“But I’m not your family,” I whisper. “I’m nothing to you.”
He leans down and kisses my cheek. Again. “I wouldn’t say that.”
I tilt my head back a little to look up at him. “I still don’t quite understand.”
“Neither do I.” He runs a hand through his hair, making it all messy and sexy. “But I’m getting there.”
Chapter Fourteen
Brooklyn
“Ready to decorate?” he asks, opening the first box.
Slowly, I nod. I can do this.
“Wait, you’re the birthday girl. Birthday girls are not allowed to do anything but eat cake and ice cream while being waited on hand and foot.”
“You brought me a birthday cake, too?”
He grabs a white box and brings it to me, flipping the top open. Unlit candles and rainbows with flowers decorate it. “I had no idea what you like, so it was either Happy Divorce Party or this—which was for a kid’s party that had the date moved at the last second.”
“Don’t apologize,” I say hoarsely. “Don’t…” I take the cake and set it down on the coffee table and grab Parker up in a hug. “This is the nicest thing anyone has done for me in a very long time.”
His big, strong hands run up and down my back. I know he’s not meaning to, but with every pass, he’s fitting me to him, making me melt against his hard body.
“Did your parents know you don’t celebrate anything anymore, or are you not that close to them?”
I shake my head. “I hid it from them. I was too ashamed to let them know how weak I was.”
“Oh, baby. You are the opposite of weak. You’re strong. So damn strong. Sure, you’re fragile right now, but that just means to handle with extra care. That you need extra care and attention. That you need a birthday cake and a Christmas tree in May.”
Even as I cry, I laugh. My body shakes, but he holds me tighter. “I missed you. Your laugh. Your smile. Every damn thing about you.”
“You did?” I lean back in his arms as he nods.
“Why wouldn’t I miss your friendship?”
I tense up. I can’t help it. I was the one who was supposed to friend-zone him, not the other way around.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine. I’m just overwhelmed.”
“I can take the tree down. Take everything back. Your call,” he says, and it makes me want to cry harder because he’s being so sweet and understanding. “I promised I’d be here for you, to be the one you could lean on when everyone else put too much pressure on you.”
Now it all made sense. He hadn’t really come here because he missed me. He felt guilty. He felt like he had to honor a promise he made when I broke down in front of him.
“Don’t go there, Brooklyn,” he warns. “Don’t make this what it’s not. I want to be here. I want to be your friend. There are a thousand other places, thousands of miles away, that I could be, but I’m here. With you and for you. Take a chance on me. Right here, right now.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
He presses a kiss to my temple. “What would you like to do first—decorate, eat your cake, or open your presents?”
Taking a step back, I survey the room, which is practically stuffed with Christmas decorations and boxes. “You really bought me presents?”
“Yeah. It’s not much, since I had short notice, but I think you’ll like them.”
“Presents,” I blurt and then smash my lips together. I sound so greedy.
He takes one and hands it to me. “Birthday present first.”
It’s brightly wrapped and topped with a purple and pink bow. “It’s almost too pretty to open.”
“Either you rip it open or I will,” he says sternly.
I make a face at him. “Yes, sir, Mr. Morgan.”
An odd look gleams in his eye before he drops his gaze. I quickly unwrap the present and open the box. “Shin guards and keeper gloves,” I laugh, staring at the black, purple, and white shields, and the matching gloves.
“You didn’t have any on, and West said the team wants you to be our backup goalie. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Biting my lip, I let that sink in. He’s protective of me, concerned about my safety when it’s not his job. “Thank you.”
He peers at me, through lashes so thick that I’m slightly jealous. “You’re welcome. You can open the rest while I finish unpacking.”
I sit on the floor, beside the tower of presents, and begin to open each one. They are filled with candy and glittery pens, a beautiful cream-colored scarf…and a plastic tiara with fake pink and white diamonds.
Of course, I love it and immediately put it on. It’s obvious that Parker is used to shopping for a very girlie little girl.
“You have to wear it,” he says as he strings lights along the mantle.
I clear my throat and he glances at me. A smile tugs at his mouth while his eyes light up. “Ta-da!”
“Hot, girl. So, hot.” He winks at me, and my body does, in fact, become very hot.
Stupid body.
I lift the last box. “Oof, this is heavy and big.”
“That’s what she said.”
“Really?” I ask with a teasing grin he can’t see. “That’s still a thing?”
He shrugs. “Guess not.”
I snort. “I was just giving you a—” The paper falls away and I stare at the box. Then I jerk my gaze to his. “You bought me a purple toolbox?”
An uneasy look passes over his face. “Yeah.”
I flip on the locks and lift the lid. “And you filled it with tools?” Taking out a screwdriver, I hold it up and examine the purple handle.
“Yeah.”
“I love it!”
He nods, taking a large star out of the last box. “Good.”
“I want to screw something!” I chirp. “Did you bring me something to screw?”
He gives me a cocky grin. “I’m sure we could find something for you to screw.”
“Not you,” I say, my cheeks growing hot. Though the idea has crossed my mind about a million times since I met him.
