Walker Bride (8 page)

Tyson had always been very frugal with his
money. In fact, he lived on the ranch free and clear. He made a
living—a good living. The only expense at forty-two years old was
the upkeep on his truck, which he rarely drove.

That gnawed at him more than he thought it
should. No man of his age should have nothing, and he had
nothing.

“What does this partner have to do?” he
asked, keeping his eyes on the sun that was now bright on the
horizon.

He caught sight of the smile Lydia tucked in
which had crept up on her lips when he asked. “They could be a
silent partner. You know, they’d have no dealings in the day to to
day operations, but when profit was made, they’d make their money
back and some.”

“You want me to invest in this, don’t
you?”

The smile fully surfaced now. “You’re our
only hope right now. Pearl believes in this—in me. She’s taking a
chance, and I have to make it work for her or she could lose
everything.”

Tyson finished his coffee, which had gone
cold and bitter. “Why would she do that? Why partner up with you?
You weren’t that close growing up.”

“But we are now. And she’s a business woman.
I’m a business woman. It doesn’t matter that we didn’t run in the
same crowd years ago. She’s not who she was, and neither am I.”

He nodded. He wasn’t sure if that was a good
thing or a bad thing that Pearl might be different. The old Pearl
had an edge that guaranteed no one would mess with her. Did
business-minded Pearl, in her fancy clothes, still have that
edge?

“Don’t you think you should discuss my
involvement with Pearl? She doesn’t know me.” He narrowed his gaze
on his sister. “Does she even know that you need more money?”

Lydia crinkled up her nose. “She knows we
need help.”

“If I decide to do this don’t you think you’d
better discuss it with her first?”

That had her wincing. “I was hoping you’d
discuss it with her.”

“Me?” His voice rose into an unfamiliar
octave. “This is your idea.”

“And you seem to have some connection with
her.”

His muscles tensed. “She felt me up for a
tux.”

That sent his sister into a bout of laughter.
“And you enjoyed every moment of it so don’t play that game.” When
the humor died down, she looked him square in the eye. “Please. Go
to town. Look at the place. Drop in and talk to Pearl. Me asking
her or telling her won’t be the same. She has to know that anyone
involved has her best interest at heart. And yes, I’ll talk to her.
But you check it out first.”

Tyson bit the side of his cheek as his head
spun. He’d never let his sister down. “You knew I’d give you the
money if you asked, didn’t you?”

“I hoped you would.”

“I haven’t said yes yet.”

“Yet.”

He let out a growl. “Where is the building
and where do I find Pearl Walker on a Sunday?”

Music played in the kitchen as Pearl cracked
eggs into a bowl. Lazy Sunday mornings were something she lived
for.

Her hair was piled in a mess atop her head.
She had on a pair of bunny slippers which Audrey had given her for
Christmas one year. The shorts she’d worn to bed were comfy, and so
was the thin T-shirt that clung to her body. Sundays at home there
was no need for a bra.

The thought made her do a little dance as she
picked up the fork and beat the eggs that would eventually make a
delicious omelet.

Coffee brewed in the pot to her right and
bacon sizzled on a pan in the oven. It had five more minutes to
cook and then she’d begin her omelet. Susan had taught her that
timing was everything when bringing a meal together. Pearl suffered
from timing in the kitchen, but she was feeling optimistic that
everything was going to turn out just right.

She had just enough time to walk out and get
the Sunday paper off of her porch. It was only good for all the
ads, she thought. Often she gave the rest of it to her neighbor who
had a kid with a hamster.

Pearl pulled open the door, already in a
slight bend ready to pick up the paper when she noticed a pair of
very worn boots standing on her porch.

Slowly she lifted her eyes from the boots up
the legs and body to the face of one very surprised Tyson
Morgan.

In his hand, he held the newspaper she’d come
to retrieve.

It didn’t go unnoticed that he was about to
knock, but now was scanning a look over her in her short pajama
pants, braless T-shirt, and her hair piled high on her head.

“Mornin’,” his voice croaked as he spoke.

