Walker Bride (14 page)

Lydia sipped from her glass. “I think Tyson
should take a date. Maybe it would make him more comfortable. He’s
feeling a little out of sorts being thrown into the Walker
clan.”

“They don’t judge him,” Pearl defended.

“I know. It’s just a lot to take in. We had a
good upbringing. Our parents loved us and never did we think he
wasn’t their son.”

“You don’t have to be born to people to be
their child.”

“I think that’s the only thing that keeps him
calm about it. He was close to our dad. He took it hard when he
died, but he promised to carry on in his footsteps, which is why he
puts up with my grandfather. And my mom feels horrible for never
telling him.”

“They didn’t see a reason to.”

“But that might have been wrong too.” Lydia
sipped from her glass. “It makes you think, though. What else in
your life isn’t like you think it is?”

Pearl filled up her glass and took a
strawberry. What would Lydia think if she told her about sleeping
with her brother—their business partner?

Sunshine filled the bedroom by the time Pearl
opened her eyes. Her head throbbed from the amount of champagne and
wine she and Lydia had consumed the night before.

But it was time to celebrate. They had the
keys and the plans to a fantastic building. Pearl’s new store was
going to be brilliant. She couldn’t wait to go in and just stand in
the space with her designer.

Lydia’s enthusiasm was equally contagious.
Pearl had only ever invested in her own business. But to know that
she would own the building where others would thrive in their
businesses too, that gave her a giddy little kick.

She wondered if Lydia was always this excited
over business deals. Did she celebrate every adventure with
champagne and was she still asleep on the couch?

Pearl managed to land her feet on the floor,
pull on her robe, and stand. She stood there a moment gaining her
balance before she started downstairs.

The smell of coffee filled the air, and she
quietly thanked God that Lydia had the sense to make some.

She walked into the quiet kitchen, looked at
the clock. It was one o’clock in the afternoon. How had that
happened?

Pearl took down a mug, poured herself a cup
of coffee, and walked into the living room.

The blanket Lydia had used was folded nicely
with the pillow set atop of it. But instead of Lydia sitting on the
couch watching a movie on her TV, there sat Tyson.

“Ah, you’re awake,” he winked at her as he
turned off the TV with the remote.

“What are you doing here?”

“Lydia called and asked for a ride to my
mom’s. She said she was severely drunk and not able to drive.”

“When did she call you?” Pearl winced at the
volume of her own voice.

“About six o’clock this morning.”

“And you came back here and let yourself
in?”

He grinned. “Do you mind?”

“No,” she replied softly. She sipped her
coffee and let it steady her a bit more. “I told her she didn’t
have to go anywhere. She was welcome to stay all day. I had nothing
going on.”

Tyson stood and moved to her. “Damn you are
sexy when you’re hungover.”

She growled. “I feel like crap.”

“And I thought I drank a lot last night,” he
chuckled as he brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes.

“The bachelor party?”

“More like my pity party,” he confessed as he
ran his hand down her arm. “I didn’t stay long at Eric’s. Smythe
and I headed back to my barn and did quite a job on my beer
collection.”

His hand slid down until it reached her hand
and he interlaced their fingers. It was intimate, and it sent a
tingle surging through her.

“Why were you having a pity party?” she
asked.

“I just don’t belong yet. They were cordial,”
he quickly added. “But…”

“You’re a Morgan.”

“I’m a Morgan,” he confirmed. “In time, it’ll
be entirely normal.”

“Not every Walker thinks you don’t
belong.”

He locked eyes with her. “Any one of them in
particular?”

Pearl swallowed hard. “I think you
belong—with me.”

Swiftly he moved in and wrapped his arms
around her, pulling her closer as she held her coffee mug out to
the side to keep it from spilling.

“That means a lot.”

“I should brush my teeth,” she said lowering
her head.

“I don’t mind. I could look at you all day,
just as you are.”

Pearl bit down on her lip. “Isn’t it kind of
risky for you to be here if Lydia is in town too?”

