Need You Tonight

by Marquita Valentine

His lips twist a little. “Then what’s your excuse?” Letting go of my hand, he leaves the table and heads outside.

  Chapter Eleven

  Parker

  I might have been a little too harsh with Brooklyn, but her advice struck a nerve and made me feel good all at the same time. She’s right. There’s no way around it, but I couldn’t help but think she should follow her own damn advice.

  I glance back at the house, watching her water several hanging plants on the front porch, humming to herself as she moves. She hasn’t been here very long, but already the house looks nothing like it used to… especially with the memorial to her dead husband in the living room.

  Shit. Like I have room to judge.

  I finish loading my tools and stride to her. I need to make things right. She sat there, not saying a word, not judging me with her pretty eyes, and held my fucking hand. She didn’t criticize Crystal or say I should make up with her.

  “Want to grab a bite to eat tonight? My treat.”

  An odd look crosses her face. Her cheeks pinken. “I already have plans.”

  Jealousy surges, though I have no right to feel this way, and the logical part of my brain is quietly reminding me that Brooklyn said she wasn’t ready to date, so it can’t be with another man.

  “Where you going?” I take the container from her and set it over by the front door. She moves to the front porch swing and sits down. I sit my ass right beside hers, spreading my legs purposefully wide so we’re touching. Her floral scent tickles my senses. Her thigh pressing against mine doesn’t help either. I don’t understand it, really, how much I want to touch her. How much I want her to touch me.

  Over the last couple of years, I’ve gone out of my way not to encourage any woman to touch me. If I had a need for sex, then I hooked up with a random girl and didn’t bother to stick around.

  “To The Double Deuce…with my boss, Rowan, for a girls’ night out,” she clarifies. “Have you ever been there?”

  Relief surges through me, replacing all that hot jealousy threatening to make me her bitch. “A time or two.”

  “That means you’ve been there a lot.”

  “You’re very perceptive.”

  “And you’re very obvious.”

  I lightly elbow her in the side, and she giggles. “I like to hear you laugh.”

  “I like it when you’re the cause of it.”

  Throwing my arms over the back of the swing, I turn and give her my goofiest look. “Are you trying to say I’m funny looking?”

  “Oh no,” she giggles, “You are sooo handsome.”

  I lean into her. “Don’t you know you can’t kid around about a man’s ego? They’re very fragile.”

  “But not yours.” She looks up at me, our faces inches apart. “Yours is very strong.”

  With my free hand, I cup her cheek, dusting my thumb across her bottom lip. “Do you forgive me for earlier, for being such an ass?”

  “I don’t want to be stuck in the past anymore, Parker.”

  “Maybe that’s something else I can help you with. Getting unstuck.” I lower my mouth to hers, keeping my eyes wide open to gauge her reaction. My heart’s beating like crazy in my chest. “Say you forgive me.”

  She doesn’t pull away. In fact, she shifts slightly towards me. “I used to be really good at kissing.”

  Smiling, I murmur, “I’m sure you just need some practice. Tell me your forgive me.” I need her forgiveness, and not just for that one asinine remark, but all of them. Every harsh word, every assumption… everything. “Please, Brooklyn.”

  “I forgive you.” Her eyes flutter closed, and she presses her lips lightly to mine. It’s almost innocent, until her mouth parts slightly under mine. It’s an invitation to take control, to slake this burning need I’ve had to taste her fully.

  Only, I don’t go deeper, I let her lead. I let her explore me, with butterfly kisses and a teasing tongue that has me gripping the back of the swing so hard that I’m half afraid it will splinter. Or maybe I’m the one who will splinter.

  I don’t think I’ve ever experienced anything like this. So carnal, yet so sweet. So tentative, yet so bold. The taste of her is addictive. I can’t help but want more. I can’t help but meet every sweep of her tongue, every slant of her mouth, as she bites and sucks at my lips, drawing little sharp stings of pain that she massages away with her tongue.

  Her hands touch my chest, fingers sliding over my pecs and then one nipple. I shudder and let out a groan.

