“What are you changing?” The warmth of his breath skimmed along her cheek.
She bit the inside of her cheek and fought against her need to lock her knees.
“The design is off, so I focused on building it, figuring I could just adjust the carving after.”
“Baby, you’re fucking amazing with all of this. Where are you adjusting it?”
Tears pricked her eyes, and she swallowed hard. No one since Reggie had shown interest in her abilities. Aside from the customers, of course. But Reggie had taught her woodworking; it was different hearing praise from Parker.
After she finished, he plucked the paper from her hand and placed it atop the table, then faced her completely. “Can I tell you something?”
How the hell was she supposed to think straight when he was standing before her damn near naked? Skimming him with her gaze, she lingered at the happy trail leading below the waistband of his pants and down to the definite ridge. How long, how thick, how much pleasure it could bring her.
Heat coursed, and she swallowed hard a few times.
“Sure.”
He pushed her chin up with one finger. “Up here, baby.” His incredible eyes twinkled with amusement.
Oh, that’s just fucking embarrassing. She blinked as if he hadn’t had to redirect her gaze. With a haughty sniff, she cocked an eyebrow. “What did you want to say?”
His grin was 100 percent born of the devil. “So much I want to say.” A blatant roving of his eyes over her. “But this is about your talent. I watch you, and I just can’t believe how you can take that”—he gestured to the wood he’d just unloaded—“and turn it into this. Then with the carvings. I meant it the first time I said it. Fucking incredible.”
She flushed from his praise. “Thank you.”
“Come on.”
“Where?”
“So suspicious. I’m taking you out to dinner. You’ve worked hard. I almost worked hard. I mean, I did at PT. Cullen is with his mom tonight. Come on.”
Her gut soured at the mention of Cullen being with Gemma. A mental reprimand to remind herself that he was safe with his own mother. Wasn’t he?
“I’m not going to dinner like this.”
He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Want to share a shower?”
“Yes, yes, I do.” Wickedness spread over his features, threatening to pull the air from her lungs. “But,” she added, holding up a hand, “no.”
“No?” He gripped the sides of her shirt, pulling her closer. “I’m pretty fucking sure I’m a man who showers with his sexy fiancée.”
“That’s a ruse. For when people are watching. We shower separately.” She removed his hands and stepped back. “You go ahead. I want to finish up here first.”
He watched her for a few charged moments, but she wasn’t sure what to make of his expression. He gave a sharp nod and spun around, striding to the door.
Damn man looked as good going as he did coming.
She blinked, and he was right back in her space. He hauled her up by her arms and kissed her. Pushed his tongue deep into her mouth, and she welcomed him with a whimper of surrender. Their tongues danced together until he released her and vanished back into the house, the door closing silently behind him.
Skylar leaned against the workbench, heart pounding behind her ribs. Her hands shook as she reached for the paper and used her foot to hook the stool and bring it to where she could use it.
Damn good ruse.
About an hour later, they walked side by side down the sidewalk near a park. Not touching, but close enough she could feel his heat.
“What are you thinking?”
“How hot you are.” She smacked her face with her hand and groaned. “I meant how warm you feel. Oh, fuck it. I’m not saying another word.”
His deep laugh had her smiling despite her embarrassment. “Thank you.”
“Let it go,” she groused, wishing he didn’t have the ability to turn her into a lovestruck fool who couldn’t string two words together correctly.
“Hey, I just asked what you were thinking. You were the one who brought all my hotness into the conversation.”
His humor never failed to make her smile. “I thought you were feeding me.”
“I am. And here we are.” He stopped and she followed his finger to the old, dented white-and-gray hot dog truck parked along the street. Bartlett’s Hot Dogs.
“Really? A food truck?”
“Too good to eat at one?”
“No, I’m not, but I could have done hot dogs at home.”
He slid a hand around her waist, his fingers dipping beneath the exposed edge of her overalls in the back, brushing against her bare skin. She prayed her nipples weren’t visible behind her shirt, because each touch he gave her got that reaction.
“Not like these. Come on, live a little.”
“Don’t be issuing challenges like that. Let’s go.”
He gestured with his hand. “Ladies first.”
She didn’t wait for him, just headed for the truck.
…
Parker trailed behind Skylar. One, he could make sure she was safe; that was just his nature to protect, and it was doubly so when it was his woman.
What the fuck? Mine?
Yes, she was his, whether or not either of them wanted to acknowledge the fact.
Reason two, so he could stare at her ass, which was one of her best features. He was an ass man and, damn, did she have one he loved touching. Now he just needed to get her into bed and touch it even more.
Over her head, he waved at Seamus, owner and sole proprietor of the food truck. He’d had it for years, and when Parker had first moved to the area, he’d met Seamus and they’d become fast friends.
“Seamus,” he said.
“Parker. How much are you paying this lovely lass to hang out with you? We both know she’s far too good for you.”
He flexed his fingers against her side. “I made her promise not to disclose how much. Whatever she wants and my usual. Please.”
