“Yep.”
“Anyway, if you and Brooklyn have a mutual interest—seriously Rae? Ow. Fuck, you don’t have to hit me. I’m reading from your notes—uh, you didn’t hear that part, Parker.”
I love my sister-in-law, and I love the fact that she turns my brother into this big teddy bear. Well, most of the time. God help anyone who tries to mess with her or us. Then the Hulk Smash Monster comes out.
“You were saying?”
“Like I was saying, if the two of you have a mutual interest—shit—if the two of you want to hang out or date or sex each other up until y’all can’t move, then it’s not my place to warn you away. You’re a good guy, and unlike me, you always do the right thing.”
Unlike him? What Cole doesn’t know is that I idolize him, always have, and always will. The shame I feel when it comes to what I used to do is directly related to two things—his opinion of me and being treated as less than human.
“Whoever you decide to be with…well, I hope she realizes she’s just won the fucking lottery. I know it wasn’t said often enough growing up, but you’re not trash…you’re not worthless. You’re a fucking prize,” he adds in a gruff voice, and my chest gets a little tight. “I have no clue why you want to move so damn bad, but I wish to God you’d consider staying. Think of what it would do to Kelly. To me.”
His words hit me right in the gut. I hadn’t considered Kelly or him, or anyone but me. If Cole knew the reason why I wanted to leave, I think he would understand, but all he has to go on is my flippant, I need to get out of this place attitude.
“And I sure as hell won’t start going out with West because you won’t be around.”
I have to clear my throat a few times before I can speak. “Thanks. I appreciate that. It means a lot, coming from you.”
“Good.” He clears his throat, too. “Fanfuckingtastic. Look, I have to run.”
“See you in two weeks,” I say.
Then Cole ends our call, leaving me with my thoughts.
Chapter Sixteen
Brooklyn
Parker’s truck is parked beside mine when I get off work. He’s leaning against the back of his, looking sexy as anything in his dark jeans and forest green button down. Aviator-style sunglasses hide his eyes from me, giving him a mysterious look that makes me quiver in excitement.
“Hi,” I say, and he smiles, his dimples flashing.
“Wow. You look amazing.”
I laugh, smoothing down one side of my skirt. “You’re just saying that because I’m usually covered in dirt or mud when we hang out.”
He walks to me, meeting me in the middle, and takes off his sunglasses. “No, I mean it. You look beautiful. The pearls, the skirt… the hair. It’s a damn good thing Rowan’s your boss.”
Perplexed, I look at him. “Why?”
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “You really don’t know?”
I shake my head. “No.”
Biting his lip, he lets his gaze roam over me. A wave of heat washes over me and I feel my nipples get hard, but I don’t dare look down to see if that shows through my thin blouse. His gaze travels up and up, lingering on my breasts for a moment, before settling on my face. His eyes are more golden than green, his cheeks slightly flushed, and his nostrils slightly flared.
If I didn’t know any better, I would think he was turned on just from looking at me. The thought makes me slightly giddy.
“Let’s just say that you would meet every fantasy a man could have.” Then he clears his throat. “Are you free for dinner?”
“Right now? Tonight, I mean?” I sound all flustered, which I am, because I’m still turned on by him looking at me. Stop thinking like that, you sex-starved bunny.
“Yeah tonight.”
“I’m free.” I glance down at my clothes again. “Should I change?”
“Nope. You’re perfect just the way you are.” He takes my hand. “You’re riding with me. I’ll bring you back to your car later.”
*
The restaurant is, for lack of a better description, romantic with dim lighting, white tablecloths, and semi-private seating.
“Right this way,” the hostess says.
We walk behind her, and I notice with a frown how she puts an extra wiggle in her hips and keeps glancing over her shoulder at Parker.
But then Parker puts his hand on the small of my back, something that strikes me as an intimate and possessive gesture. “I’m with the most beautiful woman here,” he whispers in my ear.
Those warm and fuzzy feelings start to multiply inside of me until I feel slightly drunk on the compliment. “So am I,” I say with a silly smile, until I realize what I’ve just implied. “I mean, I’m with the most beautiful man here.” I wince. “Not beautiful, handsome. Sexy. Hot.” And the drunk possum is back. Stop talking. I smash my lips together and smile tightly.
“I knew what you meant, but my ego loves the added adjectives,” he says with a quiet laugh.
I snort. The hostess turns to us, gesturing to a table in the middle of the dining room. I go to sit, but Parker steps in front of me.
“We’d like another table, please,” he says and nods once to the right. “That one over there would work.”
“But that’s reserved for couples,” the hostess protests.
“There’s two of us, so the math works out,” Parker replies, and I can’t help but giggle behind his back.
The hostess steps to one side, shooting daggers at me with her eyes, like this is my fault. “Fine,” she huffs.
Once we’re seated with our menus, I watch in disbelief as the hostess slips her card under Parker’s water goblet. “If you need anything else, please let me know.” Then she sashays off.
With a roll of his eyes, he takes the piece of paper, crumples it up, and hands it to me. “When you get a chance, would you throw this away?”
