by Lynn Cooper
Just as she was getting to the good part—the place where the hero was declaring his undying love and perpetual passion—the phone rang.
Glancing at the caller ID, she cursed. Shit!
Before Saffron could greet Wavalee, she started yakking a mile a minute. “Lawd child, you better not have your nose stuck in a book.”
Nearly jumping out of her skin, Saffron felt like a kid who’d been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Dropping the book like a hot potato, she straightened up and stuttered, “Uh—no, ma’am. I’m just getting dressed.”
She could hear the sound of suspicion in Wavalee’s voice. “Well, you better be. You gonna be late if you don’t kick that butt into high gear.”
“I know. I’m on my way to McMillan Park right now,” Saffron said, hopping out of the bed. She cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder while wrestling her way into a fresh T-shirt and pulling on her running shorts.
“Alright then, but you be sure to eat some breakfast. I can’t have you fainting and ruining this fundraiser. The Sundowner wing of Barkingham Palace is counting on you. You know how much those fur babies mean to me, especially that cuddly Sir Barksalot. Now get moving!”
She shoved her feet into a pair of running shoes just as Wavalee disconnected the call.
How could Saffron forget about the charity cross-country marathon? She had pledged her support and committed to running the race to help Wavalee raise money to keep her precious Sir Barksalot and the other senior canines afloat for another year. Barkingham Palace was a place where senior dogs who had outlived their owners could stay and be cared for until they passed away. With the adoption rates for older dogs being less than one percent, those sweet animals needed a haven in which to happily live out their final days.
Glancing at her watch, she cursed. She needed to sign in and be at the starting line in fifteen minutes. Grabbing an apple and a cold chicken leg from the fridge, she sprinted out the door.
PARKER FURROWED HIS BROWS as he drove down Interstate 85 North. He was supposed to be off this weekend, but Chase had come down with the flu last night. Normally, Parker wouldn’t have minded covering for his partner. But this was the Saturday he was scheduled to have brunch with his parents, Tiffany and her folks. He wanted to be there so he could set them all straight. It was past time for them to accept his decision not to take the Medical Board Exam. And, although he didn’t relish the prospect of hurting any of them, they needed to know he wouldn’t be marrying Tiffany either.
When they had first started dating, it had almost seemed preordained. Their parents had met one summer while vacationing at Martha’s Vineyard. Tiffany’s dad Harold, a CEO at Milliken, and Parker’s dad Nate, a renowned cardiologist, ran into each other at the Wharf Pub and became fast friends.
While their simultaneously pregnant wives—Lilian Atlas and Georgia Sloan—chatted over some sweet tea, the men shared a few beers. Later that night, the two couples enjoyed a seafood dinner and a stroll along Katama Beach. As the men talked about their respective occupations, the women picked up seashells. Unfortunately, when Lilian turned over a huge, pink conch shell, angry honeybees rose and swarmed over her. She got stung several times and went into anaphylactic shock. Naturally, Nate jumped into action, delivering a life-saving injection of epinephrine. Once the immediate danger had passed, he and Georgia stayed with the Atlases so Nate could continue to monitor Lilian.
After that night, the couples made a pact to vacation together. Every year for the past thirty years they spent the second week in June on the vineyard. So, in a sense, Tiffany and Parker grew up together. They had become playmates during childhood, friends as teenagers and lovers as young adults. The progression had been natural and expected. Everything had been going according to schedule until Parker dropped out of medical school.
Once he found his true calling as a paramedic, it upset the delicately balanced echo system that had existed between the two families. More importantly, it had become a major bone of contention between him and Tiffany. Even so, his change of vocation wasn’t the biggest wrench in all their plans. At least, not for him. Not now. Meeting Saffron Butler had been a game changer. He no longer wanted to be tied to Tiffany for the sake of nostalgia. He didn’t want to marry her and have children with her because their parents wanted to cling to the tradition of shared vacations on Martha’s Vineyard.
