was perfect so I sketched him. He couldn’t sit still for long after he woke up, so that’s all I finished.”
“It is good.”
I almost said she could have it, but I didn’t want her to think I was bribing her to like me, even though I totally would if I thought it’d work.
She spun on the stool and faced me. “We play twenty questions. I start. You have ex-husband?”
“No.”
“Current husband?”
Was she for real? “I’ve never been married.”
“Children?”
“None.”
“Family?”
“My mother died when I was nine.”
“So young.” She tsk-tsked and patted my hand. “My mother died after I turn eighteen. Twice your age. I still miss her. Her dying . . . that is why I left Sweden for U.S. I wanted new life. One not filled with sadness.”
“Walker speaks highly of your father.”
“My father is good man. Good father. For that I am grateful.” She leaned closer. “But he make terrible husband.”
I made a sad sound that I hoped passed for a response.
“Back to questions. You have pet?”
“A cat. But she’s kind of a jerk. She only tolerates me because I feed her.”
“Cats and kids can be much alike.”
I laughed.
“Happy laugh like that is good.”
Selka’s smile reminded me of Walker’s. Where had he disappeared to?
“Trinity.”
My gaze returned to Selka’s. “Yes?”
“I make you jumpy like bean?”
“Of course you do. You’re Walker’s mother. I want to make a good impression.”
She sipped her coffee but I could still see her smirk. “How you think you’re doing?”
“Above average, which is really good for me because I tend to talk uncontrollably in situations like this. See? I’m doing it right now, chattering like a monkey.”
“My son . . . knows this monkey chatter about you?”
I sighed. “Yeah. And he likes me anyway.” At least he did until I completely blew it with his mother.
I swore I could hear myself sweating in the silence.
Then she declared, “I like you also.”
Do not fist pump.
“So I tell you secret.”
My head started shouting, Oh no. No no no no no no no. Not the secret test! But my mouth said, “Sure.”
“Lund family, big art patrons. We attend art openings. As young wife I use them as excuse to buy nice new dress, pretty shoes, to see my husband . . . slobber over me.”
I assumed she meant drool but I didn’t correct her.
She poured more coffee. “As young mother with one son, I was tired and not seeing point of buying pretty things or going to art gala. My sister Edie, she takes me to dress shop, shoe shop and lingerie shop. I feel hot like mama, not tired mama. My husband, he like hot mama so very much that he . . . persuades me to go into empty coat check room with him to show him lingerie.”
I snickered.
“I am easily persuaded. I’m also easily pregnant. Our second son was convinced that night.”
“You mean conceived?”
“Yah, that, whatever. The art gallery where persuading happened? The Walker. That’s how his name is Walker.”
I wasn’t sure if I should laugh or high-five her.
“I cannot believe you told her that story, Mom.”
How long had Walker been leaning against the wall listening?
Selka shrugged. “Just keeping it real, homey.”
Then I did laugh because she pulled off gangsta.
Ward moved in behind her and set his hand on her shoulder. “She’s still a hot mama.”
Seeing that connection, built over the years that had formed the family that meant so much to Walker, caused equal pangs of longing and loss in me. I feared I’d never have it as much as I worried that, if I did find it, somehow I’d screw it up and lose it anyway.
Walker’s lips brushed my temple. Then my cheek. Then he whispered, “Breathe,” into my ear. It calmed me, but I still glanced across the counter to see if Ward and Selka noticed my melancholy. But they were taking the cake out of the oven.
So just Walker had caught that.
I knew I should be happy that he could read me so well. And it wouldn’t be a crime to hope that I might have found what I’d always wanted. Still, it was a bit unnerving. I hadn’t known him that long. And there were things he didn’t know about me.
Ward and Selka didn’t stay long after we finished the cake. As Walker and his dad were talking, Selka took me aside.
“There’s second part to story that is secret part. From time Walker was born I knew in my gut that he would find his heart with an artist.” She gifted me with that same glorious smile her son had inherited from her. “You may be monkey-chatter girl, but he is boy who cuts off what frustrates him. Don’t be piano wire. Be piano repairer.”
I had no idea what that meant, but I nodded like she’d given me sage advice.
After Walker closed the door behind them, he said, “See? I told you my family would love you.”