He winked. “Her car is here. I think we have
some time.”

She wrapped her free arm around his neck. “I
could use a shower.”

A smile spread wide on his lips. “I could use
one too,” he said as he pressed his mouth to hers.

~*~

A devious smile permeated his lips as he
drove out to his mother’s house for dinner. He’d managed to spend
the entire day entangled in Pearl’s arms, and it had been worth the
minute chance of getting caught by his sister.

They’d showered, wandered into the bedroom,
made their way to the couch, and into the kitchen. Clothes were
certainly optional all day, and that had been only one bonus, he
thought.

He needed just to tell Lydia he was seeing
Pearl. What would it hurt really?

Then his conscience kicked in. She’d asked
him not to. She’d made it a point to say she didn’t like the idea,
and he’d chosen his sister over Pearl—or so he’d told her.

Hell, he was no better than his parents at
lying.

He could feel the heat rise on the back of
his neck.

The flash of him sitting with his sister,
telling her that she was his family, and he’d always choose her,
stirred in his mind. He’d had no intentions of keeping that
promise, so why had he made it?

The windows were open at his mother’s house.
She always did love fresh air. Even in the winter, she’d keep her
windows open the littlest bit.

He parked his truck and climbed out as his
mother opened the front door.

“I could get used to you coming to town more
often. Driving out to your place wreaks havoc on my paint job.”

“I think I’ll be coming around more,” he said
hoping she didn’t read anything into it. “I’ve thought maybe it’s
time for me to leave the house anyway.”

“You’re plenty old enough to make that
decision. In fact, to put my two cents worth in, you should have
moved out when you were twenty. Your grandfather has just been
keeping you under thumb.”

“Thanks, Mom. I know that.”

“I’m just making conversation,” she continued
as he walked up the step and kissed her on the cheek. “You smell
good. A little flowery, but…” She winked.

“Don’t read into that,” he warned as he
walked into the house.

But the little hum that followed him let him
know she wasn’t going to let that down.

“Where is Lydia?”

“Oh, she’s around. She slept in pretty late.
Guess she had a good night.”

“I think she and Pearl were celebrating.”

Her mother’s lips puckered. “Do you think her
going into business with a Walker is a good thing?”

“Nothing wrong with it, Mom.”

“I know, but there’s bad blood there.”

“Not anymore. Don’t forget, I’m blood with a
Walker too.”

She huffed out a breath, which meant she
didn’t want to go down that road.

He walked to her kitchen and pulled a bottle
of water from the refrigerator. “I think this Walker/Morgan thing
is old news anyway. I’m a partner in her business too. I don’t
question it.”

“I know. You’ve got a good business mind
too.”

That was a compliment he was proud of,
especially coming from his mother, whom he considered one of the
smartest business women he’d ever known.

Lydia walked through the kitchen in a pair of
her mother’s sweatpants and a Victoria’s Secret PINK shirt. His
mother was obsessed with the brand though he thought she was much
too old for it.

Since Lydia wore her hair short, it didn’t
even look disheveled where she’d run her fingers through it so many
times.

“Thanks for coming to get me,” she said with
a yawn.

“I’m sure Pearl wouldn’t have minded you
hanging out all day.”

“I’m sure too, but Mom and I had some
business to discuss.” She exchanged glances with their mother.

“However, she slept through most of it.”

Lydia shrugged. “It’s a good year all around
for me.”

Tyson watched as both women smiled. This was
how they communicated. He wished his father was still alive so he
might have someone to keep secrets with as well. Of course, he
wasn’t sure he still would share the secret of Pearl.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on
then?”

Lydia sat down in one of the kitchen chairs
and rested her head in her hands. “I’m buying Mom out of the Garden
Room,” she said with a yawn.

He turned to his mother. “You haven’t had
that more than a year. Why are you selling it?” Then he turned to
his sister. “And you needed me for your last business deal. How can
you buy her out? And why are you?”

