Parker stayed in the back seat, talking.
“He’s thanking the driver and signing off,” Fiona said when she reached Wyatt. Faint circles were under her eyes, not quite hidden by concealer.
“Long night?”
A shadow of a frown crossed her face. “Jet lag.”
“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Parker joined them. His camera hung on a strap around his neck, no telltale red light flashing on it. He dug through a backpack slung over one shoulder, extracted a tablet, and handed the device to Wyatt. “Release form. I should have sent it to you before—I’m sorry—but we can’t roll until you sign it.”
Wyatt took the tablet but didn’t look at the screen. “Why do I need a release form if I’m not going to be on camera?”
“Read it. You’re not granting permission for me to use pre-recorded footage, but it indemnifies me if you appear on live clips, as long as I do everything within reasonable expectation to avoid that happening.”
Wyatt was impressed with the professionalism and attention to detail, especially after he scanned the short but precise contract. He shouldn’t be surprised, though. Even if Parker had fun doing this, it was his livelihood. “I want the option to look this over more in depth later, and modify it if I need to.” As he spoke, he signed.
“That’s fine, as long as you understand a signature now applies to the live shooting I do today.”
“Got it.” Wyatt handed him back the tablet. “Are we ready to go inside, or do you need to warmup first? Or whatever you do?” He knew what Parker did. Every sign-on was a variation on a standard.
“Give me a second. And if I’m trying not to film you, you have to make an effort to stay out of the shots.”
That seemed fair.
Parker introduced the area to his viewers, then panned across the front of the building and to Fiona, before turning the camera back on himself.
Wyatt could see how avoiding being on screen could get old fast. He’d need to figure an alternative.
The building was under restoration, but parts of it remained open to the public. Because of the gorgeous stained glass, it was as much a tourist attraction as it was a church.
They strolled up the front walk.
“Whoa.” Parker’s exclamation made Wyatt pause.
“What’s up?” Wyatt asked.
“Don’t you catch fire if you step foot inside a church?”
Fiona laughed, but clamped her lips together when Wyatt raised his eyebrow. “It was funny.” She shrugged.
“All right. It was.” Wyatt opened the door. “But is it considered a sin if I don’t feel guilt about it?”
Fiona brushed past him. “I don’t think it’s up for personal interpretation. The seven deadly sins are fairly well defined.”
“In that case, I’m taking you both with me.” He followed her into the building.
“I wish you could have seen that, folks,” Parker said from behind. “Our faceless tour guide vanished in a plume of ash and smoke. I’d show you the remains, but I think that qualifies as putting him on screen.”
“No comeback.” Wyatt chuckled. This was so much better than the aggravation Parker projected toward him in the past.
Fiona skipped back out to grab Parker’s arm. “Come on. I want to see this before the sun is gone. Or at least this decade.”
Wyatt moved aside as they both joined him. He’d seen the sunlight streaming through the glass before. It was stunning and the reason he’d picked this time of day to visit.
He was more interested in watching Fiona’s and Parker’s reactions.
She made the softest oh sound.
“This is amazing.” Awe filled Parker’s voice, and he panned the camera around the building. “I’m not even going to try to describe it. You can see it for yourselves.”
“It’s beautiful.” Fiona looked at Wyatt. She spun away and wandered through the chapel, brushing her fingers over hand-carved designs in the pews, meandering toward the windows, and pausing.
Parker followed. The few words he spoke were reverent and hushed.
Wyatt had been here more times than he could count. Philly was a regular stop for work, and this place was one of the few that filled him with a sense of peace. Though not as much now, with the renovations happening.
However, it had been a while since he saw the structure through fresh eyes. Watching Parker and Fiona explore breathed new life into the historic beauty.
Fiona approached the confessional booths, while Parker filmed something else. Wyatt wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him. He waited until Parker was paying attention, then hovered his mouth near her ear. Her soft scent filled his head and teased him.
