Page 12 of Big Risks

"They had to be perfect circles," he mutters defensively.

"Of course," I say solemnly. "Polka dot integrity is critical."

For a moment, I think he might actually smile, but he catches himself. "We should let you get back to your color selection."

"I'm between 'Herb Garden Glow' and 'Cottage Calm,'" I say, holding up two nearly identical light sage swatches.

Walker squints at them. "They're the same."

"Blasphemy! This one has blue undertones, and this one leans more gray."

"If you say so." He shakes his head, but there's something almost like amusement in his eyes.

"Daddy, can we invite Hailey for ice cream?" Olivia asks suddenly. "You said we could get ice cream after the hardware store."

The look of panic that crosses Walker's face is priceless. "Olivia, I'm sure Ms. Hailey has plans."

"Actually, I'm completely free," I say sweetly. "And ice cream sounds perfect."

I don’t know what processes me to say it. Maybe it’s the pull to spend more time with him and see if I can actually make him smile. I get the feeling he hasn’t done that in a long time.

Walker opens his mouth, closes it, and then sighs in defeat. "Ice cream it is, then."

Olivia cheers and grabs my hand, pulling me toward the door. "They have twenty-three flavors and Daddy always gets strawberry, which is so boring, but I like to try a different one every time. Last time I had bubblegum, but it turned my tongue blue!"

As she chatters, I glance back at Walker, who's watching us with an unreadable expression. I'm not sure why I'm so determined to crack his stoic facade, but something about him intrigues me.

"Coming, Daddy?" Olivia calls impatiently.

Walker sighs and follows us out into the sunshine. "You don't have to do this," he says quietly as we walk toward the ice cream parlor, Olivia skipping ahead.

"Do what? Eat ice cream? I wouldn’t call it a hardship." I smile at him.

"Let Olivia rope you into things. She's enthusiastic about new people."

"I like her," I say honestly. "And I could use some friends in town."

"Friends," he repeats, as if testing the word.

"Yes, Walker. Friends. Those people you occasionally speak to and sometimes even smile at. I've heard rumors you're capable of it."

He gives me a sidelong glance. "Don't believe everything you hear in small towns."

"Noted." I pause, then add, "So you grow up here?"

Walker's posture stiffens immediately. "Why?"

"Just trying to get to know my newfriendbetter."

"Yes," he says, his tone making it clear the subject is closed.

Before I can press further, Olivia calls us to hurry up, and the moment passes.

The ice cream parlor is exactly what you'd expect in a small town. Checkered floors, vintage metal signs advertising sodas that haven't been manufactured in decades, and a teenage girl behind the counter who greets Olivia by name.

"The usual for you today, Mr. Ellison?" she asks, already reaching for the strawberry scoop.

"Yes, thank you, Amber," Walker says, his voice softening slightly.

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