Chapter 7

Chapter

Seven

Marci ate the delicious soup and bread and chatted with Walker and Millie. Walker was considerate, interesting to talk to, and incredible to look at. He had a way of looking into her eyes as if what she said was the most important thing in the world. Her vaquero guapo was all around incredible, truly.

Millie was a nurturing angel and made her miss Abuelita. The women were very different. Abuelita hadn't made a loaf of bread in her life, busy with her charities and trying to spend all the money Papa left her. She was rarely at home, off traveling the world, while Millie thrived on hearth and home. But both women made Marci feel special and loved.

Sadly, Walker had put up a wall as soon as Mama walked in. Did he not want to flirt with his mother looking on? That would make sense. Maybe he couldn't like a girl he was protecting. The real question: was he interested in Marci or not? He seemed interested, but what did she know? She might write romance into most of her books but she certainly didn't live it. She could count on one hand the number of official dates she'd been on since graduating from the university and moving back to Key Largo, building her cottage to be near Abuelita and soak up the inspiration of the beautiful island and the sunshine.

Right now, she was leaning towards Walker thinking she was a nice and interesting person but not someone he wanted to date. Then he focused on her with those blue eyes and his lips curved in a slow, lingering smile and she was soaring.

She was always the first to look away. It was easy to write about characters staring into each other's eyes endlessly, but actually taking part in that staring contest was both thrilling and unnerving. She didn't quite know where to look or how to act.

After she ate, she helped Walker clean up and then they started dinner preparations with Millie. It was only four in the afternoon and already Millie was focused on dinner. She'd never met a homemaker and nurturer like Mama Millie. Her own mother had been a loving mom but focused on her career. Abuelita was also loving but couldn't be bothered with cooking or cleaning. She had a fabulous chef and a maid service. Marci liked to cook but didn't take the time away from her writing most days.

She didn't mind helping in the kitchen and was impressed that Walker was helpful and knew his way around a spatula. She would've loved to get outside with Walker, go on a walk or a horseback ride, anything to be alone with him, but the warm, happy kitchen with its delightful smells and people was a great way to spend the afternoon.

They assembled chicken enchiladas and got them in the oven and then Mama shooed them out of the kitchen with a glint in her eyes. "You two go on a walk or a horseback ride. Enjoy this beautiful fall day. We won't eat for another hour."

Mama had read her mind. Bless this instinctive woman.

Walker turned to her. "Would you like to go on a walk or a ride?"

"I want to ride on a horse!" She clapped her hands together, ecstatic. " Por favor ," she added.

Walker's slow grin lit up his face. She fanned her face and caught Mama giving her a very interested look.

"All right," Walker said.

" Gracias , Mama," Marci said. "The soup and bread were deliciosa ."

"Of course, love. Thanks for helping me prep dinner. I'll see you both in an hour."

"Yes, ma'am," Walker said. He bent down to kiss Mama's cheek as Mama hugged him.

Marci was certain she would melt in a puddle on the hardwood floor. This strong cowboy helped in the kitchen and kissed his mama? Had there ever been a hero to equal Walker Coleville? She created the best heroes in the industry, in her humble opinion, but her books were high-level suspense. She'd never thought of having one of her men interact tenderly with his mama. She was writing that scene into her new book for certain. Ah. No woman could resist Walker.

Wait a minute. Did any woman resist him? Was he a player? Though he didn't flirt like Easton, he could be enjoying beautiful cowgirls' company as the star of the rodeo and then casting them away every other weekend. She frowned. She'd seen some cowgirls cozying up to him in the videos she'd watched. What if he was the type who kept a girlfriend in every city?

"You all right?" Walker asked softly as he released his mom and approached her.

"Oh yes, thank you." She could add observant and thoughtful to his list of fabulous characteristics. What couldn't this man do?

Walker nodded to her and gestured to the laundry room. She walked in front of him. He put his cowboy hat on and slid into his boots. He glanced down at her running shoes. "We need to find some boots and a hat for you."

She smiled. "Can I not ride without them?"

"You can, but …" His cheek crinkled with that irresistible grin of his. "I want you to have the full experience."

She sighed with delight at that smile and his words. He did mean … kissing the cowboy type of experience, right? She certainly hoped so.

"Since we don't have much time tonight, we'll forego the boots and hat, but I'll find you some for next time."

"Thank you, Walker." Her voice was so breathy it probably sounded like she was thanking him for a kiss.

"Sure thing." He held the door for her. They walked through the garage, out the small side door, and through the backyard, the crisp air invigorating and fresh. He held the door as they stepped into the barn.

Her stomach pitched with excitement. She was going to ride a horse. With Walker. She'd be up high on a horse's back, riding through a meadow with her hair streaming behind her. She'd fall off and Walker would run to her and pick her up. He'd pluck some leaves out of her hair and they'd laugh. He'd brush the dirt away from her cheek but then his hand would settle, cup her jawline, and his blue eyes would regard her with all the love she'd been missing out on.