“He can’t hear me,” Wyatt whispered. “So I can say anything I want, and he’ll fill in the blanks.” He kept the teasing in his voice and was rewarded with an impish smile. “For instance, I can nod at the confessional, and he’ll assume the worst.”
Fiona blushed. “No, he won’t.” Her response was as soft as Wyatt’s.
Parker turned the camera on himself. “Our faceless guide knows this is a PG show, and is pushing his luck. In a church, no less. How unfair is that?”
“See?” Wyatt said in a normal tone and winked at Fiona.
Fiona laughed and pulled away. “Don’t go getting any ideas. I’m sweet and innocent and not breaking any ratings rules.”
Wyatt couldn’t suppress his snort of disbelief.
“Nick, if you’re watching, she totally is. Sweet and innocent, that is. I promise no one is corrupting your sister.” Parker kept the shot trained on himself.
“Because she doesn’t need any help,” Wyatt teased.
“Hush.” There was no force behind Fiona’s retort.
Parker shook his head. “All right. Now that the tour has broken down, we’re moving on.” He continued to film the interior but headed toward the exit.
Wyatt’s amusement faded a shade. Getting to know Fiona a little was simple. She was genuine. Parker was more difficult to crack, and a large part of it was that fucking camera. He’d cultivated a one-way personality for viewers. He didn’t intend to interact, only project.
Did Parker realize he was keeping the world at arm’s length, despite spending so much time exploring it? He must have at least a little bit of an idea. Wyatt hung back, watching and musing, while Parker and Fiona wrapped up the live feed.
The loudest thought in his head—and the one he didn’t have an answer for—was, Why do you care whether Parker has any level of self-awareness? In fact, why was Wyatt lingering on any consideration beyond enjoying this moment, and the satisfaction he’d get when he landed the Grammie’s contract?
Because I am.
FIONA SAT NEXT TO PARKER at the booth in the back of the diner Wyatt recommended for dinner. He was across from them. Even in a casual place like this—or maybe because of the casual atmosphere—he held himself with a breathtaking elegance. His suit, his posture, the shadow of a beard darkening his chin—it was intimidating and nothing like Parker.
Who had been sweet and stayed close since she swore she saw rose-guy in the hotel last night. She was pretty sure Parker didn’t believe her, but his presence was comforting. She twisted in her seat to rest one leg on the bench and press it against his thigh. The contact was as nice as being able to see both men while they spoke.
They’d finished their meals, and were poking at free refills on soda while they talked.
“Hot-seat time,” Wyatt said. He was no-soda-for-me-coffee-black kind of guy. Go figure. “Parker gets to be on the other side of the camera.”
Parker frowned. “How so?”
“You don’t drive the questions. We do.”
“We?” Fiona hadn’t expect that.
Wyatt looked at her. “You know more about him, so you have to help make sure I’m asking in the right direction.”
Interesting. How did they go from a bland discussion about the weather in different parts of the world to this? “Right dir
ection for what?”
“Everything.”
Parker shook his head, and his smile looked strained. “That’s not a direction, and you don’t want to know everything.”
“Not today.” Wyatt agreed. “But I’m looking for a roadmap. A place to start.”
“Do I get the same in return?” Parker asked.
Fiona thought it was a fair question. Then again, Parker wasn’t an enigma; Wyatt was.
“Depends on how observant you are.” Wyatt topped off his coffee from the pot the waitress had left him, then leaned in, forearms on the table. “You game?”
“Ask away.” Challenge lined Parker’s voice.
“We’ll start easy. How long have you known you were bisexual?”
Fiona didn’t expect a question like this. Then again, he wasn’t going to ask something like, What’s your favorite color? That would be too obvious. “That’s starting easy?” she asked.
“Isn’t it?” Wyatt kept his gaze on Parker.
