Up at Butternut Lake: A Novel (16 page)

Walker saw Allie and Jax staring at him, and he smiled and lifted his beer bottle in a salute to them. Allie’s irritation deepened.

“Does he come to all your parties?” she asked Jax, deliberately looking away from him.

“No,” Jax said. “That’s why I was surprised he’s here. He’s never come to
any
of them before.”

“So why do you invite him?”

Jax shrugged. “It’s a business thing, I guess. He’s a good customer at the hardware store. And Jeremy likes him.”

“And you don’t?” Allie probed.

“I don’t know him very well,” Jax admitted, glancing in his direction again. “I could count on one hand the number of conversations I’ve had with him. But I think after tonight I may need the other hand.”

“Why?” Allie asked.

“Because he’s headed straight for us.”

Allie tensed involuntarily. Which was silly, she knew. He was her neighbor, after all. She’d have to get used to seeing the man, at least occasionally.

“Hi,” Walker said, coming up to them. “Nice party.”

“Glad you could make it,” Jax said, but something else had obviously caught her attention. “It looks like we’re out of ice,” she said, looking in the direction of the bar. “I’m sorry, I have to leave you two.”

“That’s okay,” Allie said, without much conviction.

“Can I help?” Walker asked.

Jax shook her head. “No, thanks. I’ve got it.” And then she was gone.

Walker looked at Allie, an amused expression on his face.

“Do you know what my first thought was when I saw you here tonight?” he asked.

“No,” she said, honestly, surprised at his directness. It wasn’t the polite banter she’d expected. But then again, he didn’t really strike her as a man who had the patience, or the knack, for polite banter.

“My first thought was that you looked like someone waiting in line at the DMV. You know, like someone who’s absolutely dreading everything about the experience they’re about to have.”

Allie didn’t bother to argue the point. “Is it that obvious?” she asked, sipping her Coke.

He nodded. “Uh-huh. But I wouldn’t worry about other people noticing. The only reason I noticed is that you reminded me of myself at an event like this. I tend to think of them as necessary evils. Like dental appointments. You don’t want to go, but you go anyway.”

“Do you, though? Because I heard you don’t go to any of these things. That you’re something of a recluse, actually.”

“A recluse?” he repeated, a corner of his mouth lifting in an almost smile. “That makes me sound a lot more interesting than I am. The truth is actually pretty boring. I just work a lot.”

“What is it, exactly, you do at the boatyard?” Allie asked now.

He shrugged. “We build boats, repair boats, store boats, buy and sell boats. Right now, actually, we’re restoring a very special boat. A canoe, actually. Vintage. Interestingly enough, I found it at the bottom of the lake. But I think if we replace the rotted-out bottom, it might actually be worth something. They literally don’t make them like that anymore.”

Allie felt her cheeks flush in recognition. “You’re restoring my canoe?”

He nodded.

“Why?”

“Why not?” he shrugged. “I couldn’t resist at least taking a look at it. And once I got it out of the water, I realized how beautifully made it was.”

“But it doesn’t even float anymore,” she protested.

“Well, I love a challenge. And when it comes to restoring a boat, the bigger the challenge, the more fun it is.”

“It doesn’t sound fun.” Allie frowned. “It sounds expensive.”

“Well, it’s fun for
me,
” Walker said, smiling. “Probably not for most people. And don’t worry about the expense. I’m not charging you anything for it. I have everything I need at the boatyard. Or I can get it from our suppliers wholesale.”

But Allie shook her head. She didn’t like the sound of this. She didn’t want to be beholden to Walker Ford. Not for any reason. They were neighbors. She couldn’t change that. But they weren’t going to be friends. Not when he made her feel like this every time she saw him. Ill at ease. Tense. And defensive.

“You know what?” she said, suddenly. “Why don’t you keep it when you’re done restoring it? It’s the least I can do, since you went to the trouble of hauling it out of the lake. Besides, I promised Wyatt we’d get something with a motor. Even at five, he’s old enough to not be impressed by any boat you have to paddle or row.”

