Parker Security Complete Series

by Camilla Blake

  “Listen,” I said. “I think you might’ve gotten the wrong idea. I’m not sure what Cole told you, but everything is fine. Cole will be back around the next time I decide to go on a bike ride, which will probably be very soon. He’s done a great job so far.”

  Gareth raised his eyebrows. “Is that so?”

  “Why do you sound so surprised?”

  “No reason. Your mother just wants what’s best for you. I hope you know that. You’re very lucky to have such dedicated parents.”

  He gave the slightest of bows and then continued on his way. Even though Cole was gone, I kept walking to the basketball court. I stepped inside, and my heart started to beat a little faster, just thinking about that kiss.

  “What are you doing?”

  I turned as my mother walked in, a suspicious look on her face. “Oh, hi,” I said. “Nothing. Cole and I had taken a few of the bikes out earlier. We just rode around the city.”

  My mother walked closer to me, eyeing the bikes as she did so. “I know that no one’s going to play basketball in here anytime soon, but it does seem like an awful waste of space to have all these bikes in here.” She coughed. “Anyway. Is everything all right? Gareth said that you seemed upset about something that Cole might have done to you.”

  “I don’t know what Gareth is talking about. Everything is fine. Cole didn’t do anything to me.”

  “I’m surprised that he’s lasted this long. He’s persistent.”

  “I’d think that you would be glad about that. I mean, you guys are the ones insisting I have a bodyguard in the first place.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with people like us taking the necessary precautions. That’s all we’re doing.”

  I tried not to laugh. “People like us?”

  “You know what I mean. I’m going to meet Lillian for a late lunch. Would you care to join us? I’m not sure if Lauren will be there or not.”

  “No, I think I’m all set.”

  “Okay.” My mother turned to go but then stopped. “Do you ever think that you and Ethan will hang out again? Apparently, Trevor told Lillian that he was asking about you.”

  “Probably not,” I said. “If he can’t even ask me himself.”

  My mother made a face. “Oh, Stella. Do you have to be so difficult? He seemed like a perfectly nice gentleman.”

  There was nothing wrong with Ethan, of course, other than the fact that I just knew kissing him would be hardly any different from kissing a lamppost. I wasn’t saying that I thought he’d be a bad kisser or anything—he seemed like the sort of person that was capable of succeeding at anything he did—but that it would be nothing compared to the kiss that Cole and I had shared. Not even close.

  Chapter 15

  Cole

  Beyond all the weird information that had somehow fallen into my lap in the past few days was the fact that I knew I had done something I shouldn’t have. I was employed by the Brookshires to protect Stella, not kiss her. Even if it had been amazingly good. Quite possibly the best kiss I’d ever had. No, definitely the best kiss I’d ever had.

  Yet, what was I supposed to do now? I wasn’t sure. It had been two days and I hadn’t heard anything from Stella, which wasn’t necessarily weird, but considering the circumstances, I wasn’t taking it as a good sign. There was always the possibility that she was waiting for me to text her, but the protocol up until this point had been that she would get in touch first. I needed to talk to someone about it, because I was going to drive myself crazy if I didn’t. I rode around to see if I could find Jeremiah, but he wasn’t around, so then I went down to the Parker Security office. I wasn’t sure who was going to be there, but I hoped someone would. Unfortunately, that someone turned out to be Lena.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” she asked when she saw me. She was sitting at her desk, tapping away on her laptop. She hadn’t even looked up.

  “Hello to you, too,” I said. I peered around the office. “Anyone else here?”

  “No. Drew and Ben are at a meeting with Avery, and Jason had some mystery appointment he had to go to.”

  “Who’s Avery?”

  “The guy that’s organizing that music festival we’re working at in a couple of weeks.”

  “Music festival?” I hadn’t heard anything about this.

  “Yes. He had been working with another security firm but several of the guys were involved in some sort of... oh, I don’t know—how should I put this?—gang-rape situation over the weekend. You didn’t hear about that?”

