Bet on It (26)

Every time Louise came by to check in, Walker spoke very little and kept his gaze turned towards Aja. When the check came and questions about dessert were asked, he requested three pieces of peach cobbler to go. Louise informed him that there would be a fifteen-minute wait, since the latest batch was still in the oven. Ms. May, finally noticing her grandson’s discomfort, insisted that she would stay and wait while he went outside and got some air. Aja could barely blink before Walker was throwing his credit card on the table and pulling her out of the booth along with him.

The second the door to the diner swung shut behind him, he let out a long, shaky breath. He clutched her hand a little tighter, remaining silent as he led them through the parking lot towards where their cars were parked. When he finally let go, she had to wipe her clammy palm on her jeans. Once her hand was dry again, she was overcome with missing the weight of his.

Walker pulled the tailgate of his truck down and motioned her over. His hands stretched out near her lower body, then paused.

“Can I help you up?” he asked, his voice rough. “I don’t want to just put my hands all over you without—”

“Yes,” she interrupted him. “Go ahead.”

His hands were only on her waist for a few seconds, but she was sure she’d never get over how delicious his grip was. She pressed her thighs together as she sat, watching him hoist himself up on the truck. Heat rushed to her center. No matter how the rest of the night turned out, she knew exactly how her next fantasy of him was going to go.

“I fucking hate her.” His voice in the quiet night shocked her out of her lust.

“Who?” He couldn’t possibly have been talking about his grandmother, could he?

“Louise fuckin’ Smith,” he growled. “And I fuckin’ hate that Gram talks to her like that. Like she’s not an awful fuckin’ person.”

“What did she do?” Her heart started thudding, this time for all the worst reasons. “Did she hurt you?”

He didn’t answer. He just clenched his jaw so tightly that she was sure she could hear his teeth grinding into a chalky powder. He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his face up towards the sky. She knew exactly what he was doing: closing himself off, refusing, for whatever reason, to give her the information she was seeking.

A pang of hurt ran through her. She had no real right to feel it though. She and Walker hadn’t known each other long. What had she done to make him feel comfortable enough to share things that were obviously painful for him?

Whatever it was, it had him mad enough to spit. He kept his eyes clenched shut and the expression on his face was more thunderous than any summer storm she’d ever experienced. It didn’t matter how badly Aja wanted to know exactly what was bothering him and why. He wasn’t interested in sharing. Her mind reeled with possibilities, each situation more awful than the last. Every single one made her ache for him, and the pain written across his face made her want to wrap him up in her arms and give him what little comfort she could provide.

She didn’t know if he’d be open to that though, and there was no way in hell she was about to ask. Not when she could practically feel the sparks flying off his skin. So she pushed down her need to know and reminded herself that she and Walker weren’t as different as she liked to think. If you replaced his anger with anxiety, their reactions to situations like this were strikingly similar. She tended to close off too, retreating into a place where it felt like no one could see or touch or hurt her. She knew full well that she wouldn’t be open to baring her shit to a near stranger either. So she gave him the same grace she hoped he would have given her and kept quiet.

She stayed sitting beside him, not touching him, not speaking to him. Just there, waiting for the moment he finally wanted to talk or leave.

The latter happened when Ms. May appeared in the doorway of Minnie’s, to-go boxes in a plastic bag hanging off one of her casts and a grim look on her face. The former never came.





Chapter 9


Walker spent the rest of Wednesday night and most of Thursday trying to muster the self-consciousness he was supposed to be feeling about behaving the way he did with Aja. When it didn’t come, he decided to move on. Push it to the part of his brain where he kept the things that he didn’t feel like dealing with. It would come back sooner or later, he was sure. Sooner, when Aja asked him about it, or later, when he vomited out the story to one of his Charleston friends. Either way, he wasn’t about to unpack those feelings now.

In the aftermath of his emotional breakdown, his mouth had been uncharacteristically quiet. Giving Gram the silent treatment wasn’t something he was particularly proud of, but it was what it was. He couldn’t get over how she’d had a whole entire conversation with Louise like she was completely unaware of their history. Asked about her fucking vacation plans like she hadn’t been the one to comfort him every time that woman started some new bullshit rumor about them. He didn’t understand what the hell Gram was thinking—but then, he never really did. When he was younger, the rift made him sad. Now it pissed him off.

That anger kept him in bed for most of Friday morning. It hadn’t stopped him from getting up early to make Gram breakfast and put it in the microwave, but it had kept him from speaking to her directly. He’d taken his work stuff from the dining room table up to his room and gotten some work done from his bed. Around noon, he was still tucked under his covers, dressed in nothing but his boxers, scrolling mindlessly through Twitter on his phone when his best friend texted.