by Layla Hagen
And every secret.
Goose bumps form over my body as I unzip and push down his jeans, leaving him almost naked. Almost. Then I push his underwear down too. He fills me, gentle at first and then hard and raw, the way we both like it. His arms form a shield around me as he slams with all his might against me. As we both cry out our release, I have a wonderful and fulfilling thought, which also scares me: this is a man I could share my life with.
Chapter Twelve
Jessica
It's late afternoon by the time we enter the house, and a familiar smell invades my nostrils.
"Coq au vin, that's a surprise," I say more to myself, because Parker is busy unloading the backpack and there's no one else in the foyer.
We find Helen and Tara in the kitchen, both bent over a thick cookbook.
"You took forever," Helen comments when she notices us, throwing me a furtive glance and smiling.
"Jess is not exactly sporty, so we had to take it slower."
"Thanks for ratting me out," I say, playfully pinching his shoulder.
"Where's Dani?" Parker asks Helen.
"Left for London about two hours ago," she answers.
I chuckle. So she decided to sneak out instead of actually coming up with an excuse for Parker. Sounds like something I would have done in my heyday. Not sure if it’s good or bad in her case, though. Seeing Parker frown, I can sympathize with her decision to not tell him.
"What do you mean she took off?” he growls. “How? Why?"
"Ah, I think she said she was invited to a party—”
"But how could she leave?" Parker runs a hand through his hair. "I drove her here."
Helen folds her arms over her chest, glaring at him. "Trains were invented a while ago, you know?"
Parker swears loudly and Tara actually jumps, looking at him. Helen merely shakes her head and beckons Tara to leave the kitchen with her, muttering, "The coq au vin will take a while before it’s ready."
Parker already has his smartphone attached to his ear.
"She doesn't answer, damn it," Parker says after a minute or so. "Why did she have to take off like that?"
"Relax, Parker. She probably prefers to have fun with friends in some club in London to being here. She didn't seem too keen on coming," I say.
"Look, I am in charge of her. She can't just—”
"In charge? Parker, she's eighteen."
"I don't care how old she is. You are never too old to mess things up." He straightens up, hesitating for a full minute. "She was involved with a weird guy back in California."
"Oh," I say. "I didn't know that."
"James and I are afraid she might do the same here."
"I don't think you have anything to worry about, Parker. Honestly. I saw her friends a few times. They seem to be decent people."
"Dani used to be a really sweet, laid-back girl. A nerd, really. But about six months ago, she decided to, I quote, “reinvent herself.” I thought it was funny in the beginning, but ..."
I tap my fingers on the table nervously. Though Dani hasn't done anything dangerous since we moved in together, I can tell she's trying very hard to be something she isn't. But then again, my yardstick for dangerous things isn't exactly reliable.
"Why the decision to change?" I ask.
"No one really knows what has gotten into her. James tried to talk to her, but even he can't get anything out of her, which is bad because she used to tell him everything. But her decision came about the same time she got involved with that guy, so I’m sure it’s related to him. We're going back to London this instant."
"No, Parker. Cornering her isn't the solution. You'll only alienate her."
"I don't want to risk—”
"How would you have felt if someone tried to keep you on a leash when you were her age?"
Parker lets out a bark of humorless laughter that sends chills down my spine. "I would have liked to see anyone try. But no one cared enough to try." He takes a sharp breath, straightening his shoulders as he strolls away to the window with his back turned to me.
Warmth fills me at his words, and I'd like nothing more than to hug him tightly, but somehow I get the feeling he doesn't want that right now, even though he might need it. Opening a door to the past is an act of strength. Admitting the need for affection takes a different kind of strength altogether.
I feel a rush of affection for his concern for Dani.
"Just because you let her make her own mistakes doesn't mean you don't care about her," I say softly.
"I don't want her to do something she won't be able to fix later on," he growls.
"Have a little faith, will you? Besides, Dani is a good kid. She’s doing summer courses, for God’s sake. They’re optional. College starts in the fall, and instead of partying the summer away, she’s enrolled in classes. She’s still a nerd at heart, and so are the other kids she’s befriended. They’re all taking the same courses."
He turns to me, and to my relief, the corner of his lips lift upward to form a smile. "Fine, Jessica. We'll do it your way." Striding right toward me, he curls an arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. "But you'd better take my mind off the whole thing." I shudder slightly as he tugs at the hem of my shirt, his fingers touching my skin. "Let's go upstairs," he whispers.
"Just let me check on the coq au vin first," I say, unable to help myself. Parker lets me go, chuckling.
"Are you serious?"
"It's so easy to get it wrong," I say defensively.
"There's nothing worse for you than a botched meal, is there?"
"Well there are worse things, but this is right up there with a broken nail or shoe heel," I joke. "Or sex without an orgasm."
"You can scratch that last one off your list," Parker says, his voice dropping an octave. "I assure you it won't happen while you're mine."
"Checking that we won't starve for dinner?" Helen asks, entering the kitchen. "That's probably a good thing. Tara's cooking is a trial and error process that results in errors most of the time." After a pause she adds, "Don't tell her I said that."
