Page 17 of Protecting Her Secrets

I guess that’s why I was drawn to Walker. He was introverted and even-tempered. He had a shit home life, so he put all his focus on me and building us our dream life. Even though Ialways knew it wouldn’t happen, it was easy to fall into the fantasy. And he might not have gotten here the way he thought, but he created the dream. Just without me.

Glancing in the mirror, I sigh. No products and no diffuser means my curls will look like a Brillo pad by the time they dry, and I look different after washing off all my makeup in the shower. I don’t know why I care. It’s not like I’m trying to impress anyone.

I drop the towel and sigh again. It’s good that the last time Walker saw me like this was at my prime. Over the years, I haven’t exercised enough and have eaten too many carbs, resulting in an extra layer of padding on my belly, hips, thighs, and ass. Gravity has even taken hold of my breasts, and while I still think I have a decent rack, they’re nothing like they used to be.

Leaning over the counter, I frown at the lines spanning my forehead and the crow’s feet around my eyes. Those definitely weren’t there when I was twenty-one. Walker’s probably glad he didn’t get stuck with a woman who never wears enough sunscreen and loves to tan too much.

I let out a sound of frustration. I’m here to get a divorce, not to try and win my man back. I need to remember that for everyone’s sake.

But as I moisturize my body with lotion that smells like pine and man, I can’t help but fantasize about us living together and getting ready in this bathroom every morning. He would strip to take a shower, pretending not to sneak a peek at me as I got dressed. Then, while I applied mascara in the mirror, he’d hug me from behind with just a towel around his waist. I’d wiggle my ass against his groin, and he’d take me right here on the bathroom counter.

I can see it all so clearly, as though it’s a premonition of things to come and not musings of a stupid woman.

“You need to knock it off. This isn’t a fairytale; it’s real life,” I say into the mirror as I put on another pair of Walker’s sweats. Even pulling the drawstring tight and rolling down the waistband twice, they’re still huge on me, but at least they won’t fall down. I don’t think so, anyway. The thought of putting dirty underwear on after taking a shower didn’t appeal, so I go without.

The T-shirt he gave me is from Bakersfield College, where he went to school. I remember how he begged me to take some classes, but Dad didn’t see the point, since I wouldn’t be working once I got married. An ol’ lady’s role is vital to the club, and with me being the princess, that’s even truer. I’ll be expected to set the tone with all the other wives and be somewhat of a leader. If shit goes down, they’ll look to me for guidance. There are other smaller responsibilities, like organizing family days and making sure the club families all have what they need, that go with my position too.

So, yeah. No college needed, even though my dream was to become an elementary school teacher and marry the mountain man downstairs waiting to have a talk neither of us wants to have.

Balling my panties in my fist, I leave the sanctuary of the bathroom and head downstairs. I tuck them into the pocket of my coat hanging by the door before searching for Walker.

“Hi,” I say awkwardly when I find him standing in front of the stove, his back to me.

He glances over his shoulder, a devastating smile on his face. “Hey. How was your bath?”

“The views were amazing, and I have feeling back in my toes, so I’d say it was a success.”

He turns back to the stove. “Hope you’re hungry. I made grilled cheese sandwiches to go with the soup.”

“That sounds good. I can’t remember the last time I had one of those.” Sprocket rushes over to greet me, and I crouch so I can give him a proper pet. I always wanted a dog, but Dad wouldn’t allow it while I was growing up, and now I live in an apartment that doesn’t allow pets.

“They’re part of my weekly rotation since I don’t like to cook all that much. But when I’m snowed in sometimes for weeks at a time, getting take-out isn’t an option.”

I sit on a stool, watching as he butters a piece of bread that looks homemade. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Why here?”

“You mean, why did I move here?”

“Yeah.”

He blows out a breath. “No real reason. I wanted to be alone, and the mountains felt like a place I could do that. When I researched mountain towns, I ran across Culver Springs. I obviously didn’t have the money to buy a place; I didn’t even have a job. But it felt right. So, I found a listing for a garage apartment and headed north.”

“I always wondered. You never even talked about moving away, so I was shocked when I ran into X, and he told me you left.”

“I’m sure he had some other choice things to say about it. I was a dick and left him with a month’s rent and no one to take over my half the lease. I’ve thought about calling to apologize, but I let too much time pass.”

“No, he didn’t say anything bad. He was worried about you and asked me if I knew where you went. I was embarrassed to have known you for so long and not have the slightest idea where you’d run to.”

He keeps his back to me, placing the buttered bread on a griddle before layering cheese on top. “Before Vegas, I had neverthought about leaving. It was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing.”

“What did you do after you got here?” I prop my chin up with my hands and hang on every word. He’ll never know how much time I’ve spent wondering where he was or what he was doing. It’s a relief to finally get answers.

“The man I rented the apartment from owned a trail guide business. He was getting up there in age and needed someone to help out with tours. I didn’t know anything about the outdoors, but he said he’d teach me. I’ve been doing that ever since.”

“It’s just so crazy to me. We were city kids and definitely didn’t spend much time in nature.”

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