by Lacey Baker
“I think the town is certainly thriving, Mrs. Kirk. I happen to know for a fact that the Cantrells together with me, Pia Delaney, and Delia Kincaid put a lot of effort into making tonight a success. And we have Mayor Fitzgerald to thank for reaching out to all the new sponsors we received this year. This year’s celebration has been a collaborative effort that I’m sure will pay off for the entire town.”
There, that should shut her up, Drew thought triumphantly.
“And speaking of the Cantrells, there’s the most popular one of them now,” Louisa remarked snidely, nodding her floppy-hat-covered head in the direction behind Drew.
Marabelle began to wave her hand excitedly. “Oh, he’s such a handsome fella. The best-looking one of the bunch, if you ask me. And that’s saying something, since Quinn and Preston are lookers as well.”
Cantrells. Best-looking one of the bunch. Quinn and Preston are lookers as well. That left only one Cantrell brother remaining. Drew’s heart beat a rhythm that almost matched the one the barbershop quartet down a few booths was singing. Her skin suddenly felt clammy, sweat rolling in slow, annoying lines down her back and between the swells of her breasts. She swallowed deeply and was just giving herself a count of ten to calm her nerves when he spoke.
“Good evening, ladies. It’s a wonderful evening for a carnival. Everything down here looks good,” he said to Louisa’s and Marabelle’s pleasure.
Then to Drew’s horror he touched a hand to her waist as he walked around so that he was now standing in front of her.
“Yes, everything here is looking extremely good.…” His deep voice rolled over her like a fresh wave of humidity, and Drew clenched her hands at her sides.
“Hello, Parker,” she finally managed, because otherwise she would feel like a 100 percent idiot, instead of a 50 percent one.
“Hello, Drew,” was his slow and sultry reply.
Dammit, nothing about this evening was going as she’d planned.
Parker smiled down at her, keeping his hand at her waist—and the body that had been going through its own round of changes in the last few weeks changed once more. Her discomfort shifted to warm desire as she continued to stare up at him. The practiced speech melted to nonexistence in her mind as she inhaled his cologne. He was dangerous, she’d known that the night she’d been out with Delia, having drinks at Charlie’s. He was too good-looking to be safe, and he was the father of the baby growing inside of her.
To say Drew was screwed was an understatement—a gross understatement that made her temples throb.
Chapter 3
He’d waited months to get his hands on her again. Damn if those months hadn’t seemed like years. And even if the touch was as simple as his hand on her waist, it was enough to send blood soaring through Parker’s body to rest soundly in his groin, where an erection was inevitable.
His attraction to Drewcilla Sidney had hit him hard one night, and he’d presumed it was the result of the trio of rum and Cokes Charlie had served him. But the next evening, when he was completely sober and on his way to the bar, he’d seen her going into The Crab Pot. Of course he’d followed, he’d had no other choice. Watching her work that night—bringing drinks to tables, leaning over said tables to roll out paper for the customers having crabs, laughing so that her eyes were alight with joy, her hair hanging in lazy curls down her back—had proven one point. His desire for her was not alcohol induced, and it wasn’t going away easily.
This evening her hair was pulled back from her face, giving Parker an unfettered view of pretty brown eyes and elegantly arched brows. She licked her lips, then nibbled on the bottom one for a split second before squaring her shoulders and looking directly at him. If he weren’t a man, a decorated homicide detective at that, he might have said her actions made him just a bit dizzy with desire.
Instead of actually owning up to that, Parker cleared his throat. “You look really pretty tonight,” were the words that tumbled from his mouth.
They sounded so juvenile, so spontaneous, and yet possibly contrived. He mentally kicked himself for not coming up with something better. For weeks he’d been waiting for the moment, to not only get his hands on her again, but to have the chance to speak to her without her running away. And now that the moment seemed to have arrived, this was what he’d said?
“Thank you,” she said about a second before she took a step back so that his hand fell from her waist.