"Well, I'll let the two of you save the day," Parker says with a smile.
Helen lets out a deep breath after he leaves the kitchen. "Thank God you managed to calm him down. I was fully expecting Parker to drag all of us back to London."
"He wasn't far from it," I say as I open the oven to inspect the chicken.
Helen shakes her head. "Things are either black or white for him. No gray areas. Either he doesn't give a damn about people, or is fiercely overprotective about those few he does care about."
“Well, I think we can work with that.”
Chapter Thirteen
Jessica
The weekend goes by too quickly, and before I know it, it’s Sunday and Parker is driving me back to the apartment. The first thing I do when we enter the apartment is check on Dani.
She’s sleeping, even though it’s early afternoon, which I assume means that she was out late with her friends yesterday. I can't help wondering why Dani is trying so hard to become a party girl. Everything from her shy nature to her obvious feeling of inadequacy when wearing tight or short clothing makes it clear that she's not that kind of girl.
“She’s sleeping,” I inform Parker, who is waiting in the living room. “But... my nose is an expert at detecting the smell of a person who is hungover, and Dani’s room smells just fine.”
“I’ll take your word. Do you have plans this afternoon?”
“As a matter of fact, there was something I wanted to do this weekend before a certain Brit hijacked my plans.”
“Hijacked, did I? So you didn’t have any fun?”
“I did not say that. I had a lot of fun. Before, the only thing I knew about Worcestershire was that the sauce was made there. Now I know a few things more. I loved it.”
Parker advances toward me like a hunter after his prey. “What exactly did you love about it?”
“The town, the countryside, Helen and Tara.”
“So... the Brit who dragged you there... where does he fit in?”
“Still considering it.”
He drags the tip of his nose across my cheek before kissing the corner of my lips.
“So what were your plans for the weekend before I hijacked them?”
“I had a date,” I say playfully.
Parker tenses, snapping his head back. “This thing between us Jess, it’s not a party. It’s you and me. You’re a beautiful woman, and I imagine you get asked out often, but if we’re giving this a shot, I want us to be exclusive.”
Holy shit. Exclusive dating. I must be dreaming.
Nodding, I explain, “I had a date with London. I have a list of things I want to do in the city. I have a list with London’s prettiest buildings, one with the prettiest streets.”
“You’re mocking me.”
“I am not.”
“There are lists like that out there?”
“It’s a sacrilege that you don’t even know. It’s all on my phone. I was going to track down some buildings this weekend. I have time to pack in one or two this afternoon.”
“Want company?”
I narrow my eyes. “That depends. Are you going to mock them?”
“I shall do no such thing.”
“Then hold on tight for the ride, Parker.”
Our first stop is Liberty’s, a department store on Great Marlborough Street. The Tudor style inspired the façade, and the inside is even more charming. It sells everything from fashion to jewelry to stationery, and floral print fabrics. It’s the first store where I’m actually more interested in the building itself than what it sells. Massive wood staircases lead to the upper floor, and the upper galleries boast beautiful woodwork. The floorboards creak beneath our feet. It’s a surreal experience, almost as if I’ve stepped back in time.
Parker excuses himself while I take some pics, wandering away, and when I finally have my fill of the galleries, I descend to the lower level and find him waiting near the staircase, holding a small bag. He holds it out for me.
“What’s this?”
“I saw you look at it when we came in.”
It’s a bottle of jasmine-scented bubble bath.
“I did look at it. Wow. Thanks. But you didn’t have to buy it for me, Parker.”
“Maybe I bought it for both of us.”
“Explain.”
“You take a bath, send me a pic while I’m on my business trip.”
He leaves tomorrow on a trip until Sunday.
“Dream on, mister,” I tease. “Come on, we have time for one more visit.”
Our next stop is St. Pancras International, a train station adjacent to King’s Cross station. The red brick building is impressive, one of the best examples of Victorian Gothic architecture.
In my opinion, the clock tower is the most beautiful part.
“Did you know they’ve built a flat in the clock tower? You can actually rent it. The ceiling is ten meters high.”
“I didn’t know.”
He takes pictures of me while I make a fool of myself trying to find the best pose of Jess and The Clock Tower, and then he hijacks my pictures with a selfie with both of us, like he did in Worcester.
“You really love London,” he says.
“Yep. But it’s getting late, and you’re leaving early tomorrow, so we should call it a night.”
Parker takes one last selfie of us, then drives me to the apartment.
Dani is still sleeping, and after Parker leaves, I lay out my clothes for tomorrow. For the rest of the evening, I try to think about strategies to improve my boss's opinion of me, but every time I remember his outburst, I hear my father's words, feeding my desperation. "Ye'll end up coming back home, you worthless, ungrateful brat."
Worthless.
