He snorted. “Sounds like he and Ward could open the world’s worst restaurant together.”
“I heard that, asshole,” Ward said from across the room. He walked over, grabbing the cookies from Parker’s hand. “And since I was there to assist in the lovely Tamsen’s rescue, I think I’ll take these cookies and her gratitude.”
Ward took a step closer to Tamsen and bobbed his eyebrows. “Unless the lady would like to thank me personally with a romantic dinner for two?”
Parker grabbed the plate back, gently shoving his buddy away from Tamsen. Ward was a shameless flirt, but still, his flirting with Tamsen didn’t sit right.
“Cut the crap, Don Juan. Tamsen’s too good for an ass like you.”
Ward snatched two cookies and lifted one to his mouth. “Damn.” His eyes widened as he swallowed. “These are amazing, Tamsen. Forget dinner, marry me. Please.”
Tamsen laughed. “You’re a cutie, but I’m not in the market for a husband—or a date.”
Parker felt his muscles loosen as Tamsen played along and turned down Ward. Why that put him at ease, he had no idea.
Liar.
“Ward,” Díaz called from the kitchen area. “Stop harassing the poor woman and come help set up for dinner.”
Ward made a production of rolling his eyes, but he snuck another cookie with a wink and called back, “I’m coming, Díaz. Don’t get your bunk gear in a bunch.”
He walked off, leaving Parker and Tamsen in relative peace. Most of the crew was only a dozen or so feet away in the kitchen area, so while they couldn’t hear their conversation, his friends could still see them. And the nosy punks weren’t even pretending disinterest.
Tamsen, however, ignored the stares from his crew and focused on him. “Well, Ward seems to like them, but what do you think?”
He grasped a cookie between his fingers, bringing the sweet-smelling treat up to his lips. Tamsen’s teeth came out to worry her bottom lip as she watched him. What he wouldn’t give for everyone to leave so he could soothe that tiny sting with his tongue. Instead, he placed the cookie to his lips and took a bite.
Rich, chocolate buttery flavor exploded on his tongue. The morsel nearly melted in his mouth, so soft and sweet, but not overly sugary. He wanted to spend hours savoring this one bite and shove the rest of the plate in his mouth at the same time. Damn. Tamsen’s cookies were the best thing he’d ever eaten in his life.
“These are amazing.”
She smiled, the small, worried furrow between her brows disappearing. “Thank you. I’ve spent years perfecting the recipe. Chocolate chip is my dad’s favorite.”
At the mention of her father, the cookie lost some of its deliciousness. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the guy. He just didn’t trust him. Yet. He’d hold off judgment until he had the full and complete report from his PI. Then, if things were fishy, he’d do whatever he had to in order to protect his mother. The past few times, he’d gone to the scumbags, presented them with the evidence, and threatened to tell his mother if they didn’t. Except for Magnus/Mike, who was arrested when “someone” tipped off the authorities.
Parker had been the one to comfort his mother when she cried, heart broken once again. Bastards. No matter how much he liked Tamsen, he wouldn’t allow this strange pull he felt toward her to interfere with his duty as a son.
“Thanks for the cookies. You didn’t need to come all the way down here to drop them off.”
She shrugged. “It’s on my way to work, plus I realized we hadn’t set a time to get together and discuss party planning. And I thought we could set that up real quick if you had a moment.”
He nodded. Unless they got a call, he had a few minutes to chat. He still couldn’t believe he was helping plan a wedding shower for his mother. He hated fancy parties, hated planning them even more. “Still seems weird to me.”
“Yeah,” she agreed with a nod. “Uber weird to be planning your parents’ wedding shower, but I suppose if it makes them happy, that’s good right?”
“If Mom’s happy I’m happy.” He grabbed another cookie from the plate.
Tamsen pressed her hands together under her chin, staring at him with big, round eyes. “Awwww, that is the sweetest. And good to hear, too, because your mom has another request of you.”