His mother’s cheeks pinked. “Lydia doesn’t
think it’s wise for me to get involved with my business
partners.”

“She’s made that clear enough,” he said, then
wishing he hadn’t. “I didn’t realize you had a business partner.
Other than Lydia.”

That was when his mother rubbed her hands
together, for show, and he noticed the new piece of jewelry
dominating her left ring finger.

“What is that?” He pointed to her.

Her eyes opened wide, and she smiled wide.
“Oh, look at that. A big beautiful ring.” She looked down at
it.

“Mom, what’s going on? You certainly aren’t
getting married are you? And who is it? I didn’t even know you were
seeing anyone. Your track record after dad hasn’t been
stellar.”

Lydia stood, took a moment to balance, and
then took his bottle of water out of his hands and sipped from it.
“You should get out more. She’s been seeing Les for a year now. You
haven’t bothered to notice.”

“I’ve had a few dramas in my life in the last
year,” he quipped.

His mother stomped her foot as she would when
she was irritated. “Now you two stop it. We are all grown adults
here. I have a nice man in my life, and he wants to marry me. I
said yes.”

It stung. He should have known she was seeing
someone. He should have met him. He should have given his
blessing.

Lydia had spun this so that it was his fault
too. That didn’t sit well either.

“I want to meet him,” he demanded.

“You will. At dinner tonight.”

“Tonight?”

His mother pursed her lips. “Did you have
other plans? Maybe it has something to do with that floral smell on
your clothes.” When his mother wanted to fight nasty, she could.
He’d always figured that was how she’d stayed sane living under the
same roof as his grandfather, even after his father had died. It
also gave her a great advantage in business.

Lydia moved in closer and sniffed his
clothes. “I don’t smell it.”

If he let out a sigh of relief, he’d be
caught. “That’s because she doesn’t know what she’s talking about,”
he lied. “I’ll be at dinner. Where and when?”

His mother lifted one brow, and that had
meant she’d won this battle. Was there anything more uncomfortable
than meeting a man who already wanted to marry his mother?

He caught Lydia’s scrutinizing eye. Yes, he
thought. Lying to his sister made him very uncomfortable.

Having spent the afternoon with Tyson had
been an amazing treat, but now Pearl was hurrying to get ready and
look presentable. She hadn’t planned on a day wrapped in his arms,
drowning in his kisses, ignited by his touch. She’d planned on
working on her new location, which included dinner plans.

She’d been in this position one too many
times, she thought as she checked herself in the mirror. A man
comes along and suddenly focus on what was important got lost.

This new location was going to be twice the
size with twice the inventory. It was going to take a lot more to
make a living, not to mention that she was now partially
responsible for the entire building. There wasn’t going to be
anyone to call when the roof leaked or toilet backed up. It would
be on her head now, and of course, Lydia and Tyson’s too.

But regardless, she’d be one of the people
making the phone calls to get things fixed, and she’d be one of the
people paying for the repairs.

The very thought had her stopping to take a
long, deep breath. Why did she nearly hyperventilate every time she
thought about it?

When the doorbell rang, Pearl looked at her
watch. The man was prompt, as always.

She hurried to the door and pulled it open.
Standing on the front step was Donald Jefferson looking very
handsome and put together in what she could only assume was a
custom suit.

“I could set my watch by your promptness,”
she said taking his hand and pulling him through the front
door.

“Time is money.”

“You’ve always said. So why do you set up
dinner dates?”

“One has to eat, right?” His held his hands
up in gesture then gave her a wink.

His blond hair had more product in it than
hers did. His eyebrows were more groomed. His attire was classier
than the restaurant he’d chosen, but she knew for a fact the man
had a crush on the maître d’, and that was why he’d suggested
it.

“I have some great drawings for you to look
at,” he beamed. “So let’s go so I can show you my designs.”

“I have a budget.”

He let out a deflated breath. “Your mother
would never tell me that.”

“My mother would somehow steal money from my
trust fund to pay you.”

“She does have good taste,” he chuckled as he
opened the front door.