I take the paper and slip it into the side pocket of my skirt. A secret part of me is thrilled Parker doesn’t want the hostess’ number, because if he thought I looked like every man’s fantasy in this, then the short skirt, fishnet stockings and high heels she’s wearing had to make men’s heads explode.
“You don’t want to call her?” I ask in pure disbelief.
“No.”
“Then why don’t you throw it away?”
“Because I don’t want you to think that there’s a possibility I would call her,” he says, stunning me into silence.
I nod and finally look at my menu, noting with alarm that there’s no price beside anything. If there aren’t any prices, that means our meal will cost more than what I spend on food in a month. I’ve only been to a restaurant like this twice in my life—once, for high school graduation and my parents paid the bill. The second time was after I received my associate’s degree. Braden had paid the bill. Or rather, we paid the bill with nearly every single cent of our grocery money.
“Parker,” I whisper-shout.
He looks over his menu at me. “What?”
Glancing around the dining room, I lower my voice even more, “The food.”
“It’s amazing. Did you want a recommendation?” he asks casually.
“You’ve been here before?” If he has, then I don’t have to point out the obvious, because he wouldn’t take me to a place he can’t afford. I inwardly groan. Now, I’m regretting my decision to point out anything at all to him.
“A few times.”
Which means he’s been here a lot, and I was getting ready to insult him. “Great. What’s your favorite dish?”
The cutest smile curves his mouth at the corners, and his eyes are teasing. “The one that costs the most.”
Blushing, I look at everything but him. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You almost did.”
I can’t fight back my grin. “You caught me.”
“Not yet, but I plan to,” he says and the server appears at our table before I can ask him what he means.
*
“What are we cele
brating?” I ask.
“Do we have to celebrate something in order to go out to dinner?”
I nod emphatically. “To this beautiful, romantic, swanky, can’t-be-bothered-with-prices-on-the-menu restaurant—absolutely.”
He takes a drink of his wine, before setting the flute down. “How about we’re celebrating the first of many dates.”
“With who?” I blurt, and then it hits me. “With me. Why me? I don’t… we haven’t… You didn’t tell me this was a real date.”
Concern shines in his eyes as he leans forward to take my hand. I stare at it, at the golden color of his skin, the feel of his rough, yet smooth palm as it warms mine.
“I’m not going to ask you to get over, or forget about Braden, but I want you to consider having me in your life in a bigger capacity than your handyman.”
*
Parker
She stares at me with big, gray eyes. Her lower lip trembles, but she doesn’t let go of me. In fact, she squeezes my hand harder until her knuckles are starting to turn white.
“I asked for you to consider me, not marry me. So, take a deep breath for me,” I gently order Brooklyn. Her chest rises and then falls, still too shallow for my liking. “One more time, beautiful girl.”
“Don’t call me…please, don’t call me beautiful girl,” she says, practically on the verge of tears.
“Was that something special Braden called you?” No, you dumbass, she always cries when people call her beautiful girl.
She nods tightly. “All the time and especially…you know.”
I will not be jealous of a dead man. I refuse to be jealous of a dead man, who, when he was alive, treated her so good that she can’t see past him and into the future.
“I’ll think of something else to call you, though beautiful girl is pretty accurate,” I say simply, as if her request doesn’t bother me. In reality, it doesn’t, but I have an uphill battle to fight, and it’s against a man who was good, a man who was a hero, and a man who I have no intention of replacing. Why would I? I’m here, and tragically, he’s not.
“You want to leave, and go someplace else to talk?” I ask, because she looks ready to bolt.
“Yes.”
I leave enough money on the table to cover our bill before we head outside. The hostess winks at me as we pass her station, and I ignore her.
Can’t she see I’m with Brooklyn? My arm is around her, and I’m practically carrying her out of this place. She’s using me as her strength, and if that isn’t one of the most powerful feelings in the world, then I don’t know what is.
As we wait for the valet to bring my truck around, I hug Brooklyn to me. “Just a few more minutes, sweetheart.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of a man holding a woman in his arms. His stance is protective, his facial expression is slightly worried, but a whole lot loving as he buries his nose into her hair.
With a little smile, I breathe in Brooklyn’s mouthwatering, feminine scent. The man does the same… no, not the man. Me. I’m looking at us, at our reflection in the window across the street.
Finally, the valet pulls up to the curb, and I have to let go of Brooklyn long enough to tip him and help her up into my truck.
“You should have told me,” she finally says as I pull away from the curb. “I wish you would have told me.”
“So you could have backed out?”
“Yes. I mean, no.” She rubs her temples. “I don’t know.”
“I’m not trying to push you, Brooklyn.” I glance at her and she looks at me, her disbelief obvious. “Right. I’m pushing you a little, but it’s not because I think you should start dating just to start dating. I have selfish motives.”
“Like being more than just my handyman.”
“A lot more.”
“But you don’t, that is… you’re not attracted to me,” she says.
“Are you kidding me?”
“Maybe you’re slightly attracted to me.”
