Irresistible

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.”

“Is that because of Elissa? I think it’s very sweet. She’s a good girl. So caring and hardworking. She needs a man, you know. Not just to take care of her, but in her bed. A woman can only go without for so long. It’s fine at my age. I don’t expect to get lucky. But Elissa is so young.”

He couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. He’d thought the comment about him looking like some damn TV character was the real low point of the day, but he’d been wrong.

“We’re here,” he said, perhaps with more relief than necessary as he pulled into the driveway of the apartment building.

Elissa rushed out and opened the passenger door. “Are you all right?” she asked Mrs. Ford, then looked at him. “Is she all right?”

He’d phoned her from the hospital to let her know what was going on. Ironic how he’d moved to this apartment in this neighborhood where he didn’t know anyone so he could live quietly and anonymously. So far that wasn’t happening.

“She’s good,” he said. “Loopy from the pain medication, but otherwise fine.”

“I have stitches,” the old woman announced. “And the doctor was very pretty, but Walker didn’t even look at her. He only has eyes for you.”

“How thrilling,” Elissa said. “Let me help you inside.”

“I’ll carry her,” Walker said. “Take her purse and open the door.”

She did as he asked. He picked up Mrs. Ford and started toward the apartment.

“At least you don’t have to lug me upstairs,” she cackled.

“That wouldn’t be a problem,” he said. He doubted she weighed eighty pounds.

Elissa hovered by the door. “I’ve already turned back her bed. She’ll need to rest. Just put her there. We can get her changed later.”

He was going to assume the “we” on the table was her and Zoe, because he had lines he wasn’t willing to cross.

Once Mrs. Ford was in bed, Elissa sat on the edge of the mattress and smoothed back her white hair. “You scared me.”

“I’m fine, dear. It was all my fault. I wasn’t paying attention.” She yawned. “Oh, goodness. It must be that pain medication. I so rarely nap.”

But her eyes were already closing.

“Want me to put on the television?” Elissa asked.

“That would be nice. Maybe QVC. There’s a jewelry showcase this week.”

Elissa found the channel, then eased out of the room.

“What happened?” she asked Walker when they were back in her kitchen. He could hear the sound of a video in the background and guessed it was on to entertain Zoe.

“She said she was watching TV and cut herself. The cut was deep so I took her in for stitches.” He pulled out the prescription bottle from his shirt pocket. “These are painkillers. She’ll need to eat when she takes them so she doesn’t get sick to her stomach. And she’ll need to make an appointment with her regular doctor to get the stitches out in about ten days. The good news is the cut is on her left hand and she’s right-handed. She’ll still be able to do things.”

Elissa leaned against the counter. “I’m grateful you were here. If you hadn’t been…”

“She would have called 911.”

“I’d like to think so, but she’s so independent.” Elissa touched his arm. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Thanking me isn’t your job.”

“Not many people would have bothered.”

“I don’t know many who would have let an old woman bleed to death.”

“You know what I mean. You’ve been great and you didn’t have to be.” She smiled. “I still think it’s a surprise you’re not married. There had to have been women.”

“Why are we talking about this?”

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to. Is it a commitment issue?”

He groaned. “Elissa, let it go. You told me you didn’t want to have sex with me and I believed you. So you should believe me. I’m very content being alone. Don’t try to save me. I’m not worth it.”

“Of course you are, but it’s interesting that you don’t believe it. Besides, no one really wants to be alone.”

“Using your argument I could say no one really wants to go without sex.”

“I’m trying to make smart choices.”

Too bad she wasn’t trying to drive him crazy because then this conversation would be a big win for her.

“So am I,” he said.

“Fine. Dinner is in two hours. I’ll be taking care of Mrs. Ford, so you’ll have to come get your meal instead of me delivering it. Want me to pound on the floor when it’s ready?” she asked with a grin.

“Sure. Or you could just call.”

“Far less interesting, but okay.”

He started to leave, then paused. “I didn’t know who else to phone,” he said. “For Mrs. Ford. Family. When she didn’t suggest anyone, I didn’t want to pry.”

“There isn’t anyone else,” Elissa said with a sigh. “She lost both her sons in the Korean War. Her only grandson died in Vietnam. All her brothers and sisters are already gone. She’s all alone in the world.”

“No. She has you and Zoe.”

“You’re right. We’re each other’s family.”

He nodded and left. But as he climbed the stairs, he wondered about Elissa’s family. She’d mentioned growing up in the area. Where were her parents, siblings, aunts and uncles? Was she as alone as Mrs. Ford or did she have people who cared about her? And if she did, why weren’t they the ones watching out for her?

ELISSA KNEW IT WAS TACKY and even borderline embarrassing. Only someone really desperate would let her five-year-old daughter manipulate the situation. But here she was, being that person.

