Page 1 of Protecting Her Secrets

Prologue

Walker

“To Bethany and Jeremy!”Skylar holds up her champagne flute. I don’t know anything about women’s fashion, but I do know what looks good, and fuck, does my woman look good. Her curls are pinned up artfully, and her navy gown leaves her shoulders bare before dipping down between her breasts. The fabric is layered until it hits her waist; then it’s smooth satin all the way to the floor. Even if she hadn’t told me she wasn’t wearing panties, I’d know—there’s no hiding anything under that fabric.

The large venue is lit only by chandeliers adorned with what looks like candles but are obviously fake. The warm glow sets off the tan Skylar has been working on all week as she and her girls lay by the pool at the resort. It also has her green eyes looking a lot less innocent and a lot sultrier.

Glasses clink, pulling me out of my trance, and I tap my own flute against those of our other friends sitting at the table. Bethany and Jeremy are the first of our high school group to get married. At barely twenty-one, our friend group hasn’t hiddentheir feelings that this wedding we’re attending is premature, but secretly, I get it. I’d marry Skylar right this second if I thought she’d say yes.

If I thought shecouldsay yes.

My woman weaves through the tables, flashing that megawatt smile she reserves just for me, and it makes me feel like a fucking king. Her loose blonde curls bounce with each step until she stops in front of me, clinking her glass with mine.

“How’d I do?” she asks.

I pull her onto my lap and wrap my arms around her. “You were amazing.”

Her nose crinkles. “Really? It wasn’t too sappy?”

“There was the perfect amount of sap.” I bury my face into her neck, inhaling her sweet scent.

She turns her head and gives me her mouth. That glossy shit she has on her lips tastes like cherries and will no doubt rub off on me, but I don’t give a shit. Any man who’d refuse a kiss from a woman like Skylar over lipstick is a damn fool. Our tongues tangle in a familiar way I’ll never tire of as overwhelming love washes over me. I tighten my hold around her, as if she’ll disappear if I don’t. I wish I could say that feeling is unsubstantiated, but it’s not.

Skylar’s torn between me and her family. Her heart belongs to me, but her loyalty belongs to them and eventually, she’ll have to make a choice. Just thinking about losing her makes my chest constrict. But I decided long ago that every second I spend with this woman is a gift, whether I get the happy ending I want or not.

“God, I love you,” she whispers against my lips, ending the kiss. Which is a good thing because any more of that and my cock would take notice.

“I love you too.”

“You’re it for me, Walker Isaac Carter.”

“That’s good because you’re stuck with me.”

“Do you think they’ll make it?” she asks about our friends. The pair have been together as long as Skylar and I have, since junior year of high school.

“Bethany and Jeremy? Sure. They have just as good of a chance as anyone, I guess.” I brush the hair off her neck and kiss a path up to her ear. “That’ll be us someday, you know?”

“Getting married?”

“Yeah, babe. Married. Two point five kids. All of it.”

Her smile is sad when she turns to look up at me. “Walker.”

“What?” I’m playing dumb—we both knowwhat. “Your dad’ll come around when he sees I’m not going anywhere.”

“It’s been six years; I think you’ve proven that.”

“But most of those years, we were just kids. Now that I’m graduating from college, I’ll have a real job, and he’ll see I can support you.”

“It’s not about that, and you know it. You think he’ll cave, but he won’t.”

“Then I’ll prospect.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

This is the same argument we’ve been having over and over again for years. Skylar’s dad is president of the Broken Rebels MC, which makes Skylar the club princess. Though I don’t understand it, she isn’t allowed to marry someone who isn’t in the club. I’d laugh at the absurdity if it wasn’t true.

That leaves us with two options: we stay together for now but know our time is short-lived, or I prospect and patch in. I refuse to not make this woman my wife someday, and she refuses to let me near the club. It’s a fucking standstill I don’t see a way out of. However, getting into an argument at the tail end of what has been the most perfect week of my life doesn’t seem smart, and since I’m a smart guy, I drop it.

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