  She pulls away slightly, her eyes opening. “I kissed you.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “I can’t believe I kissed you.”

  Concerned, I stroke the side of her face. “Is that a good or bad? You can tell me. My ego can take it.”

  She touches her lips, her other hand leaving my chest to rest in her lap. I want to grab her hand and put it right back where it was. “A little of both,” she whispers.

  Her admission is all it takes for me to question my decision to get so close to her. I shouldn’t have allowed this to happen. This won’t end well. It can’t. She’s not over her husband, and I’m not over what I used to do. Who I used to be.

  “I think,” I begin, and her pretty eyes get all guarded, “that we need to take a step back from this. From jumping into something that you’ll regret.”

  *

  Brooklyn

  Something I’ll regret? Or does Parker really mean he’ll regret it? Or worse, he’s trying to be really nice, because he’s not attracted to me at all and this kiss just sealed it. That time he’d cornered me in the house notwithstanding.

  All the wonderful, sexy feelings of desire and being desired that had taken hold of me while we kissed disappear, only to be replaced with a huge lump of cold regret and shame.

  My face grows hot, while my body grows even colder. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I shouldn’t have done that.” I jump to my feet. “Thanks for all your help today. I need to get ready for tonight. It’s been so long since I’ve been out that I’m not sure what to wear.”

  Parker gazes up at me, his sexy face hard to read as he grabs my wrist. “I have a pretty good idea what you’re thinking right now, but it’s not true.”

  “It’s not?”

  He shakes his head, his jaw hardening. “No. The problem is mine. Completely and entirely mine. What just happened between us was my fault, not yours. I can’t take advantage of you. It’s not what you deserve. I’m not what you deserve.”

  “Don’t you think I should be the judge of that? And for the record, you didn’t take advantage of me.”

  “Brooklyn, don’t make this into a big deal.”

  I snatch my wrist out of his grip. “I don’t understand you at all. First, you want to help me. Then you come up here, shirtless and doing that thing you do with your hands and lips… and—” Angry tears spring into my eyes. “I haven’t been kissed, haven’t been held… I haven’t been touched by anyone like that since Braden.”

  “I know—”

  “You do not know. You have no idea what it’s like to go years without being wanted. Without something as simple as a kiss or hug from the opposite sex. You have no idea how hard it was for me to push Braden out of my head to even contemplate anything so intimate. Maybe kissing, or touching, or sex isn’t a big deal to you, because you can have it any time you want, without guilt or the memory of someone you love hanging over you. But it is to me.” I take a sustaining breath and look him straight in the eye. “So excuse me for thinking what happened, no matter how simple or silly to you, is a big damn deal.”

  He stands, his face dark and angry as he points a finger at me. “You have no idea what I find simple or silly or intimate. You have no idea what I think is a big deal, because all you were doing was using me to get over your dead husband.”

  I flinch, like he’s written down his accusations in a book and hit me with it. “I did not use you,” I say hotly. Tears run down my face. “And I’ll never get over Braden. My heart
doesn’t work like that, you—you asshole.”

  Striding inside, I slam the door and lock it behind me, then lean against it. My chest feels like it’s about to burst. It’s so tight and full and heavy that I can barely stand the weight of it. My legs give out, and I sink to the floor, cradling my head in my hands.

  There’s a soft knock on the door. “Brooklyn. Let me in.”

  “I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

  “I know you don’t, and I don’t deserve to even breathe the same air as you, but I fucked up, okay? Let me fix it.”

  I don’t trust him to fix it. All he does is put me through the wringer, and I end up on the floor. “Go away, Parker.”

  I brace myself for another knock, another round of him saying all the things I want to hear, but there’s nothing but silence.

  Chapter Twelve

  Brooklyn

  As soon as I open the door to let Rowan inside, she takes one look at me and folds her arms over her chest. “Whose ass do I have to kick?”

  “No one’s.” I avoid eye contact. Despite the makeup and pretty lip gloss I have on, I’m still a blotchy mess from earlier this afternoon. “Let me grab my purse and we can go.”

  Rowan makes a little noise. “Are you sure?”

