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I tug open the front door, looking over my shoulder to make sure Larkin is putting her dolls away so she can put on her jacket. "I need just a minute. I—"
My words stop when I see Walker's smiling face rather than Kristina's.
I look around him when a horn blows, seeing the woman in question give me a little wave before backing out of the parking spot she was in.
I know there's something wrong with my personality when my anger flares at the sight of him standing there and her driving away. He's making decisions for me, and I don't like it.
"Walker," I growl.
"You're so hot when you're mad."
"So you do it on purpose?" I snap, taking a step back to help Larkin with her jacket. "Just to piss me off?"
"Walkey! Tree!"
"I see, sweetheart. Do you like it?"
"Pwetty!" she says, brushing hair off her face after I slip the jacket into place.
"I'd rather you smile at me, but the anger has its place too. Is there anything I can help you with this morning?"
I swallow down a plethora of emotions when he runs his hand down my arm, giving my fingers a light squeeze before breaking contact.
"You should've called and told me you were coming. I wouldn't have had Kristina waste her time."
"My apologies," he says in a distinguished way that makes my lip twitch with a threatening smile.
"Maybe I didn't want you to take me to work. Maybe I—"
My mouth snaps shut when he dangles my car key in my face.
I’m both ecstatic to see it and a little worried about the expense of what it cost to fix.
“How much do I owe Boone?”
He’s silent for a long moment, making me believe that he’s going to refuse to tell me.
“Fifty bucks, but if you ask me, he overcharged."
I narrow my eyes at him.
"Fifty?"
"Yep. I covered it, but you can pay me back whenever you want to."
This surprises me as well. If it weren't for the look in his eyes as they travel down my body, I'd wonder if yesterday was the last straw for him. It seems Walker Conroy is also picking his battles.
"Thank you," I tell him, reaching up to grab the key from his hand.
He doesn't immediately release the thing, prolonging our touch, and it tells me without words that he hasn't given up on me yet. Knowing this makes me want to cry, but I fight that urge and turn back to gather my belongings.
"I'll be right back," I say when he pulls back, my emotions once again all over the place.
"Walkey, look!" Larkin says, grabbing his hand and dragging him toward the tree.
I go to my bedroom and grab my jacket, stopping to watch them interact in the living room.
He doesn't change the way he treats her just because I leave the room. He smiles and talks to her, their conversation not making much sense because it's clear he doesn't speak toddler. Larkin is happy to have his attention so she doesn't get frustrated if he says something that doesn't make sense when she asks a question.
