Stargazing (The Walker Family Book 2) (21 page)

A nurse tapped on her door and she saw her in the mirror.

“I like that dress, Ms. Waterbury.”

“Ms. Walker, please.”

“Right.” The nurse walked in and stood by the bed where her suitcase sat. “Are you ready to go?”

Bethany took in a deep breath and gave herself, and the nurse, a nod in the mirror.

“I actually think I am.”

The walk down the hallway was a long one. On the other side of those doors was the world she’d been locked away from for a month. It had been her choice, but the controlled atmosphere inside was easier to navigate.

“The doctor is going to sign your release forms and send you on your way,” she said opening the door to a conference room. “Just wait in here for a few moments.”

Bethany walked into the room and set her suitcase on the floor. As the nurse said, the doctor came in a few minutes later, signed the papers, and gave her final instructions.

“Above all else, you call us if you need anything. Even if it’s just a reassuring voice to get you through a meal.”

Bethany nodded.

“I think your ride is here. Let me go get them.”

Bethany tucked the papers into her purse and stood to gather her suitcase. Her father had been her only contact and he’d promised to pick her up on this, her release day.

When the door opened, she looked up and felt her mouth absolutely fall open.

Standing before her was Kent, suit coat, loose tie, and hair much too long. In his hands, he carried a huge bouquet of daisies and a gift bag dangled from his wrist.

“My sister said these would be a welcome flower. As in welcome out, welcome home, welcome…” He stopped and dropped his shoulders. “Bethany, you look amazing.”

“Why are you here? Where is my father?”

“He’s just outside. I can get him. I didn’t know if you’d want to see me or not, so…”

She didn’t let him finish his thought. She dove at him and kissed him so hard on the mouth they both fell over and into the wall. With a laugh, she pulled back, the daisy petals falling to the ground.

“Sorry.”

“Oh, God, don’t be. I guess you’re okay that I’m here?”

“I left you. I didn’t expect to see you ever again.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t going to work.” He looked around the room. “Do you think they’d let us sit for a moment?”

Bethany nodded and took the first seat to her left and he took the one next to her.

Kent set the now abused bouquet of daisies on the table and gathered the gift bag in his hands.

“I took some liberties this month with some of your work.”

“My work?”

“Yeah,” he let out a sigh. “You had written a story on my computer.”

She felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “Oh, you didn’t read that, did you? I really was just messing around.”

“I did read it. Then I read it to my sister and to my nieces.”

She winced. “They hate me. Don’t they?”

“No. They loved it. I realize you hadn’t quite finished it and I wouldn’t have imagined that what you were writing was a children’s book.”

“Fairy tales always have happily ever afters. I like those best, anyway.”

“That’s what we thought. So Sara helped make an ending to your story.”

“Your niece?”

“Yes. Two-year-olds are very prolific.” He pulled from the bag a children’s book and handed it to her. “I had my cover designer illustrate it. With today’s publishing options, I had a few made. I think it could be a bestseller. You could do book signings with me. We’d have two lines at each store.”

Bethany batted away the tears in her eyes. “You did this for me?”

“I did it for me too. I missed you too much. I had to keep busy. Had to keep you near me.”

She opened the book and looked at the drawings and her words. “I’ve never had a gift that meant so much.”

“I’ll change the cover too.”

“Why?”

“I took some liberties there.”

She realized she hadn’t looked at the cover enough, so she turned the book over and there it said
written by Bethany Black

She lifted her tear-filled eyes to him. “What does this mean?”

“I know you wanted to change your name. I think that one fits you. I’d like you to have it.”

“You want me to have your name?”

He nodded. “I want you to have it because I want you to be my wife.”

She couldn’t even see now through the tears and she was sure the little bit of mascara she’d put on was now streaked down her cheeks. But what the hell did it matter now.

Kent scooted his chair closer to her. “Your dad said he’d like Walker or Black. It didn’t matter to him. It only mattered what you thought.”