“Oh, well, that I
know
I can help you with,” Walker said, extracting his wallet from his pocket and taking out a business card. He handed it to Allie and she took it reluctantly. “Cliff Donahue,” he explained, as she examined it. “He’s the general manager at the boatyard. Come see him, anytime. He can get you a good deal on a new or used boat.”

Allie examined the card, then looked back up at Walker and saw him,
really
saw him, for the first time that night. Maybe the first time ever.
The man was ridiculously good-looking,
she thought. And the little extra effort he’d made tonight with his appearance had paid off in spades. His short, dark hair was combed neatly down, and his suntanned jawline looked freshly shaved. Not only that, but he was wearing a blue button-down shirt that brought out the intense blueness of his eyes. She wondered, vaguely, if he’d chosen the shirt for that reason, but decided he hadn’t. He didn’t look like a man who spent a lot of time looking in the mirror. Or fretting about what to wear.

As Allie was looking at him, it got suddenly darker outside, the way it sometimes did on summer evenings. She took a nervous sip of her Coke and met his eyes above the rim of her glass. But his eyes didn’t look back at her. Not exactly. Instead, they sort of brushed over her—
all
of her—
in a way that was both hard and soft at the same time. As if they were simultaneously holding her tightly and caressing her softly.

Allie shivered, inexplicably, in the sultry summer evening and tugged self-consciously at the neckline of her sundress. It wasn’t an especially revealing dress, but there was something about the way he was looking at her now that made her feel as if she was underdressed.
Undressed,
actually.

She held on to his look for a long moment, held on to it until something inside of her stretched tight, as if it was about to snap. When she couldn’t stand it anymore, she looked away. “I need to find Wyatt,” she murmured, almost breathless, and, without looking back, she disappeared into the crowd. She moved past people, not seeing them, and fighting a sudden light-headedness.
I need to get something to eat,
she thought, once she’d thoroughly lost herself in the crowd, and she headed for the buffet table.

Much to her relief, she didn’t see Walker again that night.

Later, on the drive home, stopped at an intersection, Allie looked at Wyatt in the rearview mirror just as the headlights from a passing car briefly illuminated him. He had a smudge of dirt on his face and a ketchup stain on his T-shirt. As she watched him, he yawned, sleepily. She turned around and smiled at him.

“Did you have fun tonight?” she asked.

He nodded and looked out the window, contentedly.
He looks different,
Allie thought, as she turned around and drove through the intersection.
He looks happy
.

CHAPTER 14

W
hen Walker opened the door to his office at the boatyard one afternoon in mid-July, he found his brother, Reid, sitting in Walker’s swivel chair, his feet propped up on Walker’s desk. As Walker came through the door, Reid smiled at him and, by way of a greeting, shot a rubber band in his direction.

“Hi, Reid,” Walker said, mildly, fending off the rubber band with a raised hand. He sat down in the office’s other chair. “Do you mind telling me what you’re doing here?”

“Is that any way to greet your older brother?” Reid asked, feigning disapproval.

“Well, you might have given me a little warning,” Walker pointed out.

“I didn’t
want
to give you any warning,” Reid said, taking his feet off Walker’s desk. “It’s much more fun to surprise you. Besides, if I’d given you warning, I wouldn’t have seen
that,
” he added, gesturing to the window of Walker’s second-story office, which offered a view of the entire boatyard.

“Seen
what
?” Walker asked, warily.

“Seen you with your new friend.”

Walker frowned. “That’s not a new friend. It’s a new neighbor. And her son. They’re here because they want to buy a boat.”

“That looked like more than a straightforward sale to me,” Reid said, amused.