“Hi,” her breath caught as she replied.

“I was just about to knock.”

“I see that.”

“Here’s your paper,” he said handing it to
her.

Quickly she pulled it from his hands and held
it to her chest. Chances were he hadn’t missed the firming of her
nipples against the thin fabric when she’d seen him.

“What are you doing here?”

Tyson scratched the whiskers on his cheek and
then adjusted the brim of his baseball cap.

“Right. Um…” He tucked his hands into the
front pockets of his jeans. “Lydia sent me to talk to you. It’s
business. About your business. The one you’re going into with
her.”

“The bridal mecca?”

He chuckled. “Yup. That one.”

“Are you getting married?” she asked and then
hoped he didn’t say yes. She wasn’t sure she could handle that
right now.

“No. No.” His answer was firm. “Can I come
in?”

Pearl stared at him. Did she want him in her
house? Yes, she did.

“I have coffee and bacon. I was just about to
whip up an omelet. Would you like some?”

His lips tightened as if he were giving it
some thought, but didn’t want to impose. But then his eyes lit. “I
would. Do you mind?”

“I offered, didn’t I?”

So, she wasn’t a morning person. Twice she’d
found him on her doorstep and twice she might not have been so glad
to see him.

Pearl stepped back and Tyson stepped inside.
He’d never been inside of her house, and now that he was there he
felt a bit odd about it.

Having seen the girlie interior of her store,
he might have thought her house would be spotless and white. That
surely wasn’t the case.

She wasn’t neat and tidy, but she wasn’t
messy either. Her purse sat open on a chair in the living room.
Shoes were tossed aside by the door. A blanket she might have
wrapped herself in while watching TV was thrown on the couch and a
forgotten plate and glass sat on the coffee table.

It brought a bit of pure joy to his heart to
see this side of her.

“Do you want anything in your coffee?” Pearl
asked from the kitchen.

He hadn’t even noticed she walked past him.
“No. Just black.”

Walking through the doorway to the kitchen,
he watched as she turned with a mug in her hand. She wasn’t
covering herself up now, and there wasn’t much left to the
imagination.

Tyson swallowed hard and willed every manly
part of him to behave.

She was a mess. Her hair piled on her head
and a smudge of makeup under her eyes. Nothing should have been
stirring in him, but damn he couldn’t help it. Her disheveled look
didn’t distract from her beauty.

Taking the mug from her, he looked down at
the floor. “Thanks.”

“I’m going to go change. The bacon has a few
more minutes. When the timer goes off, just pull it out. There are
oven mitts on the counter.”

He nodded, looking into his coffee now as she
scurried away. However, he did manage to take a look over the edge
of the mug as he sipped and caught her walking out the door. She
sure had an excellent body.

When the timer buzzed, Tyson set his coffee
down and pulled the tray of bacon from the oven. She was a crispy
bacon kind of person. He liked it a little floppy.

Setting the tray down on the trivet on the
counter, he noticed she’d already started beating the eggs for the
omelet she’d said she was going to have. Obviously, she hadn’t been
expecting a guest. It wouldn’t hurt to add a few more eggs he
thought.

With a careful hand, he picked up two more
eggs and cracked them into the bowl. After discarding the shells,
he went to work. His mother always added a little bit of milk to
the mix. He pulled open the refrigerator and found a nearly empty
quart of milk, which was set to expire at the end of the day.

He added a drop of milk and turned on the
burner on the stove.

Pearl had already set out her cheese and the
few items she was planning to put into the omelet. There was no
reason to assume she wasn’t going to use everything. He’d just make
one big omelet, and they could split it.

He looked at the bag of cheese. It too looked
as though it might be on its last day and there wasn’t much of it.
Maybe he’d let her have most of the omelet.

Pearl could smell the bacon. He’d taken it
from the oven. That was good. Now she could smell something
else.

Quickly she finished with the mascara she’d
started to put on and gave herself one more look in the mirror.

Aside from not having had a shower, she
thought she looked pretty good.