“That’s a mighty big assumption you’ve just made.” His shirt lifts as he stretches to put the star on top of the tree. I can see his ripped abs from my vantage point.
“How does it look?”
“Very nice,” I sigh, still looking at his body. This is bad, bad, bad. I can’t go from these emotional highs and lows to lusting after Parker’s body. He’s not here for that.
“I meant the tree, sweetheart.”
I almost give myself whiplash as I yank my head in the opposite direction and then look up. Blinking at the lights, I can hardly take it all in, so I lay down.
“Most people would stand on the other side of the room,” he points out.
With a grin, I frame the tree with my hands. “Most people would be wrong.”
“It’s your birthday,” he says. To my surprise, he sits down beside me. My gaze slides to his profile, and my heart flutters in my chest. I have it bad. Even if he doesn’t.
But I can be okay with that. I don’t have to have a relationship with the first man I find attractive. I’m sure I’ll find other men attractive once I work through my issues and decide to date.
Suddenly, Parker stretches out beside me, one arm behind his head to prop it up. “Hmm. This is a nice viewpoint.”
He turns to look at me and I quickly look away, so he doesn’t catch me staring at him. “Told you.”
“I’ll take a picture.” He takes one of the tree, and then scoots closer to me and turns the camera on us. “Smile.”
“I only got to spend one Christmas with Braden, so we didn’t have any traditions yet,” I blurt while he shoves his phone back into his pocket.
“How long were you married?”
Not long enough. “Almost three years, but he spent two of them mostly gone on missions or deployed.”
“Must have been hard.”
“Marines don’t complain and neither do the
ir wives,” I automatically say, smiling wistfully. “That was our motto.”
We fall into a comfortable silence, listening to the holiday music Parker has playing on his cell. The scent of evergreen and cinnamon washes over me, courtesy of the candles he thought to bring and light.
“You okay, Brooklyn?” he asks in that low voice of his that sends shivers through my body.
The fleeting touch of his hand to mine startles me a little, but in my next heartbeat, our fingers are laced together. He gives my hand a gentle squeeze, and my heart races.
“I am.” Actually, I’m more than okay. Or at least for the moment I am. Extreme happiness and sadness suddenly overwhelm me at his gesture and the details he didn’t overlook. If what he did here for me, in a few hours time, is any indication of what he did for his little sister, I can’t imagine what kind of life he had to deal with that drove him to this extreme.
“Tell me about your brother and sister.”
“We’re close. I love them. No one comes close.”
“Except for West.” I turn my head, and our gazes collide.
He grins a little. “Yeah, we have a bromance.”
“You’re a very cute couple.”
He gives me a look, and I giggle. “Tell me something I haven’t heard before.”
I think I’m falling for you. “We’re celebrating Christmas in May?”
*
Parker
I laugh at her joke, but I can’t laugh at what I see her in eyes. So many emotions swirl in those grey depths. Is she thinking of me, of Braden, or her family?
Unable to take it anymore, I look away, but I keep holding her hand. One time, I remember West talking about this. How the first time he held hands with McKenzie that it felt like more…
I know what he means. This does feel like more. It feels like everything I’ve been missing. I will miss her, with everything inside of me. It’s killing me inside to contemplate the future, now that I’ve been in her presence.
A week without her confirmed that.
Shit. What have I gotten myself into? Maybe I should tell her that I’m leaving at the end of the summer. That’s why I’d given her a toolbox—so she’d be able to repair things on her own while my brother and Rae search for another handyman.
Brooklyn starts to sing along with the song playing in the background. She sounds so happy, and I can’t ruin that by telling her the truth.
Only, without knowing it, Brooklyn is chipping away at all the reasons I should leave Forrestville. All but one. I move my arm from under my head and hold my hand in front of me.
I flex my fingers, thinking of the countless women I’ve touched with them. The countless women I’ve made cry out with pleasure with my mouth. Women who didn’t know me, who used me with my permission, because I needed the money to pay for shit that Cole had no clue about.
Yet, all I’ve done with my mouth and hands to Brooklyn is made her cry, made her question her loyalty to the memory of her husband, and made her shrink back inside herself.
I’m that man. The one I’d swore never to be. It doesn’t matter that I’ve never physically touched her in anger, because I’ve wounded her deeply with my words. I have to own that, and before the summer ends, I have to make up for it, too.
She rolls to one side, propping her head up with her hand. “I’m starving for more pizza. Want some?”
Want some? I want her. My gaze falls to her pink lips. “I’m… I need to go, actually.”
A flash of disappointment covers her face. “All right.”
Letting go of my hand, she scrambles to her feet, and I join her. We walk to the front door, my steps slowing the closer we get. I don’t want to leave, but I don’t trust myself to stay.
“Big plans tomorrow?” she asks.
No, I don’t have any other plans, but to work out and pick up some groceries. I spend most days like that, by myself. “Not really. You?”
“Church and then back home for lunch. I bought some flowers to plant and—”
I seize the excuse to spend more time with her. “I can help.”
