.”
“We?”
“Me and Walt.”
“Ah, I don’t think Walt’s here for clambakes and parties, Lind.”
“No, it’s fine. I asked mom and she said it still counts as community service. You can help out too. We can drag those big grills down onto the beach. Get some corn on the cob. Some chicken in case anyone’s allergic to seafood. Maybe next week.”
“I don’t know if it’s a good idea. To be honest, I don’t think you should have Walt around the kids.”
“Why not? Mom said he’s here to help everyone. You can’t just hoard him.”
“He’s a criminal.”
“Oh, please. He’s harmless. And he was great with the kids, they loved him!”
My face heated with annoyance. “When did you talk to him? He’s supposed to be helping Damarcus.”
“He is. We were coming back from our hike. Walt was cleaning out the equipment shed. The kids got a kick out of him, he made them laugh. He’s a really funny guy. And holy shit, he’s a hottie.”
I sneered so hard my entire face probably folded in half. “No, he is not a hottie. He’s Wally Cook.”
“And? What does that mean?”
I bit my tongue. Lindy was young when my father died, younger than me, so I’d never shared details with her about what happened to me that night. She didn’t need me bringing it up, Dad’s death had been rough on her too. For months she wouldn’t go to sleep without my father’s big woolen coat wrapped around her, and the sound of that little girl weeping and crying out for him in the middle of the night still haunted me.
But there was no way I was going to allow her to start thinking about Wally as a romantic option. “Lindy, come on. You know why he’s here.”
“Yes, of course. He’s doing community service.”
“Exactly. Because he’s the one who smashed the beaver!”
“Yeah? Well he can smash my beaver any time.”
“Melinda!”
She cackled and pumped her hips while I glared at her. “Smash it, baby.”
“Stop. I’m gonna rewind time so I can make that image go away.”
“Relax, I’m not into him. I just said he’s hot. You heading home?”
“Yeah. Going out tonight.”
“Oh good, have fun. I’m leaving for the day. See you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight.”
As I approached the beach, I saw both Gil and Damarcus still working outside, but no sign of Wally. Damarcus removed his fishing hat and flung it at me like a Frisbee. “I told you something good would come out of that whole Bucky thing.”
I caught the hat and tossed it back. “What do you mean?”
“Walt. He’s amazing.”
“He is?”
“Jude, for real. That guy is fucking smart. He borrowed my tablet and developed a whole new system for boat rentals, designed a computer program for it, all on his own. He’s got skills, man.”
“Oh. He did, huh?” Add ‘insubordination’ to my list of gripes with the fucker. I’d directly told him the logs were fine as is.
“Yeah, it’ll make things so much easier, honestly. Neater too. As Walt pointed out, those logs were a fucking mess.”
I ground my teeth.
“And he cleaned out the equipment shed and reorganized it, wait ’til you see, there’s so much more room. It’s not all cluttered now.”
“You talking about Walt?” Gil stepped up, a goofy grin on his sunburned face.
“Jesus Gil,” I said. “Wear a hat. You’re all burned.”
He ran a palm over his crewcut. “I know, that’s what Walt said. I lost mine, so he’s gonna bring me one tomorrow, says he has a bunch of cool fishing hats he doesn’t use.”
“Oh. What a guy.”
“He’s great, right? Today flew by having him around. He’s a fucking riot.”
“He is funny,” Damarcus concurred.
Of course. Everybody loved Wally. Hadn’t it always been that way? I shouldn’t have been surprised. But inside I seethed. “Where is he now?”
Damarcus and Gil both frowned. “He’s in the woods,” Gil said. “Went for a walk.”
“Is he coming back? I have a thing tonight and I have to get ready. I don’t know if I’m supposed to drive Saint Walt home, or if his roommate got his truck fixed and is picking him up.”
“I don’t know, but I’d give him a minute,” Damarcus said. “He got a call that upset him.”
“Yeah, he was pissed. I felt really bad for him.”
“What are you talking about? What call?”
“Someone he sure didn’t want to talk to,” Gil said. “He was saying like, how did you get this number? Leave me the fuck alone. Said he was gonna get a restraining order. Maybe it’s his ex.”
“Nah.” Damarcus shook his head. “I heard him say ‘Dad’ at one point. Pretty sure it was his father.”
“Damn,” Gil said. “I thought I had problems with my dad.”
“Which way did he go?”
“Down the Clover Trail,” Damarcus said. “You might wanna give him some space though. Like I said, he was...” Damarcus whistled a breath out. “Wow. Upset.”
