“Here you go.” She slid open the curtain and walked off, leaving Skylar alone with Parker, who lay on the bed scowling. A nurse sat stitching up his arm, and she could see his bandaged feet. He had butterfly bandages on his head and some others on his arms.
“How are you feeling?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “How does it look like I feel right now? I’ve got cuts, bruises, and fucking fractures. This is going to set me back.”
“I’m guessing no concussion? And that’s a good thing, right?”
He narrowed those sexy eyes. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
The nurse flickered her gaze between them before getting back to the task at hand.
Okay, maybe a teensy bit. “I would never enjoy you being injured like this.”
He didn’t even seem concerned about the woman putting a needle in his skin, while her own stomach rebelled with each poke.
Cullen shifted and made small mewls. She rubbed his back beneath the blanket and pressed a kiss to his temple, the soft chocolate hair that smelled of green apple tickling her skin.
“And when it sets me back?”
“I don’t know. You go back to physical therapy and keep working hard. I don’t know what you’re looking for me to say here, Parker. I didn’t leave toys all over your floor. Nor is it my job to make sure your house is cleaned up.”
“So this is my fault because I wasn’t teaching him to put away his toys?”
“Maybe you should instead of allowing him to push through a fence and go to someone else’s yard. He knows to put things away when he works with me in my garage. He’s very smart.”
The blonde’s lips twitched, but she didn’t look away from her work.
He glared at her. “This isn’t my fault.”
She shook her head and readjusted her hold on the boy who’d woken up with their arguing. “It sure isn’t mine. Like I said before, you should learn to pick up your house.”
“They weren’t there when I went to bed.”
Anger rose. “I sure as hell didn’t creep over there after you went to bed to mess around in your house.”
Heat flared in his gaze. “Trust me, if you were in my house as you should have been, or I was in yours, you would have been in bed with me and I guarantee you would sure as fuck have been too tired to pull out toys and leave them on the floor.” He struggled to sit up, and the nurse finishing up his arm let go until he got situated.
“I didn’t realize you had such a hard-on for the placeholder,” Skylar sneered.
“Sir, I need you to hold still.” The nurse’s tone was sharp and unyielding, despite the sparkle in her eyes.
“Finish already,” he bit off before slashing his focus back to Skylar. “You know damn well you’re not the placeholder.”
“Really? Because that’s what it seems like to me. Perhaps ‘babysitter’ is a better word? I’m supposed to watch him at all times, because the woman you knocked up has run off to do whomever, or excuse me, whatever she is supposed to be doing. Didn’t we already have this discussion numerous times before? Of course we have, you are just choosing to ignore them. Which got us to where we are now. No longer a fake couple!”
He lunged forward, and the nurse glared at the two of them. “Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to leave until I finish.”
“Fine,” Skylar ground out. “Happy to.” She got to the door, only to spin back and march to his side, where she laid a quiet and withdrawn Cullen beside his father, then marched out. Ignoring 100 percent his growled, “Skylar, get back here.”
She didn’t stop until the night air smacked her in the face, an abrupt change from the air in the hospital. Rain still fell, and she kept herself under the awning.
Withdrawing her phone, she scrolled through for his parents’ number, which she had in case of an emergency, and called his mom. After making sure she knew Parker and Cullen both were fine, just that they’d need a ride back from the hospital, she hurried to her truck and drove off like the hounds of hell were on her heels.
After she parked in her garage, she went to his house and dropped off the car seat and toys she’d found in her vehicle. Her heart was ripped asunder as she made one final trip across the yards and let herself back in her place.
She accepted she was spiraling down and didn’t know if she’d be able to pull herself up this time. The first time had been hard enough.
Chapter Thirteen
Skylar furiously scrubbed the kitchen floor, doing her damnedest to eradicate every remaining trace of Parker Jax from her home. It had been ten days since she’d told him it was over, and she had dodged him at every chance until he stopped trying.
He’d been fucking persistent. Camping out in front of her house. Leaving her flowers. Calling her. Texting her.
Hell, at one point she’d debated blocking his number, but she couldn’t bring herself to do that. Every night, she pulled up the photo she had of him and Cullen sleeping on the sofa. And each time she did so, her heart broke one more time for what she’d lost. Again.
Futile. That’s what her attempt to rid herself of him and his memories was. The nights on the couch where she worked on her puzzles and he lay with his head in her lap, just enjoying being together. The mornings where he would take care of Alpin because she hadn’t slept well. When he had physical therapy early and she’d walk out to find he’d made her breakfast and just left it there waiting for her. All of that, she missed. He’d burrowed deep in her and clung with a tenacity that refused to let her go.
She was determined to get over this. And him. Every bit of bedding that had been on her bed during a time of Parker and her sharing them, naked, bodies entwined, limbs sliding against one another, had been removed, never to be used again.
The place he made me feel as if I truly meant something to him. Like it wasn’t all a fucking farce.
Her eyes burned, and she ignored the ache in her shoulders, scrubbing harder, determined to take off the top layer, if that’s what it took. All of it was getting disinfected. Even the counters. The many times he’d backed her up to them or sat her on them while he—
“No!”
