Page 35 of The Roper & the Author

Chapter

Eleven

Marci atelunch with Walker and Mama, talking about the hike they were to go on and how incredible Walker’s cabin and truck were and all the inspiration she was getting for stories. She didn’t share the romance inspiration that Mama’s incredible son was giving her.

Walker was quieter during lunch, but he smiled at her often. His blue eyes had looked troubled at times today. Was she bothering him with her exuberance? They’d had some perfect chances to grow closer and kiss and he hadn’t made a move. It was a bummer for certain. How could she tell him he was her ideal hero but he needed to step up and claim his heroine?

After lunch, she changed into a T-shirt, tights, and running shoes and hurried to type as much as she could about Walker, the horseback ride, the way he looked at her as if she was the only person he wanted to be with, his house, truck, his scent, and the feel of his touch.

She’d always loved her island paradise, but this mountain forest was a paradise all its own. Could she get Walker to love her, marry her, and they could split time between the two locations? She giggled and then screamed in delight. Shewas crazy. She didn’t even know if he was interested in a relationship.

“Marci?” Walker’s call came through the door.

“Coming.” She ran to the door and flung it open. Ah. Hervaquero guapo. She adored him in a cowboy hat, T-shirt, jeans, and boots, but he looked just as alluring in a T-shirt, shorts, and runners. What would he look like in church clothes? She put a hand to her heart and tried not to pass out as the image played through her mind—him in a dress shirt, tie, slacks, and church boots. He’d hold her close on his family’s pew, and neither of them would get anything out of the sermon.

His brow furrowed. “Are you all right? You look pale. Why did you scream?”

“Oh, sorry.” She put a hand to her mouth. “Happy scream. Forgive me.” If only she could share why she was so happy.

What about Abuelita? She hadn’t stressed about her grandma most of the day. Abuelita would be happy about that, but it still made Marci feel guilty.

“I’m glad you’re happy. Are you ready to hike?”

“Yes, sir.Un momento.” She ran and grabbed the running shoes she’d been using, leaving the door open. When she returned, Walker was leaning against the doorframe. He filled that doorframe like nobody’s business.

“Bendito,” she cried out, lifting her hands. “Please don’t move. I have to get this image down.” She hurried to the dresser, snatched her cell phone, and started clicking pictures of him.

Walker straightened.

“What part of don’t move did you misunderstand?” she teased.

He grinned and her heart flip flopped. She clicked more photos.

“Why are you taking pictures of me?” he asked.

“Because you’re model perfect and my inspiration for my cowboy hero,” she said back. That wasn’t even close to the truth. Walker was so much better than any model. He was real, incredible, andhercowboy hero. She shoved the phone in a side pocket of the running tights, hoping she could take photos of the hike, and more of him. “All right,vámanos.”

They walked through the hallway and down the stairs. He didn’t take her hand. Darn it. There was a backpack sitting in the entryway. He picked it up and slung it over one shoulder. “Drinks and snacks because we might wither away on an afternoon hike.” He winked at her.

“Mama has to take care of her boys.”

“And her girls.” He gave her a lingering look and heat infused her cheeks.

Could she be one of Mama’s girls? Part of this incredible family? She only knew Walker, Easton, Mama, and Papa, but they were all the best of the best. She’d shut herself off from relationships besides Abuelita and a handful of writing friends that she only saw at retreats or conferences and occasionally exchanged emails or texts with.

Was it time to jump in the deep end? Open her heart to love and relationships and the possibility of loss? Earn a spot in these incredible family photos? With Walker, it wouldn’t be a polar plunge. It would be a perfect temperature Caribbean ocean on an eighty-degree day. Unless he didn’t want her or they loved each other and she lost him to death or him dumping her.

Her author imagination was far too active for her peace of mind.

Walker opened the front door and waited for her to walk out. She walked onto the porch and saw Mama talking with a couple who stood in front of a white Chevy truck. A sheriff’s truck. Her eyes widened and she cheered. “Sheriff Clint and Lily Lillywhite!Oy!”

Everyone turned to look at her. The gorgeous woman had honey blonde hair and an exquisitely beautiful face that softened in a welcoming and curious smile. The man was John Wayne reincarnated—tall, strong, protective, a little closed off, a manly cowboy sheriff to be a poster and example for all cowboy sheriffs.

Wow. She could definitely use these two as some inspiration.

She danced down the steps. Walker kept pace with her. Mama put her hand on the sheriff’s arm and said, “Marci, this is my oldest son Clint and his fiancée Lily. But … you already knew who they were. Did you tell her they were coming to hike?” Mama looked to Walker.

“No … I …” Walker pulled his hat off and shoved his hand through his hair, his tic when he was slightly uncomfortable. What was wrong? Was she doing something wrong and making him uncomfortable?

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