Page 64 of Unbound

“I think everyone is worried I’m going to do something terrible to you.” It’s already out of my mouth before I realize how funny it sounds. “Not like kill you or anything.” I tip my head from side to side, trying to think of a way to amend my statement. “I think they’re worried I’ll hurt your feelings.”

“I don’t have feelings.” Walker’s rejection of the idea is swift.

And wrong. Walker probably has more feelings than anyone I’ve ever met. He just doesn’t carry them around. They’re hidden in boxes in his basement. Closed behind doors in his house. Tucked into shadowy corners and slid into creaky drawers.

And since I’m not going to call him the liar he is—again, feeling a little protective of Walker—I make my way to the container Mariah pointed out. “Do you know what this is?”

“Caramel cake.” He steps closer to me, bringing along the scent of fresh outside air still clinging to his skin. “She called to ask if it was okay if she brought it over.” His eyes are on my face, still carrying concern. “I didn’t think they were gonna bother you.”

“They didn’t bother me.” It’s true. As someone who has gone to great lengths for someone she loves, I understand their motivations completely. “I think they’re just still a little wary of me.”

Walker stares at me for a second longer, like he’s not sure whether or not to believe me. At some point, he must decide he doesn’t have any other option, and turns his attention to the cake. “Sit down. You probably need a little snack.”

“Technically I always need a little snack.” That’s pretty much what I existed on before coming here. I think the first full meal I’ve had in a year was the breakfast Walker made me on my first morning at his house.

The corner of his mouth lifts as he opens the container and grabs two forks from the drawer. “Good to know.”

After pouring each of us a glass of milk, he rounds the island, coming to sit next to me. Normally, he leaves a little space between us, but this time the full length of Walker’s solid thigh presses against the side of mine as he sets the container of cake between us.

“Mariah doesn’t give this cake to just anyone.” He pushes it closer to me. “So you should feel special.”

I snort, digging my fork into the layers. “I’m pretty sure she didn’t bring this over because she wanted me to feel special.”

Walker watches as I take a bite, his always serious expression even more intense than normal. “They’ll come around. They just might need a little time.”

I shrug, because I’m not sure it matters if they do or don’t. “Hopefully I’ll figure out what’s going on and they won’t have to worry about it.”

My stomach does a weird twist around the bite of cake I just swallowed. It’s odd and unpleasant. Which is super strange, because thinking about solving the mystery surrounding my father’s death usually excites me. The possibility of closure has been my only motivator for so long, and finally having it should bring me peace.

But I don’t feel peaceful right now. I feel… Unsettled. Unhappy.

And it has a lot to do with the man still studying me with a laser focus.

I love my townhome. It’s currently not at its best state thanks to a couple years of ignoring everything except figuring out what happened to my dad, but it’s still been my home for almost a decade. I’ve had plans for the improvements and DIY projects I would tackle when all this is over.

But now…

Now, the thought of going back to sleeping without Walker in the room next to mine is completely and totally unappealing. Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure he’s not going to invite me to move in with him when this is all over. In spite of the fun we had last night and this morning, Walker might not trust me any more than the rest of his family does.

Setting my fork on the counter, I take a sip of milk, trying to soothe the upset in my stomach.

“What’s wrong?” Like he does so often, Walker reads me unnervingly well.

And like I do so often, I lie to him. “Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t think this cake will ever be my favorite.”

That makes his brows lift. Then he chuckles, shaking his head. “Those are words you should probably never say when anyone else is around.”

Bradshaw Family Group Chat

Aunt DeeDee

Your Aunt Constance will be arriving tonight. I expect all of you to be well-dressed for brunch tomorrow morning.

IF YOU ARE LATE AND I HAVE TO LISTEN TO HER COMPLAIN ABOUT IT I WILL KILL YOU.

Titus

We have the plague. Sorry.