“Liar. You never flirted with me. I would’ve noticed.”
She threw back her head and laughed, drawing his gaze to the long curve of her neck. “You wouldn’t have noticed in a million years, Walker.”
“I would have. You smart girls didn’t flirt with me, so it would have been memorable.”
“I guess we were too smart to get pulled into trouble with boys like you.”
“Exactly. So what happened?”
Her hand curled around his arm as she edged close enough to speak into his ear. “Now we’re smart enough to know exactly the kind of trouble we want.”
He couldn’t sleep with her. He couldn’t. And she was just flirting anyway. It meant nothing more to her than sitting on that other guy’s lap had. But, God, his heartbeat picked up at the thought. Charlie. Sweet, smart Charlie, filling his head with images of sex. It was wrong. And more than a little intimidating.
She was way smarter than he was. Always had been and always would be. She’d been a great tutor, but his skin still prickled in fear at the memory of having to write in front of her, concentrating so hard at shaping the letters the right way and spelling everything correctly. Damn embarrassing that the only girl he’d had to do schoolwork in front of had also been the smartest girl he’d known.
He’d hated every moment of it, but her kindness had made it easier to make a fool of himself in front of her.
Despite all that, she still seemed to like him. And he’d never have to do homework in front of her again.
Charlie pressed a beer into his hand.
He tried to give it back. “I’m not drinking your beer.”
“I’ve got a whole pitcher. I’m a big girl, but I can’t drink that much on my own.”
“I suppose. You are tall, but not as tall as you used to be.”
“That’s because you kept getting bigger and bigger. I like that. Have you ever stopped growing, Walker?”
This time, when she pressed the beer into his hand, he took it. And downed it in two gulps. He could handle this. He could. It was just good-hearted fun, like flirting with any other woman.
“Come on.” She took his hand and tugged him toward the corner of the bar. “Rayleen’s having trouble getting a clear view of your ass and she’s giving me the evil eye.”
Sure enough, when he turned around, Rayleen gave him an irritated wave, urging him closer.
“Hey, Rayleen,” he said when he got within earshot. And eyeshot.
“Hey, nothing. Ain’t that your dirty little piece over there?”
“What?” He looked down for a moment, then over at Charlie, but she shrugged.
“No, there,” Rayleen said, pointing toward the pool table area.
When Walker’s eyes focused on the far side of the saloon, he was hit with a rush of alarm. Several waves of panic fell on him at once, flooding his body with adrenaline.
First, that Nicole was here. Second, that she was glaring at him. And third, that someone who shouldn’t know anything about her knew more than enough.
He spun back to stare wide-eyed at Rayleen, but the old woman just shrugged. “A dog shouldn’t shit where it sleeps,” she offered. Nice imagery, but not exactly helpful.
Charlie’s head turned from Rayleen to him and he winced.
“Romantic troubles?” she asked.
No. Not romantic. “Fuck,” he cursed, inadvertently correcting Charlie’s words as he scrubbed a hand over his beard.
Charlie rolled her eyes. “Oh, is that all?”
When she laughed, he shot her a pained smile. She wasn’t offended. But she would be if she found out the details. “Pardon me,” he said, hesitating for only one second before he turned away.
For a moment, he was disoriented, looking for Nicole and not finding her. Maybe she’d gone. His gaze dropped. Or maybe she was standing right in front of him, her arms crossed over her admittedly nice chest.
He cleared his throat and slid his eyes toward the door. “What are you doing here?”
“Having a drink,” she snapped, tossing her straight blond hair with a twitch of her head.
“Right.” He stepped forward, edging her away from Charlie and the rest of his friends. “But there’s plenty to drink at the ranch.”
“But no good company these days.”
“Slow season,” he said.
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” Her eyes shifted. “Who’s that?” she bit out, tipping her chin toward the bar. He didn’t have to ask who she meant. “Your new bed warmer?”
“Nicole.” He sighed. “I don’t want to argue about that. You’re married.”
“Right. That didn’t stop you from kissing or touching but now it’s your excuse for ignoring me?”
Shit. He tried to sneak a look over his shoulder toward Charlie. She caught his eye and offered a sympathetic wince. “I’m sorry. Really. I’ve been busy. I’m scrambling for work.”
“Maybe I could help get you hired on somewhere. If—”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he interrupted. “It’s already complicated enough.” He glanced around the room and saw enough eyes on them to make him squirm. “As a matter of fact, why don’t we talk outside?”
“Don’t want to be seen with me?”
“Jesus, Nicole. You have a husband!”
She shrugged. “As if he cares.”
“He cared enough to fire me, apparently.”
Mouth tight with anger, she finally said, “Fine,” and headed toward the door. Walker followed, wondering if the back of his neck was as red as it felt. Thankfully he still hadn’t gotten that haircut.
Why the hell had she come here and drawn attention to both of them? At least he didn’t have to wonder what the town knew anymore. Everybody suspected. If they hadn’t before, they certainly would now.
He almost started down the sidewalk to take her to his apartment, but the idiocy of that struck him before he hit the first step. The porch of the Crooked R wasn’t exactly private, but twilight had settled in and it was cold enough that no one else had taken a seat on any of the ancient bar stools.
She bumped into him when he changed directions and headed for one end of the porch. “Don’t you live right there?”
“I do,” he said, and left it at that.
For a moment, he thought she was going to explode. Her jaw clenched, her eyes narrowed and she drew in a deep breath. Walker braced himself for some of the cursing he’d heard her aim at her husband during fights. But in the end, she let the breath out slowly and paced to the railing to look out at the street.
“You’re treating me like shit, you know. I know I’m not your girlfriend, and I know I’m married, but how can you just walk away from me like I’m nothing?”
“I’m sorry,” he said, and meant it. “I don’t want to make you feel bad. I just...”
“I’m lonely, Walker. My husband and I aren’t talking, and you’re the only one who ever treated me as more than the owner’s wife. It’s a hundred times worse now. People don’t know if they should even be nice to me.”
“We shouldn’t have done what we did. What we were thinking about doing. If he thinks we—”
“Oh,