“I don’t know if I’d use the word ‘love.’”
Confusion distorted his face for a moment, as if I’d just said I didn’t love him.
I didn’t love him. I liked him a lot. A whole lot. More than I’d ever liked any guy in any relationship. And just because I couldn’t imagine not seeing his smiling face every day, or laughing with him about stupid stuff, or because, now that I’d had sex with him—three times!—I felt a hard pang at the thought of never being skin to skin with him again, none of that meant I loved him.
But it does mean you’re falling in love with him, dumbass.
“Stop it.”
My gaze collided with his.
“Whatever rambling thoughts are racing though your head, put a lid on them, put them on the back burner and leave them to stew for another day.”
“Hey. That wasn’t a sports analogy—points for switching it up with food.”
Walker started to stalk me. “I’m cashing in my points. Right now.”
I couldn’t see behind me, but there wasn’t furniture to trip over, so I kept moving backward. “You don’t have enough points to buy anything.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I beg to differ. My point system is different than yours. Every time I kiss you and you make that needy little sigh? I get ten points. So by my calculations, with the amount of time we’ve spent with our lips locked in the last month? I have at least 20,000 points.”
I laughed. “Creative math, Viking.”
“I can be very creative with figures.” His gaze traveled over me as hot as a lick of fire. “Let’s start with yours. Strip out of those clothes.”
I’d cleared the entryway to the kitchen and remembered a pair of French doors on the far right. If I could make a break for it and sprint outside . . .
Sprint? You’re not even a jogger.
I told the snarky voice to shut up, turned and ran.
Walker wasn’t expecting that and I had a decent head start.
The patio door wasn’t locked and I burst into the sunshine, the concrete warm beneath my bare feet, and I came to a complete halt.
Hands landed on my hips and my back met Walker’s solid chest. “We playing tag?” He leaned in to press an openmouthed kiss on the side of my neck and my knees went weak. He held me up and emitted an evil little chuckle.
But my focus was on the sparkling water in front of me. “You have a pool?”
He stilled. “You didn’t know that?”
“How would I know it? This is the first time I’ve been here.” I surveyed the backyard. “Geez, Walker. You think you have enough space? You could put a whole other house back here.”
“I like room to move and it’s fairly private. Nothing like my folks’ place, but the second I saw this place, I bought it.”
“Was the pool here?”
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“Nope. Seems crazy to have an outdoor pool in Minnesota when there’s about two months of summer, but we had a pool growing up. Some of my best memories are from summers hanging out there with my family.”
“And you wanted that for when you have a family of your own.” My heart warmed. Walker had such a sentimental streak. Every time I got a glimpse of that sweet part of him, I wanted to twine myself around him, hold on and let it seep into me.
Soft lips landed on my temple. “Let’s swim.”
“I don’t have a suit.”
“Sure you do, babe. Your birthday suit.”
“I’m not stripping down outdoors in the middle of the day. I’ll fry to a crisp in this heat.”
Walker turned me around. “So swim in your underwear. We won’t stay in the pool all day. I’ll make sure you don’t burn.”
I had worn my nicest bra and panty set last night for our date. It could pass for a swimsuit. Feeling daring, just to counter Walker’s expectation that I’d say no, I stepped back and yanked the T-shirt over my head. Then I shimmied the sweatpants down my legs.
Once again I was bowled over by the pure lust on my man’s face.
“Don’t. Move,” he growled. “I’ll be right back.”
As soon as he disappeared inside the house, I wandered around the pool. While the design was unique—a lagoon shape with a waterfall surrounded by concrete pavers finished to resemble stone—the furnishings on the big pool deck were as scant as in the house. This space needed planters with flowers. Seating areas with pockets of shade to escape the sun. A fire pit. My beloved fire pit would look killer in the corner, surrounded by funky mismatched chairs.
Walker strolled out wearing board shorts in a horrendous shade of orange. He grinned at me. “Next time we’re out on the boat, I’ll wear these and you wear your hat. We’ll match.”
I laughed. “Or we could just burn them both.”
“Aww. Now you’ve hurt my feelings.” He held out his hand. “Let’s get wet and slippery together.”
