“Good for you.”

She unlocked the front door and led the way inside. As always, Mrs. Ford had left a light on in the living room. Elissa motioned for Walker to dump everything on the kitchen table and went to check on her daughter.

Zoe was sleeping soundly. Elissa kissed her cheek and stepped back into the hall. She returned to the kitchen and closed the door between her apartment and Mrs. Ford’s.

“I do individual pieces,” she said, pulling out a bracelet. “Or sets.” She opened a box that had matching earrings, a necklace and a bracelet.

“Very nice,” he said.

She laughed. “You couldn’t be less interested. Don’t worry. I’m not offended.” She crossed to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of white wine. “The good news is after I cash all the checks, I’ll have enough to pay you for the tire.”

“You don’t have to. Why don’t you keep the money and buy yourself a new rear tire for the other side?”

She appreciated his concern and the suggestion. “I’d like to do that, if you don’t mind keeping to our payment schedule.”

“You know I don’t.”

He was right. She suspected he wouldn’t care if she never paid him back.

She grabbed two wineglasses and led the way into the living room. As she set everything on the coffee table, she suddenly realized what she’d done. It was late, she’d gotten out wine and had assumed he would stay.

Oops.

“I, ah, just thought we’d talk,” she said. “I didn’t mean to imply or suggest that we’d…”

He raised his eyebrows. “We’d what?”

“Don’t be difficult. Do you want a glass of wine or not?”

“Are you going to make a pass at me?” he teased.

She groaned. “No.”

“Then I’ll stay.”

He took a seat while she poured them each a glass. She settled at the far end of the sofa and faced him.

“To a good day,” she said, holding out her drink.

“A good day.”

They each took a sip. She doubted he was used to drinking anything this cheap, but she refused to apologize for her choice. It fit her budget and it wasn’t too bad.

“You like color,” he said, glancing around at the living room.

“I do,” she said. “The landlord doesn’t care if I paint the walls or put up drapes.”

“Sure. You’re taking on all the costs and the labor. What’s not to like?”

“You should see Zoe’s room. It’s princess central. I painted a mural that looks like a castle. Everything is either lavender or pink. Very girly. You probably had an all blue room.”

“I think there were some green accents. But yeah, it was all boy.”

“Why did you go into the military?” she asked. “Lifelong dream?”

“I’d thought about it,” he told her. “I didn’t know if I wanted to go to college. My parents died when I was young, so my grandmother raised me. She’s a tough old bird.”

“Like Mrs. Ford.”

He looked at her. “Aside from being female and over seventy, they have nothing in common. Gloria is determined and manipulative. She wants everyone to do what she wants and she does what it takes to get that to happen. The harder she pushed me, the harder I pushed back. Some of it was her, some of it was me being a teenager. Finally I got so mad, I joined up the day after I graduated from high school.”

“To spite her?”

“Yeah. It was worth it, just to see the look on her face.”

She couldn’t imagine having that kind of relationship with her grandmother. Not that the woman was still alive, but she and Elissa had been close before she died.

“That doesn’t sound very familial,” she said, trying not to be judgmental.

“Gloria isn’t a family person. I try sometimes with her. I can’t figure out why she won’t bend. I’m close to my two brothers and my sister, though.”

Elissa had a feeling Walker wanted a better relationship with his grandmother. Now that he was out of the Marines and living nearby, maybe that would happen.

He looked at her. “What about you? Have you lived in Seattle all your life?”

“Except for a brief time in Los Angeles, yes.” She hesitated, then shrugged. “I was a typical middle-class kid. When I was a senior in high school, I fell for a guy in a band. Mitch. He was sexy and dangerous—at least in my seventeen-year-old eyes. When he left to go back to L.A., I went with him.”

“Zoe’s dad?” he asked.

“No. That would be too simple. Once I got to L.A., I realized Mitch wasn’t a rock star. He wasn’t very good. Or faithful. We split up. I was upset and humiliated and determined not to go crawling back home until I’d made something of myself. And I liked dealing with the music business. I ended up getting a job as a roadie of sorts. I arranged travel, food, that sort of thing. I was good at it.”

He smiled. “A rock star roadie. I would never have guessed. So what happened?”

She grimaced. “I met Neil. I’m still not sure why we hooked up. He’s seriously into the drug scene and I never was. I couldn’t see the point.” She sighed. “Don’t get me wrong. I partied plenty, but I’m a cheap date. Two margaritas and I’m on my butt. Anyway, Neil’s emotionally tortured, self-absorbed, and borderline abusive. Perfect for a displaced nineteen-year-old pretending to be an adult. I fell hard and he let me. When I found out I was pregnant with Zoe, I came home.”

The family-friendly version of the story, Elissa thought, but she didn’t know Walker well enough to tell him the truth. More to the point, there was no reason for him to know every last sordid detail of her past.

“What about you?” she asked quickly. “Any exotic ex-wives lurking in the background?”

“Never married,” he said. “I don’t do serious relationships. It was too difficult with my job. I was gone six to nine months a year, every year. I saw a lot of guys get left. I didn’t see the point.”

“And now?”

“Now I’m still not looking.”

“So we’re both determined to stay single,” she said.

“And not have sex.”

She smiled. “Is that your rule, too?”

“It is with you. I intend to respect your wishes.”

Damn. Just her luck to be attracted to the one man on the planet who planned to actually do as she requested.

Any other guy would have just gone for it. Honestly, what was he waiting for? It was late, they were alone, alcohol had been imbibed. She wouldn’t say no.