While she looked over the menu, he caught up with Seamus and watched Skylar. No pretense, he should have known she wouldn’t have an issue with eating here. There wasn’t a more down-to-earth woman that he knew.
“Okay,” she said, breaking into their conversation. “I’ll take the beer dog.”
Seamus grinned and nodded. “Coming right up. You picked a winner, Parker. Don’t mess this up.”
“I’m marrying this one,” he said without even thinking this man wasn’t someone he’d run into soon and didn’t need to tell about his fake fiancée. And yet the words fell easily from his lips.
Seamus paused. His sharp gray eyes flickered between the two of them. Parker risked cutting his gaze to Skylar, who didn’t seem all that perturbed by his announcement.
“Lucky bastard. Dogs will be up in a few.” Parker stepped forward to pay and Seamus waved him off. “Not necessary, son. You want to pay me, get your woman a ring. Some men may think she’s still available without that particular piece of jewelry.”
He bit back a growl. “We haven’t had time to pick one out.”
“Food’s up,” Seamus said.
Parker reached around Skylar. “Thanks, man.”
“Anytime. Bring this beauty back anytime.” The man waggled his bushy eyebrows. “Better yet, come without him. I’ll show you how to man a grill.”
Her body moved as she laughed, brushing against him. “I may take you up on that, Mr. Seamus. Thank you. It smells delicious.”
“Want to sit and eat or walk along the water?” he asked, handing her the beer cheese-and-bacon-topped hot dog in a potato bun.
“Walk.” She took two steps and paused. “Unless you’d rather sit. I know you had PT earlier today, but not sure how sore you are.”
He despised the fact that
she was thinking he couldn’t handle walking with her if she wanted and had to bite back a response. He wasn’t an invalid. Was this part of the reason she didn’t want to take their relationship to another level?
“I’ll be fine.” Parker fought off a wince at the harsh edge to his words.
She held his gaze, blinked, and took a bite of her hot dog. Those thick lashes fluttered as her eyes nearly closed in bliss. “Okay, oh my God, and holy fuck, this is incredible.”
His lips kicked up. “I know.”
“I should kill you for this, you know. Now I’ll be down here all the time and eating my weight in hot dogs.”
He used his thumb to capture the bit of cheese in the corner of her mouth. “Just have to make sure you have a way to work it all off. I have some ideas we can do together.”
Her eyes twinkled, and he loved that she wasn’t holding a grudge for his attitude. “Mr. Seamus does have a wicked accent. That may just be enough.”
“Skylar,” he rumbled, taking a step closer to her.
“Don’t bother me, I’m eating.” She plopped her sweet ass on the edge of the bench and dug back into her food, swiping her fries through the ketchup pooled in the corner of the red-and-white container.
“What about walking?”
“Go ahead.” She waved a hand at him. “No one said this was damn-near-orgasmic food. I’m not going anywhere.”
Straddling the bench, he put his drink and container down as well. “Admission time: I don’t think I’ve been jealous of a hot dog before.”
She grinned. Parker couldn’t explain how happy he was she didn’t simper and only claim to eat salads in front of a man. She was appreciating the fuck out of what she ate, and he loved it.
They made short work of their food, not talking, just enjoying. Him probably a bit more, because each time she put those lips around her hot dog, his cock jerked hard in his pants. Her laugh fell like diamonds on a velvet surface, and God help him, he wanted to spirit her away and lock her somewhere nothing or no one could hurt her. Together they rose and tossed their trash.
She waved to Seamus and half trotted, half jogged back to his side. “That was amazing. Thank you.”
“Come on,” he said, unwilling to let this be over. “One more thing to do.”
She crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow, suspicion raised. “We had dinner, Parker. What’s your angle?”
He took her hand. “Come on.”
They made their way to the other side of the parking area to where a miniature golf spot was.
“Putt-Putt?”
“Scared?” He released her hand. He didn’t believe she’d have any trouble holding the club, even with her injury, given how well she was still able to hold her woodworking tools. Not that he had any objections to standing behind her, pressed tight, to offer up any assistance she might require. He smiled at the thought. Yeah, this was a good idea.
“No.” She walked toward the entrance and glanced over her shoulder. “Are you?”
“I’ll have you know, I excel at this.”
She laughed and waited for him to catch up. “I’m sure you do. A game where you get to hold and swing your stick. Sounds just up your alley. So you’ve been debauching women all over the world at miniature golf courses?”
He winked. “Not yet, and I’m not even going to touch the ‘stick’ comment.”
“That’d be a first,” she muttered with humor. He popped her on the ass.
Parker paid, and they got their clubs and balls. She carried hers in her uninjured hand.
He couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Not the way she undid one of her overall straps, which hung down, offering him an even more tantalizing view of her smooth, unblemished brown skin peeping out from her cutoff ribbed coral shirt. It was motherfucking hell watching her rub her hands together, shake her ass, and line up for a shot. Talk was light and relaxed, not overly deep. And while he wanted to get to know her better, on a much more personal level, he’d take what he could get. She wasn’t one he could force to share, and he wanted her to be comfortable enough with him to do that all on her own.
