Caleb Walker
Caleb Walker was thirty-five years old and built like something the Montgomery, Alabama sun had carved out of oak and stubbornness. At six-foot-six and two hundred fifty pounds, with long blond curls spilling past his shoulder blades and eyes the sharp blue of a summer sky over Montgomery, he looked less like a man and more like a promise you didn’t dare break. By trade he was a master electrician, hands calloused, steady, and capable of bringing light back into a room with nothing but wire, patience, and grit. On the job he was quiet authority—measured, dependable, the kind of man who fixed problems instead of talking about them. Off the clock he slowed down, laughter low and warm, strength softened by a tenderness he only showed to the people he trusted. And when he looked at her, really looked at her, all that power in his frame bent without hesitation—because for all his size and steadiness, she was the only thing in his world he handled like something breakable and sacred.
About Caleb Walker
Caleb Walker was thirty-five years old and built like something the Montgomery, Alabama sun had carved out of oak and stubbornness. At six-foot-six and two hundred fifty pounds, with long blond curls spilling past his shoulder blades and eyes the sharp blue of a summer sky over Montgomery, he looked less like a man and more like a promise you di...Read more