“You act like you two have never met,” Louisa said to Drew. “When I know that can’t be true, since I specifically remember seeing you climb onto the back of that noisy monstrosity he drives around here like he owns the town.”
Parker was used to Louisa’s abrupt candor, or at least he’d become reacquainted with it in the weeks he’d been back. Louisa and Marabelle frequented The Silver Spoon restaurant at least twice a week. He suspected it was as much to fuel more of their gossip as it was for the food. In the times he’d seen them there, he’d also overheard some of their conversations, where no one was exempt. His family was one of their hot topics, so Louisa’s comment was no shock to him.
As for Drew, well, the mortified look on her face said she was feeling differently.
“I’m always available to give a young lady a ride home when needed, Mrs. Kirk. You wouldn’t have wanted me to leave Drew to walk home alone, would you?” he asked, tearing his eyes away from Drew only long enough to lock gazes with Louisa. If not, the woman would believe she had the upper hand.
Louisa shook her head. “She has a car. A very bright little thing looks like a buggy. She keeps it parked in her backyard all the time, but I see it whenever she zips up Main Street on her way down here to help her uncle out at his crab shack.”
And Parker needed to know all that information. It was a good thing he already knew the details Louisa had just divulged about Drew’s personal life and an even better thing he wasn’t some deranged stalker. If he were, that information could have put Drew in danger. Of course, that was his cop’s mind thinking, but that didn’t make it any less true.
“I think it’s good that a couple have a practical car and then something completely whimsical and a little dangerous,” Marabelle said with a smile to Parker. “Besides, that bike of yours is kind of hot.”
She whispered the word hot as if it might have actually been a sin to say it and if heard, she would justly burn in the fiery pits of hell.
“We’re not a couple,” Drew stated adamantly, her eyes widening as she looked from Marabelle to Parker pleadingly.
Parker cleared his throat. “She’s right, we’re not a couple, Mrs. Stanley. But I think my bike’s kind of hot, too.”
Marabelle smiled at that. Louisa frowned, and Drew, well, she looked as if she might actually faint. A hand went to her neck, fingers shaking, and another brushed past her stomach and then fell to her side. But it was the clammy look of her skin that really concerned Parker and spurred him into action.
“Ladies, it’s been lovely visiting with you, but I really need to get Drew alone for just a second.” He thought about how that comment would be perceived by these two women and decided to add, “Michelle’s looking for her to talk about purchasing more flowers for the inn.”
“Oh yes, the bouquets in the church sanctuary are beautiful, dear,” Marabelle told Drew. “You two run along, I can’t wait to see what you come up with for the inn. Tell Michelle we’ll be there tomorrow night for dinner as usual.”
“I will,” Parker said with a nod. He stepped toward Drew then because she hadn’t moved.
“You look sick, Drewcilla,” Louisa spoke up from behind Parker. “Maybe you should call your brother over here, Parker. Instead of trying to drag the girl off somewhere.”
Drew shook her head then. “No. I’m fine, really I am,” she said, attempting to pull away from Parker’s grasp once more.
This time Parker leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Either go along with me and make an easy escape from these two, or stand here and try to fight whatever is bot
hering you and them at the same time. It’s your choice.”
She clamped her lips shut and swallowed deeply.
“Let’s go, Parker. I don’t want to keep Michelle waiting,” she said finally.
With an arm resting around her waist once more—a position that felt oddly comfortable to Parker—they walked down the pier away from the town gossips. The wind blew and he inhaled the sweet scent of her perfume, a scent he remembered well from their night together. The night he’d dreamt of for the past few months, wondering, hoping, and quite possibly needing a repeat.
Obviously that was not Drew’s intention, as she’d been dedicated to keeping her distance from him since that fateful night.
“I’m fine,” she said in a soft voice.
So soft that he almost didn’t hear her over his own thoughts.
