He chuckled. “I see my baby girl again after two years and that’s the first question I get?”
“Why would I ask anything else?”
The humor left his expression. “Come inside and get out of the cold.”
Because she wasn’t about to stand outside all night, she did as he said. She walked past him without even thinking about greeting him with a hug or a kiss. He didn’t reach for her either. As she unwound her scarf and removed her coat, she tried to get her racing heart under control. Anger seared her cheeks.
She’d seen her father only twice since Aiden’s funeral. The first time had been when she was sixteen, just after her mother died. He’d come home, watched Everly make all of the funeral arrangements, collected the insurance money that her mother hadn’t thought to switch to Everly’s name, and then went back to his umping job in Venezuela. The second time had been at Christmas two years before. He’d been online-dating a woman in the area and wanted to meet her. Once they met in person and things didn’t pan out, he left again without so much as a goodbye.
Deliberately ignoring her father, she walked over to her grandpa. He watched her from his recliner, worry clear in his eyes. She bent down to kiss his cheek.
“Hi, Pee Paw. How was your day?”
“It was good, my girl. Such a nice surprise to have Mason drop in.”
She knew he was fretting over how she’d react to his son’s presence. She wasn’t about to make a scene and escalate her grandpa’s stress. Smiling, she rubbed his upper arm.
“And what did Jonette have to say?” she asked, not acknowledging his statement. She reached for the green folder on the coffee table, knowing Jonette would have made notes for her.
“All’s well. No complications.”
“Good.” Everly studied the spirometer readings Jonette had jotted down in the file. The results hadn’t improved, but they weren’t worsening. “We’ll see what Dr. Valdez has to say when we go see her next week.”
“Are you just going to ignore me?”
Glancing at her father, she said, “I don’t see how that’s possible. I was just checking on my grandpa. Is that okay with you?”
“Well, haven’t you turned into the rude little bitch?”
The heat in her cheeks flamed to a painful level as she bit back her retort for her grandpa’s sake.
“Mason, that was uncalled for,” her grandpa said in a firmer voice than she was used to hearing from him. “You can’t expect her to fall over herself to please you when she hardly knows you anymore.”
“I can absolutely expect it. I’m her father, for God’s sake.”
“By DNA only,” she snapped, unable to stop herself. Then she took a deep breath and let it out. “Will you be staying for dinner? I have to know how much food to make.”
“I’m staying through at least Christmas,” he said.
Her jaw clenched and she had to force it to relax. “You’re in town for a week?”
“At least a week,” he clarified.
“Where are you staying?”
“Here, of course. I don’t have any money to spend at a hotel. I spent what I had on the plane ticket.”
She realized her fingernails were biting into her palms and made a point of loosening her fists. He’d stayed elsewhere on his other visits, which had made things a little more tolerable. This spelled disaster.
“We only have two bedrooms,” she ground out.
“Mason can use my bedroom,” her grandpa offered. “I sleep in this chair half the time, anyway.”
“Nonsense,” her father said, surprising her. Then his gaze turned to her. “Everly’s young. She can sleep on the couch.”
Although her nostrils flared, she didn’t argue. She sensed her grandpa’s gaze on her and worked hard to contain her expression.
“Unless, of course, you want to offer me money for a hotel,” her father continued. “I understand that you’ve come into quite a windfall.”
Her gaze moved to her grandpa. She saw the guilt on his face.
“Pee Paw,” she said, her voice shaking. “What did you tell him?”
“That you’re working with Cole Parker,” her father said. “And he’s paying you well for your services.”
She couldn’t believe her ears. She’d impressed upon her grandpa how essential it was that he not tell a soul about her arrangement with Cole. How could he have told her father?
Thinking fast, she looked right into her father’s eyes and lied.
“Yes. Cole Parker approached me a few weeks ago about creating a personal training regimen specific to pitchers. His brother, Wyatt, is one of my mentors at school and suggested that he reach out to me. And, yes, I was paid well for it.”
“You’re speaking of him in the past tense,” her father said.
“That’s because I completed the project.”
“Is that right?” Her father’s blue eyes gleamed. “Then where did you sleep last night?”
Once again, she looked at her grandpa. He wouldn’t meet her gaze.
Sighing, she said, “I was with Cole.”
“So you’re still working with him?” her father pressed.
“Not exactly.”
Now, her father smiled. “My daughter’s dating Cole Parker.”
The sentence felt sacrilegious as it touched her ears. She wanted to shout at him, tell him that he wasn’t allowed to take pride in something so significant to her, but she knew it wouldn’t help. Instead, she headed for the kitchen.
“I’ll take the couch,” she said over her shoulder. “And if you think you’re asking me for money while you’re here, you’re in for a terrible disappointment.”
* * *
Her mood had shifted from dour to deadly by the time dinner was done. Her father spent the entire meal talking about his life in Venezuela, repeating things he’d already shared in his last few letters. Not once did he ask about his father’s health or daily well-being. The only time he asked her any questions was when he tried to pry information about Cole from her, which she refused to answer. She ate her soup and sandwich as quickly as she could and then excused herself to her bedroom.