“I put out the napkins with flowers, Mommy,” Zoe said as she stood back and admired the table. “They’re pretty.”

“I agree.”

Elissa took in the three place settings. Three because when Elissa had explained that Mrs. Ford wouldn’t be joining them that night, Zoe had said Walker could have her place. Now if he wanted to explain to Zoe why he couldn’t make it, that was fine. But Elissa was willing to bet he couldn’t.

She’d already delivered a light dinner of soup and toast to her elderly neighbor. Mrs. Ford had eaten a few bites, then gone back to sleep. Elissa made a mental note to check on her in a couple of hours. In the meantime, she had another neighbor to deal with.

There was a knock at the door. “I’ll get it,” Zoe called as she ran to the front of the house. “Hi, Walker. Mommy made spaghetti, ’cause it’s my favorite. There’s a really big salad, too. But not with onions. I don’t like onions. Are you hungry? We have brownies for dessert. I frosted them all by myself and I made a design. It’s supposed to be bows, but it kinda doesn’t look like bows. That’s why I’m telling you what it is, so you’ll know.”

They walked into the kitchen with Zoe dragging an obviously reluctant Walker behind her.

“You’ll sit here,” Zoe said, pointing to a chair. “Mrs. Ford is still sleeping, but that’s okay ’cause now we have you.”

She smiled winningly. He shot Elissa a trapped look, which she ignored.

“Did you wash your hands?” she asked her daughter. “Dinner is ready.”

“Okay.” Zoe raced toward the bathroom. “Walker, come on. You have to wash your hands.”

He chose not to follow her to the bathroom. Instead he moved close to Elissa and said in a quiet voice, “Pretty low, Towers, using your kid against me.”

She held in a smile. “‘Using’ is such a strong word. Zoe’s been curious about you. I know you’re concerned about her bonding or whatever, but she sees you practically every day. One dinner isn’t going to scar her for life. I’m trying to say thank you, here.”

“It doesn’t occur to you to thank me by adhering to my wishes?” he asked.

“Not really.”

“What if I ignored yours?”

His dark eyes claimed hers as she recalled vehemently stating she did not want to have sex with him. What if he ignored her wishes and made a pass at her?

She should be so lucky.

“I’m ready, Mommy,” Zoe said as she bounced back in the room.

The next few minutes were a scramble of getting food to the table, drinks poured and seats taken. Once everyone had been served, Zoe leaned toward Walker and smiled.

“Do you have any kids?” she asked.

“No.”

“Do you like kids? Some grown-ups don’t. Do you?”

“They’re fine.”

“Do you like The Lion King? I love Simba and Pumba the best. Mommy took to me to see the play.” Her hazel eyes widened. “It was in a theater and I’d never been to a theater before. There were people playing the animals. It wasn’t like the cartoon. It was magic and there was singing.”

Elissa stepped in to give their guest a break. “It was Zoe’s birthday present. She’d talked about wanting to see the play and when the touring company came here, it seemed like the perfect opportunity.”

“Have you seen the play?” Zoe asked.

“No,” Walker told her.

“You should go. It’s magic.”

“So you said.”

“Eat, honey,” Elissa urged, feeling a little guilty for trapping Walker into dinner.

“Okay.” Zoe took a bite of her spaghetti. She chewed, then looked at Walker again. “Do you have any pets? We want to get a dog, but we’re not home very much. Mommy says a dog needs a lot of attention. We could get a cat….” Her voice trailed off.

“We’re not really cat people,” Elissa told him. “I know their independence is supposed to be noble and all that, but if I’m buying the food, I want a little gratitude from my animals.”

“I’m scared of the claws,” Zoe whispered.

“A girl in her class got scratched up pretty badly. She’d been teasing the cat, so it was sort of her fault,” Elissa said. “But it looked awful and it had to hurt. How’s dinner?”

He paused in the act of tearing off a piece of garlic bread. “Good.”

He seemed to be inhaling his food. She wanted to tease him about going for the land speed record in eating, but knew that wasn’t fair. She’d put him in an uncomfortable situation. Not a great way to thank him, despite what she’d said earlier.

Why had she messed with the status quo? Why him? Why now?

“I’m sorry,” she said, aware of Zoe listening. “For, well, you know. I shouldn’t have done it.”

“Why did you?”

“I don’t know. I thought it would be nice. I thought we could be friends.”

Zoe stared at him. “Don’t you like Mommy?”

What had been charming a few seconds ago suddenly became uncomfortable. She regretted allowing Zoe to guilt him into staying for dinner. “Zoe, don’t ask questions like that. Walker has been very good to us and to Mrs. Ford. We’re grateful for that, but we don’t want to keep him too long.”