Parker smirked. “It’s not some sort of deep, dark secret. I don’t think I’ve ever not known. Rather, I was attracted to both sexes growing up. My best friend... s were female, so it didn’t occur to me for a long time that checking out guys with them might be considered weird.”
The line of questions brought back a rush of the past for Fiona. She didn’t want to linger on his hesitation around the friends or the past-tense were, so she grabbed something else. “Remember Clint?”
“Oh fuck. That was a mess.” Parker scrubbed his face.
Wyatt leaned in closer. “Do tell.”
Fiona should have kept it to herself, but Parker didn’t seem to mind her bringing it up, so she picked up the story. “He was the only male cheerleader in school. Everyone assumed he was gay—including himself.”
“I asked him out,” Parker said. “I can’t honestly say if I was attracted to him. He was hot, and a total douche. But he was also the only other guy in school who was openly into guys, so... I had to start somewhere, you know? It was a disaster. The night started out okay, until we got to the making out. He wasn’t into it at all. I got teased for”—he scrunched up his face—“pretty much the entire rest of the year. I was the guy who turned Clint straight.”
Wyatt chuckled. “You seem to have come out of it okay.”
“Nope. Scarred for life.” Parker’s retort was playful. “Seriously, though, I hated it then. Looking back, I’m glad I took the risk. What about you? When did you know?”
Fiona expected Wyatt to deflect.
He sipped his drink, brow furrowed in thought, then set the mug down. “I wasn’t as insightful and wise in my youth. Don’t know if it was the difference in media and culture, or self-denial. But I did it like any normal guy. Got drunk in college and made out with a fraternity brother who denied after that it ever happened.”
It sounded like a sad story, but Fiona caught the emphasis. “You’re not normal.”
“I’m hurt.” Wyatt sounded anything but.
Parker rested a hand on Fiona’s calf. That he did it casually and without hesitation made her smile. “She’s right,” he said. “You spend too much time watching and recognizing, to be one of the normals.”
A frown ghosted across Wyatt’s face. “You’re one to talk. Except you’re filtering your observations through a lens.”
The words had a bite. Did the conversation take a downward turn?
“Filter’s not the right word.” If Parker caught the shift, it wasn’t reflected in his tone. “I prefer to see the world through other people’s eyes sometimes.”
“Or most of the time,” Wyatt said.
“If you dig deep enough and try hard to uncover the depths of my soul, do you think you’ll find answers about yourself in there?” Parker locked his gaze on Wyatt’s.
Fiona shook away the desire to hold her breath.
“I already have those answers, and you don’t want to see what’s hiding in there.”
“I might not mind as much as you think,” Parker said.
How the hell did they wind up here? Fiona racked her brain for something to shake things up and get rid of the cloud growing around them.
Chapter Nineteen
The moment he let Parker’s words get to him, Wyatt knew he’d made a mistake—reacted emotionally, rather than stepping back. And then he got defensive, instead of correcting the error. Time to change that. He looked at Fiona. “How about you? When did you know?”
“About Parker’s sexuality? My answer is pretty much identical to like his.”
“That you’re a sex kitten.” That ought to knock her off balance. And if she fumbled, Parker would too.
“No,” Parker said. “You’re not doing that. You can’t toss out a random statement and take the conversation off track.”
Fuck. “My rules. I get to steer.”
“And you tasked me with making sure you pointed things in a good direction.” Fiona’s cheeks were pink, but there was no shyness in her voice. “You’re asking a lot for someone who’s not willing to give in return, but I’ll answer your question. I didn’t wake up one day and say, Hey. Kinky sex sounds like fun. It’s taken years and a lot of pushing past indoctrination, to even start to be okay with it.”
“See? Not so hard.” Wyatt wasn’t making this better. He didn’t like not being in control of the conversation.
Parker shook his head. “Nope. Not nearly as hard as you’re working to keep us from talking about you.”
