“That’s right; Riley told us,” Avery said to Boone. “Not you—you didn’t have the balls to do it. And you—” Avery turned on Clay. “You’ve had the gall to pretend you like Nora? Like hell! You want to use her to spawn your demon seed. And you—” She pointed an accusing finger at Jericho. “You thought you could sweet-talk Savannah all the way to the altar? Hanging’s too good for you!”
Jericho froze like a deer caught in headlights. Clay opened his mouth to protest.
“But mostly it’s you.” Avery turned back to Boone. “You just… suck! I hope Riley finds a better man to marry. Someone like…” She scanned the crowd, caught sight of Walker for the first time and locked her green-eyed gaze with his.
A zing of electricity traced through his veins, bringing Walker on high alert in a way he hadn’t been since the last time he’d come under fire on a mission. It was that same slowing of time, the awareness of his heart beating hard, his breath coming fast—and as the moment stretched out, he knew he’d met someone who’d change his life.
His grandmother talked about these moments sometimes. Pay-attention moments, she called them and had drummed it into his head since he was little that the body knew things the mind couldn’t grasp, and it was his job to listen to it.
What did this reaction mean? That Avery was beautiful? Warm? Vibrant?
Everything he wasn’t?
No—it was more than that. She was important.
“Okay, folks,” Boone said placatingly, “let’s all take it easy.”
They’d gone far beyond easy. Avery’s presence here was going to make his life way too complicated, Walker realized. His throat had gone dry with the understanding that everything had changed. A moment ago, he’d been reluctantly on board with this plan, picturing himself as a bystander who’d do as much as possible to help his friends.
Now his role had changed, and he was as much in the thick of it as anyone else here.
He’d just met a woman he instinctively knew he could love. A woman he could spend eternity with.
Even if eternity was what none of them had.
He had to act fast, he decided. He needed to change the trajectory of this confrontation right now, or the surprisingly wonderful future he’d just glimpsed could speed right by him, like a comet burning past a planet, in and out of its orbit, heading out to the depths of space.
“She’s right,” he said loudly, and he could tell he’d surprised Boone almost as much as he’d surprised himself. “You have ruined things.”
“Hey!” Boone protested.
“These women had a plan; you messed it up.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It’s simple.” He faced down his friend.
He had everyone’s attention, and he’d definitely riled Boone. This was his project, after all—these were his men—
Walker raised an eyebrow, a subtle reminder that he’d always outranked Boone in the military and had the right to speak now; they all did. Boone bit back whatever he was about to say.
Walker let a moment pass, so everyone could take a breath, and by the time he continued, they were all listening intently. He ignored them, focusing on Avery as if she was the only one there.
She was the only one who mattered to him right now. She still gazed at him, transfixed, and to his surprise, Walker thought he saw interest there.
Interest in him as a man.
Heat suffused him, desire so strong he almost reached out to her then and there, but he held back.
Could a woman like her want him?
He wanted her.
Every vein thrumming with awareness, Walker took in the sweet curve of her cheek, the arch of her eyebrow and the way her body filled out her old-fashioned dress. He hadn’t known how much he’d been longing for female company. Had convinced himself he didn’t need any of that.
He was a fool.
Now he needed to make her stick around long enough to see if she could feel something for him. Had the interest he’d glimpsed been real or the fantasy of a man who’d gone too long without?
He wasn’t sure.
What should he say to her?
He thought about explaining how everything had come about. Maybe if she knew they’d accepted Fulsom’s strange terms because they couldn’t see any other way to get this project off the ground, she wouldn’t judge them so harshly.
He rejected that plan. Like Sue always said, why use ten words when one will suffice?
“Here’s the thing,” he told Avery. “Sometimes there’s compromise. Sometimes there’s sacrifice.” Would she understand what he was trying to say? He knew a lot about sacrifice and had been raised to withstand every kind of disappointment, but Avery was light and sunshine, a butterfly to his sturdy oak. He hated to ask her to give up anything.
“And you want us to sacrifice,” she said flatly.
Maybe she wasn’t as much a stranger to adversity as he’d thought. Was he losing her by being so blunt?
He didn’t want to lose her.
He nodded. “We want you to sacrifice.” Compromise wasn’t possible in this situation, not with Fulsom calling the shots. He wondered what he’d do if she refused—or if she took her friends and left. Now that he knew there was an Avery in the world, he wanted to keep her here as long as possible.
“You know how unfair that is?” Her pretty face tilted up toward him, but she didn’t back down an inch.
“I know.” It’s worth it, he wanted to add. What we could be together is worth it. He couldn’t do that, though. Not with so many people watching them.
His fingers itched to reach out and take her hand, to establish a connection and keep it. He wished he was a bolder man when it came to women, but Sue would be appalled if he behaved that way.
Avery deserved the chance to make up her mind if she wanted to be touched
