Walker Bride (2 page)

“I was the last one, huh?”

“You were my hold out. I thought I was going
to have to come out to your house. This might be cause for some
celebration.”

Now he could feel the heat rise in his
cheeks. Having his body measured at her store was bad enough. Had
she done that in his house…well, it was better just to stop
thinking about it because now, looking at her in her perfect suit,
the image what they could have done was too vivid.

“Well, I guess we’re done. I should go,” he
said after he pulled on his boots.

She looked up at him, those blue eyes burning
right into him. The shimmering gloss on her lips only accentuated
the fullness of them.

God, what was he thinking?

“Are you still going for that drink?” she
asked, and he had to think about what he’d said to prompt that.

“Oh, right. The drink. I think I’d better.”
Her eyes were still locked on him. “Would you like to join me?”

He watched as she licked her lips, then bit
down on the bottom one with her perfectly white teeth. “I thought
you’d never ask. Let me get my things.”

His lungs began to burn, and he realized
again, he was holding his breath as he watched her walk away. What
was he doing? Pearl Walker had a certain reputation he remembered.
And he'd just been felt up by the prim and proper version.

This just might end up being the most
interesting night of his life.

It had been worth inviting herself to tag
along just to see Tyson’s expression, Pearl thought. Okay, she
might have made his experience getting fitted for a tux a little
too intimate. He didn’t know it wasn’t
the norm
and in no
way did she violate him at all. She was just having some fun.

Tyson Morgan had always been a mystery to
her. Of course, he was the older brother of her friend Lydia, and
he was off limits to any Walker to get to know for years. That feud
between her father, grandfather, and uncle with his grandfather had
simply been ego—or pride. Pearl couldn’t have been more surprised
when it came out that Tyson was actually her cousin Eric’s
half-brother. That only made him more intriguing. Mystery shrouded
him, and Pearl liked a mystery.

She also liked tall, muscular men who wore
boots and ball caps. It didn’t hurt anything that he was twelve
years older too. She liked them a little more seasoned than herself
though she was no prude.

Pearl gave herself one last look in the
mirror that hung over the sink in the back room. Fetching her
lipstick out of her purse, she slid it over her lips, then pressed
them together. She looked like a million bucks, she thought. Oh,
she’d come a long way from the heavy eyeliner, ear piercings, and
black hair. She had her mother’s blonde hair. Desecrating it with
jet black color made her skin look so pale, she nearly appeared
dead. That had pissed her parents off. Of course, that had been the
point.

Heavy metal had blared from her stereo, and
there was always a stash of stolen alcohol in the bottom of her
closet. Not to mention she’d spent all of her money on fancy clove
cigarettes.

That made her laugh. Now she drank champagne
and nibbled on chocolate-covered strawberries with clients. The
salon had a standing appointment for her hair and nails. Over the
years, she’d become a fashionable and significant member of
society.

Still, there was a little deviousness inside
of her, and it had come out when that sexy Tyson Morgan walked in
her door, and she’d draped the measuring tape across his broad
shoulders. Work had taken over her life, especially lately since so
many members of her family were getting married. It was time to let
her hair down and have some fun. And it seemed as though her body
was itching to have fun with Tyson. All she had to do was make her
move and make him hers.

Tyson juggled his keys between his palms as
he waited for Pearl to return from the back room. He needed to tell
her he had too much to do. This wasn’t going to happen—this drink
he’d mentioned.

When she walked back into the room, he found
that the man in him didn’t have the courage to tell her goodbye.
She was stunning. She didn’t look any different than she had ten
minutes earlier, except for fresh lipstick, but damn!

“Where should we go?” she asked, turning off
the lights in the room.

He looked around. Even though it was still
sunny outside, the room had nearly gone black.

“Um, I don’t know. I didn’t plan on this at
all.”

The smile that formed on her lips twisted his
insides. “There’s a little bar down the street. Local brewery.”

“Alright.”

“We can buy a sandwich from the deli next
door and take it in.”

