Chapter 13

Chapter

Thirteen

Marci chatted with Walker and his family through dinner. There was something different in the way he'd looked at her since he and Clint had come back from doing chores. Was it a good different like he was done resisting the magnetic pull between them, or was he going to be more withdrawn because of whatever had transpired with his brother?

Lily had quietly teased her about Walker earlier. She'd been more than happy to tell the angelic beauty she was gone over her vaquero guapo .

Dinner finished and they all pitched in to clean up. She and Walker went outside with Clint and Lily and played corn hole in the back yard. Everything seemed positive and happy, but there was an underlying tension that worried her.

She and Lily helped the men do the nightly feeding. She felt comfortable with this family and wanted to be part of them in the worst way. His family added to Walker's appeal but was only one of the reasons she was so drawn to him.

When Clint and Lily waved goodbye and loaded in their truck, Marci stood next to Walker on the front walk and felt her stomach twist with nerves. She'd heard Easton would be back late tonight, and she was praying hard for Abuelita to be rescued and still felt at peace. She could feel her time with Walker slipping away, and she wanted to grasp it and hold on.

"Are you ready to head to bed?" Walker asked in a gravelly voice. It was dark out, probably eight or eight-thirty.

She darted a glance at him. It was a beautiful fall evening, crisp and refreshing in the mountain air. She had her plan tonight and it wouldn't work very well to kiss out here in front of the house. Who knew where Mama and Papa were? Anyone could walk by. She did not want any interruptions. This was going to be awkward enough without the worry of someone walking up while she enacted her ploy.

"I actually … need some help from you." Her voice pitched up with nerves and she twisted her hands together.

"Anything," he said in a deep voice that curled tendrils of heat through her.

" Chacho !" She grinned at him, forgetting to play coy. She almost forgot her apprehension that he might say no and reject her. "That was enticing."

His slow grin spread across his face, and he studied her with those incredible blue eyes as if she were the most important person on earth.

She grabbed his hand and tugged. "Well, come on then. I think my idea will work best in my room."

"Okay." He let her pull him up the porch steps.

They walked hand in hand into the house. He set his cowboy hat on the entry table and followed her up the stairs, ruffling his hair as they walked.

Neither of them said anything. The closer they got to her room, the more her stomach contorted with anxiety. Would this work? What if he denied her request? Walker had been her hero in many ways, but he hadn't made a move to kiss her yet. What if he saw himself as her protector but didn't feel the deep draw between them and had no desire to love and kiss her? With her lack of relationship experience, she could be projecting her own feelings and making them radiate in his face, but they might have no depth or real roots.

He held the door for her room, and they walked in. He didn't close the door. She released his hand and shoved the door closed. The thump sounded very loud in her ears. Pivoting to face him, she saw he looked as uncertain as she felt.

She almost wimped out at that uncertainty, wondering if she could claim she had a burned-out light bulb, but then he flashed her that irresistible smile. "What can I help with?"

"Well, um … I told you I started a story about a handsome cowboy roper, mi vaquero guapo cordelero ."

"Yeah." His gaze intensified. He ran a hand through his hair. She bit her lip. The silence grew. How did she ask a man to kiss her? Especially this most ideal and appealing of men. Walker Coleville.

Maybe she could start slow and pray he got the hint?

Please let him get the hint .

It might be wrong to pray for a kiss, but the good Lord wanted happily married people, so maybe it was okay.

"I would like some help with a scene I'm writing."

He nodded.

"I think that I should have my back against the wall." She backed up and planted her back against the wall next to the door. "You need to walk toward me, nice and slow, staring at me as if I'm your entire world."

His brows lifted, but he didn't say anything. He simply complied.

He slowly eased toward her, his blue gaze trained on her and his gaze heated, as if she were his mundo entero . He stopped half a foot away.

"That was nice, bien caliente. Gracias."

"De nada, " he said softly. "I just read a scene in your book where Sean approached the heroine just like that."

"Ah. Thank you for reading my book." And reenacting it with her. He was perfect. This moment could be perfect.

She pulled in a ragged breath, overwhelmed by his nearness, his musk and leather scent, his thoughtfulness, the depth of yearning in his blue eyes. He had to feel the same. He just had to.

"Now just a little closer. I need that large, macho frame to overshadow me."

He smiled slightly and edged in until he overshadowed her. She loved how big and tough he was.

"Yes, perfecto . Um, now can you plant one hand next to my head and cup my jaw and cheek with your other hand?"