“Yeah, really upset,” Gil said. “I told him to take a walk. He seemed grateful.”
“I told him to take a walk, not you,” Damarcus said.
“What does it matter? He knew we were both okay with him taking a break.”
“I’m just saying. It was me who suggested he take a walk. Regardless, Jude, you should give the guy a minute.”
I had to struggle not to roll my eyes, because I was witnessing something I’d seen in the distant past. Friends competing for Wally’s favor. Already wrapped around his finger. “I don’t have a minute to give him,” I said. “I need to find out if he needs a damn ride or not. I’ve got plans tonight.”
“Wow,” Damarcus said. “You’re in a mood. What’s up?”
“Yeah, you’re acting weird,” Gil said. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit, I know you,” Damarcus said. “What is it?”
“I’m fine.”
Putting an end to their inquiries about my state of mind, I turned away from my friends and stormed off down the Clover Trail. Fuck Walt and his feelings. Let Damarcus and Gil fall for it if they wanted. I knew better. I owed Walt Cook nothing. Not my sympathy. Not my understanding. Nothing.
And when had I started thinking of him as Walt and not Wally? It wasn’t because he acted like such a grownup that I could no longer relate him to his boyhood self. He was still an annoying, immature little shit. Okay, he wasn’t little, by any means, but he was still a shit. Regardless, I was pleased to have begun thinking of him as Walt, it meant I likely wouldn’t slip up again and call him Wally.
If he’d gone down this trail, he’d gone pretty damn far, because I’d been walking for a while now with no sign of him. I was about to call his name when I heard him curse, a loud “Fuck!” somewhere off to my right.
Leaving the trail, I walked through the woods, stepping over logs, and slapping branches out of my face. I heard Walt curse again, then a loud growl, and through the trees I spotted him. He paced a circle, then picked up a long, fallen branch. Winding up, he smashed it against the trunk of a thick maple tree—once, twice, three times, all the while shouting, “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!”
On the fourth whack, the branch shattered. Walt tossed the broken pieces violently to the ground, then kicked the tree.
“Don’t hit the trees.”
He whirled around, black hair wild and disheveled. “Jude...I...” He glanced back at the tree, and then looked down, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry. Just got a call that pissed me off.”
When his hand lowered, his fingers trembled. Face flushed, I could see the pulse drumming in his neck. Damn it. I didn’t want to feel for him. But that deep panic rose inside me, instilled by years of my mother’s overprotectiveness. I couldn’t bear to see anyone, even this prick, let his stress get the better of him. I knew he was young and healthy, and likely not about to have a stroke. But against my better judgement, I felt compelled to try calming him down. I cursed my mother for making me this way. I didn’t want to give a shit whether Walter Cook fell down dead or not.
Distraction would probably work as a first step, to take his mind off what was affecting his body. “Burn your anger off if you must,” I said. “But don’t hit the trees. They’re alive.”
“I know they’re alive,” he snapped. “But it’s not like they can feel.”
“Sure they can. Trees communicate via a root network. They warn each other about pests or drought. They have a lifeforce in a way. Just like us.”
My distraction was working. Walt still looked angry, but he was focused on me now. “You seem like a decent enough guy, Jude. But that is some fucking hippie bullshit right there.”
“Is it?”
“Pshht. You cut the trees up for firewood, don’t you?”
“Sure.”
“Well? Do they scream?”
“No. They don’t scream.” I took a step toward him and he jumped, his hands going up in a defensive stance. “Whoa. Take it easy.”
“Sorry.” He turned his back on me, his hands curling to fists, like he was trying to force them to stop trembling. “Look, you don’t have to worry about me flipping out or being dangerous just because I kicked a tree. I’m just blowing off some steam.”
“I wasn’t thinking that. I came to ask if you need a ride home.”
“Oh.” Still with his back to me, he shook his head. “No. Kelsey is coming to get me. He should be here soon. Sorry. I should have told you already.”
“Don’t worry about it. You okay?”
“Yeah. Just give me a minute, Jude.” He rested his arm, then his forehead against the tree. “I just need a minute.”
I went cold inside, recalling my father’s last words. “Just give me a minute, Jude.” Before I knew it, I was stepping closer to Walt. “The forest has a calming energy, you know. You can draw on it, if you need to.”
A huff, then a snort. “And how do I draw on it, Jude?”