She’d pulled her hair back in a ponytail,
washed her face, and added some mascara and tint to her lips. The
yoga pants she’d chosen were brand new, so they looked nice. Most
important was the bra she’d put on. She couldn’t believe he’d seen
her without one. Even dressed, no woman should let a man see her
braless unless he was the one that took it off of her.

The tank top she’d chosen wasn’t as casual as
the yoga pants, but she was attracted to the man. She did want to
entice and impress him a little.

Her cheeks heated. She’d found him on her
front porch twice in two days. Perhaps that was a sign that she had
enticed him. Was there a genuine interest there?

Pearl had brushed her teeth, but for good
measure, she gargled some mouthwash. Breakfast was probably going
to taste funny now, but it was worth it.

As she descended the stairs, she could hear
dishes rattle and the sound of the pan on the stove. When she
turned the corner, she could admit she was genuinely impressed.

“You finished breakfast?”

He turned, and she noticed his eyes widen as
he took her in. Quickly he went back to his task. “Yeah. Thought I
could be helpful.”

“Thank you,” she said with a sultry tone in
her voice that she hadn’t planned. “I’ll get some forks.”

She eased up next to him and pulled open the
silverware drawer. He was close now. So close she could feel the
heat from his body. Inhaling, she caught the scent of his soap on
his skin. It was nice. Thoughts of having wrapped her arms around
him while she measured him sent a tingle down up her spine.

It was enough to have her shake away the
sizzle that traveled through her. Though she must have forgotten,
he was right behind her, because she backed right into him, causing
him to lift his hands to her waist to steady her.

“Everything okay?”

Pearl turned quickly in his arms before he
could remove his hands completely. “Everything is perfect.”

The kitchen wasn’t very big, and usually,
that bothered her. Today, however, she was grateful that they were
nearly pinned against the counter in the small space.

With a fork in each hand, she let her body
press up against his. His hands still held her in place.

Tyson’s eyes had gone dark.

He moved his gaze from her eyes to her lips
and back again. “You have a tattoo on your back,” he said, his
voice raspy.

Pearl blinked slowly. “You saw it?”

“Your shirt wasn’t very long.” His Adam’s
apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed. “Your shorts weren’t
very—high on your waist.” His breath had grown heavy.

The air in the kitchen became thick and hot.
“I hadn’t expected company,” she said easing against him as his
fingers dug into the skin on her hips though the thin fabric of the
yoga pants. “How much of it did you see?”

She felt his thumb making a small circle on
her hip bone, and it was sending wild signals to all parts of her
body. Signals she wasn’t sure she could continue to ignore.

“There were wings,” he said as he stepped in
closer to her and her back pushed up against the kitchen counter.
“Butterfly or angel?”

He lowered his face so that their mouths were
a breath apart. Pearl wrapped her arms around his neck as they
hovered close.

Her mouth had gone dry, but she managed,
“Perhaps you should look for yourself.”

Those must have been the words that snapped
his control. Tyson’s mouth came down on hers with a fury, and she
accepted. Their lips parted ways as their tongues fought to dance
and their bodies pressed together.

Pearl dropped the damn forks on the ground
and pulled Tyson’s hat off, dropping it as well. She wanted to run
her fingers through the short crop of hair he always kept
hidden.

His hands left her hips and skirted just
under her T-shirt so that they were on her skin. She sucked in a
breath with the kiss that consumed her.

Pearl lifted a leg around Tyson’s hips, and
he took the invitation to lift her to the counter where she wrapped
both legs around him and pulled him in closer.

Breath had to be fought for. Heat now came
from both the stove and their bodies.

She realized they’d left the pan cooking.
“The eggs,” she managed as his kiss swallowed up her voice.

Tyson pulled back. “Damn it.” He broke from
her for a moment and removed the pan from the burner. The eggs were
burnt.

Just as quickly, he turned off the stove and
moved back to her, gathering her up around him and carrying her
away from the kitchen.

She pressed her lips to the throbbing vein on
his neck, and he moaned as he took her to the living room and
deposited her on the couch with a thud.