“They let you do that?”

“That’s how it works. It’s a tap room, not a
restaurant. You order food from the nearby restaurants. Sometimes
they have a food truck.” She cocked her hip, with her hand on it,
and gave him a sultry gaze to go with the attitude. “You don’t come
to town too often do you?”

“Not if I can help it.”

She smiled, and the white from her teeth
nearly glowed in the dark room. Placing a manicured finger on his
chest she moved in close. “Drinks and a late, late lunch is on me
then. It’s a special occasion.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’re in town—finally getting fitted. It’s
Friday. And I don’t have any more appointments today. Let’s
celebrate.”

He let out a long steady breath as he
followed her to the front of the store.

As soon as they walked through the front
door, Pearl turned and locked the store up tight. He watched as she
looked up at the sign and smiled. There was a lot of pride in her
little store. He knew the look of pride.

“Ready?” She turned that smile toward him,
and he nodded. The deli was only a block away. She strolled right
in with a wave to the man behind the counter.

“Pearl!” he said as if they were dear
friends.

“How are you today, George?”

“It’s a fine day isn’t it?”

She gave him a glance over her shoulder and
turned back to the counter. “It sure is.”

Just with the look and the sultry sound of
her voice, Tyson felt the heat rise on the back of his neck. His
brother made him get fitted for a tux, and now he was on display?
This was crap, and he was going to let Eric know about it. He
didn’t need Eric’s cousin hitting on him. He didn’t need any woman
hitting on him. How the hell had he gotten himself into this
situation?

Pearl ordered one sandwich and asked them to
cut it in half. Obviously, they were sharing the club, which was
his favorite, but what if he’d wanted a whole sandwich?

She paid George, as she’d called him, and
lingered her hand on his as she took her change. “See ya next
week,” she said with a small wave.

He followed her out of the deli.

“Eat here a lot?”

She shrugged. “Maybe once a week. I try to
stop in for an iced tea every few days. It’s good to keep in the
good graces with the businesses around you. I even stop into the
barber shop across the street and catch a basketball game if I’m
hanging out at the shop on the weekend.”

“Why?”

“It’s neighborly,” she said with a laugh in
her voice. “Don’t you do that?”

“I manage the ranch. My neighbors are ten
miles away. And until this year, I’d never met them, let alone talk
to them.”

“I’ve always thought that was strange and
interesting,” she said as she walked into the brewery with a wave
to the woman behind the bar.

The woman in a tight black T-shirt with the
front cut to form a V in the crevice of her pushed up breasts
reached over the bar to hug Pearl.

“Didn’t expect you till later,” she said.

Pearl gave her an easy laugh. “I got an offer
to leave early. Elise, this is Tyson Morgan.”

The woman extended her hand to him, and he
took it only to find she had a serious grip.

“Morgan? The ranch about ten miles out of
town?”

“Yeah,” he said pulling his hand back and
tucking it into his pocket.

“You’re Lydia’s brother?”

“That’s me.”

She grinned. “Love her. Who couldn’t love a
spitfire like that?”

He shouldn’t be surprised that Lydia had made
friends around town. Unlike him, she was never out at the ranch. If
she could get away, she did.

Since the Morgans and the Walkers had
reconciled their family feud, or, at least, it was simmered down,
she spent a lot of her time at his brother Eric’s riding a horse
Tyson had bought her for her birthday, which she refused to keep on
their family property. She thought it was
neighborly.
Now
that he’d heard the word come from Pearl’s lips, he wondered where
Lydia might have gotten the idea.

He and Lydia were as different as they came.
Of course at forty-two years old, finding out he had different
parents than she did, that should explain it. Lydia was outgoing,
and as the woman with the perky chest in the tight T-shirt said,
she was a spitfire.

“What can I get you?” the woman asked.

“I’ll have my usual,” Pearl said, and the
woman nodded.

“I’m at a loss here. Craft beers?”

Pearl smiled. “From very mild to stout.”