That was the killer, Elissa thought glumly. Walker tempted her in a way no man had. Ever. She shouldn’t be attracted to him, but she was. Despite her rules and the foolishness of getting involved with the guy living upstairs, if he suggested getting na**d right that second, she would have stripped in three seconds flat. The need to feel his mouth on hers, his hands on her body, was almost painful in its intensity.

“I should go,” he said as he set down his glass and stood.

Obviously not a mind reader. “Thanks for helping me with my boxes. Let me know if you change your mind about wanting any jewelry. As a gift or something. Or if you get your ear pierced.”

She followed him to the door where he paused and smiled at her.

“Do I look like the ear-piercing type?” he asked, his voice low and sexy enough to make her shiver.

“No, but I’ve been wrong before.”

“Not about that. ’Night, Elissa.”

CHAPTER FIVE

WALKER LOOKED OVER the list of Ashleys he’d made shortly after moving into the apartment. “Damn popular name,” he muttered as he looked at those yet to be crossed off. Ben had gone to four different high schools in four years. Walker had looked ahead two grades and back three to make sure he covered as many of the women as possible.

Several of them had moved out of state. He’d gone to see a couple and had been forced to speak with two by phone. Not his first choice. He had a feeling that whomever Ben had been dating already knew he’d died, but in case she didn’t, Walker wasn’t comfortable passing that information on over the phone. Plus, he had his letter to deliver.

He needed to…

He paused and listened. There was something—

“Hello? Walker?”

He stood and walked to the front of the apartment. After opening the front door, he saw Mrs. Ford standing at the foot of his stairs. She had a dish towel wrapped around her left hand and seemed a little shaky on her feet.

“Sorry to bother you,” she said. “I can’t climb that many stairs. I seem to have cut my hand. It’s silly really. The knife just slipped and—”

He ducked back inside, grabbed his first aid kit and ran downstairs.

“Let’s get you inside,” he said, ushering the old lady into her apartment and out of the sun.

“I wouldn’t normally bother you with something like this,” she said as he took her to the sink and peeled back the towel. “But the bleeding doesn’t seem to want to stop.”

She’d gone deep, slicing the top of her hand and the base of her thumb. Through the pulsing blood, he was pretty sure he saw bone, which was never a good sign.

“You’re going to need stitches,” he said flatly and reached for the first aid kit. “Let me patch you up temporarily and then we’ll drive to the hospital.”

“I’m sorry to be a bother,” she said, barely wincing as he applied a pressure bandage. “I was watching Buffy. You know, Buffy the Vampire Slayer? Anyway, it was the episode where Buffy and Angel kiss for the first time and she finds out he’s really a vampire. So of course you understand why I wasn’t really paying attention to what I was doing.”

“Right.” He guided her to a chair and urged her to sit. “I’m going to run upstairs and grab my keys. You stay here.”

He debated calling for an ambulance, but by the time they arrived, he could be at the hospital. He wasn’t sure how much blood Mrs. Ford had lost, but she was lucid and in decent health for her age. If he kept her calm and hydrated, she should be fine.

In addition to his keys, he took a bottle of water from his refrigerator, then ran back downstairs. He found Mrs. Ford waiting by the front door, her handbag over her arm.

“You don’t believe in following directions,” he said as he helped her outside and locked her door behind them.

“Directions are for sissies.” She stared at his car. “I’ve never been in one of these before.”

He looked at her short legs and sensible shoes, then opened the passenger door, scooped her up in his arms and carefully put her on the passenger seat.

She giggled. “It’s been a long time since a man did that to me. I’d quite forgotten how much I like it.”

Great.

He loosened the top on the bottle, then lowered her seat all the way back. He clicked the seat belt in place.

“Keep your arm up on the armrest,” he told her. “It needs to stay elevated. Sip the water, but only a little at a time and stop if you feel nauseated.”

“You’re very take-charge,” she told him. “Elissa needs that in her life.”

“No thanks.”

She smiled. “I’m an old woman, Walker. How exactly do you plan to stop me from matchmaking?”

Good question.

He closed her door and hurried around to his own. Minutes later, they were on the main street and heading toward the hospital.

“Do you have a cell phone?” Mrs. Walker asked.

“Sure.” He pushed the activation number on his steering wheel. “Who do you want me to call?”

He expected her to say a relative, or her doctor. Instead she said, “My reading group. They’ll be expecting me. Oh, dear. It was my turn to bring wine.”

He held in a groan, then asked for the number. “I’ll put you on speakerphone,” he said.

The sound of a phone ringing filled the vehicle.

“Very impressive,” Mrs. Ford said.

A woman answered. “Hello?”

“Phyllis?”

“Betty? Is that you? Your voice sounds strange.”

“I’m calling from a car. You’re on speakerphone. Isn’t this exciting? So high-tech.” Mrs. Ford giggled. “I’m afraid I won’t make it to book club today. I’ve cut my hand.”

“Betty, no. Are you all right?”

“Walker said I need stitches, so we’re off to the hospital.”

“Hospital?”

“I’ll be fine,” Mrs. Ford assured her.

“I hope so. Is that Walker person there with you?”

“He’s driving the car.”

“I’m here, ma’am,” Walker said, holding in a sigh.

“Are you taking good care of…Betty, did you say Walker?”

Mrs. Ford smiled. “Yes. My new upstairs neighbor.”

“The one as good-looking as Angel?”

“That’s him.”

“Just kill me now,” Walker muttered under his breath.

THREE HOURS, several stitches and some fairly strong pain medication later, Mrs. Ford was released from the emergency room. Walker drove home slowly, trying not to jar the old woman’s swollen hand. Then he wondered if he should bother. In her current condition, he doubted she would notice.

“The doctor was very nice,” she said with a sigh. “And a woman. Pretty. Did you notice?”

“Not really.”