That word is synonymous with my name to my father. And until a few months ago, I hadn't done much to change that perception. My job search went surprisingly well. While most of my colleagues in my art and history classes, and Serena herself, struggled to get interviews, I breezed through them. I finally had a chance to put a lifetime of bluffing my way through school and college to good use. Apparently, a good bluffer does not make a competent worker. But I'll be damned if I won't become the best one.
Work is awful on Monday and borderline brutal on Tuesday. On Wednesday I finally snap and tell Mr. Norton to pull out that stick he's got up his ass and shove the report he made me redo for the fifth time inside instead. Instead of firing me the next minute, he apologizes and says he isn't acting like himself these days, then shuts himself in his office. Fiona swears she heard him cry after a courier delivered his divorce papers, but I have to see it before I believe it. He turns back to being an ass in the afternoon anyway, so I don't feel guilty in the slightest.
When I arrive home, Dani is eating some of the pudding I cooked yesterday.
"Sorry," she says with a sheepish grin, "I was starving."
"No problem." I help myself to what is left while Dani becomes engrossed in back and forth texting on her cellphone. "In demand much?"
Her cheeks redden. "Just a friend."
Dani's comment makes me think of how much I miss talking to Serena. Thanks to the time zone difference, Serena is still stuck at work, but maybe I can talk to her for a few minutes. I've been bursting to tell her about Parker. I never told her what happened between us when I was home. Out of shame because he rejected me. I've always hidden shameful things from Serena.
But things have changed now. I hover my finger over the message icon of my screen, thinking whether I should send her a message first, asking her if she has a few minutes. Just seeing the message icon makes me seriously blush, which has a lot to do with the fact that Parker and I have been sexting like crazy all week. He warned me that he’d have no way of calling me during the day, or even the evening, because he's got back-to-back meetings scheduled from the wee hours of the morning until late in the evening. But at night . . . let's just say the hotness level of his texts is enough to give me nightlong steamy dreams. It feels clandestine, too, which makes it even hotter. He won't text me for another few hours though.
I go to my room, light a cigarette, and decide to call Serena. Thankfully, she picks up. I start talking right away.
"I am going to tell you something and I don't want you to interrupt me until I am finished. I think I have something like a huge crush on Parker. I've had it for some time. Since he was in California actually. But then we had a . . . umm . . . fight, and then everything sort of fizzled out. Anyway, we've been together a few times since I moved here." I pause, unsure of what to say next. Unsure of why I called, actually. It's not like I wanted to ask her advice on the matter. Then I realize I just wanted to share this with someone I trust and care for deeply.
I hold my breath, waiting to hear her speak. But it's not her voice that comes through.
"Interesting." The voice belongs to James.
"James," I say, leaping up from my bed so brusquely that I accidentally burn myself with my cigarette. "Fuck," I yelp, rubbing the burned spot. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"You specifically asked not to be interrupted," James says in an amused tone.
"I asked Serena not to interrupt me."
"Actually, you never mentioned her name."
"Wasn't the fact that I called her an indication that I wanted to speak with her? Never mind, why are you answering her cell phone?"
"She's at home, sleeping. She's been sick the past couple of days."
"She's working too much," I say.
"I agree. Look, I can tell her to call you when she wakes up."
“Please do.”
"I think Parker needs someone like you."
I need someone like him, too.
"By the way, there's something I wanted to let you know. Nothing to do with Parker," James says.
"Okay."
"I want to ask Serena to marry me."
I gasp. "Wow, that's wonderful."
; "Really? You sounded like you just had a heart attack," James says, and I detect a slight nervousness in his voice.
"No, you just took me by surprise. I think this is . . . you'll be so happy together. I—”
"Has Serena ever mentioned to you if she. . . er . . . has imagined how she'd like a proposal to be?"
I laugh. "No, James, she hasn't actually. But your ideas for romantic dates have always surpassed everyone's wildest imagination, so I think you're good on your own."
"I'll think about it and run a few ideas by you."
"Sounds like a plan."
Before I get the chance to ask him anything else he says, "Is Dani around? She's not answering her phone."
"Sure. I'll pass her the phone."
"Is she all right?"
"Yes, James," I say, exasperated, as I leave my bed. "She's behaving like any normal college girl."
"She—”
"Yes, Parker told me she got involved with some guy last year that was up to some dangerous stuff, and I have a few things to say to you about that. First, I don't buy that crap. As a big brother, you're genetically programmed to dislike her boyfriends."
"Are you done?" James asks with a hint of anger.
"Yes."
"Then pass the phone to Dani."
Chapter Fourteen
Jessica
Despite my best efforts, by Friday I'm convinced my boss hates me. Fiona insists he just hates all women at the moment because of his wife, but that doesn't appease me. I head to the supermarket after I leave work, returning home with bags of salad, steak, ingredients for crêpes, and other groceries. I plan to make a five-course dinner for Dani and me. Cooking complex dishes usually helps take my mind off things. As does drinking and dancing till the wee hours of the morning. But I don't do that anymore. Disappointment floods me as I receive a text from Dani, informing me she's made other plans for dinner.
When my cell phone buzzes again with an incoming call, my heart flutters. Parker.