“And you are?”

She licked her lips, and he clenched his
teeth to keep from letting the subtle motion trigger his
masculinity into a jolt.

“I’m mild.”

He looked at the woman behind the bar who was
waiting for an answer. “Give me what she’s having.”

The woman winked and turned to get their
beers.

“Mild? You? Not what I would have pegged,”
Pearl said as she pulled her wallet from her purse.

“Might not be by the time I’m done,” he
smirked as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket. “I got this. You
got the sandwich.”

“I said it was my treat.”

“Right. I’m feeling just a bit wrong about
that, so I’ll get the beer.”

Pearl slid her wallet back into her purse.
“Thank you, Mr. Morgan. I’m going to procure that table by the
window. You bring the drinks.”

He watched her walk away, and that too had
been a treat he hadn’t expected to enjoy. She had a sway in those
hips that offered a little too much. However, if he hadn’t had
noticed, he wouldn’t have felt manly. At this very moment, he
needed to feel that way.

After the woman in the T-shirt set down the
beers, he slid her the bills from his wallet. She thanked him, he
picked up the beers and headed toward Pearl.

Pearl already had napkins laid out and the
sandwich separated into two servings. Tyson set the beers down and
then took his seat at the raised stool.

“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable at a
shorter table?” he asked.

“I kinda like sitting up here and looking
down at everyone,” she said grinning as she picked up her beer and
took a long sip. “Oh, this is good.”

She held her glass up toward him as if she
were going to make a toast. She held it there until he picked up
his and mimicked her move.

“To a Friday afternoon full of promise,” she
said.

“What kind of promise?”

She licked her lips again. “I don’t know.
Let’s drink and find out.”

Pearl tapped her glass to his and then drank.
She’d taken at least two or three sips before he realized he still
had his glass in the air and was watching her.

Oh, hell, he might as well enjoy this very
awkward afternoon. God knew he wasn’t coming to town again for a
very long time. And it had been a long time since a woman seemed to
throw herself in his path. What wasn’t to enjoy about that? Except
that this wasn’t just some woman. This was Pearl Walker, daughter
of Byron Walker. The man had little morals and caused everyone in
his wake more problems than necessary.

But watching her pick up her sandwich and
take a bite, nearly did him in. Tyson sipped his beer as he watched
her and he was reasonably sure he knew exactly what kind of promise
she was offering. What man couldn’t see that?

The real choice would be whether he wanted to
get involved in such a thing. This was his half-brother’s cousin.
Wasn’t that a little too close to the family? He thought again.
Really—no—they weren’t related at all, but he was, at least, ten
years older than she was. He didn’t need that headache he thought,
as he took another sip.

Pearl watched the people walking up and down
the street as she took a sip from her beer. Of course, she might be
watching the people, but her attention was on the long stare Tyson
was giving her.

It hadn’t been until she’d touched him that
she realized she’d been working too hard. It had been a very long
time since she’d let her hair down, so to speak, and just enjoyed
an evening—or a man.

He was very visibly uncomfortable too. Still,
she was enjoying that as well.

“What do you think of the beer?” she
asked.

“Nice. Certainly could go for something a
little stouter.”

“They have it. There’s a chocolate one, but I
never make it through a whole glass.”

“You come here a lot too? A neighborly
thing?”

“You could say that. Bridal parties like to
stick together. I get invited for drinks every so often. Brides
tend to get attached to their bridal professionals. At least until
the wedding,” she said, and the hint of sadness was a bit too
obvious for her, so she planted a smile on her lips. “I direct them
here.”

“Very
neighborly
of you.”

“How come you don’t come to town?”

“Why? A half hour to get here. I usually can
send Lydia for whatever I would need.”

“You two are very different.”

“Understatement,” he said as he finished his
beer. “I didn’t realize you two were so close.”

Pearl shrugged. “We’re not. She’s involved in
two different wedding parties. Goes back to what I said about
people getting involved with the bridal professional.”