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“Stop!” Merry shrieked. “You’re the worst best friend ever!”
“Oh, right. Like the rest of us have never done that.”
Merry giggled and covered her mouth. “I know you have. But I’ve never been a dirty girl before.”
Grace poked her with a toe. “It’s fun, isn’t it?”
None of them needed any answer except Merry’s ridiculously wide grin.
Yeah. It was fun being a dirty girl. Charlie snugged her hip a little closer to Walker’s.
He was blushing now, too, but he maintained his stubborn posture on the couch, determined not to be ousted from the party.
“Are you
a dirty girl, Walker?” she cooed.
He shook his head. “I don’t even know how to answer that.”
They moved on to teasing Grace about how she was shacking up with her boyfriend out on an actual ranch, and the dirty talk died down into laughter about which of the women was going to get married first. But Charlie was still more than aware of Walker at her side. Eventually he dropped his hand and slipped it between them so he could rub his thumb along her thigh.
Fun girlfriends or not, Charlie suddenly wished them all gone. She wanted to be with Walker. In the biblical sense.
But just as Grace was declaring she would only be a ranch partner and never a ranch wife, Walker pushed to his feet. “Now that all the pizza’s gone, I’d better make my escape. I’ve got an early day tomorrow. And I still smell like cow.”
They all called out in dismay and tried to talk him into staying, but he waved them off with thanks for the pizza and drinks.
“Charlie,” Jenny said slyly as he made his way to the door. “Do you have something going on with Walker?”
“I wish,” she said as he opened the door and tossed her a wink.
“You two seem awfully cozy.”
Charlie laughed. “Come on. You know how it is with Walker.”
He closed the door on their laughter, while Charlie fought the urge to call him back. Please stay. Stay all night.
She wanted him like that. In her bed. Big and strong and so close she could touch him anytime she wanted. So warm that she knew he was there even in her sleep. She wanted to wake up to the feel of him behind her, already sliding into her wet body before she’d even opened her eyes.
God. She wanted that.
“That’s weird,” Grace said. “Charlie is staring at her front door like she wants to eat it up. I wonder what that’s about.”
She blushed while they all laughed, but there was really nothing to be ashamed of. Who wouldn’t want to eat Walker up? He was one big, lickable treat. She’d consider it a privilege.
* * *
WALKER WAS GETTING more sensitive with age. Or maybe he had some sort of chemical imbalance. Every time Charlie implied that he was only built for temporary fun, he bristled. Ridiculous, considering how often he’d said it himself. Oh, he’d had the occasional girlfriend here and there, but it had never lasted more than a couple of months. And that had never been a problem.
So why did Charlie’s words keep hurting his feelings?
“My feelings.” He sneered as he got out of the shower and towel-dried his hair. He felt stupid even thinking it.
He’d forgotten about his bruises, and winced when the towel caught his cheek. After wiping the steam from the mirror, he stared down at his own tired face.
God. He was getting too old for this shit. He’d been itching for a fight last night, but he’d tried to mitigate that by going to visit Roosevelt instead of heading out to a bar. He’d tried to be smart. Sure, a good bar fight was a hell of a lot of fun, but it was more geared toward younger men who never thought about expensive dental work or the danger of being arrested for drunk and disorderly.
So he’d driven out to the ranch, and everything had been good for a few minutes. Roosevelt had jumped in wild circles of excitement, and Walker’s mood had improved within seconds. Then a couple of friends had invited him to sit by the campfire for a beer. It’d been perfect. His dog at his side, a beer in hand, thousands of stars above.