She did? And how did Tamsen know? Were they buddies now, texting back and forth? He highly doubted it, since his mother deplored texting. She said her fingers were too big for the tiny keys, but he suspected it was because she refused to wear her reading glasses.
“My mother’s requests are usually demands in disguise, so lay it on me.”
Tamsen saw the way his mother had worked it so neither of them could say no to planning this wedding shower without looking like a selfish brat. What his mother wanted, she usually got. Most of the time she only wanted the very best for those around her. If she had any idea her son had the hots for her future husband’s daughter, she wouldn’t be pushing all this family bonding time on them.
“Your mother mentioned you play guitar and—”
“No.”
Tamsen started at the sharp abruptness of his interruption.
A small pang of regret hit his gut. He hadn’t meant to come off so rude, but that was the one thing he couldn’t give his mother. Anything else. Not music. She knew his music was something he’d shared with his dad. Something he’d given up a long time ago.
The day his father had walked out of his life, disappointment for his only son had come off him in waves, since Parker chose to stay with his mother after the divorce. As if the soul-crushing decision of picking between parents wasn’t hard enough on a fourteen-year-old kid.
No. He wouldn’t play his music ever again.
“Oh, um…”
Guilt pinching his chest, Parker pushed memories of music away and dredged up a carefree smile. “I’m off shift tomorrow. You free for dinner to discuss party planning?”
She raised an eyebrow at his emotional one-eighty.
“Um, yeah, I’m free.” She smiled. “I’m sure we can come up with a really great celebration for my dad and your mom.”
Interesting how she never called them “the parents.” She always made a distinction, clearly indicating a separation. Very interesting.
“Sounds good. Your place or mine?”
Her eyes widened, and Parker realized how that question came out. He hadn’t meant to make it sound like a proposition. Not consciously, anyway.
“Um, I thought we might meet at a bar or restaurant or something.”
“Kind of a noisy environment to plan a party in.”
“Good point.” She frowned slightly. “Well then, I guess you can come over to my place for dinner. You bring the wine.”
“Deal.”
She graced him with a dazzling smile that lit up her entire face. “See you tomorrow, Parker.”
“Tomorrow.” His stomach filled with anticipation and dread as he waved good-bye, kicking himself as he realized he’d just pushed for alone time with Tamsen mere feet from her bedroom.
What the hell had he been thinking?
Chapter Nine
Tamsen glanced at the clock on the kitchen stove. Five fifty. The exact same number it was when she checked twenty seconds ago.
The minute numbers blinked in and out for a split second, and her heart started to pound.
Five fifty-one.
Okay, this is fine. Nine minutes. I have nine minutes until Parker gets here. It’s fine. Everything is fine. Dinner is ready. I have a fresh notebook to jot down ideas for the party. Everything is ready and on track.
She didn’t know why she was so nervous—liar. But it was just dinner. A planning dinner. It’s not like they were going on a date or anything. Just two people who were starting up a friendship, planning a party for their separate parents who were getting married.
It sounded convoluted when she put it that way, but it was better than saying she was meeting with her future stepbrother. Her future super-hot stepbrother who had seen her boobs, wasn’t too jazzed about this wedding, and had some weird wall of ice go up when she mentioned music. That had been a weird moment. Parker had been so easygoing and carefree before then, but the second she mentioned he play his guitar, he’d turned to stone. She knew how touchy the subject of creativity could be, but Parker had completely shut down at her suggestion. She had to admit, it made her curious as to the reason for his apparent anger at something his mother claimed he once loved.
“Hey Tam.” Cora flounced into the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing a soda. “How’s the freak-out going?”
“I’m not freaking out.” But right now, she was very grateful her roommate was home. She wasn’t too ashamed to admit she needed the buffer of another person tonight. The thought of her and Parker spending an entire evening in her apartment alone sent wicked, naughty thoughts through her mind, and she’d never been very good at denying herself the things she wanted.