I smiled, because I didn’t expect him to play along. Maybe he wanted the distraction too. “I like to picture it as blue light. Like sparks of energy. Little lightning bolts, coming out of the trees. If you inhale that good, soothing energy, it will push out the bad emotions when you exhale. That includes your anger.”
He chuckled. “You’re saying if I suck off this tree right here, I’ll feel better.”
“Yeah. Pretty much.”
“You’re insane.” He turned and faced me. I was pleased his face wasn’t quite as flushed. “I’ve had a lot of thoughts about you since you picked me up earlier, but this one’s new. You’re completely fucking insane.”
“Maybe. But what could it hurt? Your hands are still shaking.”
“My hands aren’t shaking.”
“Yeah they are.”
He balled them into fists, then sighed and relaxed his fingers again. “Fine. How do I do it?”
“Okay, raise your arms.”
He held his hands up like I was pointing a gun at him.
I laughed. “No, not like that.”
“Then how?” He dropped his arms, scowling.
“You’re really willing to try this?”
I was waiting for verbal abuse, but his expression was sincere, even a bit sheepish as he said, “Just show me.”
“Okay. Um...turn and face the tree.”
He did as I asked, arms at his sides. I realized too late that touching him was probably a bad idea, because when I stepped in close to his back, he inhaled sharply. His entire body went rigid, but he didn’t move, or protest. “Can I touch your hands?” I asked carefully. “Just your hands, don’t worry.”
“Sure.”
“Okay.” I slid my fingers through his. He flinched, but didn’t resist. “Close your eyes.”
“Uh huh.”
“Are they closed?”
“Yeah.”
“Now picture that blue energy I described, coming out of the tree in front of you. It’s pure, calming light. It’s soft and harmless, but stronger than any anger. Stronger than any fear. Do you see it?”
“My fucking eyes are closed. I don’t see anything.”
“In your mind, Walt!”
“Oh. Right. Okay.”
I sighed in frustration, my breath accidentally rippling the hair on the back of his neck. A shiver ran through his body, and I was so surprised I almost let go of his hands.
Was he into this?
I reminded myself that he’d already been trembling before I held his hands. That shiver wasn’t about me. “Can you see the blue light now? In your mind?”
“I see it.”
“I’m gonna raise your arms up. As I do, take a big deep breath. When you do, imagine you’re inhaling all that blue light into your lungs. All that calming energy. Then I’ll lower your arms, and when I do, imagine you’re blowing all the bad emotions out with it. Ready?”
“Yeah.”
“Here we go. Inhale.” I gripped his hands and slowly raised his arms over his head. His inhale was audible. His back pressed into my chest as his lungs expanded, and I could feel his body heat through the tank top. “Now exhale.”
As I lowered our joined arms, he blew a long breath out.
“One more time. In with the good energy.” I raised his arms up a second time. “Then out with the bad.”
He complied, exhaling loudly as I slowly lowered our arms.
“Good job. How you feeling now?”
“Whoa,” he said. “That was...weird.”
“You all right?”
“Yeah.”
“What was weird?”
“The first time, I saw my breath come out as dark. Like...oily black stuff. But the second time, it came out gold.”
I realized I was still holding his hands, and quickly released them before stepping back. “That’s great.”
“Is it?” He turned around, sleepy brown eyes regarding me. “Did I do it right?”
“I would say so, yeah. The fact that it was gold the second time probably means you purged your negative emotions.”
“If you say so.”
“It’s not about me. How do you feel?”
He rolled his shoulders, took a deep breath, and nodded. “You know what? I actually feel better.” He chuckled. “I still think you’re insane, but I do feel better. That was um...that was something.”
“You stopped trembling.”
“Yeah.” He looked at his hands, then shoved them in his pockets. “Don’t tell anyone about this, okay?”
My shoulders stiffened. “Don’t tell anyone I touched you, you mean. Me. The flamer.”
His brow lowered. “No, you idiot. Don’t tell anyone I was shaking and shit. It’s embarrassing. But my father...” He shook his head. “He just gets me so fucking angry. You wouldn’t understand. Your dad’s probably a great guy.”
“My father is dead.”
His eyes widened. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. I won’t say anything about this, don’t worry. I’m just glad you feel better.”
His phone buzzed, and he took it out of his pocket. “Kelsey’s here. I have to go.” He didn’t leave though, just slipped his phone back in his pocket and stared at me.
“Okay.”
He lifted his tank top and wiped sweat off his face, giving me a glimpse of his tanned stomach. I’d always loved his stomach. He had more hair there now, a thin dark trail below his navel. I forced my eyes to the ground until he dropped the shirt and was covered again. “It’s so hot here,” he said. “Weird, I can work outside on my house for hours and not get this hot.”
