Walker Pride (5 page)

What had made her become so trusting of the world? That wasn’t her style either.

It was then she thought of those dark eyes, that strong chin, and the body of that tall cowboy that had walked into the kitchen earlier that day. How he’d escaped her notice the day before, she had no idea. But Eric Walker had been filling her mind from the moment she laid eyes on him.

He was a distraction she couldn’t afford. She’d spent the last ten years being distracted by a handsome face and this was her time to rebuild her life. There was no need for her to get worked up over a set of chocolate eyes that had her knees going weak.

The thought crossed her mind that if Bethany lived with her Susan would be forced to be around Eric more. A moment later she nearly laughed aloud. Hadn’t Eric himself told her that he hardly knew Bethany? It didn’t seem as if he’d be hanging around to make sure her transition was smooth.

Or would he?

It really didn’t matter. Bethany had a house to tidy up, dishes to clean, and a presentation to develop for a catering job that could lead to a weekly corporate luncheon. The last thing she needed to worry about was Bethany and her cousin Eric.

There was a huge chance Bethany was going to walk into the little townhouse and shake her head. But it was Susan’s home and it would remain just that until Susan made her mark on the city of Macon, Georgia. Then she’d take Atlanta by storm.

Susan had been so busy tidying up she hadn’t heard anyone pull up out front. She’d jumped when the doorbell had rung.

She hurried down the steps to the front door and pulled it open.

The glorious redhead stood on the porch with a smile that lit up her face, but it was the man behind her that commanded Susan’s attention. He towered over Bethany and his smile wasn’t bright at all.

“Hi. I didn’t hear you pull up,” she said.

Bethany laughed easily. “Really? Eric’s truck is a beast.”

“It’s a good truck.”

“He’s sentimental over her. Can we come in?”

Susan nodded, but it took her a moment longer to command her body to step back and let them into her space.

Bethany instantly let out an, “Ah! This is wonderful.”

Susan smiled graciously. “Thank you.”

Eric said nothing. His eyes scanned the walls as if he were looking for spider webs or cracks in the plaster.

It was stupid to care what he thought of her house. What mattered was Bethany liking it. And if she didn’t like it, then there was nothing lost and tomorrow would be another day in Susan’s life.

“C’mon, I’ll show you around.” She started through the living room but noticed Eric stood at the door. “Are you coming?”

“No need for me to walk around. I’ll wait here.”

Susan nodded and walked back toward the kitchen with Bethany.

Eric shoved his idle hands into his front pockets. He should have let Bethany come on her own. Just being in Susan’s personal space was making him itchy. The neighborhood wasn’t upper class, but it wasn’t sketchy either. The outside of the townhouse was in need of some repairs, but she seemed to have made the inside something special.

Each room, that he could see, was boldly painted. The living room was yellow and the dining room blue. He looked up the steps, which no doubt led to her bedroom. The walls were red; black and white photos lined the wall almost like an art gallery.

The photos weren’t of faces. There were people and places—things. A collection of sewing items. A girl on a swing with her hair blowing as she reached the sky. An old tractor. A wilted rose.

But the one that caught his attention was a pair of tennis shoes. It was very simple, but it was captivating.

“Eric, you shouldn’t walk around people’s houses without them,” Bethany said and he realized he’d walked all the way up the stairs looking at the art.

“Sorry. I got caught up in the photos.”

Bethany looked at them and her eyes grew wide. “Oh, these are lovely. Did you do them?”

Susan looked up at him as if to judge his appreciation, or lack of it, toward her artwork.

“It’s a hobby of mine. I took some classes when I lived in Colorado.”

Bethany continued her appreciation of the photos as she climbed the steps, but Susan hadn’t released her stare from him. And he hadn’t let his gaze wander—not yet.

“This is brilliant,” Bethany’s tone rose and each of them broke their stare and focused on the photo in front of her. “Who is this?”

“That would be my grandmother, my mother, and me,” she said in an uneven tone.

Eric stepped down to stand behind his cousin. There were three sets of hands holding one another. Each set grew older. And each set had a wedding ring adorning the ring finger.

Eric felt the pang of jealousy hit him in the chest. Well, wasn’t that stupid? He’d known the woman all of a few hours. What the hell did he care if she was or had been married?

Bethany caught his attention as she wiped at her eyes.

“Are you crying?” he asked and she turned toward him shooting him an angry look.

“It’s beautiful. It moved me.”

He looked back toward Susan now, but her eyes never met his.

“I’ll let you two finish your tour,” he said stepping past Bethany on the steps.

“I have more photos in my room.” She lifted her eyes to his. “Would you like to see them?”

No. No, he most certainly didn’t want to see her bedroom.

Eric swallowed hard. Okay, that wasn’t what she’d said. When he didn’t give an answer, she walked past him and Bethany followed.

He rubbed the back of his neck as he stared at the photo of the hands. It was a moving photo.

Oh, hell. What would it kill him to look at the rest of her art?

Susan walked through the door of her bedroom with Bethany in tow still oohing over her photos. Eric, however, didn’t seem to be right behind them. All the better.

“These are ones I took of the Flatirons in Boulder,” Susan said explaining the rock formations in the pictures. “And these are near Red Rocks Amphitheater.”

“Was that where you lived?”

His voice carried through the room and had rattled right into her bones.

She looked up at him leaning so casually against the doorjamb.

“Yes.”

“That’s a nice area.”