Walker shrugged, feigning disinterest. “Well, I just said hello to them. Then I turned them over to Cliff.” He could have shown them the sale models himself, of course, but he hadn’t wanted to. It was important to him, for some reason, to keep his and Allie’s personal relationship—if you could even call it that—separate from their business relationship. But that hadn’t stopped him from telling Cliff to take 25 percent off the price of any boat Allie was interested in.

Reid didn’t say anything now, but he’d sensed Walker’s defensiveness. And he was enjoying it immensely.

“Look, Reid,” Walker said, with an exasperated sigh. “Don’t try to make this into more than it is, okay? It’s very simple. They want to buy a boat. I want to sell them a boat. I mean, that is what we do here, isn’t it? Sell boats?”

“It is,” Reid agreed. “But, Walk, seriously, I wouldn’t make a habit of doing business that way. The way you were looking at her, it didn’t look very professional to me.”

“How was I looking at her?” Walker asked, not really wanting to hear the answer.

Reid pretended to think about it. “Like she was a cupcake you were waiting to eat,” he said, finally. “You know, the kind with a lot of frosting on it? And those little sprinkles all over it and—”

“Okay, Reid, I get it,” Walker broke in, chagrined that his attraction to Allie had been so obvious. With any luck, though, she wasn’t as perceptive as Reid. His brother, after all, had had a thirty-five-year head start getting to know him.

“Hey, Walk, don’t worry about it,” Reid said, with a shrug. “It’s not a problem. At least not as far as I’m concerned. Unless she’s married. And then, of course, it’s a
big
problem.”

Walker shook his head, a little glumly. “No, she’s not married. But she’s not available, either.”

Reid raised his eyebrows, wordlessly asking for an explanation.

“She’s widowed,” Walker said, after a pause. “Her husband was sent to Afghanistan and . . .” His voice trailed off.

“How long ago?” Reid asked, quietly.

“How long ago was he deployed?”

Reid shook his head. “How long ago did he die?”

“A couple of years ago, I think.”

“So this isn’t brand-new?” Reid clarified. “For her and the kid?”

Walker shook his head. “No. Her son was three then. He’s five now.”

“Well, then I don’t see a problem,” Reid said. “I mean, I don’t mean to sound callous. Or disrespectful to her husband’s memory. After all, he gave the ultimate sacrifice for his country. But, Walk, his life ended. Her life’s gone on.”

“That’s just it, though,” Walker said. “I don’t think her life
has
gone on. I mean, superficially it may have. But emotionally, at least, I think she’s still kind of shut down.”
Kind of, but maybe not all the way,
Walker thought. Unless he’d imagined that moment at the third of July party. That moment when they’d looked at each other and he’d felt something pass between them. Something buzzing and sharp, like a current of electricity.

“Well, if she is shut down,” Reid said, “maybe that’s where you come in.”

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning, at the risk of sounding cliché, that you give her a reason to open up again. To start living again.”

But Walker shook his head. “I don’t think I’m that person, Reid. Let’s face it. Not with my track record.”

“Are you referring to your divorce?”

Walker’s jaw tightened. “Obviously.”

“Well, you two never should have gotten married in the first place,” Reid said, dismissively.

“But that’s not the point,” Walker objected. “Once we did get married . . .”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Walker,” Reid said, impatiently. “You’re not still blaming yourself for her losing the baby, are you?”

Walker flinched. “Reid, I’ve told you before. I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Look, I’m sorry,” Reid said, holding up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “I’m not minimizing your loss, Walker. Yours or Caitlin’s. But, Walker, you’ve got to let it go. Put it behind you. It’s been a couple of years now. That woman”—he gestured at the window—“isn’t the only one who needs to move on. You need to move on, too.”

Walker said nothing.

“Okay, fine, don’t move on,” Reid said, with a sigh. “But at least ask her out for a cup of coffee? How difficult can that be?”

Maybe too difficult for me,
Walker thought, pushing up from his chair and wandering over to the window. Allie’s car was still in the guest parking lot.