"Sure." His voice was gravelly, and she wanted to remember that exact husky timbre. She was tempted to take a break and go write down the details, but nothing could pull her away from this moment. Not even her work, which usually overruled everything else in her life.

He held eye contact and placed one hand against the wall, cupping her jaw and cheek with the other hand. She found herself leaning into it, loving the calloused and smooth edges, loving how big it was and how perfectly it framed her face. He gently traced his thumb across her cheek and over her lower lip.

She sucked in a breath as warmth and tingles raced from her lips throughout her body. She was faint and swept away and so in love. Could a person fall in love in three days? It happened for her characters, but she'd always believed it was more likely the stuff of fairy tales.

"Sorry, that wasn't in my instructions." His voice was flirtatious and husky.

"Don't apologize. That was perfect. Chacho . Okay. Let me calm down and try to think straight."

His slow cowboy grin came at that. Devastating, inspiring, enticing. She loved his grin and everything about him.

"Now…" She swallowed. What now? He was touching her and leaning in close. She needed to reciprocate. "I should cling to your beautiful bicep muscle and slide my other hand around to your back."

She followed her own instructions and was temporarily distracted by how ideal his well-built arm was as she cupped her palm and fingers around it. She made the mistake of placing her hand on the side of his abdomen first. He sucked in a breath, and she was lightheaded. She slowly ran her hand from his taut waistline and around his back.

"Ooh, si ." She clung to him and leaned into the wall, her legs barely supporting her. "I saw all of that beautiful muscle when we jumped in the freezing lake, but it's another story to touch it when I'm hot all over and all alone in my bedroom with you."

He grinned at her, a touch of chagrin in his eyes. This cowboy hero of hers was devastatingly beautiful. Walker was no 2D protagonist or cookie cutter male lead. He was real, thoughtful, and he made her feel things she'd never felt—importance, joy, and hope for a future with an incredible man.

They studied each other for a few beats then he cleared his throat and asked, "More instructions?"

She swallowed and managed to squeak from her very dry throat, "I was hoping you wouldn't need any."

He quirked an eyebrow at her. There was a glint of teasing in his blue eyes, and he slowly traced his thumb across her lower lip again. She trembled under his tender touch.

He pulled his other hand from the wall and cupped her face completely with those large palms. Then he ran one hand around and into her hair, threading his fingertips through the strands and making her scalp tingle with delicious warmth.

She let out a telling moan that made his smile grow.

"You liked that?" he asked in a husky voice.

"Walker, I like everything you do."

He chuckled, but then his eyes grew serious. Several beats passed.

"What were you hoping I'd do next?" he asked.

"Lean in and kiss me," she managed to whisper.

Walker's gaze dipped to her lips and then met her eyes. "If it's research for a book, I don't know how to tell you no."

That line confused her, as did the conflicted look in his blue eyes. Why would he want to tell her no?

Oh, goodness. Was she throwing herself at him and he wasn't interested? He'd given her a lot of cues that said he was into her, but what did she know? She wrote perfect heroes, but real life wasn't like a book. At least hers had never been. She only lived vicariously through her stories. What if she was doing it all wrong?

Walker studied her when she didn't reply. Was he waiting for instructions? Did she need to force him into this kiss? That wasn't how her hero would claim her lips and her heart.

He drew in a breath and that conflicted look in his gaze changed to resolution.

"Marci," he whispered in a growl that shot desire through her.

"Yes?" she whispered back.

"I could never say no to you. Anything you ask, anything you need, no matter what it costs me. I am your vaquero guapo ."

Her heart missed a beat and her stomach hopped.

With those beautiful words and that tender promise, he leaned down and captured her mouth with his.

Marci clung to him. She leaned against the wall for support but then she was soaring, lifted off the ground in a swirl of emotion and sparks. Walker's lips were persuasive, warm, the ideal match for hers. His strong body and capable hands surrounded her. He took command of her lips, her heart, and her life as he coaxed her mouth with his own in a tender exchange of passion and delight. He kissed her so thoroughly she forgot to catalog anything. She was gone, in another stratosphere, swept away in this delicious and intoxicating kiss.

When they pulled back to catch their breath, she realized Walker's hands had slid down around her waist and lifted her off the ground. Her arms were wound tight around his neck. Her hair was mussed and so was his. Her lips continued to sing from the joy of kissing him.

" Chacho ," she murmured. " Que delicioso . I had no idea kissing could be like that. Special. Wonderful. Unique. Just for us alone. That was fuera de serie ."

