Page 15 of Wild Hearts

I washed and cut the grape tomatoes, throwing them in the salad bowl while Walker peeled the carrots.

When I couldn't take the silence anymore, I asked, "Do you mind if I put on some music?"

"Not at all."

I chose holiday music since it was December. "Have you thought about decorating for Christmas?"

"I'm not used to having my own place. But I guess I should now that I have a kid. Dakota would probably like that."

"It might make the place feel more inviting. Your walls and shelves are bare." There were no clues as to his interests.

"What are you thinking?" Walker asked as he grabbed the shredder and scraped the carrots over the sharp edges. Fine shards of carrots fell into the bowl.

I scanned the living room. "A tree and maybe a wreath for your door. It will make it warmer and homier."

Walker dropped the nub of the carrot into the trash. "You don't think my cabin is homey?"

"Honestly?" I asked him, wondering how truthful I should be. At his nod, I continued, "You don't have any photographs on the walls. I think she'd like to get a glimpse into who you are. What you were like growing up. What traditions you held with your family for the holidays." You could tell a lot about a person from their decor, and Walker's was sayingbachelor.

"That's not a bad idea."

"The cabin is gorgeous but kind of looks like a rental."

He shot me a hopeful gaze. "Maybe you could help me with the holiday decorating."

I shook my head, not sure if it was a good idea to spend more time with him alone. "I'm not an interior designer or anything."

"But you noticed that the space was lacking. Don't you want Dakota to feel comfortable here?" Walker persisted.

"Well, of course but—" Didn't he have any feelings about spending time with me? Maybe he didn't. After all, he'd been the one to break things off back then. Maybe he wasn't as into me as I thought.

"I could really use your help."

I could never say no to Walker. When I met him, he was grieving the loss of his parents but hiding it under a hard shell. Getting him to open up was the best feeling in the world. It was the reason why I'd wanted to go into social work. "Fine."

Walker grinned, and I shook my head. He turned his attention to flipping the patties on the stove when Dakota jogged down the wooden stairs. When she reached the bottom, she pulled her headphones off her ears. "I'm starving."

"Almost ready. Why don't you wash your hands before we eat?"

Surprisingly, Dakota went to the bathroom without complaint. I bet it was her grandparents' influence. When she returned, Walker asked her, "Do you think we should go shopping for some items for the house? Holiday decorations?"

Dakota gazed thoughtfully at the space. "It could use something."

"I was hoping you'd want to go shopping with me, maybe even pick out a tree."

My heart squeezed at the open vulnerability in Walker's tone.

"You mean, at a lot or something?" Dakota asked as she leaned against the island.

"I thought we could cut one down. There's a Christmas tree farm close by."

Dakota raised a brow. "I've never done that."

"There's a first time for everything," Walker said, and I wondered if he was cataloging all his firsts with Dakota.

He plated the meat patties, then toasted the buns. I pulled mustard and ketchup from the fridge, and we assembled our sandwiches.

We sat at the wood table in the dining room with views of the snow-topped trees. Living here would be like being on a permanent vacation. "Are you planning to live here permanently?"