“Really?” Cora raised one dark brow. “Then why are the plates in the refrigerator?”
Crap!
Tamsen rushed over to open the fridge, and sure enough, the place settings she thought she’d put on the table were stacked all nice and neat next to the leftover cheese she’d nabbed from the art show at the gallery the other night.
“Fine,” she admitted, grabbing the plates and silverware. “I might be a tad nervous, but it’s only because I want to make sure everything goes smoothly tonight. I have to get along with Parker. For my dad’s sake.”
She didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize her father’s happiness. Goodness knew the man deserved every ounce coming his way and more.
“Uh huh.”
She shot a reproachful glance to her doubting roomie. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You implied it with your tone.”
Cora held her hands up in surrender. “I didn’t mean anything bad. I’m just wondering if you’re trying to impress Parker for your dad or for you.”
“What’s the difference?” Didn’t everyone want to make a good impression on people? Especially the people who were going to be a big part of their lives?
“If it’s for your dad, it’s because you want to welcome him into the family. If it’s for you, it’s because you want to welcome him into your panties.”
“Cora!” Heat burned her cheeks.
“Don’t try to bullshit me, Tam. This is the guy you were mooning over for days after he came to your rescue like a knight in shining firefighting gear.”
She didn’t moon. And even if she had, she was an artist. They tended toward the dramatic. All those creative juices made life more…everything.
“He’s going to be a part of my family.”
Cora shrugged. “A stepsibling you’re getting as an adult. It isn’t like you two grew up together or have any familial bonding. Do you know how close I am to my stepsiblings? I don’t even know their middle names. Couldn’t pick them out of a crowd if I tried.”
Cora’s mom was on her third marriage. Her dad, his fourth. She had a slew of new and ex stepsiblings she hardly spoke to. But Tamsen had always envied anyone with a massive familial atmosphere, even if it did get a little chaotic at times. Blended or otherwise, she imagined it would be nice to have so many people you could count on. For as long as she could remember it had just been Tamsen and her dad, with a few extended family members she saw once every few years. But now that she finally had the chance for a wider family circle, she wasn’t as thrilled. Why did it have to be Parker?
“Look,” Cora continued. “All I’m saying is if you want this guy, why not go for it?”
“Because if the relationship goes badly, it would affect my dad’s marriage.”
Cora laughed. “Who said anything about a relationship? I’m just saying you should bang the guy.”
“Please do not say anything like that in front of Parker. I’m begging you.”
Cora’s response was interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Speak of the sexy devil.” Cora gave Tamsen a knowing look and strode toward the door.
Tamsen turned back to the stove, opening the oven to check the contents. Her nerves hit the ceiling as she heard Cora’s muffled voice speaking to whoever was at the door. As if she didn’t know.
“Hello, you must be Parker. I’m Tamsen’s roommate, Cora.”
The deep, sexy voice she’d been hearing all week in her dreams replied, “Nice to meet you, Cora.”
“Oh, Tamsen,” Cora called out as she led Parker into the kitchen. “Look who it is.”
“Hi, Parker!” She winced. Did she shout that? She sounded loud, too bright. She really needed to take a chill pill. Or twenty. It was only dinner and discussion. Nothing to stress out about. “Welcome.”
“Or welcome back, I should say.” Cora tilted her head and smiled. “You were already here once, right? When you rescued Tam from the plaster disaster.”
“Cora,” her voice squeaked a warning, but her friend ignored it.
“Did you hear about the time she used adhesive spray on Styrofoam? Ate right through it. Destroyed her final project in stagecraft design. Then there was the time she mistakenly grabbed temporary tattoo paint instead of regular body paint for the life canvases class. Her poor model looked like Picasso’s Weeping Woman for two weeks. She was so pissed. Remember that, Tam?”
“Yes, I do.” But Cora wouldn’t for long because Tamsen was going to kill her. “And as much fun as this walk down memory lane of Tamsen’s finest disasters is, dinner is ready.”