She gives me the biggest, sweetest smile I’ve ever seen, bumping me with her hip. “You just want me to cook Sunday dinner for you, don’t you?”
“I love to eat.”
A slight blush covers her cheeks. “I love cooking for someone again.”
Her heartfelt admission reminds me of my unfounded accusation. “About that,” I begin, and her smile falters, “I was way off-base to accuse you of using me to get over Braden. In fact, I was more than off-base, I was wrong.”
“You were wrong,” she agrees, and I inwardly flinch. I deserve to hear that from her, so I’ll keep my mouth shut and take it like a man. “I would never use you to get over my—Braden, or for anything else. But I think what you did for me tonight proves that you’re a really good guy, Parker.” She touches my chest, the pressure light but firm. “Your heart’s in the right place, even if the rest of you hasn’t caught up to it yet.”
Chapter Fifteen
Parker
Dusting the dirt off my jeans, I survey my work. Flowers of every color imaginable are freshly planted in the front, around the mailbox, and along the sides of the house. My hands are slightly itchy from the pine straw I’ve just put out, but the place looks better than it ever has.
“What do you think?” I ask Brooklyn as she comes around the corner with an armload of plastic containers.
There are smudges of dirt on her nose, cheek, and the yellow tank top she has on. Her hair is falling out of her bun, and she’s wearing rain boots with a pair of shorts that are faded and frayed at the bottom. She has to be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life.
“I think you need to go into the landscaping business,” she says, joining me.
“I’ll add it to my list.”
“What kind of list?”
Taking the containers from her, I dump them into the back of my truck and then walk to the front porch to sit on the steps. “I have a list of jobs I’m considering.”
“Having a hard time picking out what you want to be when you grow up?” she asks, and though I know she teasing, I can’t help but think she’s mentally comparing me to her husband and finding me lacking.
“Too busy working to pay bills to have that luxury,” I say, grabbing the water bottle behind me. “I did the college thing for a while but it’s expensive and my work schedule interfered.” Most of the time, I was exhausted, and the more I was available to work for the agency, the more money I made to help pay the bills.
“Rowan said you and your brother used to own The Double Deuce.”
I give her a side-glance and take a drink of water. “Did she also say we’re loaded?” Jesus. I do not want to put Brooklyn in the same category as gold digger.
“Kinda. But not for the reasons you think.” She sits down beside me, our thighs nearly touching. “She told me so I wouldn’t stay mad at you.”
That doesn’t help. “The thought of me being rich helped you get over what I said to you?”
“No!” She shakes her head so hard that the knot forming in my chest starts to unwind. “I thought the only reason you finished all the things that needed to be done around here was because you needed the money, not because you…wanted to help me. Maybe? Rowan suggested that was your motive.”
I lean back on my elbows, studying her face. “What if I told you that all the money we made from the sale of the bar went into a trust fund for Kelly and none of us can touch it?”
“I think it’s very sweet of you to look out for your little sister like that.”
“Doesn’t that prove Rowan wrong? That I’m only here because I need the money, and everything I do is backed up by a paycheck?”
She eyes me. “No.”
I raise my brows. “Really?”
“Yes, because there’s a Christmas tree in my living room with presents under it that say otherwise.” With a pleased look on her face, she gets up and looks at me. �
�Thanks for all your help today. I’m going to take a shower and relax. Don’t forget to take your leftovers from lunch home with you.”
“I won’t.” I watch her walk inside, leaving the door open for me.
After a minute or two, I hear water running. I groan at the images that come to mind. Water sliding down her body, her hands soapy as she caresses her skin. The arch of her neck as she washes her hair under the rain of water.
I grow hard. Painfully hard.
“Just get your shit and leave,” I mutter to myself. Pushing away from the porch to stand, I walk inside to get the containers of food Brooklyn had put together for me.
My hip bumps a table along the way, and I hear something fall to the floor. Bending down to pick it up, I turn it over, only to find Brooklyn’s husband staring back at me, accusation in his eyes. I almost drop the fucking thing.
Lusting after my wife, huh? You’re not good enough for her. Face it, bro, you’re nothing but a whore… a glorified prostitute, and my girl deserves better.
Hands shaking, I carefully put the picture back where it belongs. Then I stride out of the house, a place I don’t belong, and away from a woman that will never belong to me.
*
When I get home, I call Cole. Unsurprisingly, he answers on the first ring.
“Hey.”
“We need to go see mom.”
I expect Cole to argue with me, or at least give me a hard time, but he does none of that. “I’ll get the tickets. Two week from today work for you?”
Any day works for me. The sooner, the better, but he doesn’t need to know that. My brother won’t leave it alone if I admit it. He’ll want to know why. “Yeah.”
“Anything else on your mind?”
Will you still call me brother when I admit the truth of what I used to do? Who I used to be? “No.”
“I want to apologize,” Cole says just as I think he’s about to end our call.
“For what?”
“For being so hard on you about Brooklyn. Rae overheard our conversation and suggested that the two of you were grown-ass adults, and I should quit being so nosey.”
I swallow the laughter building in my throat. “She’s standing right beside you, isn’t she?”
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