Page 39 of Welker

The boss was giving Moira orders…

“Stick with Welker,” the chief told her. “Between the two of you, you should be safe until we can get to the bottom of things.”

Moira looked…agreeable, if that were possible.

“I’ll do that…” she yielded. But an impish smirk Welk had never seen before, touched her lips. Was it his imagination, or was everyone now watching her; seeing the subtle change in her attitude, like he was?

She blew his mind with her next comment.

“…even though Vestore can be a huge dick sometimes.”

And there she was. The teasing woman he’d glimpsed over the course of the day, but this time, it was nearly spontaneous, and minus any vitriol. This Moira—this bolder, sassier one—was even more captivating than the versions to which he’d initially been attracted, and he liked it so much he didn’t want her to disappear into her own head again.

In that regard…

Welker gave the listening crowd an irreverent grin. “That’s me, ladies and gentlemen,” he announced to the entire contingent. “A huge dick.” He waggled his brows.

Moira coughed, Mason snorted and turned away, and Sin threw a disgustingly damp towel at him that she’d been using to wipe her face.

“Gross, Sin,” Welker dragged the thing off his shoulder where it had landed, and tossed it back to her.

“You deserve it,” she groaned. “No bragging about size.” The forthright woman snagged the towel out of the air before it smacked her. “If I know you guys, this will turn into a cock-measuring contest, which I, for one—living in an all-female household—can’t take. My lady-parts have been parched and neglected for far too long to listen to that shit.”

The banter ramped up, as it always did when any kind of sexual innuendo was thrown out.

Welker watched Moira closely. She usually distanced herself when things got bawdy. But this time, she held her ground, and even looked like she might add something a time or two, before checking herself and remaining silent.

Still, she looked like she was enjoying the repartee.

These were all steps in the right direction, as far as Welker was concerned, and long overdue. Even if, selfishly, he couldn’t make any headway with Moira, he was elated on her behalf that maybe—now that she had proof her team would come to her rescue and bail her out of any mess—she’d drop her guardedness and start having some fun.

“You ready to roll?” Welker asked her as the joshing died down and people began to disburse.

“Yeah.”

She turned her eyes to her house, and didn’t look particularly sad as she contemplated the shell that remained. “I think…”

She shook her head, not finishing her sentence.

“What do you think, Moira?” Welker urged lightly, trying to draw out what was on her mind without spooking her.

She sighed. “Maybe, when all this is over, and it’s safe to come back here, I’ll…ask your sister for some advice on how to improve the place.”

Yes!

“I might even ask for decorating pointers from anybody who might want to give their input.”

“I’ll help,” Welker interjected, thrilled that she was thinking along the lines of not being so independent. “I know you said you’re handy, but I can help with the carpentry necessary to fix your walls, and build out a new kitchen.” Because she’d certainly need one of those. The cretins had yanked out not only her cheap cabinetry, but they’d disconnected and smashed all her low-end appliances.

It occurred to him that—considering the inexpensive choices she’d made before with her furnishings—Moira might not have the money to replace things. She’d fight him, but he’d find a way to take care of it.

As they walked to his car, Welker waited to see if she’d shoot him down on his offer, but when he received a tentative smile and a nod, he felt his shoulders relax.

Her gesture wasn’t exactly an over-the-top endorsement that he’d have carte blanche, but he’d take it.

“Alright then,” he said, opening the passenger door of his Subaru for her.

She looked at him askance, but held her tongue and got in. Welker chuckled to himself. What had it cost the normally prickly woman to accept the gentlemanly gesture without comment? He might never know.

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