That’s when I saw the wicked glimmer in his eye and knew this wouldn’t be us innocently splashing around in the water like a couple of kids.
He said, “You the jump-in type? Or would you rather ease in?”
I turned as if headed for the steps at the shallow end of the pool but ducked around him and launched myself into the deep end.
Ouch ouch ouch. I’d done a spectacular belly flop and my skin stung. But the water temp was perfect and I floated to the surface.
Walker was grinning at me. “Just when I think I’ve got you pegged, sweetheart, you surprise me.” He hopped in, with barely a splash, and then he popped up in the water next to me.
The sunlight glinted off his hair and his beard. I could stare at him all damn day.
“Let’s hit the shallow end that’s in the shade.” He cut through the water effortlessly, those muscled arms leading the way.
He stopped in the shade by the four-feet depth marker. As soon as I was close enough to grab, he had me plastered to his chest.
The warm, floaty feeling that flowed through me had nothing to do with the pool water. I wreathed my arms around his neck and closed my eyes, giving myself over to him completely.
Walker’s hands were busy as his mouth reacquainted itself with my skin. The press of his fingertips as he skimmed my spine. His thumbs lazily caressing my hip bones. Then he grabbed my ass in both hands and rocked against me.
Yes. I needed that pressure to relieve the ache he was creating.
But when I slipped my hand down his rigid pecs and the six-pack above his happy trail, he returned my hand to his neck, swallowing my inarticulate protest with a soft, seductive kiss that made me feel like I was sinking deeper into him.
My butt bumped against the side of the pool and my eyes flew open. Evidently the floating sensation had been somewhat real; we’d moved a few feet closer to the shallow end.
While Walker was licking, lapping and nipping at my skin, I felt a quick tug as he unhooked my bra. He slipped the straps down my shoulders and tossed the bra behind us, where it landed with a wet splat.
“Walker—” My protest died when he enclosed his hot mouth around my water-cooled nipple. His growl of pleasure seemed to vibrate through my skin, tightening the back of my neck, my belly and between my legs. I loved his silent show of passion. No need to tell me how much he loved my breasts or how hot and hard it made him. I knew that at the most basic level with every nip of his teeth, every suctioning pull of his mouth, every plundering kiss and his every labored breath skating across my skin.
Then his mouth was on my ear. “I want you like this. Wet and pliant in my arms.” He sucked the skin below my ear and I squirmed. “Are you wet for me?”
“Yes.”
“Turn around.”
I did. Almost blindly. But then I remembered. “Condom?”
His fingers were pulling my underwear down my legs. “Already covered.”
I looked at him over my shoulder. “What? When did you—?”
“When I went inside to change.” He slipped a finger inside me. “Saw you half naked and went hard as a fucking brick. I knew there was no way I was letting you go home without having you at least once more.”
The fabric of his board shorts fluttered against the backs of my legs like tiny soft fingers. And even with my body shaking with need and my hips moving to drive his finger in deeper, he asked, “You want this, right?”
“God yes.”
He canted my hips and drove inside me.
I braced myself against the side of the pool, absorbing his powerful thrusts. He had one hand kneading my breast and the other hand on my lower abdomen holding me in place. When his finger moved down and stroked me in time with his panting breaths in my ear, I splintered into a million pieces like a glass dropped on concrete.
Walker wasn’t far behind me. After another minute his entire body went rigid and he pressed his face against the nape of my neck, releasing a drawn-out groan.
Even when I noticed my fingertips resembled prunes, I didn’t want to move. I’d happily stay right there, with his heavy weight pressing against me, those big hands touching me tenderly, the heat of this breath warm on my neck and his contentment surrounding me as thoroughly as the water.
“Trinity.”
I loved that whiskey-rough way he said my name. “Yeah?”
“I wish you could stay with me today.” He kissed the slope of my shoulder. “But I know you’ve gotta work.”
“You kicking me out?”
“Yes. I won’t be a distraction until you want me to be. I’d rather have you missing me than resenting me.”
Right then, I fell just a little more. “Thank you for . . .”
“Getting you. Yeah, babe. I do get you. And now”—he scraped his teeth down the nape of my neck, sending a shiver through me—“I get you this way too. I’m a happy man.”
Mr. I’m Not Smooth always knew exactly what to say.