  “About grabbing my purse—yes.”

  “If you change your mind, I’m here,” she says.

  I stop in the middle of the room. “Thank you, but it’s not a big deal.” Using Parker’s words without crying all over again feels like a hoellow accomplishment.

  Turning to her, I finally check out what she’s wearing. My eyes widen at her strapless dress. It looks as though she was poured into it, but she looks amazing. While I look like someone who hasn’t been clubbing in forever. “I think I’m overdressed. Or underdressed. Either way, I’m not dressed right.” Tugging at my off-the-shoulder shirt, I look down at my jeans and high heels. “At least I didn’t wear my pearls.”

  “Oh, shut up. I was only kidding.” Rowan marches up to me and grabs my arm, pulling me outside. “You look good. I’m looking for a man.”

  “But I thought this was a girls’ night out,” I say faintly as I lock up the house and put the keys into my small purse. “I’m not…I mean, I wasn’t…”

  “It is a girls’ night out, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do double duty.”

  I get in her car and shut the door, worrying my bottom lip as I buckle my seatbelt and she gets in.

  Rowan gets in, laughing as she pats my leg. “Don’t worry, I’m not leaving without you, or with some random dude.”

  “Wasn’t worried at all.” Though inside, I’m practically wallowing in relief. I can’t imagine how awkward it would be to become the third wheel and look for another ride home.

  “Don’t laugh, okay?” she suddenly says as we head toward the interstate. “But the real reason I’m dressed like this?”

  “Yes?”

  “Seth’s in town and if he sees me, then I don’t want him to think I’m not over him. Because I am.” She shifts gears. “I’m completely over him, and I want him to regret every second of it. Which is why we’re going to King’s tonight instead of The Double Deuce.”

  I glance at her. If I didn’t know any better, I’d suspect there were tears in her eyes, but Rowan is so tough and confident that it doesn’t make sense. Yet, her confession wasn’t what I expected either.

  This time, I pat her leg and say, “If you see him, then let me know, and I’ll go kick his butt.”

  “You?” Rowan grins. “You’re tough, Reeves, but girls like you don’t throw down in clubs. Or anywhere else for that matter.”

  “Maybe not, but girls like me and you stand up for their friends when they’ve been hurt.”

  “Thank you,” she says quietly.

  “You’re welcome.”

  *

  King’s is crowded by the time we get there. It’s three stories tall on the inside, with balconies that overlook the dance floor. I’ve never been to a place like this in my life.

  Rowan waves at someone. “Piper grabbed a table. Let’s go.”

  She plunges into the crowd, and I follow. Bodies writhe, music pumps out the bass, and hands are everywhere. It’s hot and sticky, and twice, someone grabs my butt. By the time we get to the table, I want to weep with joy.

  Instead, I settle for practically hugging my chair. “Nice chair. Good chair. Hands-free chair.”

  I can feel Piper giving me an odd look. “Is she okay?” she asks Rowan.

  “Don’t mind her. She’s not used to being out with heathens.” Rowan grins at me. “Brooklyn, this is Piper Ross. Piper, this is Brooklyn Reeves. Our friend, Gia, couldn’t make it. Her babysitter cancelled at the last minute.” Piper is dainty with long, brown hair, big dark eyes and a friendly, but shy smile. She looks as out of place as I do.

  With a grin, I sit down and place my purse on the table. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Nice shirt.” She looks pointedly at me, and I realize we’re wearing the exact same shirt. Same color. Same style. “Loft?”

  “Ah. Yes.” I shake my head. “Guess we should have coordinated?”

  “Wouldn’t have mattered. You two would have still managed to look like twins,” Rowan says. “Who’s up for drinks?”

  “Me,” Piper sings out.

  Rowan narrows her eyes at her. “No virgins tonight.”

  Piper rolls her eyes. “Fiiine. But no tequila for you.”

  “Not a problem, since I’m the DD tonight.”

  “I’ll take a beer.” Only one, I tell myself. I didn’t eat enough today to trust myself with more.

  The two of them stare at me with something akin to horror.

