“The Walkers?” My throat went dry and my heart started to pound inside of me. “Tonight?”
“MmmHmm,” mom said, pulling something from the oven. “I ran into Evan, mentioned you were coming home. He seemed excited about it, so it only felt right.”
“Who's coming exactly?”
“Oh, I don't know – I imagine all of them. The whole brood,” she said. “But I only spoke to Evan and he said he'd be here and would tell the others. I can't see them all not wanting to come by to welcome you home.”
I swallowed, hard. The Walker brothers used to be my best friends. I wanted to see them, sure, but it all felt so sudden. Mom poked her head out from the kitchen, a concerned look on her face.
“Is that alright?” she asked, a note of concern in her voice. “I probably should have asked first, but –”
“Yeah. It's fine. Really,” I lied. I feigned a smile as I headed toward the stairs with my son's hand in mine. “I just wasn't expecting it, that's all. I need to freshen up a bit before they get here. I look like a mess.”
“Of course, dear,” she said, waving me on. “Put on something nice.”
. I knew what my mom was doing. She was trying to push me into looking for a new love interest. And who made more sense than one of the Walker boys? None of the guys would be a bad option. They were all good men, raised by a good family. No one really had anything bad to say about them, which was why I adored them too. They had been the best friends a girl could have ever asked for.
At least, until I married Chris, the only other non-Walker in the circle.
***
I didn't have much time to get ready. Fifteen minutes, mom had said. No time for a shower, even though I felt like I really needed one. My strawberry blonde hair was still straight and smooth, which meant I didn't have to do much with it. A few months back, I'd cut all my long hair off on a whim, mainly so I had less hair to deal with. My hair was usually thick and wavy, which often meant it took way too much effort to dry and style it all the time. I'd opted to go with a chic bob, and that had done the trick.
But, I realized I'd missed my longer, feminine hair, and was currently in the process of growing it out. It fell just to my shoulders and curled under my chin. My bangs were long and side-swept, thinning out my round face a bit. I studied my curves in the mirror. Since having a child, I'd lost my
waifish figure, and instead had hips and breasts I never had before. It was nice, I couldn't complain, even if my tummy was a little rounder than I'd care for it to be. I couldn't deny that the new curves made me feel sexy.
I checked myself in the mirror and didn't apply much makeup. My bright, blue eyes popped with mascara, and my lips looked pouty and soft with just a hint of wine-colored lipstick. That's all I had time for, and thankfully, was really all I needed.
I'd packed a few nice dresses on top of everything else in my suitcase. I pulled out a simple emerald green wrap dress, which hugged my waist in and gave me the perfect hourglass figure, while showcasing a hint of cleavage. It was tasteful and yet still sexy. I slipped on a pair of black heels and I was ready to go.
Grayson sat on my bed, playing with his Hot Wheels cars. He couldn't care less what mommy wore to dinner or how I looked. I smiled as he ran the cars up and down the striped comforter, pretending the stripes were roads that only he could see. I'd dressed him in khaki pants and a toddler-sized navy blue polo shirt. I gave him a once over, just to make sure he was presentable. He fussed a bit as I smoothed down his hair, making me laugh.
“Dinner time, little man,” I said, reaching my hand out for him. We'd just reached the landing when I heard voices echoing through the house; familiar voices I hadn't heard in years. My heart beating like I'd just run a marathon, I froze at the bottom of the stairs and took a deep breath, taking a minute to gather myself.
This was it.
I turned the corner and headed toward the dining room, which was adjacent to the kitchen. From the living room, I could see our giant dining room table with six people already sitting around it. Most of them men. Most of them with the same chestnut brown hair they had when we were kids. As I walked into the room, my mom stood from the table, a smile on her face as she rushed toward me.
“Hadley, there you are,” she said.
At the mention of my name, everyone turned toward me. I was keenly aware of all the eyes on me and immediately felt the heat rushing into my cheeks. The weight of their gazes pressed down on me and I had to fight the urge to turn and run.
Jared, the youngest of the Walker boys, was the first to catch my eye. He was the one I'd spent the least amount of time with, simply because he'd been younger and was the wilder one of the brothers. He was always known for finding a good time. His hair was shaggy and his face was scruffy. His arms were corded with muscle and colored with tattoos that started beneath the hem of his snug shirt.
He wore incredibly tight, dark jeans and a black shirt that hugged every taut, corded muscle that defined his chest and abs. He'd filled out a lot over the years, really grew up, and yes, I couldn't stop myself from staring.
Next to him was Evan, the middle child. Evan's hazel eyes met mine and he smiled, gently. He was the quiet one. The loner. Evan had preferred reading and studying over partying. I remember that there were many nights we'd stayed up way too late talking philosophy or the universe.
These days, he was in software development, not that I was surprised. His hair was short, but messy, as if he simply forgot to run a comb through it before he left the house. A light blue sweater and dress slacks complemented his look along with a pair of dark framed glasses that gave him a Clark Kent quality.
Finally, Gabriel, turned to me. He was the only one not smiling. We hadn't exactly been on good terms for a while – not since I married his best friend, actually. He'd taken it the hardest of all of the brothers, cutting both of us out of his life. Damn, he looked good though. Sleek, nicely styled hair, a suit that was tailored to fit his well-developed body. He'd graduated Harvard, owned his own business and was doing well for himself. Very well for himself, in fact. Not that any of the Walkers were hurting for money, but Gabe was a self-made millionaire several times over.
He was the tallest of the brothers, and also the oldest, with a chiseled face that was so perfect, it hurt. His face was sculpted with sharp edges and lines that reminded me of a Greek statue and his body was even more defined than it had been years ago.
Their parents stood up behind them, the smiles wide on their pleasant faces. Richard and Portia Walker were wonderful people whom I always considered family as well. It had been too long since I'd seen either of them too, and they smiled warmly back at me. Richard was looking a little rough around the edges these days, but Portia – as always – was the epitome of style and grace. Her hair was silver, but she managed to make it look like a choice rather than a sign of age, perfectly coiffed and cut for her face shape. Her large, blue eyes were a stark contrast to that of her boys – all of whom had brown to hazel eyes themselves, thanks to their father.
It felt overwhelming to have everyone staring at me, and I couldn't think of anything to say. My heart was staggering around in my chest drunkenly and my throat was suddenly as dry as the Sahara. They all seemed to be waiting on me to say something.