“She asked me if I love her.” Admitting this causes me to down the rest of my beer, and then motion for another one.
“Well, do you?” he asks.
And this is going to cause me to lose every ounce of nerve I possess. “Yes, I think I do. That’s fucking crazy, right? We’ve only known each other mere months.”
Owen shrugs. “There are crazier things that happen in this world. I knew from the moment I met Minka, officially anyway, at that party that she was special. Only took me about two weeks to know she was the one, and I was a young guy at that point. I’ve never seen you as happy, or as calm, as you were when Brennan was around. You’re not the type of guy to date around or have a bunch of long relationships. I’m pretty sure the universe was only ever going to send you one woman who could put up with you and make you as much of a cheery guy as she could. That’s Brennan.”
He’s not wrong. There has to be some cosmic reason she was the name I picked when calling a contractor. The way she just barged into my life without permission, it’s the only way I was ever going to let someone close enough to love me.
“But what if I can’t save her? What if he gets out and she melts down even further? How do I turn the love off so that it doesn’t destroy me, too?” This is what I’m most afraid of.
“You don’t. Love is scary, my friend. If there is anything I’ve learned in the years since I met Minka, since we had a child … love terrifies every part of you. How can you care about someone that much and let them walk around in a world that is so fucked up? You just have to do it. Because the alternative, living without them, is unfathomable. Jesus, Parker, you look worse than I’ve ever seen you, and I’ve seen you pretty low. You’re better with her, even in the hardest times.”
Owen’s words hit me in the most stubborn part of my brain. Christ, he’s right. Even though the past few weeks with Brennan acting the way she was, I feel worse now. When I’m not with her. Struggling through a terrible time with her, one of fear and uncertainty, is preferable to living without her. I’d go through a hundred parole hearings for Brennan if it means having her tucked safely beside me when I lay my head down at night.
Hell. I am in love with her.
Needing to change the subject, the heaviness of talking about Brennan weighing on me, I switch topics.
“You still doing that toy drive next week?” I ask, trying to act nonchalant.
“Yep. The kids are going to smile their faces off.” He claps his hands together in an anticipatory manner.
“Count me in, then,” I tell him.
I think about what he and Clint said when we were in Virginia. Not only do I need to start letting those closest to me in on what I’m feeling and thinking, but I need to start using my platform for good. Changing my attitude might not work internally, but if I put myself out there enough, I could become a better, and happier person. That sure as hell has been demonstrated over the course of the last few months.
“That asshole’s hearing is tomorrow. You know you have to go support your woman, right? And get her back. You’re a sullen prick without her.” Owen turns the conversation back to the important matter at hand.
“Yeah. I know.” I sigh, giving in to the truth that’s been staring me in the face for a week.
Probably longer than that.
“I made up my mind about two seconds after we ended things that I need to get her back. I’ll be there.”
19
Brennan
The piece of notebook paper in my hand shakes, I’m filled with so much fear.
I haven’t seen Jacob since the day he was sentenced, three years ago. He’s filled my nightmares, of course, but I haven’t been face-to-face with the man who tried to murder me in a long time. The attorney I spoke to told me he probably wouldn’t even be in the room, but I’m sitting in an auxiliary room at the jail, so who knows who I’ll bump into?
It’s taken this entire week to sober out, wring myself dry, and collect my thoughts onto this piece of spiral bound. The three hole punches are frayed with how much I’ve been picking at them, but my neat black handwriting details all the reasons Jacob should stay in prison.
Going back to our relationship in my mind, dredging up memories of the night I almost died … it was so hard. The hardest thing I’ve ever done.
Well, maybe the second hardest thing.
The worst part about it all is that I don’t have Parker to lean on.
He took such good care of me when I couldn’t take care of myself. When I finally came out of my whiskey fog, I sobbed into my hands for ten minutes, and then stood up and left his house. I’d been attempting to get him to leave me since I’d gotten the call about the parole hearing, and I’d successfully done it.
The horrible things I said, the way he looked at me like some rabid animal who couldn’t gain control, the question he couldn’t answer. It wasn’t as if I’d admitted the love I so strongly feel.
Days out, I can see how selfish I was. I should have been able to hold it together, especially with someone who has gone through something similar to my darkest period. I should have been able to at least talk to Parker about it, instead of masking my troubles and begging him to break himself to help deliver me temporary relief.
I am in love with the man, and I did everything in my power to ruin it. Now I have to live with that as I stand here, facing my fears, alone.
Looking back down on the bullet points marking my paper, I go over my speech in my head. I’ve recited it ten dozen times, trying not to choke on the tears in my throat to get the information out. They needed to know how dangerous this man is, who he might hurt if they let him walk freely into the world.
“You didn’t think I was going to let you do this alone, did you?”
A hand slips into my jittery one, and the moment his callused palm makes contact with mine, all the tension leaves my body.
I twist to the side, utter shock transforming my face. “What are you doing here?”
“I had to come hold your hand. That’s what you do for the people you love.”
