Gently, Walker cups my chin and pulls my focus back to him. “It’s okay to miss him, Tally. It’s okay to say you want me to do this grand marshal thing because your dad did. Or fuck, I don’t know, it’s okay to feel something for me.”
His brown eyes dare me to disagree with his words.
“Walker,” I start. “We promised we weren’t going to do this. We said no getting attached, remember? My inability to stand up for myself isn’t your problem. I’m not your responsibility; I’m just someone you fuck.”
“No.” He spits out the word.
“You’re not going to bully me into telling you I’m falling for you.”
He doesn’t react, so I push on.
“You’re not going to bully me into admitting that seeing you doing all the things my dad used to do makes it impossible to separate the two of you. That I find comfort in sitting in the kitchen with you at night and talking to you about absolutely nothing because that’s what we used to do.” Once I start talking, spewing my every thought over the last few weeks, I can’t stop. “Or how seeing that damn chair—his chair—pushed back from the table makes me think maybe he’s just in the other room, but then my chest hurts so much it becomes hard tobreathewhen I remember that he’ll neversit there again. Or how I’m so damn guilty that I missed last year’s festival. And the parade, and every other little tradition this town has that my parents love so much. How I missed out on all of the days leading up to his last one and I don’t know how to move past that. How he hired you since I wouldn’t come back.You’re here because I wouldn’t come back. You’re here becausehe’s not.”
I push against Walker’s chest, but he doesn’t flinch. He takes the hits as I pound against him until I’m pulling on his shirt and forcing him to hold me. I rest my head against his chest, somehow managing to speak through heavy sobs.
“And then I feel evenmoreguilty because I’m glad you’re here. Because I like you and I feel like I’m betraying him.”
Walker’s arms squeeze me tight, and he presses a gentle kiss to my forehead. “Get it out, Wildflower. I’m right here.”
Now, I’m crying broken, ugly tears. And still, Walker doesn’t rush me. Doesn’t try to give me false condolences. Doesn’t remind me that I’m not selfish, or tell me that I’ll do better with time. He just lets me cry until the tears run dry and my throat is sore.
My head falls back against the door, and I let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry.”
Walker’s head shakes as he cups both of my cheeks and smooths away the remnants of my tears with his thumbs. “We’re not going to do that. You’re not going to apologize for feeling.” His lips pause and he presses a kiss to one cheek. “We’re not going to pretend we don’t feel something just because you’re leaving.” He brushes his lips across my face and kisses the other cheek to swallow my tears. “This is real, Tally. I’m here. For sex, yes, but I’d also like to be your friend. The sneaking around is fun, but what I crave is these moments. Just the two of us, when you’re real with me. I want you to be real with me always. Dressed or undressed. Out in the fields or in the bedroom. While we’re sitting together or while you’re riding me. Can you do that?”
“Where did you come from?” I whisper. My sister would have dreamt up someone like him. But me? I never imagined someone could be so caring, so comforting, and so incredibly dirty at the same time. Walker is perfect, and I don’t deserve him.
He lets out a deep sigh. “Your dad found me, sought me out. Would you like to hear that story?”
I nod and he takes my hand, leading me toward the kitchen. I don’t know if he knows that’s where my dad and I always had these conversations or if he does it because it’s where we’ve had so many of them since I got here.
I settle on the stool closest to the wall and watch as he walks to the fridge. He pulls out a glass bottle of diet coke, pops the top, and adds a straw before pushing it toward me. My heart squeezes even tighter at the gesture; it’s exactly what my dad would do to calm me down.
Walker pulls out the stool next to mine and begins to speak as he sits. “I grew up a few towns over, but for as long as I remember, I’ve wanted a farm like this.” His gaze dims as though he’s gone somewhere else.
“I spent every spare minute I wasn’t in school working on farms in middle school. And then, in high school, I entered the agricultural program and spent even more time doing the things I loved. It was an escape for me.” He sucks in a breath and then lets out a long one. “My life wasn’t like yours, Tally. My mother wasn’t around, and my father didn’t like me. He died when I was eighteen, and honestly, it was the best thingto happen to me and Billie.” I wince but Walker pushes on. “He was a mean drunk, and with him gone, Billie could have a shot at life. With the little money I saved working through high school, I was able to afford an apartment and keep food on the table for her, plus go to school full-time. My sole focus was looking after the only family I had left. I wanted to be needed. To mean something to someone.” His shoulder lifts. “And I did that.”
“How?” I ask softly.
“By working hard?” He runs a hand through his hair and shrugs again. “I don’t know. I got this nickname: the soil whisperer. I guess your father heard about me. And I assume you know how he was when he got something in his head.”
I smile. “He didn’t stop until he made it happen.”
It was one of his best and worst traits. There were countless LEGO sets throughout our house because my father never saw one he didn’t think he could put together. Though they never quite looked like the image on the package.
Walker nods. “About a year ago, your dad showed up at the farm I was working at and offered to buy me lunch. I don’t trust many people so I told him I was all set, but he showed up again the next day and brought a sandwich for every guy on the farm. I couldn’t very well turn him down then, and he knew it. So we talked and he told me about this place. The problems he was having. His vision for the future. He asked me to give him an hour, to come over and see it. He said that whatever I thought, he’d take me to the brewery afterward for lunch. If it was a waste of my time, then at least I got a meal out of it, right?”
I smile, because this is exactly something my father would do.
“Now, I want you to listen to this next part, Tally, because it’s the most important.”
My slumped shoulders straighten and I nod.
“Your father never expected you to come back to this farm.”
The words aren’t a surprise, yet I’m unprepared for the ache that burrows into my chest. Walker reaches for my hand, which is braced around the bottle, and strokes it with his thumb. “He wanted to extend the season, and we agreed to do it together. We’d share in the profits.That’swhy I’m here. He knew you had other dreams, Tally, and he didn’t need you to share his. You shouldn’t feel guilty, wildflower. Your dad would be unbelievably proud of you. Hewasunbelievably proud of you.”
Tears pool in my eyes. “Really?”
