The Forever Girl (Wildstone, #6)(58)

And up.

The road was narrow and twisty, but Walker was calm and relaxed, which in turn kept her calm and relaxed. Well, sort of. Because watching in the ambient light as he maneuvered the car, the muscles in his shoulders and arms working, his hands corded with easy strength on the wheel, was definitely revving her up.

“This week must seem pretty tame to you,” she said, “just hanging out and not doing much.”

“The break’s been good. Work’s been . . .”

“Crazy?”

“More like unfulfilling.”

She turned in her seat to look at him. “I thought you loved your job.”

“It’s been years since I told you that. Things change.”

“What things?”

“Things,” he said, shifting into a low gear as he took the next curve.

“So clearly, Cat didn’t give you the same ‘be open’ speech she gave me,” she said dryly.

He glanced over at her. “Cat said you need to be more open to me?”

“No.” She laughed. “But good thing your ego is in check. She said to be more open in general.”

He nodded but didn’t say anything, and she had to laugh again.

“That’s it?” she asked. “Seriously?”

“What?”

“You do realize that you’re no more open than I am, right? I mean, you know everything about me: how I grew up, where, why . . . everything. And meanwhile, I know almost nothing about your past. And then there’s how you’ve kept tabs on me. I can’t do the same because you’re impossible to follow. You’ve got a low social media profile, and it’s not like I could just ask Caitlin or Heather. So . . . talk.”

He slid her an amused look. “Isn’t that usually my line?”

She shrugged. “I stole it.”

He kept driving, and she thought maybe he was going to ignore her, but then he spoke. Not about his early years, which was what she’d been hoping for, but about later.

“The military was good for me,” he said. “Gave me a sense of purpose and some badly needed discipline.”

She snorted her agreement, which won her a smile.

“Yeah, yeah, smart-ass,” he said. “I know you know. And after, when I went into the FBI, that was good for me in a different way. I thought I’d be helping people and fighting the occasional asshole, but . . .” He shook his head. “It’s more about red tape and political careers and winning, and I don’t think like that. The sense of purpose is gone for me. I need something else.”

“I can understand that,” she said quietly. “What else do you need?”

“I don’t know.”

The frustration in his voice was clear, and she realized he wasn’t nearly as relaxed as he led everyone to think. When she looked at him, really looked at him, she could see the lines of his body seemed tight and tense, and she frowned. Again, how had she let him fool her? “Are you happy here?”

“In Wildstone, with the others? Or here in this car, with you?”

Caught off guard, she stared at him.

“Yes.” He glanced at her, then turned back to the road. “To both.”

The answer should’ve scared her but actually had the opposite effect. Something deep inside her loosened, allowing her to sit back and more fully enjoy the ride now, because she wasn’t in this—whatever this was—alone.

Surrounded by the dark night and the utter lack of city lights, the interior of the car seemed to cocoon them, giving off a sense of intimacy she hadn’t felt in a long time. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and inhaled the scent of leather seats and sexy male. She listened to the sounds around her. Music drifting from the radio, low but with a beat that seemed to match the pulse of her heart. Wind rushing past the windows. Tires gripping the dirt road. The engine humming beneath her. Her own breathing. And Walker’s.

It was hypnotizing, leaving her body vibrating like Roly’s and Poly’s with a sense of anticipation she didn’t want to put a name to yet.

The night was lit by a half-moon and some clouds that caught the moon’s glow and amplified it. She could see the black outlines of trees against a sky littered with myriad stars. She could see the hills, mostly beneath them now. And then the black span of the lake far below. “It’s all so beautiful,” she said softly. “I always forget how much I love it here.”

“You haven’t been back.”

“No.” She heard the wistfulness in her voice, so she knew he heard it too, especially when he took another look at her.

“It’s been a good week,” he said. “Maybe things will change. Maybe you’ll come back more now.”

“Maybe.” Definitely. “You?” she asked, holding her breath.

He nodded. “You and I haven’t been okay since Vegas. But the things that happened there”—he glanced over at her—“I’m still feeling.”

Her body quivered. “You mean the ‘animal magnetism thing’?”

“You sure that’s all it is?”

“Yes.” No . . .

He laughed softly and made a turn where she couldn’t even see a road. He turned again, and then once more, the soft vibration of the engine continuing to spread warmth through her. She let her gaze drift over his body and up to his face and realized he was watching her as well.