When she reached her room, she saw her father’s suitcase already beside the door. His presumption just fueled her anger. Storming into her room, she gave his suitcase a sideways kick as she passed. It was a petulant act, but it felt damn good.
Then her eyes fell on the framed poster hanging on the wall above her bed. Wyatt had given it to her the year before for Christmas. It was an autographed print of Cole in the middle of a pitch.
Even though she now knew that it hadn’t taken much effort for Wyatt to get the autograph, it was still her most prized possession. She thought it might kill her to have her father sleeping beneath Cole’s image for the next week. In fact, it really would.
Climbing up on her bed, she pulled the frame down. Then she carried it over to her closet and hid it as best as she could. She didn’t know whether her father had already been inside her room, but she didn’t care. It was none of his business why she’d taken the poster down.
She spent the next thirty minutes changing her sheets and gathering her essentials into an overnight bag that she could keep in the family room. She had no idea what her father’s daily routine consisted of, and she didn’t care enough to ask. After packing all of her toiletries, her pajamas, and an outfit for the next day, she made sure there wasn’t anything else in her room she didn’t want her father finding. There wasn’t. She couldn’t decide if she was grateful or sad about that.
Once her father and grandpa retired for the night, she gathered her bedding and headed to the sofa. She had just started tucking a flat sheet around the cushions when her cell phone rang.
Diving for the phone on the charger plugged into the wall, she read the Caller ID. Cole. Her mood instantly lifted as she clicked the accept button.
“Howdy,” she answered.
“Why are parents such a pain in the ass?” he replied.
A
smile caught the corners of her mouth. “A more appropriate question has never been uttered.”
“Seriously. I got the full gamut today. I had to listen to my dad explain why he and my mom opted for lemon sherbet on the walls of the new home office—which used to be my room, by the way—instead of lemon ice. He couldn’t even explain why paint colors are named after things like sherbet.”
“One of life’s mysteries,” she commiserated as she finished tucking an edge of the sheet under a cushion.
“Right? Then it was all about why they wanted the nickel finish on the guest bathroom’s fixtures instead of the chrome. Do you want to know why?”
“I’m on the edge of my seat.”
“So was I. It’s because my Aunt Bertha—yes, I have an actual aunt named Bertha—doesn’t like to see her reflection warped on any surface. Who has that kind of hang-up, for the love of Pete?”
She held back a laugh. “Who’s Pete?”
“Don’t ask. Mom says it all the time. When I’m around her for more than an hour, I start sounding just like her. It’s mortifying.”
“Ah. Well, that kind of hang-up must be agonizing for poor Bertha. Think of all of the chrome in public restrooms.”
“The last thing I want to think about is Aunt Bertha in the bathroom.”
Now she did laugh. Then she clapped a hand over her mouth and looked down the hallway to the bedrooms. There was only darkness under her bedroom door, she was relieved to see.
“Then, once I did the obligatory tour, I had to endure the Mom Interview.”
She shifted the phone to the crook of her neck so she could use both hands to unfold the top sheet. “What’s a mom interview?”
“Not a mom interview. The Mom Interview. You know, the third-degree on steroids. Things like, how’s life? Who’re you seeing right now? When are you getting married? When can I expect grandbabies?”
“Oh,” she said, pausing for a moment as she placed the sheet on the sofa. “Sounds painful.”
“Tell me about it. At least I got to spend some time with Sam.”
She smiled as she turned to see where she’d placed her pillows and blanket. “That’s nice. Avery stopped by then?”
“Yeah. The kid gets bigger and bigger every time I see him.”
“He sounds sweet. Wyatt talks about him all the time.”
She moved to pick up her blanket, which she’d left on the end table, and smacked her toes on the coffee table. Issuing a loud curse, she stumbled and fell. Her phone went flying.
“Everly?”
She flushed with embarrassment when she heard Cole’s voice through the receiver. Picking up her phone, she said, “Sorry about that.”
“What in the world are you doing?”
“I’m making up the sofa, which will be my bed for at least the next week since my father decided to blow through town without any notice.”
Only when she was greeted with silence did she realize what had just happened. She’d shared something about her personal life with someone else without thinking twice about it. The realization had her standing next to the sofa clutching her pillows.
What did that mean?
“You know,” Cole said at last, “I have this guest room...”
That eased her tension a little. “So I’ve heard. Thanks, but I need to stay near my grandpa. It’s not like my father knows what to do to help him if anything happens.”
Even she heard the bitterness in her voice. Frowning, she plopped her pillows down and tossed the blanket onto the end of the sofa.
“Well, consider it an open invitation,” he said. “There’s plenty of room for Jake, too.”
The offer had her sinking onto the sofa. He hadn’t even batted an eye over inviting her grandpa to his home. It was enough to have her eyes burning with emotion.
“Listen,” he said, “it may not seem so at the moment, but I didn’t call to whine. I called to see if you might be interested in coming out to my photo shoot tomorrow.”