Thunder boomed. The storm that had been teasing her all evening and early night had finally arrived, announcing that fact in grand fashion. Despite the pain in her heart, she nonetheless smiled when Alpin trotted in from his bed on the covered porch as the skies opened up.
He paused beside her for a pat, then ambled to his raised orthopedic bed and stretched out. She’d made it for him, so getting up or lying down wasn’t a struggle. A sturdy frame with a thick foam covered by heavy fleece. His new favorite bed. Okay, so he now had a few.
She turned on her music, ignoring the late hour, set it to Black Violin, and after giving Alpin two peanut butter treats, got back to work. It wasn’t just a need to cleanse Parker from her world, but also to work through her stress and feelings of failure. This was when she cleaned like this, when she hit this point.
The storm raged, and she cleaned with similar fury. She’d just finished the guest room, cleaning from top to bottom, even changing the scent she had in the wall, before heading back to the kitchen for a well-deserved drink. Her eyes were gritty and she longed to crash, but she refused to wake up again and feel this way.
She wasn’t a wine drinker, but there was something to be said for a nice shot of something stronger. At the cupboard, she ran her assessing gaze over the selection. More drinks in her house now than she’d had before. A sobering thought. Slamming the door on those damn thoughts, she took a deep breath, relishing the fresh scent of rain.
Skylar withdrew two bottles of schnapps and placed them on the countertop. After grabbing a glass, she turned to carry all three items to the couch where she had every intention of indulging and not remembering a damn thing come morning, and froze.
Standing in the open doorway leading to her backyard, dripp
ing water on her light gray flooring, teddy bear in one small hand, was Cullen. His eyes were wide and even with the distance between them, the fear emanating from him was palpable. His tiny body shook.
“Bud, what happened? What are you doing over here?” She damn near sprinted over to him and ignored the sting of pain as her knees hit the floor; one of the bottles toppled over behind her, but she didn’t care.
“Mama,” he sobbed, wrapping his thin arms around her as he buried his face in her neck. The bear dripped cold water down her back. Each clap of thunder had him shaking harder. Even his teeth chattered.
Her heart broke and she rose, keeping him in her arms. She headed straight for the bathroom and got him stripped and wrapped in a dry, thick towel. His blue gaze latched onto her, and he wasn’t releasing her.
“We have to leave Murray here for a bit with your wet clothes.”
Tears still fell from his eyes, and he shivered. “Stay with Mama.”
“Yes, you’re here with me tonight.”
Setting Murray in the sink, she took Cullen to her room, where she stood him on the bed.
He looked so lost and frightened her heart broke all over again. Mute, he tracked her with his gaze as she rooted for an older sweatshirt and swapped it for the towel.
“Better?”
“Hold Mama.”
No way in hell she refused that. The soft scent of his green apple conditioner filled her with a familiar longing she always had holding this boy. Kissing his damp head, she held him as she put his wet clothing and the bear in the dryer. He even felt like Brennen in her arms. They both had slight builds but could, and did, curl up to her so close. Their innocence and trust in her to keep them safe killed her.
Especially since she failed. And since Cullen had to come find her, it wasn’t just once she’d failed with Brennen, but twice, with Cullen.
Thunder boomed, shaking the house, and he whimpered, burying closer. She rubbed his back and sat on the couch, covering them in a blanket.
She hummed along with her music as she held him until he fell asleep. Once she was sure he was out, she got up and went to Parker’s house.
After no answer from her ringing the doorbell, she went into the backyard and entered the house, soaking wet, through the open sliding glass door. Lights were on, and her lip curled over the condition of the house.
Maybe this is why Parker stopped trying to talk to me, because he isn’t home. He’d never allow his house to get to this condition.
Gemma lay sprawled on the couch, and after calling her name twice, she approached. There’d been no response at all.
Drunk, high, or dead. Skylar checked for a pulse and after she found one, left a hastily scribbled note and retreated through the storm to her house and Cullen.
She’d allow herself tonight. Try to convince herself she could continue to live here and see Cullen with his father day after day, knowing she wasn’t going to be in either of their lives.
The tears fell, and she didn’t even wipe them away.
Cullen woke about six and she got him bathed, dressed, and fed. The storm had passed in the wee hours of predawn.
“Come on, Cullen. I have to get you home.”
“Stay with Mama.”
She wished. Holding out her hand, she waited for him to follow the silent order. He took it, and they went out the front door. Anger grew with each step she took, and everything within her rebelled at the fact that she had to leave him here. This woman was an unfit mother.
She knocked and narrowed her eyes when she didn’t answer. Skylar pressed the doorbell and waited, praying for calmness.
Cullen released her hand as the door was yanked open. Skylar raked her gaze over the woman sneering at her.
“What do you want?”
So many things dangled on the tip of her tongue, but she did her best to rein it in. “I brought your son home.” The words were forced out between clenched teeth.
Her expression went from disgust to hurt and, dare she say it, flirtatiousness.
“What’s going on here?”