No, he wanted something entirely different. For the past week, he had barely been able to function. Images of Saffron filled his mind day and night. All he could do was pine for her, lust after her and dream about her. He had driven past the Bon Bon Beauty Parlor countless times but couldn’t bring himself to stop. It wouldn’t be right to get involved with her until he had resolved things with Tiffany. When the time came, he wanted to be completely free. To have certain things in place along with a perfectly-laid plan that only included the two of them.
He hated the feeling of being in limbo. His future couldn’t really begin until after the charity cross-country marathon. He was the paramedic assigned in place of Chase to oversee the welfare of the runners. The moment the race was finished, he was going to have a long talk with Tiffany.
With another ten miles left on his drive to MacMillan Park, he decided to use the time to think about how he would break the news to Tiffany. Before he could fully form his first thought, his cell phone rang. He put it on speaker and placed it in a hands-free holder on the dashboard. Safety first. Sadly, he had responded to way too many deadly accidents that were the result of drivers playing with their mobile devices. Parker was a strong believer in keeping both hands on the wheel.
“Hi, dad. What I can do you for?”
“Don’t be flippant, Parker. You know damn well what I want you to do. It’s time for you to stop this nonsense and get down to the business of being a doctor.”
“I can’t do that. I—”
“You can, and you will. The only thing standing between you and a respectable career is a damn exam. The testing center at the Medical University in Charleston has an opening next Saturday. I expect your ass to be there bright and early, sitting in a front row seat with your pencils sharpened.”
“I already have a respectable career. I—”
“Like hell you do! You have a job that requires six months training—a monkey could do it. Do you know how disgraceful that is to me and your mother? For God’s sake son, you went to medical school. By all standards, you’re already a doctor. Yet, for some stubborn-ass reason, you insist on being a glorified chauffeur.”
It was all Parker could do not to turn the sirens on and speed to his parents’ condo. At the moment, he wanted nothing more than to punch his dad in the mouth.
“Careful, Dr. Sloan. If it weren’t for us monkeys, many of your patients would never make it to the hospital for you to play God.”
Parker was surprised by the silence on the other end of the phone. When his dad spoke again, his voice was a little less condescending.
“Look son, paramedics play a pivotal role in the medical community. But it’s not the role you were born to play. The sooner you accept that, the sooner we can all move on with our lives. The Atlases will be joining us for dinner this evening. I expect you to be there. It’s time for you to propose to Tiffany. I want the two of you to set a date. Your mother and I will throw you an engagement party on Martha’s Vineyard. One fitting for a doctor and his bride-to-be.”
Parker ended the call. Anything else he had to say on the matter was best said in person.
SAFFRON PINNED THE NUMBER 35 to the front of her bright-yellow T-shirt. The color was in perfect contrast to her light mocha skin. Her mama had been lily white, but her daddy was as dark as a starless night. She knew her skin tone was a mix of the two, but it wasn’t until after Starla died that Saffron found a picture of him. It had been tucked behind a loose board on the back wall of her mama’s bedroom.
She still didn’t know her daddy’s name and, according to Wavalee, Starla probably didn’t either.<
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None of it really mattered now anyway. Saffron turned out pretty damn good despite her parents. The only real scars she carried were emotional ones, and those were in the form of trust issues. All the time she was growing up, she vowed to never let any man do to her what had been done to her mama. No matter how lonely she got, she promised herself she wouldn’t fall prey to a fast and furious love affair that could leave her broken. She didn’t want what happened to Starla to happen to her. No man was worth that.
As she took her place at the starting line, she found herself wishing Wavalee was there to cheer her on. But, bless her heart, she was still fighting a nasty springtime cold which was a whole different animal when it came to older folks. Saffron could hear how nasally and congested she had sounded on the phone.
Truthfully, Saffron would have rather been taking care of Wavalee than running. But, all the ladies from the beauty parlor had made their pledges, and she needed to honor her commitment. Raising money for the senior dogs was super- important to Wavalee and, therefore, super- important to Saffron.