"Off the charts?" he asked, grinning, all traces of conflict gone. He was her devoted vaquero guapo through and through.

"Yes, sir. Definitely, definitely off the charts."

He slowly lowered her to her feet, bending low with her and keeping their bodies in beautiful alignment. She shivered.

"Are you cold?" he asked, concern flickering in his mesmerizing blue orbs.

"Oh, no, so far from cold. Warm all over. Hot. Full of passion. Good shivers. I could be on Key Largo in the middle of a summer's day with no shade right now."

Walker chuckled at her exuberance.

"Your kiss is the most extraordinary experience on this planet," she reiterated. "The problem is …"

"Problem?" His brow furrowed.

"Yes, problem, mi vaquero guapo ."

"I am your handsome cowboy." He looked smug and as smitten with her as she was with him.

"Yes, you are." She moistened her lips. "The problem is, I lost my mind completely when you kissed me. I wasn't even coherent enough to realize you'd lifted me off the ground and our hands had moved positions. How did our hair get all mussed up? When did you pluck me off the floor? I was soaring into heaven and not even aware of anything but pure bliss at the blessing of your perfect lips."

Walker chuckled. He trailed his fingertips down her cheek. "I can relate to the mind-blowing effects of that kiss. Let me help you out with what I remember about how great it felt when you ran your hands through my hair and the silky feeling of your hair on my fingertips."

As if to demonstrate, he trailed his fingers slowly up her back, along her neck, and into her hair. She closed her eyes and savored the feel of his fingers making her scalp tingle.

Opening her eyes, she found him studying her. "That kiss was off the charts," he reiterated in a deep rumble.

"I agree."

"Did I give you enough inspiration for your book?" he asked.

"More than enough."

He started to release her and step back.

"Please." She clung to him. "If you have the time and it's not too much of a bother, can we please kiss like that over and over again? I'm inspired, but I need to get all the details perfect for my book." She couldn't care less about her book at the moment. "I can't seem to think straight when you kiss me. All I can remember at the moment was it felt like heaven and I want to do it over and over again."

He gave her his slow grin, and then he complied. He swept her off the ground and against his strong chest, then pinned her against the door and kissed her again.

Heaven, definitely. Soaring. Filled with joy. These moments would never be equaled.

Pulling back slightly, he stared down at her, his blue eyes shining with an awe that made her pulse race. He was as affected by her as she was by him.

"Do you have the details down?" he asked.

"Not one bit. It was too amazing." She sighed. "I'll just have my heroine lose her mind completely when the hero kisses her."

Walker's phone buzzed against her hip. He startled and looked down at his phone, his burrow furrowing.

"You can get that. I can hurry and type some things down and then we can …" She bit her lip. "Do some more research?"

"Sounds good." He released her.

"Yes!" She darted toward her laptop and sat down at the little desk, flipping the computer open. Glancing over at Walker, she saw him studying his phone. His forehead was creased, his lips clamped tight.

She typed as fast as she could, every detail of how he came in close, the look in his eyes, the kisses, the emotions and touches that she could remember, but it was all a fog. Too blissful. She was a wordsmith, but even she couldn't find the words to do those kisses and their connection justice.

Glancing up at him, she realized how silly it was to waste Walker time by typing. She could write anytime; she couldn't kiss Walker anytime. What if this was a one and done? Her heart wrenched at the thought.

Jumping up, she darted across the room. Walker looked up from his phone. His blue eyes were … conflicted.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I can type anytime. I think we should practice me losing my mind again." She attempted her most alluring smile.

Walker blinked at her. He looked upset. He backed away instead of pulling her tight and kissing her again.

"Marci …" He swallowed and backed up another step. "I'm the one losing my mind tonight. I'm sorry. I can't." He brushed his hand through his hair, pivoted, and strode to the door, flinging it open.

He glanced back at her. His eyes were shadowed with regret and yearning. What was happening? Who had texted him and pulled him away from her? Things had been going so perfectly.

She reached out a hand to him, praying he'd come back and talk to her about whatever was bothering him. Then they could kiss the night away.

His jaw slackened. He rubbed at it. "I need to …" He shook his head, his blue eyes solemn. "Families are rough. Let's … talk in the morning."

He turned and walked through the door, pulling it closed behind him.

Marci stood there, frozen. She'd gone from heat and light to cold and darkness.

She had no idea what had gone wrong. She'd connected with Walker like a vision from heaven. And he'd chosen to walk away.