Can't Stand the Heat? (13 page)

“You look pleased with yourself.”

It was the drummer from the band. Walker straightened. She was a friend of Jen’s. He’d seen the two women talking.

“I’m Delaney.” She slid onto the stool next to him.

“Yes, I remember you from the receiving line at Quinn’s wedding. Walker Barnes. Any reason I shouldn’t be happy?”

Quinn set a tall glass of something clear in front of her, and Delaney smiled in thanks. She took a drink, then wiped a trickle of sweat from her temple. Her short blond hair was plastered against her forehead, and the T-shirt she wore had dark sweat stains on it.

She leaned one elbow on the bar as she studied him. “Depends. What are you up to with Jen?”

“Are you always this suspicious?”

“Yep.” Her straw made a sucking sound as she drained the glass.

“I’m holding my breath, waiting for her to walk out that door and dazzle me. I can barely contain my excitement.” He finished his Leinie and set the glass down.

She frowned. “You mess with her and you mess with all of us,” she said. “I want to make sure you know that.”

“Got it. Hurt Jen and the skinny drummer will beat me up.”

“You’ve got that right, pal,” she said. “Just wanted to be clear.”

“Clear as your drink,” he assured her.

Would any of his friends protect him like that? Stand in front of anyone who might hurt him?

Kirit, maybe. They’d been tight for a long time, although their relationship was mostly business now. Walker couldn’t think of anyone else.

He suspected that everyone in the pub would jump to Jen’s defense.

“You looking out for her, too?” Walker nodded at a blonde who was talking to one of the guitarists, who looked agitated. “Maybe you ought to go talk to your buddy in the band.”

Delaney glanced at the couple, then rolled her eyes. “Paul and Laura are a couple of dumb-asses who have to work things out themselves. They’re on their own.”

“At least I’m not a dumb-ass,” Walker said lightly.

Delaney narrowed her gaze as she pushed off the stool. “I hope not, Barnes.”

As he watched her ease her way through the crowd, Quinn appeared on the other side of the bar. “You waiting for Jen?”

“Why? Are you going to warn me off, too?”

“What are you talking about?”

Walker nodded at Delaney, who was chatting with Maddie. “She threatened to kick my ass.”

Quinn laughed. “That’s our Delaney. The adrenaline gets going when she’s playing. She needs an outlet.”

He was an outlet? Walker smiled reluctantly.

The lights went off in the kitchen. Taking out his wallet, he threw several bills on the bar and stood. “That’s my cue. Talk to you later, Quinn.”

Jen emerged through the swinging door, and stopped at the edge of the crowd. Her ponytail was a little ragged, with wisps of hair curling around her face. Her T-shirt was wrinkled from her apron, and her jeans sat low on her hips.

She scanned the pub and stilled when she saw him watching. Their eyes met.

But she couldn’t focus on that when Walker was around. He was a reminder of everything she wanted to forget about herself.

She began walking toward her parents’ house.

The pub door opened and footsteps echoed behind her. She knew who it was.

“Go away.”

“Why should I?” Walker said. She could hear him coming closer.

“I don’t want you to walk me home.”

“Why not?”

“Because you remind me of the worst part of my life.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, carried away by the wind.

“Bad memories can be replaced,” he said.
He’d heard her.
“Let’s make new ones.”

“Don’t you get it? We can never get beyond the past. What I did to you.” She walked faster, but he kept up with her easily. “Why would you even want to?”

“Give me a little credit, Jen. I know people change. We’re not stuck with the teenage version of ourselves.”

The door of the Harp opened again, then closed with a thump. Walker glanced over her shoulder and steered her away from the bar.

“People do change.” She hoped she had. “But sometimes, the past can’t be left behind.”

As they walked down the deserted street toward her house, the footsteps behind them sounded louder. As if the people were catching up. The sidewalk was lined with shops, but everything was closed. His arm tightened, and he abruptly shoved her around a corner.

He stood in front of her and tensed as footsteps neared the corner. The two figures, still in deep shadows, stopped abruptly when they saw him.

“Did you want something?” Walker asked in a neutral voice.

“We want to talk to her,” the man said.

Jen stepped out of the doorway. “Rusty? Lauralee? What’s going on?”

Rusty Melton was shorter than Walker, but bulging with muscles. His shaved head gleamed in the streetlight, and dark tattoos ran down both arms. Lauralee was even shorter and wore a tight skirt and a low-cut blouse.

Rusty stared at Jen, flexing his fists, clearly enraged. She tensed, ready to run. Walker stepped in front of her again.

