Read Online Walker Bride by Bernadette Marie - Free Book Online Page A

a business woman.
I’m a business woman. It doesn’t matter that we didn’t run in the
same crowd years ago. She’s not who she was, and neither am I.”
    He nodded. He wasn’t sure if that was a good
thing or a bad thing that Pearl might be different. The old Pearl
had an edge that guaranteed no one would mess with her. Did
business-minded Pearl, in her fancy clothes, still have that
edge?
    “Don’t you think you should discuss my
involvement with Pearl? She doesn’t know me.” He narrowed his gaze
on his sister. “Does she even know that you need more money?”
    Lydia crinkled up her nose. “She knows we
need help.”
    “If I decide to do this don’t you think you’d
better discuss it with her first?”
    That had her wincing. “I was hoping you’d
discuss it with her.”
    “Me?” His voice rose into an unfamiliar
octave. “This is your idea.”
    “And you seem to have some connection with
her.”
    His muscles tensed. “She felt me up for a
tux.”
    That sent his sister into a bout of laughter.
“And you enjoyed every moment of it so don’t play that game.” When
the humor died down, she looked him square in the eye. “Please. Go
to town. Look at the place. Drop in and talk to Pearl. Me asking
her or telling her won’t be the same. She has to know that anyone
involved has her best interest at heart. And yes, I’ll talk to her.
But you check it out first.”
    Tyson bit the side of his cheek as his head
spun. He’d never let his sister down. “You knew I’d give you the
money if you asked, didn’t you?”
    “I hoped you would.”
    “I haven’t said yes yet.”
    “Yet.”
    He let out a growl. “Where is the building
and where do I find Pearl Walker on a Sunday?”
     

Chapter Nine
     
    Music played in the kitchen as Pearl cracked
eggs into a bowl. Lazy Sunday mornings were something she lived
for.
    Her hair was piled in a mess atop her head.
She had on a pair of bunny slippers which Audrey had given her for
Christmas one year. The shorts she’d worn to bed were comfy, and so
was the thin T-shirt that clung to her body. Sundays at home there
was no need for a bra.
    The thought made her do a little dance as she
picked up the fork and beat the eggs that would eventually make a
delicious omelet.
    Coffee brewed in the pot to her right and
bacon sizzled on a pan in the oven. It had five more minutes to
cook and then she’d begin her omelet. Susan had taught her that
timing was everything when bringing a meal together. Pearl suffered
from timing in the kitchen, but she was feeling optimistic that
everything was going to turn out just right.
    She had just enough time to walk out and get
the Sunday paper off of her porch. It was only good for all the
ads, she thought. Often she gave the rest of it to her neighbor who
had a kid with a hamster.
    Pearl pulled open the door, already in a
slight bend ready to pick up the paper when she noticed a pair of
very worn boots standing on her porch.
    Slowly she lifted her eyes from the boots up
the legs and body to the face of one very surprised Tyson
Morgan.
    In his hand, he held the newspaper she’d come
to retrieve.
    It didn’t go unnoticed that he was about to
knock, but now was scanning a look over her in her short pajama
pants, braless T-shirt, and her hair piled high on her head.
    “Mornin’,” his voice croaked as he spoke.
    “Hi,” her breath caught as she replied.
    “I was just about to knock.”
    “I see that.”
    “Here’s your paper,” he said handing it to
her.
    Quickly she pulled it from his hands and held
it to her chest. Chances were he hadn’t missed the firming of her
nipples against the thin fabric when she’d seen him.
    “What are you doing here?”
    Tyson scratched the whiskers on his cheek and
then adjusted the brim of his baseball cap.
    “Right. Um…” He tucked his hands into the
front pockets of his jeans. “Lydia sent me to talk to you. It’s
business. About your business. The one you’re going into