Her mother gave her a don’t-push-me smile. “He’s welcome to stay for a while. But you are to be back in this house by nine p.m.” She stomped into the kitchen, muttering something about learning lessons the hard way.
Keira waited until her mother was gone, then opened the door. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to leave you waiting in the cold.”
Walker stood on the porch, his hands shoved into the pockets of a black wool peacoat. He shot her a grin that was wicked as the devil.
“Some things are worth waiting for.”
The cold air between them vanished. Keira smiled back and stepped out onto the porch. She closed the door behind her, shutting out her mother’s disapproval and her parents’ inevitable Saturday night fight. She shut out everything except Walker.
“Good to know,” she said, arching an eyebrow. “But if I have to wait much longer for dinner, I’m going to die of hunger.”
Walker laughed, a low, black-laced chuckle that went through Keira like a hot knife. “Then let’s go.”
He put a hand on the small of her back. The tips of his fingers pressed against the curve of her spine and his touch set her skin on fire. They climbed into the car and Walker tossed her a thin silver rectangle.
“Since you’re the expert—I thought you should get to pick the music. It plugs in right there,” he said, pointing to a spot on the dashboard.
While he drove, Keira scrolled through the albums. The eighties rock bands made her want to giggle, but she resisted. There was plenty else to choose from—lots of alternative stuff that didn’t make her want to scream, but didn’t feel quite right for the night. She settled on an old Van Morrison album, clicked play, and leaned back in her seat.
Walker looked over at her. “Nice choice,” he said. “And thanks.”
“For what?” she asked.
“Not laughing at my pathetic music selections,” he said seriously.
She didn’t laugh, but she couldn’t stop the smile that slid across her face. “Hey, no one’s perfect, right?”
His gaze swept over her hair and lingered for a moment on her mouth before he turned his attention back to the road. “I’m not so sure about that,” he said quietly.
With his words still ringing in the air between them, Keira’s cell phone started to vibrate. She thought about letting it go to voice mail, but if it was Susan . . .
She slid the phone out of her pocket, glanced at the strange number, and hit ignore.
“Not important?” Walker asked.
“Nope,” she said. “I thought it might be Susan, but it wasn’t.”
“Everything okay?”
Keira cleared her throat. “I think she’s busy right now,” she said. “And I kind of told her that I wasn’t sure Smith was a good choice for a rebound guy. She doesn’t want to hear that. It’s hard. I mean, not everyone’s jumping up and down about you and me, either.”
“Ah. So your mom doesn’t like me,” Walker guessed. “She thinks I’m the Big Bad Wolf, coming to steal you away from the path of your True Calling.”
“How did you know?” she asked.
Walker shrugged. “I get that reaction a lot,” he said. He pulled into the parking lot of a tiny restaurant.
“I mean . . . it’s not exactly like that,” Keira stammered as he shut off the car and turned to face her.
He watched her fumbling for the right words, his eyes sparkling with mirth.
She covered her eyes with her hand, needing to hide before she could admit the truth. “Yeah. That’s pretty much how it is.”
His skin was warm against hers as he gently tugged her fingers away from her face. Their hands lay linked on the console between them.
“So, then, the question is . . . is it worth it? Am I worth it?” His voice was soft.
In the silence that followed, she could hear her heart thrumming double-time. The words caught in her throat, and she had to swallow before she could answer.
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I want you to be.”
His eyes widened. Narrowed. “I guess that means I haven’t totally swept you off your feet, then. I’ll have to work harder.”
Keira tightened her grip on his fingers, matched his gaze. “I’m not trying to hurt your feelings. I like you.” Saying it out loud was like taking off a pair of shoes that were too tight—she felt freer and more naked, all at once. “But I know what it means to do something that shuts other people out. I’ve dedicated my whole life to music—picked that over everything else. I don’t know if there’s room for you and the piano. I can’t say yes—not just because I want to. I do want to. But I have to be sure.”
Slowly, Walker nodded. He ran his thumb across the back of her hand. “Then I’ll have to find a way to make you sure,” he said.
“You’re not mad?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but that answer was better than a simple ‘yes’ could ever have been.” He slid his hand out of hers and opened the car door. “Now, dinner. Before you starve.”
Keira watched him slide out of the car and flip his collar up against the wind that tugged at his curls.
He turned toward the car with a smile, waiting for her in every sense of the word.
Chapter Twenty-Three