“Out of my way, pretty boy,” Rusty said. “Our business is with her.”

“These are the Meltons,” Jen told Walker. “Stevie’s parents.”

Rusty flexed his fist, and Lauralee crossed her arms over her chest.

“Why did you follow us, Rusty?”

“You sent the cops to our house,” he said, and Walker tensed beside her. Rusty spat on the sidewalk. “I’ve seen that boy of yours sniffing around Stevie.”

“You’re putting your children in danger. You should be ashamed of yourself,” she told him.

“That’s none of your business.”

“Someone has to care about them.”

Walker put his hand on her shoulder, and she could feel him struggling to control himself.

“You think I don’t care about my kids?”

“Sure doesn’t look like it, Rusty.” She glanced at the woman. “What are you thinking, Lauralee?”

“I do right by my kids,” the woman said. “Nobody can say otherwise.”

“I’m saying otherwise.”

Rusty lunged for her, and Walker stepped in front of her, saying, “You have to go through me first.”

“I’m calling the police, Walker,” Jen said.

She tried to pull Walker back, but he shook her off. “Good idea.” He watched Rusty steadily.

“You think you can take me?” The burly man raised what looked like a switchblade and extended it toward Walker, but before he could release the blade, Walker kicked it out of his hand. It flew into the street and skidded halfway across. With shaking fingers, Jen punched in 911.

“What the hell?” Rusty started for the knife, then swung around to face Walker, his eyes bright with rage. He cocked his arm back and let his fist fly.

Walker dodged him easily and kicked him in the gut. The man bent over with a grunt, and Walker chopped his hand against the side of Rusty’s neck. The drug dealer collapsed on the sidewalk, unmoving.

“You killed him,” Lauralee shrieked, leaping at Walker, her fingers curled into claws. She gouged his face before he managed to grab her arms, then hold them tightly as she thrashed.

“Stop it,” Walker said, shaking her. “Settle down.”

By the time the cops arrived, Rusty was on his hands and knees, retching in the gutter. The officers handcuffed a screaming, cursing Lauralee and put her into one of the squad cars. As they yanked her husband to his feet and handcuffed him, Walker and Jen explained what had happened.

Jen pulled a tissue from the pack in her purse and pressed it to the scratch on Walker’s face. He told Brady Miller about the knife and kicking it into the street. Lauralee alternately cried and swore, while Rusty hurled threats at both of them.

“Your kids home alone, Melton?” Brady said to Rusty. When he answered with a curse, Brady looked at Jen and Walker. “We’ll call county Child Protective Services.”

“Tell them the kids can stay at my parents’ for tonight,” Jen said.

She waited until Pete Meyer put Rusty into the other squad car, then pointed out the knife. The police officer slipped on latex gloves and picked it up gingerly. “Been a long time since I saw one of those. They’re illegal.”

When the two police cars finally drove off, Walker pulled her against him. She wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly.

“I don’t believe that happened,” she said into his chest. “People don’t get mugged in Otter Tail.”

“God. What if you’d been alone?” He buried his face in her neck. “I wanted to kill him.”

“They just wanted to scare me.” She tried to sound confident, but her voice wobbled.

He cupped her face in his hands. “You really believe that?”

“I don’t know,” she said, closing her eyes and burrowing closer. Rusty had looked as if he did want to hurt her. As if he looked forward to it.

“You shouldn’t walk home from work anymore.”

“I know. I’ll drive from now on.”

“I’ll take you and pick you up. Just in case someone is waiting in the parking lot.” Anger glittered in his eyes and his jaw worked. “Nothing’s going to happen to you, Jen.”

A gust of wind blew past the corner, and she tugged her sweater more tightly around her. “They followed us out of the Harp.” Her teeth chattered, and she was suddenly freezing.

“Yeah. They were waiting for you to leave.” He took off his coat and wrapped it around her. “Let’s get you home.”

He tucked her close, and she leaned against him.

“You were so fast.” She’d barely seen him move.

He took a deep breath, and some of the tension left his shoulders. “Working on the boat was good for something, I guess. One of my jobs was breaking up fights on the charters. It didn’t take long to figure out what worked.”

“Fights? On fishing boats?”

“Alcohol, testosterone and competition. Never a good mix.”

“Oh, Walker.”

Another thing to lay at her door.

“Jen! You could be more gracious,” her mother scolded.

“You’re right, Mom.” She turned to him. “Thank you, Walker. It’s so kind of you to say so. Your praise makes me giddy with joy.”

“Smart-ass,” he said under his breath.