What did I do or say to Brooklyn that makes her think this? Oh, that’s easy—almost everything. Screw taking her back to Callahan’s to get her truck. I speed up, pass the car in front of me, and take a left on Dogwood.
“In less than five minutes, we’re going to pull into your driveway. Then I’m going to throw this thing into park and kiss you until there’s no doubt in your mind I’m attracted to you. Is that enough warning for you?”
“Yes,” she says faintly.
Her driveway comes into view, and my heart kicks against my chest. My pulse races, and my dick starts to get hard at the thought of tasting her. I jerk my seatbelt off as I make a hard right into her drive and then throw it into park.
“Parker, I don’t think—”
I press my fingers against her lips, then slowly dip my head closer to hers. Never breaking contact, my fingers caress her mouth and glide across the silky skin of her cheek. Her lashes flutter, and I trace her each eyebrow with the tips of my fingers, first one and then the other. The shell of her ear, the stubborn line of her jaw, and the graceful column of her neck.
My lips begin to follow the same path, only in reverse. By the time I get to her mouth, she’s breathing so hard that she’s almost panting.
“Open for me,” I breathe against her lips. “I won’t kiss you until you do.”
Chapter Seventeen
Brooklyn
My mouth parts, but instead of kissing me like he promised, his hands slip into my hair, massaging my scalp. I feel the strands pull tight, then loosen from its confines as it falls down my back. I moan a little when he rubs my head, working at the sore spots caused by my prim bun.
“Feels like I have you naked with your hair like this,” he says and kisses the side of my neck. “You have such sexy hair, baby. Anyone ever tell you that?”
“No,” I reply shakily. Braden never—I mentally reject that thought. “Never.”
He smiles against my skin. “Do you know how many fantasies I’ve had of you that always begin with me taking down your hair?”
“How many?”
“All of them.” His fingers go to the neckline of my shirt, teasing me as they dip under to touch my skin. “Tell me something,” he says, sucking lightly on the juncture between my shoulder and neck.
In this moment, I would tell him anything. “What?”
“Is your hair long enough in the front so that your nipples can play hide and seek with the strands?” A large hand cups my breast while the other continues to rub the back of my head. My nipples harden in response, and I’m getting so wet that should he decide to touch me between my thighs, he’ll have no doubt about what he’s doing to me.
Not that he seems too concerned about that. Or maybe he’s overly confident.
“Do you fantasize about that, too?” I ask, instead of answering. I want to turn the table on him, just a little. “Do you picture me standing at the foot of your bed, teasing you with little glimpses of my nipples. They’re pink, by the way. Dark pink and—”
“Hard for me. Begging for my mouth.” His free hand drifts lower, glides down my back and curves around to touch my thigh. “But you know how much I like it when you tease me. So tease me. Make me work for you.”
My sex clenches. I flatten my hands against his chest and feel all the ridges and ripples as I go lower. His stomach contracts, his hips shift on the bench seat as he moves closer.
I feel cool air on skin formerly covered by my skirt, his eyes never leaving mine as he cocks his head to one side to judge my reaction. I raise up slightly and he pushes the skirt up to my waist.
For a minute, I get nervous. For a minute, I almost start to panic. Then Parker brushes his lips over mine, a torturous, sweet press that makes me yearn for more. His tongue sweeps inside my mouth and I open my lips wider, wanting him deeper.
His fingers brush the edge of my panties and I part my legs. I lean into his touch, his thumb and finger rolling my nipple. My vision sparks as every nerve comes alive. I come alive.
“Back with me, baby?” he asks. He knew. He could tell.
My heart swells for him. “I’m here. So are you.”
He grins, all at once cocky and tender. Then his golden head dips and his mouth is between my breasts, licking at the sensitive skin as his fingers stroke me. I move in time with his rhythm, wishing he’d do more. Wishing he’d put his fingers inside of me and ease the emptiness there.
“Tease me, Brooklyn,” he commands.
“I… I step closer to the bed, running my hands down my body, but not allowing you touch me.”
“Show me how wet you are,” he murmurs.
“My legs part and I spread my… pussy for you. My clit is swollen, so I touch myself there. I rub it until I’m about to come, but then you stop me. You say that I…I can’t come without your permission.”
“Fuck,” he groans. “That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. Now, I have to see your pussy.”
My head falls back against the seat as I spread my legs wide, my fingers joining his under my panties. His eyes flash hot.
“Put one inside of you—mine or yours. I don’t care,” he all but growls.
“Oh God,” I choke out when our fingertips meet.
“Do it. Tease me.”
Taking one of his fingers, I place it at the entrance and slowly push the tip of it inside of me. I moan at the feel of something so hard and hot there. It’s not enough, but I’m not sure if I’m ready for more.
“Please,” I whimper, finally meeting his gaze again. “Help me.”
Nodding once, he places my thigh over his shoulder and moves my panties to one side. “Thin strip of hair right down the middle. Damn, baby, how did you know?”
My cheeks heat, because I didn’t know, and he’s making me hotter than bare feet in the sand at noon in August. “I’m glad you approve.”
Need You Tonight Page 11