That explained it. Parker’s deep timbre rolled over her and she locked her knees. Hands off—he’s not yours anymore. Not that he ever had been, but it had been so nice to pretend.
Gemma sniffed. “She is trying to tell me how to raise our son. He’s my son, not hers. Hell, she doesn’t even have a kid.” She all but yanked Cullen from Parker, who’d just picked him up, and held him as if he actually meant something to her. “Is she his mother?”
“No,” Parker said. “She’s not his mother.” He cut his gaze to her, exhaustion, anger, and pain in his blue-green eyes.
Those five words broke her. Even more so than Gemma’s statement.
She turned and walked away without a look back and went inside her house to face her day. Instead of doing any work, she made sure Alpin was taken care of, then headed to her bed and cried.
Late afternoon, she discovered Murray on the couch. She had no desire to go back over there, but her love for Cullen outweighed everything else. Murray in hand, she slowly made her way to the front door for the second time today. With a deep breath, she pushed the doorbell.
A bit of time passed before the door opened and she was face-to-face with Gemma once more. She looked like she’d just rolled out of bed, and not from a bender. Unless it was a sex bender. A worn marine shirt hung off one pale shoulder and fell to midthigh on her.
“You again? Christ. What now?”
She held out the bear, and Gemma snatched it away. The sun glinted off a ring on her finger, and sourness churned in her gut before Skylar reminded herself again, she didn’t have any say over the man in there.
As she began closing the door, Skylar heard Parker say, “Who’s at the door?” his voice low and bedroom deep.
“No one important. Go back to bed and I’ll be right there.”
“Okay.”
Her emotions had been broken as well. He’d apparently moved on like she’d told him to do. At home, she made straight for the bottles she’d intended to drink last night.
She bypassed the empty glass and tipped the bottle of cinnamon schnapps to her lips.
…
Parker braced his hands on the kitchen sink and closed his eyes. Seeing Skylar this morning had been hard as fuck. He’d fucking tried to get her to talk to him, but she’d made that impossible. And short of breaking and entering to force a face-to-face, he had to wait for her. But she was cagy and not at all easy to corner. And he missed the fuck out of her. So it would have been perfect to see her after being on base for the past week, if not for the fact that Gemma had been there. He needed to talk to Skylar, to fight this insane idea she had that this couldn’t work between them. Stop letting her hide from him. He swore she’d been there for him when he’d been in the hospital, but his mother had been the one to bring Cullen and him home. Maybe he’d imagined it, but he didn’t think so. He had to get it all straightened out. Good news was the fall hadn’t set him back with his recovery.
Gemma said Cullen had sneaked through the fence once more. He’d bought it, because he was notorious for doing that. Surely Skylar understood he had to give a bit to Gemma—she held Cullen’s future in her hands. He didn’t like it, but there it was. For a single dad on active duty, to get full custody wasn’t easy, and he didn’t want her to rabbit with his son.
This entire situation had gone to shit. He was angry. Skylar was removing herself from the picture. And Cullen was hurt.
He had to figure out a way for this to work. His love for his son was unquestionable, but he couldn’t ignore the feelings Skylar Radford stirred up. He was going to have to man up and face it all, no matter how he looked doing it.
A childish need for her to hurt like he was owned him, so he’d regurgitated what Gemma said without thinking of the consequences. It didn’t bring him joy—none,
not even a tiny shred—and she strode away without even a farewell to Cullen.
He went inside, hugged his son again, and crashed. The doorbell had woken him, and he’d stumbled out to find Gemma closing the door on someone. Now he was awake and showered.
“Why are you in my shirt?” he asked when she strolled into the kitchen.
She smiled and tucked a blond curl behind her ear. “I needed something quick when the doorbell rang.”
He grunted and looked out the door at Cullen, who played with his handyman workbench.
“Supper will be ready in about an hour,” she said lightly, touching him on the back. Then she moved on, so he didn’t think anything of it.
In the living room, he paused by the end table and frowned as a crumpled piece of paper caught his eye. About to toss it in the trash, he paused when he recognized Skylar’s handwriting.
Heartbeat kicking up, he opened it and read:
Cullen is at my house next door.
I’m keeping him as you are passed out on the couch.
I’ll bring him back in the morning, so don’t bother coming over tonight.
—Skylar
Parker took a deep breath. Then several of them. After he reread the note several times, he allowed his gaze to dart to the mother of his child. He moved toward her with two determined steps before he pulled up. She was an accomplished liar.
Bypassing her, he went outside.
“Papa.” Cullen smiled up at him with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
He returned it, watching his boy work hard at something on his bench. Cullen needed a better one; this one was rickety.
“Got a few moments to talk to me?”
Cullen pushed a hand through his shaggy chocolate-brown hair and with his other, slid the hammer home on his belt.
“’Kay.” The boy picked up the saw and placed it on the hook on the backboard before he withdrew the pencil from behind his ear, stuck his tongue out the side of his mouth, and began to use the straight edge to draw lines on the table. This wasn’t a real table—the station had nothing real to harm him. The main point was his son loved it and would entertain himself for hours as he and Murray made things and talked.
Her Marine Next Door Page 17