“Oh, Kent. I don’t know that you really want to…”

“I want to show you something else,” he cut off her thought.

She nodded and he pulled a piece of paper out of his jacket pocket and opened it for her to see.

Redhead, glorious redhead in a yellow flowered sundress,
was written in pen in his handwriting.

“What is this?”

“The day I saw you at the coffee shop with your brother, I wrote this note. I wanted to remember you and thought I’d never see you again.”

“You wanted to remember me?”

“I still believe in fate. Fate put me in that shop for a reason. And Lydia having me as a guest at her book club, that was fate too.”

Bethany reached for his hands and gathered them in hers. “I never believed in fate before. I think I’m beginning to.”

“Susan let me stay in her house when they moved. If you’d like me to move out, I…”

“Don’t you dare. I want you there with me,” she said inching in closer to him. “And I like the name on the book, just the way it is.”

“Bethany Black?”

“For the rest of my life.”

We hope you enjoyed the second installment of

THE WALKERS

Here is a sneak peek into the third book in the series

WALKER BRIDE

Please visit us at
www.5princebooks.com
for updated release information on this and other books in the series.

Chapter One ~ Walker Bride

Ivory satin smoothed under her fingers. Each pin held the hem of the bride’s dream dress in its mermaid style.

Pearl Walker carefully let go of the fabric and made explicit notes for the seamstress. There could be no miscommunications when it came to this dress. This dress had to be perfect, because it would belong to Pearl’s sister Bethany.

The dress which hung in its bag just beyond her, on the rack, was for her cousin’s future bride, Susan. That made two Walker brides having weddings in a span of two months. Who was next she wondered?

Her vote was on Lydia Morgan, her cousin Eric’s other cousin, and a childhood friend of hers. Well, perhaps Pearl shouldn’t consider they were friends back then. Lydia was studious and Pearl was a little bit of a wild child. Though, she thought, as she looked in the full-length mirror to her right, she certainly didn’t look like one now.

Her suit was Vera Wang and it made her look the part of a successful business woman, owning her own bridal boutique. She kept her hair pinned up, that too made her look smart, she thought. Pearls had replaced the long ago black rubber bracelets that had lined her arm. A French manicure gave her nails a clean look, not like the black paint of years ago. A tattoo on her thigh wasn’t seen, but there were traces of the bad girl that still lingering under the blonde façade of the business woman.

She heard the bell over the front door of her shop chime. Careful not to drop Bethany’s dress, she stood and walked to the front.

Standing, all six-foot-four of him, very uncomfortable with his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, was Eric’s half-brother Tyson Morgan.

“Hey, Ty. Did you come to get fitted for that tux finally?”

“Yeah. Don’t know why they want me in their wedding. Don’t they have professionals to do that?”

She smiled sweetly as she studied him. He was a country boy, that was for sure. Worn out work boots and faded jeans. His T-shirt might have seen better days and his hair peeked out around the edges of his baseball cap, which too got plenty of wear.

“They chose you to be in the wedding because you’re important to them,” she said.

“I spent most my life hating the Walker family, no offense.”

“None taken.”

“Who could have known I was related to one? Damn if that makes the least bit of sense ever, huh?”

“Come on back. Let’s get you measured.”

She walked toward her fitting area with the three-way mirror and platform. As she gathered her tape measure, she thought about that Walker-Morgan feud. It had been fueled for as long as she could remember. It was started over land rights early at the turn of last century and the battle continued until about ten months ago. It had become quite a shock to Tyson to find that the mother that abandoned him had been the same woman who married into the Walker family—Eric’s mother. She’d been a troubled soul, but forty years later her
mistakes
had brought the two families together.

Now here stood the handsome Morgan man in her bridal shop. Truly this was something Pearl had never thought would happen either.

“What size are your shoes?”

A flash of annoyance crossed over Tyson’s face. “Why?”

