Walker laughs the freest sound I’ve ever heard come from him. “It’s little Lance that you’d have to worry about. Trust me.”
I take his hand and lace our fingers together. “I told Graham I’d let him know this week.”
“Do you want to go?”
“Do you want me to go?”
He takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to keep you from doing what you want to do. I don’t want to play a part in that decision.”
“You don’t think I’m taking into consideration leaving you when I think about going to Georgia?” With a final squeeze, I withdraw my hand. “I don’t want to make things weird or put pressure on you or jump in too fast, but . . . the thought of leaving makes me really, really sad.”
“Then don’t go.” Something changes and he roughs a hand through his hair. “I don’t want you to go. Okay? I have to say it because if I don’t and you leave, I’ll never forgive myself for not telling you how I feel. But . . .”
“But what?” My forehead creases, my heart thumping in warning that this isn’t a normal “but.” “But what, Walker?”
“Nothing. I don’t want you to leave.”
Our plates are put in front of us, the scents of basil and garlic floating through the air. We pull our attention to our meals, avoiding the elephant in the room.
I’m ready to take a bite when Walker speaks.
“I want you to know that I want to be with you,” he says, his eyes shining. “Only you. No other women. I want you to come to church and Nana’s and let me take you to dinner and for you to bring me lunch at work just so I can kiss you in the middle of the day.”
“Does this mean I’m fired?” I joke through tears that start to fall down my face at his sweet words.
“This means you’re promoted,” he laughs, shrugging. “I don’t know what the fuck it means, to be honest. It’s just me telling you how I feel so you can make whatever decision you want to make off it. There are things we’ll have to figure out, but none of that matters if I let you go without you knowing. Right?”
“Right.” I get up from my seat and walk around the table and slide into the chair next to him. He folds me into his arms, pulling me to his chest, and holds me in the middle of the restaurant. The clinging of silverware and hushed conversations of the other patrons suddenly don’t exist. It’s just me and Walker. “This is my favorite place in the world.”
He holds me for a long moment, letting his sturdiness be the rock he seems to know I need. When I pull away a few moments later, he clears his throat. Something about it makes my skin prickle and I furrow my brow in anticipation of his words.
“I’m going to be leaving town for a few days coming up,” he says, wrestling with each word. “I’ll be gone a couple of days, a few at most. But I’ll be back.”
“Where are you going?” I go back to my seat, my food forgotten.
“I just have a few things to take care of that are overdue. I’ll explain when I get back. I just wanted you to know.”
“Okay.” A sense of uneasiness settles over me, but is washed away with the simple way he touches my cheek. “Can I do something now that you’ve asked me to stay and promoted me?”
“What’s that?” he smiles.
“I want to buy new towels for the shop.”
He shakes his head, picks up his fork, and goes into a long lecture about frivolous spending that’s both irritating and so freaking adorable I can’t quite handle it.
THE WEEK HAS GONE by fast, the shop bustling with work and laughs and muffins. I’ve found myself there every day. Some of those days I wasn’t supposed to be. I was supposed to be looking for a new place to rent since my lease is coming up or having lunch with Delaney. Instead, I’ve ended up at some point at the desk in Crank with a smile on my face.
The customers know me now. The old men that come in on Saturday mornings wearing their seed catalogue logo hats and cans of tobacco in their pockets bring me goodies. They entertain me with stories of Walker as a child, the “good old days” as they call them when Walker’s dad, who seems to be more like him than his brothers, ran the shop. There are stories of coal mining explosions, tales of Vietnam, arguments over who makes the best lemon pie in town and who remembers the basketball game where the Linton Wildcats came in runners-up in the state tourney even as the smallest school in the state with a team.