She was certainly much closer.
Shit. Maybe this good deed wouldn’t go unpunished, after all.
* * *
“SWEET MOTHER OF everything hot,” Charlie muttered under her breath as she watched Walker Pearce’s biceps flex and bunch as he maneuvered her pine table through the doorway of her apartment. He wore a beat-up gray T-shirt with a Stetson logo on it, tight jeans, ancient boots and a black cowboy hat that threw a shadow over his blue eyes. But that was fine. She didn’t need to see his smiling eyes right now. She was too busy taking in his body.
His shoulders hadn’t been that wide in high school. His arms hadn’t been so thick. And he hadn’t been quite that tall. Jesus, he must be six-four now.
All in all, he looked like a dangerous, forbidden, older-brother version of the Walker she’d once had a crush on. Every butterfly she’d ever felt for him swarmed back to life in an instant, only now their restless wings brushed more sensitive areas. There was no reason for her stomach to feel nervous. After all, that wasn’t the part of her body she wanted Walker to touch.
He set the table down close to the breakfast bar in the kitchen. “Is this good?”
“Oh, that’s definitely good.” She glanced at his left hand to be sure there was no ring. Not that she could imagine Walker married. He’d be a terrible husband. Carefree and aimless and throwing off pheromonal invitations to every ovary in town.
She was still trying to take all of him in when his chest suddenly filled her vision and he swept her up into a hug. “How the hell are you, Charlie?”
He squeezed her so tight the air rushed out of her lungs. When he set her back down, she inhaled nothing but the scent of him. Leather and hay and clean sky and something so deliciously spicy that her mouth watered.
“You look good,” he said, holding her at arm’s length and giving her a once-over. “City life has been good to you.”
She wanted to say something witty. Something sexy. But for the first time in a decade she was that high school girl again, too shy and uncertain to flirt with Walker Pearce. “Thanks.”
“What else can I do for you, darlin’? You got a bed?”
“What?” Her cheeks flamed as if her body didn’t want him to know what she’d been thinking. Stupid, brainless body. “A bed?” Yes, please, a bed!
“Surely you didn’t haul a mattress up by yourself?”
“Oh, a bed!” She laughed nervously while her brain screamed for this retro Charlie to get her shit together. You are not a sixteen-year-old virgin. You are an experienced woman who likes sex. Lots of sex.
Retro Charlie won out with a tiny giggle. “Thanks, Walker. It’s down in the rental truck. I’ll help.”
“Nah, you stay here and start unpacking those boxes. I’ll have your bed set up in no time.”
This was her chance. Crack a joke about hanging around after to test it out. Not that she’d jump into bed with him within minutes of their reunion, but just to let him know it might be a possibility. Just to plant the seed. But no. In the end, she only watched his ass as he walked away. It was a good ass. Strong. Muscular.
Ah. This was just like high school. Always watching him from afar even when he was so close.
“Shit,” she muttered, kicking the box closest to her foot. When she heard the rattle of dishes, she winced and told herself to cut it out. This wasn’t high school, and she’d lived a lot since then. Walker Pearce was no longer too much man for her. And hell, if he was, that’d be her dream come true. A big ol’ cowboy to ride into the sunset. But only into the sunset. Best to keep the mornings a clean slate, especially with a roving boy like Walker.
Cheered by the thought, Charlie picked up the box she’d kicked and hauled it onto the kitchen counter. When she pried open the flaps and saw the familiar bright yellow of her dinner plates, a weight lifted from her shoulders as if a vulture had just left its vigil. She’d barely moved in and this place already felt more like home than the resort had after three weeks.
She’d been thrilled with the gorgeous studio apartment set aside for her. It wasn’t normal procedure, but Charlie hadn’t questioned her good luck. She’d just figured that being friends with Dawn, the executive manager of the resort and the wife of the owner, had come with its own perks. Dawn had explained that they wanted a permanent security presence at the resort and left it at that.
The offer had been a relief. Now Charlie realized that beautiful apartment had been nothing more than a cage.
Charlie unwrapped her yellow plates and put them precisely in the middle of the lowest shelf next to the stove. “Perfect.” When her brain reminded her she had to be back at the resort by 8:00 a.m., she frowned and dug back into the box. It was just a job.
At the sound of boots on the stairs, she looked up to see Walker heading toward her door, her bed frame under one arm and her headboard slung over his other shoulder. He eased his haul through her doo
rway, then headed for the bedroom.
Her own personal mover.
She followed him in to watch as he propped the slatted wood headboard against the wall, and then she reached to help with the first part of the frame as he fitted it to the wood. “You don’t have to do this, Walker. I can take care of the bed.”
“You’ve been living in Nevada too long if you think a nice Wyoming boy is going to let a woman haul furniture on her own.”