He’d been right about her hand not bothering her too much to enjoy playing. It was nice to see she was well on the road to recovery. Didn’t hurt she wasn’t bad. At least not until they got to the nautilus shell, where her shots continued to go wide.
“I give up,” she stated after a few more unsuccessful attempts, dropping the club and tossing her hands in the air.
“Really? A little white-and-green shell is going to get you to quit?”
“Normally, no. In this case, hell yes.” When she bent to pick up her club, his cock hardened further. “I’ll see you at the next hole.”
She marched by him, curls bobbing with each step until he grabbed the strap from her overalls, hauling her to a halt.
“I don’t think so.”
“Didn’t ask you,” she commented sullenly.
“Come on, I’ll help you.” He beckoned with his free hand.
“I don’t even think a miracle could help me.”
He took her back with him to the starting point and put her ball down. Moving up behind her, he skimmed his hands down her arms until his palms were against the backs of hers around the handle.
“It’s all about the angle you put it in with.” He kept his mouth close to her ear, whispering.
She trembled but didn’t say anything.
“Watch the far left. You can see the angle is slightly different than the right side. That’s where you want to send the ball. It’ll flow right along that track and into the shell. But you also have to make sure you use the perfect amount of power behind your stroke. Too soft and it won’t get there.”
“Don’t think that will be an issue.”
He prayed for strength. “Too hard, and it’ll hop the ridge and you’ll overshoot.”
She shifted and brushed her ass against his groin, making everything harder. Including his restraint.
“Loosen up. You’re tense.” He kissed her behind the ear. “Trust me to guide you, Skylar. Deep breaths. And swing.”
He did most of it, and he angled the grip at the last moment for her. As soon as it went, she sucked in a breath and leaned forward, eyes on the ball, which had begun to glow in the dark as the sun went down.
Skylar hurried to see where it would come out. A family walked up behind him and waited for their turn.
“I did it!” she cheered, then launched herself at him. Completely wrapped around him, she hugged him and kissed him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She peppered his face with a new kiss in between each thanks. Her excitement was contagious, and he didn’t want it to end.
A continuous mantra of how they were in public looped through his head. After allowing himself one squeeze of her ass, he smiled. “I just helped, but we should let this family play through.”
She closed her eyes. “Oh, that’s embarrassing.” Peeking around him, she said, “I’m sorry.”
“Nonsense,” the father said. “Dates are supposed to be fun.”
Parker allowed them to start taking their shots. Turning his focus back to the woman he held, he put them forehead to forehead. “You’re fucking adorable, Skylar.”
“Put me down.”
“Tell me this is a great date.”
“Not a date.”
He snapped his teeth at her. “Not what he said.”
“He doesn’t know the circumstances that led us to the point we’re at right now.”
“You being in my arms?”
“No, your fiancée,” she bit off.
“You’re engaged?” the daughter asked, with a squeal almost as loud as the one Skylar emitted when she’d made her shot. “That’s so wonderful. I want a big wedding. When’s yours?”
“Carly, leave them alone and let’s go.”
By this time, Skylar had her face hidden against his neck, and he took advantage and peppered little kisses along her shoulder. As they headed off, he put her back on her feet. His leg ached, so perhaps she did have a point earlier about him being sore from PT, but he was more than capable of holding his own. Or her.
Tapping her on the nose, he said, “It’s a date.”
They finished up the night, playing in time with the other family and once more, he got to witness how damn good she was with kids. That had to be why he was so comfortable letting Cullen stay with her.
It was after eleven when he pulled back into the driveway. Their driveway. Catching her yawn in his periphery, he hurried to the other side of the truck after parking and held the door for her.
“Want me to carry you in and put you to bed?” He only partially teased as they walked to the front door. “We can always revisit that mutual beneficial sex while I’m home.”
God, he hoped she’d say yes, or else it was another night of blue balls and a cold shower. He opened the door and let her enter first.
“Sure thing. Yes, Parker Jax, it’s an offer. Stay with me tonight and fuck me. Let’s forget about everything else, aside from—”
He kissed her. Took possession of her mouth and claimed her as his own. He wasn’t taking a chance she was being sarcastic. All rational thought flew out the window. Something reminded him to kick the door shut behind him and lock it.
She stiffened, much like she’d done in the morning when he’d kissed her in front of Mrs. O’Neary. Like then, too, it didn’t last long before she melted into him. He growled low in his throat the second she did.
Skylar wound her arms around him, fingers digging into his sides, bunching up the T-shirt he wore. He wedged a leg between her thighs and lifted enough so she went up on her toes. She ground against him, and his cock pushed insistently against his jeans.
“Off,” she muttered against his lips.
He had no problems complying with that order. Breaking away from her succulent mouth, he used one hand to rip off his shirt and toss it to the side.
Her Marine Next Door Page 7