Her daydream was interrupted by the terrifying thought … She'd fall off her horse? Nerves assaulted her. What if horseback riding was scarier than her characters had ever admitted to her or Google had informed her through her research? What if she did fall off, was horrible at it, or the horse bit her?

Walker held the door for the barn, and they walked into the cool interior. A variety of windows and overhead lights kept it bright. The smell of hay and horse was noticeable but not unwelcome.

Walker directed her toward the horse stalls. Usually she'd be asking a million questions, trying to learn the ins and outs of horse life and bring authenticity to the book series she was already planning with this man as the hero.

She should be worrying about Abuelita being found unharmed. Instead, as they walked past a few beautiful horses and up to a stall, she could only focus on Walker. The fact that Abuelita would want her to focus on Walker pushed away the guilt.

"This is your horse," she said, pointing at the beautiful black steed.

"One of them."

"You have more than one?" she asked, incredulous.

"Sure thing. Tantrum is for racing, doing chores, and riding around the property. Miss Sue is my roping horse, and Cash is my roping horse in training."

Miss Sue. She'd been so stressed thinking Miss Sue was his girlfriend. She hoped someday to be comfortable enough to share that story with him.

"Wow. This is a lot to take in. More than one horse. That blows my mind. I had the image of you roping on this noble steed." Yet in the roping videos she'd watched, he'd been on a brown horse. She'd assumed he didn't bring his horse with him to far away rodeos, but Papa Jared had said Miss Sue was flying with him. She had so much to learn.

He smiled at her. "Miss Marci Richards, meet Tantrum, the meanest and fastest American Quarter Horse around."

"He is beautiful." She reached out to stroke the horse's black coat, but her hand stopped. "Mean?"

Walker chuckled. "He won't bite you or hurt you. We say he's mean because he won't let anyone but me ride him properly and he's competitive. This handsome boy has never lost a race with Easton, or anybody."

The obvious pride in his voice made her smile. She reached out and stroked her fingers through the horse's short hair. Tantrum nickered and then leaned into her hand.

"He likes you," Walker said, sounding surprised.

"Everybody likes me," she countered, proud that Tantrum liked her, though she'd done nothing to earn it besides petting him. Did one pet a horse? She needed to quiz Walker on all these details. Sometimes Google didn't explain as well as she'd like and watching endless YouTube videos on different subjects grew exhausting.

"I can see that. Especially the male variety."

She thought he was teasing. She laughed.

Walker looked … disconcerted suddenly. "Let's introduce you to the horse you'll ride. Sheila."

He turned to go.

"Walker," she said, stopping him and still rubbing Tantrum's coat.

"Yeah?" He turned back to her.

"Um …" She cleared her throat and looked at Tantrum. "I've never ridden a horse in my life."

"Pardon me?" His blue eyes said he either didn't believe her or thought she'd been raised by aliens. "Never?"

She shook her head.

"You've seemed very … at home here."

"Ah, thank you." She grinned. "Not like a fish out of water or Harry Potter just entering the wizarding world? That's how I've felt. The second one. Surrounded by the most majestic, impressive, and magical beauty and wonders." She meant him as much as his mountains, trees, and remote ranch and home.

He grinned.

"You'll teach me how to ride and not get bucked off?"

"Yes." He gave her a reassuring smile. "Sheila is real gentle, and we can start in the arena with me leading you before we take to exploring the ranch."

"I'd like to learn," she said, "But we don't have a lot of time tonight." She had an idea that would get them close. Something she'd used in a book before. Would he go for it? As heroic and masculine as he was, she thought the idea would appeal to him. If he wanted her close. "Can I ride with you until I get comfortable enough to go on my own?"

Walker's eyes widened slightly and his jaw went slack. "You want to ride … double with me?"

" Si, senor ," she said, fluttering her eyelashes and hoping it looked attractive and not annoying or put on.

Walker swallowed hard and looked her over, then focused on Tantrum. "The saddle isn't meant for two people, but we could make it work. We'll have to get … really close."

Perfect. She wanted to clap and shout, but she simply smiled. "I don't mind."

He moistened his lips, and her pulse took off at a gallop. "All right. Let me get Johnny Boy saddled. He's the strongest and calmest gelding in the barn."

"Not Tantrum?"

"He might spook, and I can't risk hurting you."

"Ah, you are the sweetest, you know that?"

"The sweetest?" he repeated. His brow furrowed and his jaw tightened. Maybe tough, enticing cowboys didn't want to be called sweet. "Give me just a moment."

Walker grabbed some long leather reins and a halter from a collection on the nearby wall. She was grateful she knew the terms and had retained them because of her copious time researching for western books. He went to a nearby stall and started getting the horse ready.