  “Uh, no, I didn’t hear about any gang rapes.”

  “Well, seeing as this is basically a women’s empowerment music festival—don’t even get me started on the fact that it was organized by a man—it really would be running afoul of everything they supposedly stood for if they worked with a company who employed rapists.”

  “Can I come in?” I had stopped short of crossing the threshold into her office, as if she had it armed with an invisible fence.

  Finally, she looked at me, a withering half glance. “If you must.”

  I sat in the chair opposite her desk. She tapped away at the keys for a few more seconds and then snapped the laptop shut. She pushed it aside and leaned back in her chair, eyeing me.

  “So, I repeat my original query: What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Lena and I had always had something of a brother/sister relationship, in that we were constantly bickering, arguing, and giving each other a hard time. I wasn’t really sure where this came from—it wasn’t as if we had any bad history between us; it wasn’t like one of us had done something unforgivable to the other or anything like that. I think that it had just started because she saw me as an annoying younger doofus, and I’d picked up on that and tried to fill the role accordingly. But underneath it all, I at least wanted to believe that we had genuine friendly feelings toward each other.

  It was kind of hard to tell at the moment, though. Maybe I had just interrupted something really important, and she figured the best way to get me out of here was to humor me for a moment by listening to whatever it was I had to say.

  “There’s a lot wrong at the moment,” I said. “So much so that I don’t even know where to start.”

  “What’s the biggest thing? Start there.”

  That felt almost like a riddle. Because everything about this situation was big: Stella getting those texts. Marty coming clean. The possibility that it was Stella’s dad behind all this! And then, of course, the kiss.

  “I don’t even know where to begin.”

  Lena looked at me closely. “Wow,” she said. “It really must be something. This has to do with that job of yours, doesn’t it?”

  I nodded.

  “What? It’s not going as well as you hoped?”

  “I guess that’s one way of putting it.”

  “And now you want out but you don’t know how to do that?”

  Did I want out of the job? No, not really.

  “Listen,” Lena said. “This isn’t a game of twenty questions. Just tell me what the problem is. I assume you’re here because you wanted to talk to someone—right? You were probably hoping that it was going to be Jason or Ben or even Drew. But nope—as luck would have it, it’s me. And I’m not going to coddle you, Cole; you know that. So, just grow a pair and tell me what the problem is.”

  “I kissed Stella.”

  I didn’t want to tell Lena about the other stuff, at least not yet, because though she’d probably offer good advice, there was also the chance that she’d go to Drew, and then he might say something to Ed. And then Stella would know that I had broken my promise to her.

  Lena nodded. “I see,” she said. “Oh, Cole, when will you learn? That sort of fraternizing with the clients is definitely a big no-no. Why would you do that?”

  “It just happened. I wasn’t even really thinking about doing it—it just seemed like the right thing to do.”

  “You know, I think that’s the same defense one of the security guys f
rom that other company used.”

  I recoiled. “I’m not a rapist.”

  “I’m not saying you are. But you should know better, Cole! We adhere to some pretty strict professional standards. And there’s a reason for that. How do you think it’s going to reflect on this company if word gets out that you’re getting romantically involved with one of our clients? Do you think that is going to reflect well on our business? Do you think that’s the sort of thing that prospective clients are going to be impressed by?”

  I leaned forward and put my head in my hands. “No,” I said. “No, I don’t. And I wasn’t trying to do something that was going to impact the business in a bad way. That wasn’t my intention at all—”

  “It doesn’t matter if that was your intention or not—that’s what could potentially happen. Because you can’t do something like that, Cole. You just can’t.”

  “What should I do, then?”

  “You should go talk to the girl. What’s her name?”

  “Stella.”

  “You should go and apologize to her and tell her that it was a mistake, and that if she would feel more comfortable with you resigning, you will. Maybe you should anyway.”

  “I should resign?”

  That was not what I’d been expecting to hear.