Parker smiled. “Art’s all about experimentation, right? Not all experiments pan out. What did that hippy-looking painter say? The one with the big hair? There are no mistakes, just happy little accidents.”
“Bob Ross.” She nodded to Parker. “And thanks, that’s a great way to look at my…happy little accidents.”
“I didn’t know what we were having, but I brought this.” He held out a bottle of wine. “Figured red goes with almost everything.”
“Thank you.” She took the bottle, noticed the brand was one of the wines they served at the restaurant. One of the more expensive labels that also happened to be her favorite.
Cora leaned over to whisper in her ear. “Sexy, sweet, and springs for the good stuff? Makes a woman wonder if he’s as good in bed as out of it.”
Her face burned, flames of embarrassment racing up her cheeks. She shushed her roomie, praying to everything in the universe Parker hadn’t heard her friend’s inappropriate comment. The tightening in her core made her wish she hadn’t heard it, either, because now her mind was coming up with all sorts of naughty imaginings of what Parker could do in bed.
“Well, I’m out. It was nice to meet you, Parker.”
Shock had her jaw dropping as she turned to Cora. “What do you mean out? Where are you going?”
“Jared got us tickets to Comedy Works tonight. Anjelah Johnson is headlining.”
Cora and her boyfriend loved standup, but it seemed awfully convenient that her roomie suddenly had tickets to a show she was sure sold out weeks ago.
“I didn’t know you had tickets tonight.”
Cora ignored the suspicion in her tone. “His boss had a family emergency and gave them to us.” Kissing Tamsen on the cheek, she whispered, “Have fun, Tam.”
Parker waved as Cora closed the door, sealing Tamsen in the apartment with a bigger temptation than a 50 percent off sale at her favorite art supply store. He turned back to her, that devastatingly sexy smile on his face turning her stomach into a whirlwind of butterfly wings.
“Something sure smells good.”
Grateful for the distraction from her distraction,
she grabbed the baking dish from the oven.
“Have a seat. It’s all ready.”
She brought the hot dish to the table, setting it on the potholder she’d laid out earlier. Though Parker sat in the chair across from her, the round table was so small, his large presence made her feel surrounded. When she sat, she tucked her feet under her chair so she wouldn’t be tempted to tangle them up in Parker’s. Seriously, how had she never noticed how small her kitchen table was before? She swore she could feel his body heat radiating across the table, wrapping around her like a warm, sexy blanket.
Or maybe that was the casserole.
She scooped out a portion of the chicken fajita casserole for Parker and one for herself. Steam rose from the dish, lifting the scent of spice and cheese into the air. Parker slid a forkful into his mouth and groaned. She squirmed in her seat at the sensual sound.
“Tamsen, this is amazing.”
Pride had her beaming. With all her family and friends telling Parker every blight and blunder of her artistic endeavors, she was happy her cooking hadn’t caused her any embarrassment.
“Thank you. Cooking relaxes me. It’s kind of like art. There’s always a recipe to follow so I know I’m doing every step right, but also room for personal interpretation. That’s what makes it so magical.”
“Cooking or art?”
“Both.”
“I can see that.” He grabbed the serving spoon. “I’m glad your roommate left.”
Her heart rate kicked up. “Really?”
He grinned, scooping out another serving onto his plate. “Yeah, more for us. You want another?”
She shook her head. “I’m good.”
Of course he was excited about the prospect of more food and not of alone time with her. She was letting her imagination run wild—the exact thing she specifically told it not to do. Parker was here to help her plan the shower and nothing else.
You hear that, hormones? Chill. The man just wants more food.
“Do you cook?” she asked, grabbing her wineglass and taking a deep sip. Delicious. The light and somewhat spicy flavor of the wine rested on her tongue, a perfect complement to the dinner.
The Wedding Dilemma (Mile High Firefighters) Page 8