Taking a deep breath of determination, she did a few squats to warm up her muscles. They were part of a long-time ritual she performed before every run. In high school, Saffron was on the relay team. She was an excellent runner and brought her team to victory many times. Along with reading, running helped her to deal with her turbulent childhood.
Despite gaining a considerable amount of weight due to insulin resistance—the culprit behind her hypoglycemia—she continued to exercise on a regular basis. She might never be a Skinny Minnie again, but her health was paramount. She believed a body should do everything within its power to stay well.
It felt good to stretch her hamstrings. She was focused and ready to run. At the sound of the starter pistol, she bolted forward. But before her right foot could make solid contact with the earth, she spotted an unsettling shadow in her peripheral vision. Her ankle turned at an awkward angle, and she tumbled rather ungraciously to the ground.
Luckily, the other participants had sprinted off into the surrounding woods. No one except the man of her dreams seemed to notice she had fallen. Despite her embarrassment, Parker Sloan was a sight for her sore eyes.
Looking up at him, she asked, “Why are you here?”
“To pick you up,” he said, lifting her with ease.
The shock of seeing him again and being encased in his strong arms was making her feel lightheaded. When she spoke, her words came out in a breathless whisper. “If you don’t set me down soon, you’re going to strain your milk. I’m a little on the heavy side, you know.”
He winked at her. “No, I don’t know. To me, you’re absolutely perfect. I could carry you like this all day long. I love how you feel all warm and soft, pressed against my chest. Don’t you?”
Saffron could barely think much less speak after such a sweet and sexy declaration. So she simply snuggled closer, burying her face in his neck.
He chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
She could feel his rich laughter clear to her toes. The vibrations fluttered over her heart like a feather.
Raising her head, she gazed dreamily into his eyes. “Where are you taking me?”
“Some place private.”
“Good luck with that. We’re outdoors on nature’s stage for all the world to see.”
“Not for long, my lady.”
Although she knew it was merely a turn of phrase, she couldn’t help but shiver at the possessive expression. In a moment like this, it was hard not to long for the thing she had always been most afraid of.
As she steeled her resolve of resistance, determining not to let this man get too close too fast, Parker beat a path to the back of his ambulance. Nodding toward the doors, he said, “I kinda have my hands full at the moment. Be a doll, and lift the handle on the right for me.”
When she did, the door slowly swung outward.
She watched with lusty admiration as he shouldered his way inside and gently lay her on a well-padded gurney.
Quickly, she straightened the hem of her running shorts while he closed the doors behind them.
Sitting down on a bench across from her, he gave her a panty-melting smile and said, “Alone at last.”
Feeling a little flushed and flustered, Saffron tried to deflect his attentions. “Shouldn’t you be doing something paramedical like putting a cold pack on my ankle?”
His eyes burned into hers. “Sure, I’d be glad to. It is looking a little hot and swollen.”
She blushed, starring at the bulge in his crotch. “It’s not the only thing.”
He cleared his throat. “Touché. But I’m afraid it’s going to take more than ice to bring that swelling down.”
Saffron knew she should quit while she was ahead, but their sexy banter was turning her on. She didn’t want it to end. “Like what?”
She sucked in a sharp breath when he leaned forward, placing a strong hand on her ankle. Her heart nearly pounded out of her chest as he held her gaze, his fingers lightly caressing her skin.
“Like you and your sweet pussy.”
God help her, had he really said that?
Her mouth couldn’t form a response. She felt faint when he pressed his hot palm flush against her flesh. She couldn’t suppress a moan of need as it traveled up her calf, past her knee and over her thigh. She tried to push his hand away, but it wouldn’t budge. His boldness both scared and aroused her at the same time.
The blunt tips of his fingers danced along the edge of her running shorts. “Tell me, Saffron Butler. Are your panties wet? If I touched you right now, my little bon bon beauty, would I find you completely dry? Unaffected?” he asked in a husky yet teasing tone.