“What do you want to know? I’m an open book, though a couple of the pages might be stuck together.” Wyatt hid his wince at the last bit. A casual joke. An attempt at light humor. Also, another blatant distraction.
“Why are you here?” Fiona asked.
Concern flashed through him, and his brain began dissecting the question before he even registered he was doing it. He needed to stop responding impulsively, stop over-analyzing, and stop assuming they knew anything about his background beyond what he told them. “Here? Because we wanted dinner.”
“Nice. Why are you showing a couple of kids around Philadelphia?” Parker said.
Kids. He might have thought they were immature when he met them, but they weren’t kids. He was fascinated by how much they picked up on. “You needed a hook for your channel, and I know the town.” The canned answers made it easier to slide back into a casual posture.
“You met us in a hotel bar.” Fiona straightened on the bench, turning her body toward him.
Parker nodded. “It didn’t matter that we were together. You didn’t hesitate.”
“You’re attractive. Both of you. You said you weren’t a couple—which, by the way, anyone who’s paying attention can see is something you only tell yourselves.”
Fiona didn’t flinch. “After that fell apart, and you ran into us in the airport, you randomly handed me a business card. Which is a personal card, and not for your actual job. That didn’t escape me. And then you chatted me up on the plane.”
An accurate rundown of the situation, but when they laid it out like that, it didn’t seem so innocent. Why hadn’t he expected them to be curious about the string of coincidences? Because most people wouldn’t give it this much thought. “You looked bored, and I wanted company.”
“And now we’re here. Half a country away from home base, and the guy who wasn’t even a one-night stand is our tour guide. Why are you here?” Fiona asked again.
“I told Parker why. It’s about the sex. It’s good. It’s fun. Why the fuck not?”
Parker shook his head. “If it was just about the sex, you’d hand over a room number, say bring the lube, and unpack the blindfold.”
They were relentless, and Wyatt was losing track of why he was fighting this conversation. “You said it yourself—I like to observe, and you make for nice scenery.”
“What was it you told me? Lying to get laid isn’t worth the effort?” Parker said.
“Not quite my words, and I’m not lying. This is deviance. Lust. Need. Letting the antic
ipation build. A little bit of fun sprinkled in with the wham and the bam.” Fuck. He sounded like he was making excuses. Why couldn’t he come up with something short and sweet, besides, I’m here to secure my job, and you’re the chess pieces?
“Because it’s about the sex.” Fiona mimicked him.
That wouldn’t do at all.
“Because from that very first night, you’ve worked really hard to convince us you’re the bad guy,” Parker added.
Wyatt definitely was, but not in the way they were twisting things. He didn’t like balancing on this cusp of telling them everything. Correction—he hated that it was even a consideration. He drew in focus and locked his defensive walls back into place, then looked Parker in the eye. “I’m every bit the wolf I told you I am. I don’t care if you think that’s a cheesy line.” His voice was steel. “It doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy your company.” Wrong. That wasn’t emotionally detached. No, it was okay. He could work with it. “The intellect is certainly a turn-on, and I don’t see why just sex has to replace friendly conversation. Make no mistake—at the end of the week, we go our separate ways.”
“Why are you trying so hard?” Fiona’s soft question wrenched his thoughts out of alignment again.
“To what?”
“To reinforce this persona of I don’t care. How emotionally immature is that?”
Ouch. A retort slid to the tip of his tongue, about their habits. The way they kept each other at arm’s length. The emotional scars they didn’t hide at all. But that would prove her point. “I care.”
“Because we all have an intellectual connection,” Parker said.
That made everything sound so cold. Then again, that was the point. “Because you’re human beings.”
“There’s just no romance,” Fiona added.
“Exactly.” Wyatt wasn’t sure how, but things were deescalating. What the fuck had happened? “I liked you two better when you were uncertain and dancing around each other.”
“No you didn’t. This is much better. You like the challenge.” Fiona smiled. Fuck it all—why did he enjoy that sight so much?
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