Walker Read online

  The thought should scare me, but instead it only reaffirms what I’ve suspected this whole time. Erin is my future.

  I hold her against me as her body writhes and her moans fill the air. I don’t let go until her body stills.

  “Now, take that dress off, baby. I want to see all of you.”

  She’s panting heavily, but manages to slide it over her head. I feast my eyes on her bountiful tits that bounce free once her dress is gone. I want to knead them in my hands as she rides me, and I will.

  “Do you want me to use a condom?” I hate asking, mostly because it reminds me of the box in the bathroom. It makes me crazy with jealously to think of another man in her bed. “I saw some in the bathroom earlier.”

  “They’re expired.” The moonlight displays the adorable blush on her face. “Walker, I’m clean.”

  “Me too, baby.” I move her by her hips until she’s seated on top of me, her hot center hovering over my hard dick. “I want to feel your pussy squeeze my cock when you come this time.”

  She lowers herself onto me slowly, and I let her lead the pace.

  That gasp she makes when my tip slips inside is so sexy it makes it hard to control my urges, but I do. “It’ll fit, baby. I promise.”

  Any trace of doubt leaves her eyes when she’s fully seated on my cock. It takes her only a moment to rock her hips against me. My hands reach for her tits, and I squeeze them and pinch her nipples as she rides my dick. Together, our worlds rumble their way to a forthcoming explosion. “Come for my, baby.”

  Seconds later, Erin’s pussy convulses around me as she makes enough noise to piss off the neighbors. If they weren’t banging on the walls before, they will be soon. I love it. “I’m coming,” I tell her right before I pump my seed inside her tight walls.

  Erin collapses at my side and curls into my arms. She fits perfectly in the crook of my arm, her head on my chest. I kiss her forehead. “Rest up, baby. We’re going again soon.”

  6

  ERIN

  The next morning, I wake to an empty bed. I pat the sheets beside me like it’ll somehow prove me wrong. His scent lingers on my pillow, but Walker isn’t there. Disappointment soars through me. I should’ve known better than to expect him to stay. He got what he wanted, now he’s gone.

  Rosco pounces on the bed, pawing playfully at my nose. The scent of bacon hits my senses, and I fear I’ve left the window open. I shoot up in a panic, not eager to have my cat try to be a stuntman today. Especially if that aroma is as alluring to him as it is to me.

  That’s odd. The window is closed tight. Locked, even.

  It’s then that I notice the cracked bedroom door.

  As much as I hope to find Walker in my kitchen wearing nothing but an apron—or just nothing period—he’s not there either. But there is a breakfast spread on my kitchen counter, and a note.

  Erin, I’m sorry I had to leave you. I have a twenty-four hour shift at the station. You looked so peaceful sleeping. Just like an angel. My angel. I didn’t want to wake you. Enjoy your breakfast. Next time we’ll have it bed. Naked.

  I clench the note against my chest and squeal with delight. Rosco stares at me curiously from the doorway. “Maybe, Rosco. Just maybe.”

  After I finish the breakfast Walker made for me, I’m restless. With a clear class schedule today and no test or papers to worry about this week, last night plays over in my mind guilt-free. We went at it so many times it’s amazing I had a chance to fall asleep at all. I’m sore in all the best ways.

  Unable to sit still any longer, I start baking a batch of butterscotch chip cookies. If Walker really is genuine about us, he won’t mind a special delivery to the station.

  A block from the station, I feel nervous butterflies in my stomach. I don’t know what they’re doing in there—having a circus or throwing a keggar—but they’re out of control. I’m a mixture of excited to see Walker and terrified he’ll be upset with me for showing up unannounced. Maybe I’ll embarrass him.

  A car honks at me to cross the street, forcing me to make a decision. Remembering the sweet note he left me, I hurry across it before I can change my mind.

  One of three garage doors of the fire station is open. Voices echo from inside. I bravely take a step through the opening, and eyes instantly land on me. Two firemen are standing beside one of the fire engines, but they’ve stopped whatever inventory they were working on when they see me.

  “Can we help you, miss?”

  I lift the container of cookies up to show them, hoping it’ll buy me time to use my words. I shouldn’t have come here so spontaneously. Walker might be uncomfortable with me showing up like this in front of the firefighters he spends so much of his time with. We just met days ago. It’s too soon to be here. “I brought cookies.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say so?” The one with the darker hair says. “I’m Chase.” He nods to the blond beside him. “This is Dameon.”

  “Erin.”

  “Erin?” Chase repeats. “The Erin?”

  Heat rushes up my neck and through my cheeks. I feel more self-conscious right now than I’ve felt since the debacle in college. “I’m looking for Walker.”