  “Drew hand-picked you for this because he thought you’d be the best man for the job. I mean, to be totally honest, we all figured that she would’ve chased you out of there by now, considering everything that happened with all the guys before you, but... you’ve managed to outlast that. Now I know why.” She shook her head. “I lost fifty bucks because of you.”

  “Because of me?”

  “I gave you a week, tops.”

  “Glad I inspire so much confidence.” I reached out and grabbed one of the pens from the cup holder on Lena’s desk and twisted the cap around. I had way too much nervous energy flowing through me to be able to sit here much longer. “But what should I do?”

  “I already told you. If you think you can’t handle this, you need to resign. If this really was just a mistake—come clean to that. Tell her it’s not going to happen again and that it was a severe error in judgment. Tell her that if she would feel more comfortable with someone else taking over, you’re fine with that. Whether or not you’re actually fine with that.”

  “Do I... do you think I should tell Drew?”

  Lena stretched back in her chair and took a deep breath. “Do I think you should tell Drew... If you want to stay on this job, probably not. I’m not saying lie to him or anything, but he’s probably not going to ask you if you’ve kissed any clients lately.”

  “So, I shouldn’t say anything.”

  “You shouldn’t say anything if you think it’s not going to happen again, if you can promise yourself that you’re going to be a professional from now on and not get involved with a client. Do you think you can do that?”

  I nodded. “Yes. Of course. Absolutely.”

  “Well, I’m certainly not going to wager any more money on this, but... I’d at least like to think you’ve got the self-discipline to stick to your guns.” She nodded briskly. “Now, what else was there?”

  “Nothing,” I said. I couldn’t sit in that chair any longer under Lena’s disapproving gaze. She was right, of course—I either needed to resign or tell Stella that kissing her had been a huge mistake and it would never happen again. She was a client after all. “Thanks for talking. I think I’m going to go take a little ride, think about everything you just said.”

  She nodded and opened her laptop.

  “Thanks again,” I said, standing up to leave.

  “See ya,” she said, not even bothering to look up.

  ***

  I had just left the building when my phone chimed. I pulled it out of my pocket and looked at the screen. It was a text from Stella.

  Hey, it read. Are you available right now? I think we need to talk.

  God, I hated texts sometimes. How was I supposed to take that? Bad news? Good news? There were no emojis, no punctuation to give me any clue. Just black marks on a glowing screen. I gritted my teeth, but typed back a quick response: Sure thing. Where do you want to meet?

  I’m at my house. Here is fine.

  I took a deep breath, tried to conjure up my conversation with Lena. Self-discipline. Sticking to my guns. I just had to go over there and tell Stella that it had been a huge mistake, that it would never happen again, and that if she wanted me gone, then I’d go.

  Okay, I typed back. Be there soon.

  Chapter 16

  Stella

  There was a part of me that felt like a kid on Christmas morning as I waited for Cole to show up. The butterflies swirled, and a smile kept creeping onto my face. My mother had left to play tennis, but I hoped I wouldn’t run into Gareth before Cole got here, because I didn’t want to try to explain to him why I felt so happy.

  I sat on the loveseat in the sitting room so I could see out the window. And then, finally, Cole arrived, on that neat Independent Fabrication bike. He was wearing a pair of dark-red skateboarding shorts and a black T-shirt, and just the sight of him made my stomach do flips. I got up and went down to open the door for him.

  “Hi!” I said.

  “Stella, hey. Okay if I bring this in?”

  “Sure.”

  I stepped back and he pushed the bike in. “So,” he said. “What did you feel like doing today?”

  “I’m not sure. Let’s go up to my room and talk about it.” That hadn’t been my plan—I hadn’t really thought through what my plan was going to be. But if it seemed overly forward, Cole didn’t seem too bothered by it.

  “Sure,” he said. “There’s... there’s something I wanted to talk to you about anyway, and it’s probably better if we had a little privacy.”

  It had been a long time since I’d last had a guy in my room. I felt a little self-conscious as we stepped inside, and I could tell that Cole was somewhat taken aback.

