Last Night

Chapter 1, LAST NIGHT

Chapter 1

The glitter staring back at Kate from the velvet green box had her bringing her hand to her chest, doing her very best to breathe and make sense of what she was looking at.

"Aren't you going to answer me?" Walker asked. He was now seated across from her at a small window table for two at a local Italian restaurant in a part of town where she'd never been. The tablecloth was white, the dinnerware was silver, and the atmosphere was cozy. Then there was Walker, who was such a contrast to this place. As Kate took in the men seated by the door, though—their dark hair and olive skin, their suits, their concrete expressions—she realized maybe Walker did fit in, after all.

Her other hand was in her lap, pressed against her blue jeans, and she was feeling warm in her black turtleneck. Walker had just finished at the precinct and was dressed in dark dress pants and a suit jacket, the two top buttons of his white dress shirt undone. He looked dashing tonight, sexy as hell. She loved watching him. As her gaze flicked up to his deep green eyes, something in his expression had her throat closing up again. Her hand was shaking as she touched her chest once more and tucked her shoulder-length hair behind her ears. She'd recently had foils done to bring out a lighter shade, a hint of auburn.

"Kate, you're making me kind of nervous, here. I just asked you to marry me, and with you not answering, I'm starting to wonder if maybe I already have my answer." He was starting to sound defensive—no, mad, and she was still trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

She shut her eyes for a second to give herself a mental shake. "Stop," she said, holding up her hand. "I just need a second, Walker. You walk in here after telling me to meet you for dinner at this address and leaving me waiting for twenty minutes, and then you just dump this box in front of me. And, just for the record, you didn't ask me to marry you. I opened the box, and I suppose—"

He rolled his eyes as if she was creating a problem where one didn't exist. "What did you think I was giving you? It's an engagement ring, Kate. What did you think it meant?" He gestured to it as if he was the sane one and she was supposed to just read his mind.

What was he thinking? Was he serious? She actually had to place her hands on the tabletop, as she wanted to reach across and smack him. Walker was anything but easy, and at times like this he had her wanting to pull her hair out. "You need to use your words, Walker," she said as she somehow found the nerve to close the ring box and move it across the table in front of him. She set it down with a hard smack. "Ask me nicely, because I want to hear you grovel and treat me the way a woman should be treated. Ask me the way a man should when he wants to marry a woman, not just by showing up late and tossing me a ring as if this is just another task you're glad to be done with. That..." She pointed to him and the ring, which was now hidden from view. From her first glance, it had been a stunning ring.

"You want me down on my knees," he said, though he didn't appear any closer to doing just that. In fact, he was leaning back in his chair, giving her the impression that she was being ridiculous.

When the waiter appeared beside her, she smiled brightly at him, lifting her menu, which she'd studied from front to back four times, given how long she'd waited for Walker since ordering a glass of chianti to start.

"Are you ready to order?" the young Italian man asked.

"No," Walker said at the same time Kate said, "Yes."

She glanced up to the waiter, who seemed to hesitate as he slowly looked up from his notepad over to her and then Walker, maybe realizing he had walked in on something he should have backed away from.

"Why don't I give you a few more minutes?" he said, and before Kate could contradict Walker again, the waiter hurried away.

"Walker, seriously, let's order dinner. I'm starving, and I've been waiting here for you, which seems to be the story of my life." She'd lost count of the number of dinners she'd eaten alone because something had come up and Walker hadn't made it home. After the first dozen times, she'd started texting him whenever she decided to cook up something nice, which was several times a week now, since she still didn't have a job and had all this free time. She'd found that in order to save her sanity, she needed to text him a reminder that (A) dinner was ready and (B) she'd been cooking for hours for him. That seemed to be what he needed to at least come home and eat, knowing she was going to some trouble for him.

Walker crossed his arms, narrowing his gaze as if determined to wait her out. "No, I want an answer," he said. "Do you have any idea what I've put out there?" He lifted the ring box. "This rock I bought for you, Kate, my ring that I want on your finger...this is a huge step."

"And maybe one you're not ready for," she couldn't help adding, because he didn't seem to be any closer to getting on his knees and saying the words she wanted—no, needed to hear.

He seemed to be thinking, considering, maybe, as he stared at her in that dark way of his that let her know she was pushing him further than was wise. Walker was a man with many complex sides, far from easy, far from predictable—especially when he was screwing her brains out, riding her hard and fast. That was when she saw his dominant side, not that Walker wasn't a very masculine male. He was, being a cop who saw the dark side of everything. Bossiness was just another side of him, and getting Walker to see her way was akin to moving mountains, at times. So it really was no wonder that she had to fight the urge to rap her head against the table as she stared back at him this time, not willing to give an inch. As she lifted her hand to get the waiter's attention, she heard the scrape of a chair.

Walker was standing, pulling on his jacket as he walked around to her.

"What are you doing?" She was nervous now. Walker had just thrown her for a loop. She didn't know what he was doing, and that was freaking her out. She looked around to see interest from the waiter and the few tables of men turned their way.

He didn't say a word as he stood in front of her, set the ring box back on the table, and went down on one knee.

"Walker, it's okay. Get up," she said. The other men were smiling at the scene Walker was making.

"No. You want the whole shebang, and that's what you're getting. Kate, my darling, my sweetheart, I would like very much to marry you, to make you my wife, who'll torment me and test my patience..."

There were a few laughs from the other table, and she couldn't help shooting a glare their way as she lifted her chin. When she glanced over to Walker, he wasn't smiling but watching her, waiting.

"That was about the worst proposal I've ever heard," she said.

He stood up, opened the ring box again, pulled the ring out, and reached for her hand. She allowed him to slip it on her finger as she took in the six diamonds, not large and gauche but square, simple. It looked fantastic on her finger.

"Just say yes. Come on, Kate. You know you want to."

She tried to look mad. She wanted him to finish, to add in some terms of endearment, to say how much he couldn't live without her, that he'd love her forever—but as soon as the thought crossed her mind, she had to toss it away. Walker was not a man for sentiments or flowery words, and as she stared at the ring on her finger and back to the man who'd turned her life and emotions and world upside down, she knew she'd never want him to be.

So she took a deep breath and made him wait a little longer than she needed to just because she enjoyed driving him to the edge, making him a little crazy for her. When she heard him swear under his breath, she smiled and said, "I'll think about it."