“You wouldn’t dare touch me with all these people milling around,” she whispered.
“Why not? We’re tucked safely inside this ambulance. No one’s paying attention us. We could take this outside, and they’d be too busy hydrating and tending their blisters to notice. These people are fully engaged in a race you’re out of now.”
She might have been sidelined, but her pulse was racing a million miles a minute.
Hyperventilation was closing in on her as his hand slid farther up, slipping under the hem of her shorts, closer to her panties.
Shaking her head, she had to say something to regain control of the situation. “I don’t think this is such a good idea.” Her words sounded weak to her own ears.
“On the contrary, I think it’s the best one I’ve ever had. I can make you come right now, Saffron, and no one will be the wiser.”
She released a shuddering breath. No matter how much she wanted this to be real, it all seemed so unbelievable. Hot paramedics didn’t make passes at big girls like her, did they?
When she said nothing, he pressed her again.
“Let me pleasure you. Please.”
The smoldering desire in his eyes set her nether regions on fire and seared her soul. Knowing she would live to regret it but, having not an ounce of resistance left, she nodded her consent.
Sliding off the bench, he knelt in front of her and kissed a path up her left leg where his hand had previously traveled. When he reached the top of her smooth, creamy, caramel-colored thigh, he pushed the inseam of her shorts to the side, using his shoulders to wedge her legs apart. For several breathtaking moments, his mouth hovered over her panty-clad pussy.
Saffron bucked at the feel of his hot breath against her most private part. She relished the feel of his fingers digging into her hips, holding her steady as he pressed his firm, wet lips against her panties. She couldn’t stifle the cries of pleasure, and her entire body trembled when his tongue lapped her through the flimsy material. Shaking with need, she wove her fingers into his hair and pressed his face firmly against her wanton womanhood.
She was so close to climaxing but couldn’t relax enough to let it happen. No matter how hard she tried to concentrate on the delicious things he was doing with his lips, tongue and teeth, she couldn’t sh
ed the feeling that all of it was too good to be true.
Sure enough, she was right. Seconds before being swept away by what would have been the best orgasm of her life, she heard the latch on the ambulance door click. Jerking free of Parker’s mouth, she quickly shoved him away and crossed her legs to hide the dampness that had gathered there.
She was happy he had quick reflexes. He was able to seat himself back on the bench before rays of sunshine streamed in, putting them in the spotlight.
When the door was fully opened, a petite blonde popped her head inside and focused all of her attention on Parker.
“There you are, darling! Your daddy told us you were stuck here, covering for Chase. What a dreadful way to spend a Saturday,” she crooned, flipping her hair.
Saffron couldn’t tell if it was the bright sunlight or anger squinting Parker’s eyes until he spoke with a cool steeliness laced with restraint.
“My job is never dreadful, Tiffany. In fact, today has been the most pleasant I’ve had in quite a long while.”
Screwing up her face, she glanced at the gurney as if just noticing it. “What’s wrong with her, darling?”
Parker smiled, turning his gaze to Saffron when he answered. “Absolutely nothing.” Then almost as an afterthought, he said, “Tiffany, I’d like for you to meet Saffron Butler, owner of the Bon Bon Beauty Parlor. She—”
“I know,” she cut in, raising her nose in the air as though she had caught a whiff of something unpleasant. “She’s the half-breed, trailer-trash Nigel tried to hire at Curl Up and Dye—one of his smaller salons. She turned him down, but it wasn’t any great loss. I mean, we’ve all heard the rumors that Miss Butler is better than Vidal Sassoon and Mr. Clairol combined. But, I’ve never seen any evidence to support such tall tales.”
Saffron bit the inside of her cheek, using the physical pain to counteract this woman’s hurtful remarks. There was no way in hell she was going to let some snobby socialite see her cry.
To her great surprise, Parker jumped to his feet. All evidence of his earlier desire was gone. Rage had taken its place.