  “A good beer?” I venture.

  “Don’t let her order, Ro,” Piper huffs.

  “Honey, you can’t come into King’s and order just a beer,” Rowan says. She waves at the bar. “They are known for their beers and signature drinks. I’ll take a beer. Jeez.”

  Piper nods in support of Rowan. “Seriously, Brooklyn. You can’t.”

  Exasperated, I grumble, “Then why don’t you order for me?”

  Twin looks of horror give way to smiles.

  “She’s a smart one.”

  “Knew you’d love her.”

  “So sweetly gullible.”

  “You’re one to talk.”

  “Shut up, Ro.”

  They burst out laughing while I stare at them like they’ve lost their minds…until it hits me. My mouth falls open in shock.

  “Oh my gosh! You guys were teasing me, weren’t you?”

  “Maybe,” Rowan says.

  Piper smacks Rowan’s arm, then turns her attention back to me. “Yes we were, but you passed the test.”

  “That was a test?”

  “It was Rowan’s idea,” Piper says quickly.

  A server comes and takes our order, but I request my own darn drink.

  “Good girl,” Rowan says approvingly.

  I stick my tongue out at her, feeling giddy and years younger all of a sudden.

  “Rowan said you moved from Jacksonville. Is that near Camp Lejeune,” Piper asks and I nod, my stomach flipping a little. This is the part where I talk about my husband, his death, and—“Why Forrestville of all places? I would have picked Maui or Tahiti.”

  My stomach stops flipping in dread. “I put a map of the US on the wall, closed my eyes, and threw a dart at it.”

  “No way,” Rowan says, gasping a little. “I wouldn’t have taken you for being so adventurous.”

  “I don’t think living here is adventurous.” Parker’s image comes to mind. Adventurous, no. Emotional, yes.

  “Then why didn’t you throw another dart?” Piper asks.

  Because I couldn’t bear to leave Braden. I couldn’t bear moving so far away that I couldn’t visit his grave. But I don’t feel comfortable admitting that.

  Instead, I shrug and give them a more palatable explanation—one that won’t make everyone feel sorry for me. “I
guess I didn’t want to leave North Carolina, after all.”

  *

  Parker

  “So that’s the infamous widow,” West says as we lean on the balcony in the VIP section and look down at the dance floor.

  Normally, this section is reserved for the rich and famous. On any given night, the hottest act in music, newest racing or movie star will be partying up here. Tonight’s no different, but I’m not paying them any attention. The only reason West and I are allowed up here is because of Beau Montgomery. His brother owns the place, and we called in a favor.

  In the past, Beau would have met us here, but he’s married now. He’s content and in love with a girl who’s the exact opposite of him.

  “Yeah. I wasn’t expecting to see her here tonight.” I take a drink of my beer and watch as Brooklyn, Rowan, and Piper head to the dance floor.

  I’ve known Rowan and Piper since elementary school. Well, mainly I’ve known Rowan, since we’re from the same part of town. Piper’s like West, a rich kid who doesn’t give a shit about where her friends are from.

  Only, she’s super quiet and shy. I would think someone like Brooklyn would get along with Piper. But when I think about how she teased me, how she got me to chase her in the yard… I don’t think Brooklyn’s shy at all.

  Or at least, she’s not with me. Isn’t that a kick in the teeth?

  “Why not?”

  “She said she was going to The Double Deuce.”

  “Are you going to stare at her all night, or actually talk to her?” West asks, breaking me out of my thoughts.

  Brooklyn starts to dance, but from up here I can’t tell if she’s really into it or not. Rowan and Piper dance with her, arms waving in the air while they shake their asses. All three of them burst out laughing.

  “I’m fine right where I am.”

  “Then why are you so bent out of shape over her?”

  I slice my gaze to West. “I’m not.”

  He nods, a small smirk emerging. “I can see that.”

  “Look, I’m trying to do the right thing and stay away from her. I’m leaving soon, and she needs someone who’s going to stick around for a while.” But the thought of staying away from her, of going back on my word to help her, makes me feel like shit.