Pearl affixed her professional smile. “I carry a stock of dress shoes in back. If I take your measurements in the appropriate shoes, then I can assure that the tuxes will fit correctly.”

“What’s wrong with my boots?”

Keeping the smile in place, she replied, “Susan has requested that all the groomsmen wear dress shoes.”

“Well, hell, no one mentioned that.”

“Honestly, it won’t take but a moment here. What size?”

She was sure he blurted out the number thirteen. She gave him a nod and disappeared into the back to find the appropriate sized shoe.

Men were usually more uncomfortable taking off their shoes in front of her than they were to take off their clothes. She could only assume that Tyson would be the same.

He was turned away from the mirror when she returned. She handed him the box containing the shoes.

“Here you go. Try these.”

“I really think it would be fine if we…”

“Can I get you a soda or a bottle of water?” Men were also usually more comfortable with a bottle in their hands. Though she steered from keeping beer in the store, this was something she had studied.

“Uh, sure. Coke?”

“You put on the shoes. I’ll get you one.”

Again, she left him alone in the dressing area and ducked into the back room to retrieve the drink. Her refrigerator was full of sodas and water. She specifically purchased soda in bottles so that men could have that feel in their hands. If it were a woman she was trying to ease, she’d have poured the soda into a nice glass with ice.

When she figured she’d given him enough time, she walked back into the dressing area.

“Here you go,” she handed out the bottle and smiled, acknowledging the shoes which were now on his feet.

“Thanks.” He took the soda and twisted off the top. “Do you have men in here a lot?” he asked as he squirmed under her assessing look.

“Everyday. It’s a normal event here. But like I said you’ll be out in a few moments.”

She draped the tape measure around the back of her neck and retrieved her measurement notebook and a pencil.

“I’m going to start with your shoulders.”

He gave her a grunt of approval and she went to work.

Seriously, no one had ever asked him to do anything so uncomfortable in his entire life. And here he was, standing in a dress shop, in borrowed shoes, letting a Walker measure him.

In the mirror, he watched her move a step stool into place behind him and step up. She took the tape measure from around her neck, then ran it from one side of his shoulders to the other. The tingle of her fingers resonated through his shirt and down through his skin.

He bit down hard to control his body from flinching, gripping tightly to the bottle of soda in his hand.

“Now, I’ll do your arm,” her voice was soft and her breath was warm on his neck.

She held her hand at the top of his shoulder and just as she’d done across his back, she slid her hand delicately down his arm until she reached his wrist.

How quickly did she say this was going to take? Tyson was thinking he’d need a much stiffer drink than a soda when this was done.

Moving to the other arm, then his chest, it gave him the chance to catch the scent of her perfume.

Tyson clenched his toes in the borrowed shoes and closed his eyes as she reached her arms around his waist, her body brushing against his.

She took the measurement quickly and then wrote it down in the notebook she’d laid at her feet.

“Why couldn’t I just tell you my pant size and my coat size? Really you have to measure everyone?” he asked, noticing she was kneeling before him and not rising.

Every person is built differently, even if they are the same
size
,” she said using air quotes to emphasize her point.

Well, now how was he supposed to take that comment with her reaching her hands toward his crotch?

Realizing he was thinking just a bit too much about where her hands were going to travel, he stumbled back, nearly falling from the small platform she had him standing on.

“Sorry. I guess this is making me a little uncomfortable.”

She smiled sweetly up at him. He didn’t think it was possible to like a Walker, let alone find one extremely attractive, but damn if those blue eyes weren’t burning right through him.

“Two more measurements,” she promised.

Tyson clenched his fist at his side and closed his eyes as he felt her hand on the inside of his thigh.

“Okay, all done.”

He realized he held his breath too.

“Good.”

She stood and made her notes. “You can change your shoes back now.”

He gave her a nod and went to the nearest chair to sit, setting the bottle of soda on the small table between the chairs. “You really do that every day? I mean, isn’t that like feeling up men for a living?”