“Let’s go over here and have a seat. You were looking a little off, so I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he told her as he steered them toward a duo of red-painted benches situated on the side of Amore between huge shrubs and a quaint little fountain.
The benches faced the water, so they had a good view of the waning sunlight as they sat. Drew immediately went to the far end of the first bench, resting her elbow on the arm and holding her head down.
Each time, since the first time, that Parker had seen Drew, she’d been laughing or smiling or otherwise looking as if living life were the most precious thing to her. She had this kind of carefree spirit that he’d admired, at first, from afar. Whether it was her uncle Walt or the group of older men who sat at his counter for a good part of the evening, shooting the breeze and joking with her, or Delia and Pia having drinks with her—as they had the night they’d spent together—she’d always looked to be enjoying herself. And others looked as if they enjoyed her company. Parker had wanted to be one of them, to be among those lucky enough to spend time with such an affable and attractive female. Especially since he felt lately as though his life were on a downward spiral.
However, Parker did not like the look Drew had now. She was breathing deeply, as if each breath were a struggle, and tiny beads of sweat peppered her forehead, causing the wisps of hair there to stick. And when she looked up at him, her eyes were wide, excited, but her shoulders sagged as if she were carrying a tremendous weight. He was confused and he was worried and he wanted to know what the hell was going on with her.
Still standing, Parker moved until he was in front of Drew. Squatting, he lifted her hands into his again and spoke softly. “You can tell me what’s wrong, Drew. If you’re sick, I’ll get Quinn or I’ll take you to the hospital in Easton. If you just need to get out of here for a while, I can do that, too. Just talk to me,” he pleaded.
“I’m fi—” she started to say before standing abruptly. “I need the bathroom.”
Her words were strained, and Parker stood with her. “Sure. Let’s get you inside.” He walked with her, moving quickly.
When they arrived at the small entryway to Amore, he guided her up the steps and into the foyer of the restaurant. Parker held her hand this time, walking right beside her, waving to Salvatore Gionelli, the owner of the restaurant, as they passed by the hostess quickly.
At the doorway to the ladies’ room, Drew pulled out of his grasp.
“I said I’m fine, Parker,” she told him again with more than a little agitation in her tone.
“You’re obviously not fine,” he countered, trying to keep his voice down because a few other people had come into the restaurant behind them.
Drew dragged her hands over her face and took another deep breath. “I’m trying to go to the bathroom and you’re on my back like you intend to go with me,” she said through gritted teeth.
“I’m worried about you,” he admitted.
She shook her head. “Don’t be. I can take care of myself.”
“I know that, but I’m still worried,” he admitted, taking a step closer.
“I’m fi—” she started to say once more, but Parker put his hand up to her lips to stop her.
“Don’t tell me you’re fine again. You definitely are not fine and I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me what’s going on,” he told her, growing steadily more impatient.
“You want to know what’s wrong, Parker?” she asked almost defiantly. Her shoulders had squared, and she was staring into his eyes as if she were ready to haul off and slap him.
“I do,” he admitted with more than a little caution.
Parker was almost positive Drew wasn’t going to hit him. Physical violence didn’t really fit her personality. Still, her eyes were looking a bit wide, her face was still too pale, and she was now clenching and unclenching her fists at her side. But he refused to back down because now, more than ever, he was certain something was going on with her.
“I’m pregnant, you idiot!” were the last words Parker heard her say before she turned and pushed into the ladies’ room.
* * *
She was the idiot. A raving, nervous, sweating idiot!
Drew wanted to run to her car, to get inside and start the ignition and drive to her house—or possibly off the nearest cliff. She wanted to sink so far into the floor that Parker could never see her again. She wanted to disappear and …
Another pressing need prevailed and she moved quickly into the nearest stall, where the nausea she’d been feeling for the last fifteen minutes finally took over. Minutes later, she felt certain she could stand up straight and that there was nothing left in her stomach to revolt and/or escape. Drew stood, then on second thought leaned against the stall door, trying to steady her breathing.