Everyone was talking at once. Nick and Stevie were chattering about something that had happened at school that day, and Adam and Tommy were arguing about the video game they’d been playing earlier. Jen sat next to Walker, and she’d given up trying to inch away every time her leg bumped his. Her parents beamed at them from their seats at either end of the dining-room table.

The chaos was comfortable.

“Walker, you are gonna kick ass tomorrow night,” Nick crowed, snapping him out of his trance.

“Nick,” his grandmother said, her smile disappearing. “That’s not appropriate language for the dinner table.”

Walker cleared his throat. “Uh, thanks, Nick. You’ve been a big help getting
Sorceress
ready.”

He shrugged, but Walker could practically see his chest swell. “I’ll probably be able to get extra credit from my programming class.”

Walker had been surprised how much help Nick had contributed. He’d done good work and had learned fast. The kid was talented. “Let me know if you need a note or something.”

“Sure.”

Stevie elbowed him, but Nick pretended he hadn’t noticed. Before Walker could say anything more, Tommy and Adam demanded that he settle their argument about the video game.

By the time Jen and her mother signaled the kids to clear the table, he felt as if he’d been having dinner with them for years.

He carried his plate into the kitchen, and when Nell Horton went back to the dining room, he said to Jen, “Thanks again for inviting me.” He nudged her hip with his. “To eat the fish we caught together.”

“I had nothing to do with catching those fish. And you know I thought you’d refuse.”

“Is this what it’s always like?” He gestured to the other room, where the kids were still talking.

“Unfortunately, no. If you want the complete experience, you’re welcome to join us when Nick is sulking and sarcastic and Tommy is whining.”

“No, thanks,” Walker said. “I’ll keep my illusions.”

“Homework time, guys,” Jen called.

The four headed for the basement without an argument, and Jen narrowed her eyes.

“What?” he asked.

“They agreed to that way too quickly.” She called down the stairs, “I’m coming to check on you, and there better not be any horsing around.”

“Horsing around?” Nick’s voice floated up to her. “What’s that?”

“Remember, I’m listening.”

“I talked to CPS today,” Nell said quietly. “They think they have a foster home for Stevie and Adam. I said they were welcome to stay here for now.”

“Thanks, Mom, but they should probably go to a foster home, anyway. Stevie and Adam are assuming they’ll go home once their parents are out on bail, but they may not be allowed to go back there. That would be terribly upsetting for them, and they’ll need to be with a family who knows how to care for them in that complicated situation.”

“Those Meltons don’t deserve such sweet children.”

“No, Mom, they don’t. But we have to deal with the reality, not what we want things to be.”

Jen shifted her gaze to Walker, then quickly looked away.

“Do you want coffee, Walker?” Nell said with a smile as she noticed him standing there. Apparently she hadn’t noticed the sudden tension.

“No, thanks,” he said easily. “I have a lot to do before we launch the game tomorrow night.” He glanced at Jen. “Walk me to the door?”

“Take your time, honey,” Nell said, squirting dish detergent into the sink. “Your dad and I will be in here for a while.”

“Mom,” Jen said under her breath. “Knock it off.”

Biting back a smile, Walker waited until they were on the screened porch to say, “She’s not very subtle, is she?”

“She doesn’t know the meaning of the word. Sorry.”

“It’s kind of funny.” He ran his fingers down Jen’s arm. “Are you going to be at the Harp tomorrow?” he asked.

“Of course. I’m working.”

“Think your boss would let you out of the kitchen for a while?” He wanted her to see his work. And wasn’t that pathetic? It was as if he were a kid again, waiting for his crush to notice him.

“I wouldn’t miss it.” She put her palm on his chest, and his heart jumped. “Nick is so excited about this. Thank you for making him feel special.”

“He
is
special.” Walker put his hand over hers.

“He’s been his old self again,” she said, cupping Walker’s face. “I suspect it was a lot of extra work for you, but it was so good for Nick. Especially since…” She clamped her mouth shut.

“Since what?”

She shook her head.

“You can’t leave me hanging,” he said, drawing her closer. “Tell me.”

Sadness flickered in her eyes. “Tony and Nick fight a lot.”

“About what?”

She smiled, but it looked strained. “Oh, everything. You’d know exactly what I was talking about if you had a—”

Her eyes widened. “If I had a what, Jen?” he asked slowly. “If I had a child? A son of my own?” Carefully, he let go of her and took a step away.

“Nick’s not—”

“He’s not my son. I get it. Good night, Jen.” Without a backward glance, he was gone.