She moved in closer and asked questions and observed and learned. A few minutes later, Johnny Boy, a beautiful tan horse, was saddled. Marci walked next to Walker as he led the horse out of the barn.

Her stomach pitched with nerves, a little bit because this was her first horse ride, a lot because she was going to get to snuggle in close to Walker. Dále , she wanted to cheer.

"All right," Walker said. "Let's get you up on Johnny Boy."

"What do I need to do?" Her pulse took off at a gallop and she worried about something else. Would Walker race this horse like he had Tantrum when she initially saw him yesterday?

"I've got you," he said softly. He looped the reins around his forearm and then gently pivoted her to face away from him. A thrill went through her at his touch.

"Here we go." He wrapped his hands around her waist and plucked her up off the ground as if she weighed no more than a small child.

"Whoa," she cried out, and the horse shifted nervously.

"It's okay," Walker soothed, though she wasn't sure if he was reassuring her or the horse. "Grab onto the horn and swing your right leg over the horse's back."

"Okay." She followed his instructions, grabbing onto the smooth leather horn and lifting her leg over the saddle.

Walker easily settled her into the saddle and then released his grip on her. "You all right?"

"Whoa." She looked around. The view was magnificent. "This is incredible. I'm a giant up here. I didn't realize Johnny Boy would make me seven feet tall."

"King of the world for sure." He grinned at her.

"Queen," she corrected, grinning back at him.

"Yes, you are." Before she could savor that compliment, he went on. "I'm going to have to share that saddle with you."

"Oh … Oh, that's right. How do I … fit you with me?" She was a hot mess suddenly. They were going to be very close. She'd schemed this earlier and now she was getting the reward. Would it be too much? The shock of his body so close could send her into heart failure.

He lifted his left leg and placed his booted foot in the stirrup, holding the reins in his left hand and wrapping his hand underneath the horn she clung to. "Lift yourself up a bit."

Marci did as instructed. He smoothly swung into the air, his right leg coming up over the horse. He settled into the saddle behind her and then drew her back against him, his right arm and hand wrapping seamlessly around her waist.

"Oh. This is … we are … very close." She was gasping for air as her back pressed into his chest and his arm held her firmly against him. His hand splayed across her waist and the musk and leather scent of him surrounded her. She couldn't think straight, let alone speak coherently.

"Is it all right?" Walker asked, his voice even deeper than usual. "I can saddle another horse and teach you how to ride."

"No," she all but yelled. "No way. This is perfect."

"It is," he agreed softly. His warm breath tickled her ear.

Marci leaned back against him and completely relaxed. Relajada wasn't the correct term as her heart was racing and her skin prickling with a tingly warmth, but she let her body relax, molding itself to Walker's. She didn't think about how she'd write this scene, or let her mind race away with daydreams. She'd never been so firmly grounded in the moment.

He clucked softly to the horse, and they started forward. Walker held the reins with one hand and held her with the other. She rested her right hand over his hand on her waist and her left hand on his leg. He startled but settled.

"Is that all right?" she asked, repeating his question from earlier.

"Perfect," he said huskily against her ear.

Perfect. It was perfecto . She didn't know Walker as well as she'd like, but she thought everything about him was just about perfect.

They rode onto one of the trails through the trees and headed north. Neither of them said anything. She savored each sensation. She should be cataloguing the thick green forest, the steady, rolling cadence of the horse's canter, the autumn sun filtering through the trees, the mountains soaring above them to the east, painted pink by the sun's descent. All that mattered at the moment was the strong, incredible cowboy holding her close.

She leaned against him and enjoyed each touch and sensation. If Abuelita was safe, she'd never leave this spot.

The trail opened up to a clearing and she saw the sparkling lake and the river from their run earlier this morning.

"I love this spot," she said.

"Me too." He reined the horse in and they sat looking at the small, lovely lake. "You said you like to swim?"

"Oh yes. I swim in the ocean or the pool almost every day."

"The water's cold, but we could swim in the lake tomorrow if you'd like. We don't have enough time tonight."

"I would love that." She looked at him over her shoulder. His blue eyes reeled her in. "But I might be gone tomorrow. If they rescue Abuelita tonight and capture the men."

He nodded. She wished he'd tell her he didn't want her to leave.

He clucked to Johnny Boy, and they turned and headed back on the trail. He was still holding her close and their position was intimate and warm, but an emotional wall had slid between them. It was a glass wall. She could see him through it, but if she broke it, she might injure them both with glass shards.

Why had he closed off? Maybe he didn't want to get invested in a woman who was going to be gone soon, or maybe he simply wasn't interested in her.

At least she was reassured he wasn't a player. A player would take advantage of their time together, kiss her and not worry that she'd be gone tomorrow.

How would one of her heroines get this hero to make a move?

She couldn't think of anything right now. That in and of itself shocked her. She always had some idea, scene, or inspiration brewing in her mind.

Walker Coleville pushed out any thoughts except him.