  The two exchange a look I wish I could decipher. I’m desperate to know what silent communication I’m missing. The twisting feeling in my stomach warns me something is about to go very wrong.

  “He’s out back finishing up the lawn,” Chase says. “Do you want to come in and wait? He shouldn’t be long.”

  “I don’t want to bother anyone.” I turn to leave, but Chase has already stepped up to where I’m standing. His hand gently touches my elbow.

  “Wait.”

  “I really should go.” I shove the container of cookies at him until he grips it. I’m about to tell him to let Walker know I stopped by—or don’t—but Dameon is now at his side. His eyes are studying me much too closely, like he’s trying to place who I am. But I’ve never met either of them before.

  “She’s really the one?” Dameon says to Chase. Something about the way he’s looking at the other guy, like he’s trying to remind him of a conversation they had when I wasn’t around, makes me uneasy. “The short straw?”

  “Yeah, it’s her.”

  “The short straw?” I repeat.

  “It’s what we do when none of us wants to do something,” Dameon explains. “We draw straws. Walker got the short one the day you called. Sorry, no one really wanted to get a cat out of a tree.”

  Chase elbows him, but I hardly notice.

  I’m the short straw?

  “I have to go.” Before either one can stop me, I hurry out the door and rush across the street, narrowly missing a car. The driver lays down on his horn until I’m out of earshot, but I don’t care. I just need to get as far away as I can as quickly as possible.

  WALKER

  A container of cookies sits in the middle of the table, drawing my attention immediately. I’ve been mowing for an hour, and I’m starved. I only have to remove the lid to recognize their alluring aroma. Erin.

  I scarf one down, then two. Grabbing a third, I hurry out to the garage. Hopefully the guys are keeping her entertained. I should take a quick shower, but I can’t stand the thought of missing her. I’ve been thinking about her all day. Even thought about sneaking over to her apartment at lunch.

  “Erin?” I call out into the garage.

  Chase is finishing up an inventory check of one of the fire engines and turns toward me. “She left.”

  My heart drops suddenly. Something is wrong if the sympathetic look in his eyes is any indication. “What do you mean she left?”

  “She brought by cookies, but I think we scared her off.”

  “We?”

  “Dameon started talking about drawing straws, and she jetted out of here before either of us could stop her.”

  “Straws?” It hits me suddenly, the story she told me in the restaurant. How the news about drawing straws to rescue Rosco must’ve sounded to her. I grab the keys to the p
ickup off the hook on the wall. “Tell Dameon he’s scrubbing toilets tonight.”

  I’m at Erin’s apartment building in less than five minutes. I restrained myself from using lights and the siren on the drive over. But even in the heat of the moment, I know that’s for true emergencies. I’m not at life or death with Erin right now. At least I hope not.

  I buzz her apartment three times, but she doesn’t answer. I’m good friends with everyone at the station, but right now, I’d like to clock Dameon for running his mouth like that without any forethought. How could Erin not have taken that the wrong way?

  Calling her doesn’t do any good either. Her phone goes right to voicemail, and my texts don’t deliver.

  Back at the truck, I contemplate calling in a fire drill. At least it would get her out of the building. But I don’t want to be responsible for causing unnecessary panic. And if Rosco escapes in the middle of the chaos, I wouldn’t forgive myself.

  Then I see the tree, with its limp branch I broke with my heavy boot. My eyes follow the branches to the cracked window on the second story. It’s not a wide enough gap for the kitten to slip out of, but it might be enough for me to pry open with my fingers.

  One way or another, I’m talking to Erin. Every minute she thinks I was making some spectacle out of her is one minute too long. I’m nothing like those jerk kids she dealt with in college, and I’m going to make sure she knows that.

  I speed up the tree so I don’t have time to focus on how flimsy it is. How much weaker the branches are from my last ascent. I’m too heavy to be up here at all, but that isn’t going to stop me from making this right. Hugging the narrow trunk with one arm, I reach toward the inch crack beneath the window. “Erin!” I call out.

  The sun reflects so strongly that I don’t see her through the glass. I can barely make out that the bedroom door is open, but she might be sitting on her bed and I wouldn’t be able to tell at this angle. Rosco hops to the window sill and tilts his head at me. He begins to meow.

  “Rosco, get Erin.” My fingers are so close to the opening, but now I’m hesitant to open it any further. I can’t let him escape.

  In the middle of my debate, I hear a branch snap. I lose my footing. My arm slips from around the trunk. I drop straight to the ground.