She blinked away the tears and cleared her throat. “Didn’t you say that there would be people you know at this thing?”
“There will be. I figured we’re already moving forward with being a couple as our cover story, so why not make it as genuine-looking as possible?”
His words left her feeling hollow. Well, what had she expected?
She looked again down the hallway toward her bedroom. She thought of how miserable she'd be with her father around. Spending the day with Cole pretending to be his latest romantic interest would almost certainly be better than being around here.
Glancing at the outfit she’d set aside for tomorrow, which she had assumed she’d be wearing around the house, she asked, “Is there a dress code?”
“Definitely not. I’ll even take you out for breakfast beforehand.”
It didn’t take her long to decide. “Where would you like to meet?”
Chapter 27
Cole insisted on picking Everly up the next morning. He told her that it would look strange to everyone at the shoot if they arrived in two different vehicles. The truth was, he just wanted her to ride with him.
He didn’t acknowledge the significance of that any more than he acknowledged the reason he’d called her at almost midnight just to hear her voice.
When he pulled up at her house before eight in the morning, she stepped out the side door before he’d even put the car into park. His heart rate sped up the moment he spotted her. A wide smile spread across his face. It was then that he finally conceded he was just fooling himself if he thought their relationship was strictly professional.
As she locked the door to the house behind her, he got out of the car and walked to the passenger side door. He waited until she approached.
“Good morning, Ms. Wallace,” he said.
“Good morning, Mr. Parker.”
He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. She caught his gaze when he pulled back. Then her gloved hand grabbed the front of his leather jacket and pulled him back down.
Her lips touched his. Then her mouth parted. That had him reaching up to touch the side of her face as he sank into the kiss. His heart wanted to escape his chest. This—the feel and taste of Everly—was more potent than any amount of caffeine.
When they parted this time, he reached beside him and opened the car door. He could all too easily forget the time and miss his appointment with distractions as amazing as her kiss.
“Your chariot, my lady,” he said, giving her a bow and flourish with his hand.
“Thanks,” she said, moving past him to settle into the passenger seat. “Trying for French again?”
“It is—oh, never mind,” he said, rolling his eyes and closing the door. Was his French accent really that bad?
He got back behind the wheel and fastened his seatbelt. When he glanced at Everly, he realized her striking eyes were focused on him and she was smiling. Her smile could punch a hole through him, he thought.
“I have a confession to make,” he said.
“I’m all ears.”
“I asked you to come today because I wanted to spend time with you. That’s all.”
Surprised flickered in her gaze. Her smile brightened.
“Well, I accepted because I wanted to spend time with you. That’s all.”
“Glad to hear it.” And he really was.
He pulled out of her grandpa’s driveway and headed along the back streets of Atlanta toward breakfast. He’d decided on a diner he liked near Emory. It wasn’t too far from the studio where the photo shoot would take place.
“What kind of car is this?” she asked.
“A Maserati GranTurismo.”
“It sure is sweet,” she said. “I’ve never seen anything like it. I’ll bet this thing cost five times what I paid for Champ.”
He wagered just the repairs he’d recently had done fell into that range. “Um...”
“Sorry. I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. When you’re used to wondering how you’re
going to pay the next bill in the stack, you tend to give everything a monetary value.”
It was sad that she had to explain that to him, he thought. He’d never wanted for anything in his life. His parents had both worked successful careers that allowed them to provide well for their children. They’d set up trust funds for each child, money he’d invested when he turned twenty-one since he hadn’t needed it. By the time he was Everly’s age, he’d been a multi-millionaire. Not once had he ever wondered whether he could afford to pay a bill.
Hell, he’d never paid a bill. His accountant handled all of that.
“And I’m not making this sound any better,” she said over his thoughts. “Anyway, it’s a beautiful ride.”
“Thanks.” He pulled onto the expressway. “So, tell me about this job offer you mentioned.”
She did, and it wasn’t long before they arrived at the restaurant. They were seated right away since it was still early. Within minutes, they were sitting with steaming cups of coffee in front of them.
“I have a confession to make,” she said once the waitress left to place their orders.
“I’m all ears.”
She didn’t smile or meet his gaze, telling him that what she had to say wasn’t going to be fun to hear. He took a sip of his coffee as she studied the table.
“My grandpa told my father about us.”
His grip tightened on his coffee mug. “Told him what, exactly?”
“That I was working with you.” She looked up. “I’m so sorry, Cole. I never thought Pee Paw would do such a thing.”
He didn’t respond. He couldn’t.
“I told my father that you did hire me,” she said, “but I said it was to design a personal training program for pitchers. He believed me.”
He took another sip of coffee. At least she’d given her father a logical explanation for them having exchanged money for professional services. What a mess.
“Everly, I trusted you on this.” His voice was tight as he tried to calm his anger.
“I know. I’m sorry.” She took a deep breath. He saw genuine pain in her eyes. “My grandpa still clings to the illusion that his son cares about him. I think he told him about you as a way to get my father to show interest in him again.”
The XOXO New Adult Collection: 16 Full Length New Adult Stories Page 46