  “Wow,” he said. “This place is bigger than my entire apartment.” His gaze traveled around the room. “It’s nice, though.”

  “It’s all right.”

  He turned to me. “Look,” he said. He couldn’t quite meet my eye, and I started to get the feeling that he wasn’t as excited to see me as I was him. He wasn’t smiling. In fact, he looked rather uncomfortable. Did he not want to be here? Is that what he wanted to talk to me about? “I…” His voice trailed off. He ran a hand through his hair, looked down at his shoes, then up at the ceiling.

  My mind reeled, trying to make sense of every single thing I was feeling. But what was I feeling? It was such a roller coaster of emotions—I’d just gone from being so excited to see him to suddenly wondering if he regretted the whole thing. My instinctive reaction was to shut down, tell him to go to hell, say something else really cutting and malicious—beat him to it. I almost did. But I didn’t want to keep being like that, at least not with Cole.

  “I’m not sorry you kissed me,” I said. “Yes, it might’ve caught me off guard. And maybe I didn’t react the best way I could have. But I’ve been thinking about it almost nonstop since it happened, because I actually really enjoyed it. And wouldn’t mind if it happened again.” A wave of anxiety crashed through me as I said this, because what if he said he was sorry? What if he insisted that it had been a mistake? I almost couldn’t bear the thought of being open with someone just to have them reject me. And he wasn’t saying anything in response, the expression on his face difficult to decipher.

  “Say something,” I said, hating the desperate note in my voice. It would be so much easier just to say something cutting and be done with it! Why was I doing this? It wasn’t like anything good was going to come from it. But I couldn’t just ignore the way I felt with him. It was unlike any feeling I’d ever had with anyone else. I wanted to see if it was for real.

  He looked at me, those eyes of his filled with something like tortured longing. It reminded me of that first night I’d seen him, at
the restaurant, when he’d been sitting there with his family, trying to pretend like he was having a good time, but not quite being able to carry it off. He stepped closer to me.

  “I want to do it again, too,” he said softly.

  I reached out and pulled him toward me, closing the gap between us. “Then do it.” My voice sounded strong and assured, but inside I was a mix of exhilaration and terror. It was like when I’d gone skydiving for the first time, standing at the edge of the plane, knowing that I just needed to gather my courage and get momentum on my side. Because the actual free-fall part would be awesome—it was just getting to that point that was terrifying.

  But I didn’t have to do much after I issued that command—Cole obliged me and leaned down, pressed his lips against mine. He pulled back after a second, though.

  “This isn’t why I came over,” he said, his voice low, more like a growl. “Holy crap, what are you doing to me?”

  “Hopefully nothing you don’t want me to.” There was a flutter of trepidation, anxiety that I was doing the wrong thing—but if this was wrong, how could it feel so right? I felt like I was drawn to him like a magnet, as if there was some inexorable force guiding me, something beyond what my consciousness could reach.

  “What about your parents? I don’t think your mom would like it if—”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “She went to play tennis; she’ll be gone all day. And Dad’s in Istanbul.” I brought my hands up to his face and pulled him toward me again. Mmm, he tasted so good. He groaned softly as the kiss deepened, his tongue gently finding its way into my mouth, my own tongue entwining with his. He had one hand cupping the side of my face, the other behind my head, his fingers gently massaging the base of my skull. I had no idea how long we stood there kissing—it might’ve been a minute, it could’ve been an hour. I wouldn’t have been surprised if someone said it had been a year, because time seemed to stop, and there was nothing more in the whole world than the two of us, and what we were doing, and how it was making me feel. My whole body felt like it was buzzing with happiness, a sort of happiness that I couldn’t remember ever having felt before. Cole’s hands worked their way down, lightly pressing the sides of my neck, my shoulders. He was so attentive with his touch, and my body couldn’t help but respond in kind, melding to his contours. I was like a vine climbing the trunk of a tree. I wanted to consume him. I wanted him to take me. I wanted—