  7

  ERIN

  I can’t believe I was such an idiot. I’m the butt of another joke. The short straw. “Ugh!” I yank the covers over my head, determined to stay in bed for the rest of the day. Maybe even the rest of the week. This is why I don’t let people in. I wish I had remembered that before.

  Rosco lets out a mew from the window. He’s been pawing at the crack I left open nonstop, but it’s not enough for him to slip through or get it to budge. He meows again.

  “Do you see a bird?” I try to give him the attention he deserves. It’s not his fault I was ridiculous enough to believe a hot firefighter wanted to date me. When Rosco won’t stop, I toss the covers aside to rescue him from whatever is torturing him through the glass.

  That’s when I see Walker.

  The snap of the branch echoes, and a second later he’s on the ground. I scream his name, forehead glued to the window to see if he’s okay. I watch him move his limbs and lift his head. “I’m coming down!” I call out to him through the crack in the window.

  I hurry outside and kneel beside Walker who’s laid out flat on the ground. “Are you hurt?” I want to cradle his head in my lap, but I know enough not to move someone who might have a serious injury like this. “Should I call 911?”

  “No,” he says through gritted teeth. “Don’t do that.”

  “Do you want me to call someone at the station?”

  “Definitely not.”

  “But you might be hurt—”

  Walker pushes himself up to a sitting position with a few grunts, locking gazes. “The only thing hurt is my pride, baby.”

  Now that I know he’s okay, I can breathe. I can continue to be mad at him. “What are you doing here, Walker? Why were you climbing that tree again?”

  “I came to see you.”

  “Why?”

  He reaches for my hands, holding them tightly in his own. Like he won’t ever let them go. The heat of his touch reminds me of everything we did last night. My heartbeat quickens in my chest. Despite being upset with him, I want him back in my bed.

  “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “No, not really.”

  “I love you, Erin.”

  I’m at a loss for words, because it’s the last thing I expected him to say. “You do?”

  “Very much.” I’m gathered into his arms before I know what happens. It feels right. Safe. But I’m still cautious.

  “Then why didn’t you tell me I was a short straw?”

  “You’re not a short straw. You’ve never been a short straw. It’s just a stupid thing we do at the station.” His hand cups my cheek, forcing me to look him in the eyes. This up close, I can see the gold flecks in those dark brown eyes. “I promise, you’re not the center of some joke. I’m sorry Dameon is an idiot. He’s a good guy, just doesn’t always choose his words wisely.”

  “Then why—”

  “I’ve talked about you nonstop since I met you. I can’t help it. You’re all I think about. If I hadn’t drawn the short straw that day, I never would’ve met you. It was the luckiest unlucky thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  “You mean that?”

  Walker kisses me with hunger that leaves me without a seed of doubt, and without any breath. “You’re my whole world, Erin.”

  In between kisses, I manage to say, “I love you, too. So much.” His lips greedily trail kisses down my neck, worshipping that sensitive spot on my collar bone. “Walker,” I say, trying to remind him we’re in public and people are watching.

  “I think I need some first aid.”

  I wink at him. “Guess I better get you upstairs so I can clean you up.”

  Epilogue

  WALKER

  It’s been four wonderful years, and it still never gets old when Erin shows up to the station during one of my shifts. In fact, now it’s even better because she brings our son, too. Jace is only three, but he already talks about being a firefighter when he grows up. I love the way his eyes illuminate at the sight of a fire engine.

  “I brought you some cookies.” Erin winks at me from across the table as she sets the container down for everyone to share. The guys are crazy about her cookies. They won’t last an hour. “They’re your favorite.”

  “Butterscotch chip?”

  “Of course.”

  I move around the table and carefully pull her into my arms. Her belly is growing more swollen by the day. In less than three months, Jace will have a new little brother or sister. “How’s my family today?” I ask my wife as I kiss her neck, teasing her with my breath against her ear.

  “We’re great. All four of us.” Her hands rubs her belly, and the glow that spreads across her face is breathtaking. “Rosco is at home in a milk coma.”

  I kiss her on the lips, unable to help myself once the contact is made. I want to sneak her off into another room so I can remind just how much I love her. We’re practically making out like teenagers when one of the guys whistles at us. One lifetime will never be enough with Erin

  “Daddy, firetruck!” Jace points through the open doorway into the garage.

  “You better take him,” Erin says after I steal another kiss. She’s right. Jace will just keep asking if I don’t start the tour now.

  “C’mon, buddy.” I pick my son up and situate him on my shoulders, which earns me a fit of giggles that warms my heart. Holding my wife’s hand, I lead us into the garage for a family tour of the fire engine that has so captivated my son.

  Life is perfect.

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