Why did he look so sexy with that scowl standing there watching her?

“It’s beautiful.”

“So what made you decide to be a caterer? Obviously you’re an amazing photographer.”

That was an uncomfortable question, and it shouldn’t have been. But it didn’t need an answer—really.

“It’s just a hobby to decorate my walls.” She let out a slow breath. “Let’s go down the hall to the other room.”

Susan noticed that Eric hadn’t moved from his position as she neared the door. She slid past him, fully aware that his eyes were on her as she did so.

“This is the bigger room. It has an adjoined bathroom and a small deck off the back.”

“Oh, awesome!” Bethany said as she walked into the room. “Why didn’t you keep this one for yourself? This is beautiful. Oh, look at the view!” she said, pulling the blind up on the window.

The city showcased itself just above the treetops in the distance.

“Quite a change from L.A.,” Eric’s voice again carried through the room and had Bethany turning toward him.

“That would be the point of change.” She walked toward the closet and pulled open the doors. “Look at the room! Really, why didn’t you keep this room?”

Susan shrugged. “Easier to rent if the person is getting something for their money.”

“How much money?” he asked.

Susan straightened her shoulders. “We can discuss numbers. Bethany and I.”

He gave her a slow nod. “You’re kindly telling me to butt out.”

“Unless you’re paying her rent.”

“Business woman.”

“To the core,” she retorted as she watched him and wondered what it was he was digging for.

“I love it,” Bethany chimed in. “If we can work something out I’d love to live here. Does the bed come with the room? I don’t have anything but a suitcase.”

Susan chuckled. “Yes. It comes with the room.”

“Good.” She looked back at Eric. “You’re off the hook, cuz. If we can work this out, you won’t have me on your couch at all.”

“You’re going to negotiate this now? Dane and I are hungry.”

“Dane?” Susan asked.

“My brother. He’s in the truck.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to keep you.”

Bethany shook her head. “They’re men. They think with their stomachs. Don’t pay any mind to them.”

Susan thought that might be hard to do. The man seemed to be consuming her mind this afternoon.

“Why don’t you come with us? To dinner.” Bethany offered. “I’ll bet Dane would find you fascinating.”

“Oh, I don’t…”

“Yes. You’re coming,” Bethany grabbed her hand and pulled her through the door past Eric once again. She was sure she heard a grunt from him as they passed.

Suddenly, she did want to go—especially if it was annoying him.

Susan had quickly gathered her jacket and her purse as Bethany drug her from the house.

“Tell me where you’re going and I’ll meet you there,” she said as she noticed Eric getting into his truck. “There isn’t room for three of you in that truck let alone four of us.”

The man who had been waiting in the truck stepped out. She recognized him from the funeral and the reception at the house. He wasn’t near as tall as Eric, but they had similar features. He too was handsome, but with a more forlorn look.

“Susan, this is Dane,” Bethany said as he stepped out of the truck.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she said with a gracious smile. “So where are we going?”

“The Rookery,” Eric said flatly.

“On Cherry?”

He gave her a nod. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Dane, go with her. I can’t tell her how to get there. I don’t even know where I’m at,” Bethany added as she climbed into the truck.

Did he wince? Susan was sure that was what he’d done. How was this going to be a fun night?

Bethany shut the door to Eric’s truck and they pulled away from the curb.

“He’s short tempered, isn’t he?” she asked as she walked toward her car in the driveway.

“He likes his space. He hasn’t had much of that the past few days. Now he’s in town going out for dinner. Not much his style.”

As she opened the door to the car and eased in behind the wheel, she decided that Dane wasn’t as dull as he’d appeared to be. This was a man with a lot on his mind.

“He’s just a hermit, huh?”

Dane shrugged. “He’s the protector, I suppose. You know, the one who makes sure everyone gets where they’re supposed to.”

“But at his own cost.”

“Maybe. He’s lived on the ranch his whole life. Lost his mom at eight. My mom loves him as her own, but it’s always different. And now…” He turned his head toward her as she pulled onto the street. “Maybe he doesn’t want anyone outside the family to know what’s going on.”

“I’m not put out. I was just the caterer.”

Dane nodded. “I’ll bet you pick up a lot of information just hanging out in the kitchen.”

She grinned. “I always thought it would be interesting to be a mail carrier or even a trash collector. Can you even imagine what they know?”

“Society’s silent observers?”

“Exactly,” she said on a laugh and Dane relaxed into the seat.

Perhaps he wouldn’t be as dull as she thought he might be.

Eric drove without a word, but he could feel Bethany’s eyes on him.

Finally, he shifted a glance her way. “What?”

“I’m just trying to figure you out. You’re a mystery to me.”

“Likewise.”

Tossing her mane of curls behind her shoulder, she looked out the window. “I used to dream about you. Did I ever tell you that?”

“That sounds a bit incestuous.”

“No, no,” she laughed as she turned back toward him. “I used to dream that you were my brother. In fact, when I was much younger, I would tell my friends that I had a brother who lived in Georgia.”

“Why would you do that?” he asked as he turned down Cherry Street.

“The few times I’d been around you…I mattered.”

Eric shifted in his seat. He wasn’t one for deep, family talks and it looked as though this was where she was going.

“Of course you matter.”

“Not to my father.” Her voice softened. “My brothers and sisters don’t know me very well. I’m sure there are a lot of harsh feelings there. But you were always nice to me.”

“I’m old enough to be your father. I wasn’t going to be mean to you.”