Page 52 of The Ones We Fight For

“You didn’t!” Talia’s eyes widened as Walker licked the rest off his finger, looking her dead in the eyes as he did it.

“Oh, I did.” He gave her a playful lift of one brow to taunt her. What are you going to do about it?

That question was answered swiftly when Talia dug her fingers into the side of the cake. Walker stepped back a fraction of a second too late as Talia smeared the cake on his forehead, down his nose, and over his lips. The fiery smirk on her face coupled with the graze of her fingers across his lips was almost too much.

“My cake!” Amala cried, bringing Walker back down to earth. “What is wrong with you two?”

“Daddy issues,” Walker announced.

“Mommy issues,” Talia added.

“Nice,” Walker agreed, tilting his head to the side in thought. “Sometimes I leave my cereal bowl in the sink for a day.”

“That’s horrible!” Talia covered her mouth in mock horror. “Sometimes I reenact the Risky Business dance. That’s definitely a cry for help.”

Fuck. Talia in nothing but a white button-up and socks, dancing around her house. God, I need to see that and then “help” her with the buttons.

Walker could not think of a single snarky thing to say in response. All of the blood his brain normally used to create thoughts was rushing down to forbidden areas. He was useless. He shot Roscoe a panicked expression, and like the stellar friend he was, Roscoe jumped forward and grabbed his own handful of cake. The commotion snapped Talia’s attention over in that direction, momentarily relieving Walker from nosediving further into lust.

“Don’t you dare!” Amala shouted, bolting away from her husband, but Roscoe was too fast. One strong arm wrapped around Amala’s back, and he had her firmly pinned to his chest, the cake finding its new home on her face as she squirmed to get free. Then, because Talia was also a good friend, the back of Roscoe’s head was suddenly conditioned with Betty Crocker.

All hell broke loose.

“Cake fight!” Jayla screamed. Everyone flocked to the cake like vultures, nabbing chunks of birthday surprise in their hands as they launched at each other with flailing limbs.

The next person to deem Walker a target was Carter, an evil grin perched on his lips as he lunged toward him. Maneuvering to the side, Walker avoided contact with his nephew only to run right into Talia, who flipped around and raised her caked fingers. Her eyes danced sinfully until Walker ducked, grabbing her hips with enough force to pick her up and toss her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“That’s not fair!” Talia yelped, writhing underneath his grip.

“I wasn’t aware there were rules!” Walker laughed, finding the last portion of the mangled cake and picking it up.

“You’re using my height and weight against me!”

Yep, her height and weight is definitely… against you.

“Okay, fine. Truce?” Walker suggested.

“Truce.”

As he lowered her to the ground slowly with one hand, Walker met Talia’s eyes. He held onto her a touch longer than necessary, reveling in the feeling of her body pressed up against him, his other hand stretched out to the side to avoid smearing cake on her. By the time he let go, they were locked in a heavy gaze, the moment sucking all the air out of the room.

“Tal…” Walker murmured quietly, barely loud enough to be audible over the sounds of the others shrieking around them as the food fight continued.

“Yeah?” Talia’s tone was the same, low and breathy, sending a surge of longing down to Walker’s groin. The pull. The desire. The absolute need to have her, not just in his bed, but by his side.

“I—”

Whatever Walker was going to say was cut off by the front door opening. All of the shouting came to an abrupt stop as everyone’s attention snapped to the front of the house. Colin stood in the doorway, looking so perplexed he might as well have just walked in on a possible alien abduction.

“What the hell is going on?”

A current of suspense ran through the room, everyone connected by the same thought. Walker glanced at Talia, who gave him a short nod just as he caught a glimpse of Carter and Piper having the same silent conversation. The second that Colin shut the door behind him, the room set into motion again. With a fistful of cake, Walker raced toward his only clean nephew. Carter got to Colin first. Roscoe pinned Colin to the door, one forearm braced across his chest, as they descended on him. Whatever amount of cake everyone else had been inflicted with, Colin received tenfold, every inch of his body smeared with frosting as he cursed and tried to break free.

“Why?” Colin jerked his head back and forth to avoid Piper slathering more cake on his face.

“You’re late, you're late!” Piper recited in a singsong voice.

“For a very important date!” Walker, Carter, Cooper, and Pearl all finished off Paisley’s favorite catchphrase from Alice in Wonderland, which she used to repeat endlessly to get them out the door quicker.

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