Her words played over in her mind, as did Parker’s, and she couldn’t help groaning. This was not the way she’d wanted to tell him. It wasn’t what she’d rehearsed. In fact, it was just about the worst possible scenario come true.
“If you stand in there any longer, I’m coming in.”
Oh hell, was he really talking to her through the ladies’ room stall? Of course he was. He was Parker Cantrell, which meant there was nothing that he didn’t believe he could do and get away with.
“Perhaps you missed the sign that said LADIES. It’s in big white letters on the door,” she snapped.
She almost stomped her foot, she was so angry with herself for not following her plan, and at Louisa and Marabelle for holding her up so that she’d run into Parker before she was ready. And, of course, at Parker for … well, for being Parker!
“I know what the door says, Drew. What I’m really interested in is getting a replay of what you said just before you barged through the door.”
He was speaking in a really calm tone. It didn’t have the hint of laughter that his voice normally held. It was still deep and sexy as hell regardless.
A part of her wanted to retract her words and wait patiently until he believed her and left the bathroom before she came out of the stall. There were two problems with that scenario: First, Parker wouldn’t believe her; and second, she’d never been a coward before and she wasn’t about to start now.
So, taking a deep breath, Drew turned and slid the latch on the stall door to the side. Pulling on the door, she watched as Parker moved his well-built body back two steps, allowing her space to move forward. Drew gratefully took the space and headed directly to the sink, where she switched on the water and leaned forward to rinse her mouth. When she finished she was surprised to look into the mirror and see Parker standing behind her, offering her a paper towel.
For what felt like endless seconds, they only stared at each other. Then she turned to face him, accepting the paper towel and drying her hands and mouth. When that was done, Drew accepted that she had no choice but to look up at him once more.
It really wasn’t a great hardship to stare at Parker Cantrell. He had a golden complexion, with hair so close cut that he almost looked bald. His eyebrows were dark, eyes even darker, strong jaw and chiseled arms like a wrestler, chest and abs like a bodybuilder. Today he wore jeans that weren’t tight but
fit his muscled thighs and legs perfectly and a white T-shirt that hugged all the amazing contours and ridges of his upper body. The short sleeves bared a portion of his biceps and his lower arms, roped with thick veins. He looked like a biker, a bad-ass biker boy who was trying his damnedest to keep a tight rein on his control.
Drew took a deep breath and asked, “Do you remember that night we were together?”
If it was possible, his eyes darkened even more. “I can’t seem to think of anything else,” was his reply.
She clasped her hands in front of her and, in an effort to hide her nervousness, silently dared them to move again.
“I doubt either one of us will ever forget that night,” she said quietly.
“What are you trying to tell me, Drew?”
Parker crossed his arms over his massive chest so that he looked even more opposing. Only Drew wasn’t intimidated by him, not in the least. Instead she was more than sorry to realize she was still unabashedly attracted to him.
“I’m trying to tell you that on that night, that hot sultry night…”
“We lay beneath that big old oak tree, staring up at the moon, and decided to sleep together,” he finished for her.
Drew nodded. That’s precisely what they’d done after they’d left Charlie’s. He’d driven them down to Fitzgerald Park on his motorcycle. It had rained earlier that evening, so the air wasn’t as thick with humidity, but the grass was still damp from the quick summer shower. Parker had carried her shoes in his hands as she’d walked around wiggling her toes against the cool blades of grass. They’d stopped at the oak tree and kissed. The kiss had turned so desperate, they’d ended up falling to the ground in an attempt to get each other undressed. Then she’d cracked an eye open, and that’s when she’d seen it. Just over Parker’s shoulder, the summer’s moon had shone so big and bright. He’d paused to see what had grabbed her attention, and they’d stared up at the moon together.
Then she’d invited him back to her house.
“That night I wished on the summer’s moon that you would make love to me,” she told him.