“It’s cooler out on the cliffside,” I said. “You’ll get used to the heat here. Just make sure you drink lots of water.”
He nodded, but still didn’t make a move to leave. Our gazes locked as we stood there in the silence of the forest. Though Walt appeared calmer, the intensity in his eyes trapped me, some fiery emotion I couldn’t decipher. He wet his lips like he was about to speak, then tightened them, exhaling through his nose. His eyes stayed locked on mine until I grew awkward and cleared my throat. “So, we’ll see you again when?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Oh. Okay. My mom said you were going to be coming a few days a week so...I wasn’t sure if it was gonna be a Monday, Wednesday thing or...whatever.” I was babbling. Something deep inside me stirred. We were still too close, I could smell him, and imagined I could still feel his body heat.
“Yeah, there will be days I have deliveries or shit to do at home, working on the house. Your mother said I can set my own schedule, though. I told her I want to get my hours in as soon as possible. She said it’s no problem, I can come as often as I want.”
“Oh, good.”
“She’s a nice lady.”
“She is that. She’s great.”
He gave me a smile that made my breath catch, because it was so familiar. The secret smile I remembered from childhood. He used to smile at me like that sometimes in school when he caught me staring, and it felt like our own personal secret, which is why I’d dubbed it ‘the secret smile’ in my mind. But I hadn’t seen it in fifteen years, and suddenly my heart sped. And I was at a loss for words, so now we were back to staring at each other.
“Don’t you have a date to get to?” He chuckled. “With my brother?”
“Yeah. I do.” I turned away, walking back toward the trail. A moment later I heard his footfalls, and he caught up to me. The two of us headed back toward the motel grounds.
Walt was quiet as we walked. But eventually, he muttered, “I’m sorry, Jude.”
My heart leapt to my throat. “Sorry for what?”
“That you have to put up with me here. I promise to stay out of your way and try to be invisible as much as possible. My personality obviously grates on you.”
“Don’t worry about it. You’re doing fine. Everyone seems to like you.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Even my sister likes you. Not that it pleases me any to say so.”
He frowned at me, then smiled when I chuckled. “Well, that’s something I guess. I liked everyone I’ve met here too.”
“Good. It should be fine then. We’ll get through it.”
Eventually stepping out of the woods and into the clearing, I could see his roommate Kelsey in the red truck parked over by the rec center. Walt stopped walking, but didn’t look at me, staring straight ahead as he asked, “What about you?”
I looked at his profile. “What about me?”
“Do you like me?”
I laughed. “Does it matter?”
“I guess not.”
“Okay. See you tomorrow.”
Walt started to walk away, then turned back. “Hey, Jude?”
“Yeah.”
“Watch yourself with Shea tonight.” He winked. “He had some choice dirty things to say about you on the phone. Better guard your virtue.”
My lips parted to speak, to tell him to shut his mouth, something. But he was already jogging away, slipping into the truck alongside Kelsey. I watched them drive off.
Choice dirty things. I wondered what they were. That same rush of pleasure and flattery I’d felt when Shea asked me out earlier shivered through me. But it was tinged with weirdness now, since the words had come from Walt. And that wink. Holy shit. At least, it seemed, he wasn’t trying to talk me out of dating his brother anymore. Maybe he’d decided I was worthy.
I was somewhat shaken when I arrived at my cabin, and got in the shower. It had been an emotional day. Hate, rage, frustration, I’d felt it all. But this confusion in me now was more powerful than all of it. Wally Cook, of all people, asking if I liked him. That would have been my chance, had I wanted to confess. To tell him no, I don’t like you. In fact, I hate you, you bastard. You ruined my life, and haven’t even got the decency to acknowledge doing it. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.
But something had changed today. Holding his hands in the forest, his trembling. His vulnerability. Something that had lived inside me for so long, hard and coiled and burning, had loosened a little. An exhale of the breath I’d been holding for fifteen years. But now it seemed to have been replaced with something else. That confusion plagued me again as I washed and prepared myself for a date. Confusion and...something else.
I’d been feeling a low-grade arousal ever since Walt winked and said what he did about Shea before leaving. What he said…and the way he said it. Choice dirty things. It turned me on. Better guard your virtue. I was still turned on. And it was definitely the words of a Cook boy that got me that way. I just wasn’t sure which Cook boy. And that was a problem. Potentially a big fucking problem.