The last word strikes me like a lightning bolt. So much so that I forget about the fear and nerves I was just fretting over.
“You … what?”
Parker turns to me, so goddamn handsome in his black jeans and black long sleeve. He looks like Johnny Cash, smooth and intimidating while also welcoming anyone to challenge him. Those dark brown eyes latch onto mine, so sincere and loving. I can’t believe he’s here. Part of me wants to pinch his impressive bicep to test if he’s actually standing next to me.
“I realized I was in love with you, oh, probably by the third time I came home and you were working on my house. I never believed in an instant connection, that someone you barely know could shake you to the core. But you did that for me, Brennan. I’m telling you now because I want you to know that I’m right here. Whether you decide to do this, whether he stays in prison, whether the sky falls … I’m right here.”
I want to weep, I’m so relieved and romantically overwhelmed. Parker is sweeping me off my feet in what is essentially the lobby of a prison.
“But, what about the things I said to you?” The way I lashed out all comes rushing back.
“I was an idiot for not telling you how I feel, I should have just given you the business and set you straight. Since no one ever fussed with me when I was miserable, I thought that was the best approach with you. I should have talked some sense into you, and I was wrong for that. I should have told you then that I’m so in love with you. But I’m telling you now.”
Everything we said, all the confusion of what our relationship was, it all gets wiped clean. Parker is here, he came here to comfort me, and he’s standing right in front of me confessing his love. I didn’t know it when I met him, but this is the man I’ve always been waiting for. He saved me without even knowing it, made my life have a meaning I didn’t realize it could.
“I love you, too. So much. This week … it’s been the worst of my life
and that’s saying something. I love you.” The words come out so fast that I want to slow time down, really hear them as they hit Parker’s ears.
He scoops me up, practically lifting me off the floor, as he kisses me roughly. It’s a show of passion, but also one of commitment. We’re going to stand by each other … but there are going to be a lot more make up sessions when this nasty business is all said and done.
“Miss Raker?” They’re ready for you.
A clerk sticks his head out of the doors to the hearing room, and Parker and I jump apart. I think I see him smile as he ducks back into the room.
“I wish you could come in with me.” I squeeze his hand.
“Me too. But you’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met. You’ll get through it. You’re incredibly tough.” Parker kisses my forehead, my nose, and then my lips.
And now, I know it’s time to face what’s been coming at me since I put Jacob away.
An hour later, after telling my story and answering endless questions, I walk out of the parole hearing room with tears stinging the back of my eyes. The hearing was intense, and it brought up a lot of buried issues that I’m going to have to deal with later, but I’m glad it’s over.
Parker envelops me in a hug, the male scent of him calming my rapidly beating heart. Holding him, being in his embrace, it feels like the safest place I can be.
“We’ll know in six months or less,” I tell him, my head hanging.
I know this isn’t the case, since I read up on the material the attorney’s had given me, but I thought he’d be denied parole right in front of me today. There’s a sense of disappointment flowing through me, like I haven’t done enough.
“But he’s in here for now. For the foreseeable future. So let’s put it out of our mind. Come on, let’s go home.”
“Home?” I blink hopefully, because all I want to do is sink into his arms on the couch right now.
“Our home. I mean, come on, you’ve done more work on the thing than I ever did. It’s your home as much as it is mine.”
Before Parker showed up, I thought I’d be walking out of here in tears, in total despair crying about how scared I was of the life ahead.
But as we walk out, hand in hand, I’m more hopeful than I’ve been … well, even before I met him.
Because we’ve been through the hardest times now. We didn’t come out unscathed, but we’ve come out stronger.
And all that matters is that we came out stronger, together.
20
Brennan
The sun is just setting over the trees, the pinks and purples streaking across the sky.
I sink into one of the Adirondack chairs I built for our back patio, before this was even my house.
It’s not uncommon to find us out here on night’s off, which Parker will get even more often come next month. The season is almost over and I’m looking forward to having him home more.
Shortly after the parole hearing, I moved in full time. Parker and I, we just work well together. In life, side by side when I’m fixing something or brainstorming for a job, when he is trying to work through a tough day with memories as a victim … we do it all together. There is nothing awkward or off-limits for us, which might surprise some people since we’ve known each other less than a year. But when it feels so right, why wouldn’t we lean in?
We spend most nights together at home, unless he’s playing a game or is on a road trip. In those cases, I’m at the ballpark in Philly or watching from the couch. Last week, I did accompany him to California for a quick three-game series, and he flew us up to Napa on the fourth day, before we had to head home.
It was absolutely perfect. I didn’t grow up with money, much like Parker, and haven’t taken a vacation outside of Wildwood, New Jersey. So flying to one of the most beautiful states in the country, and then drinking wine like some kind of American princess on acres and acres of vineyards … yeah, you could say he made a girl feel special.
The more time we spend together, the more I see the romantic side of Parker. He may not be overt about it, or get mushy in the way he verbalizes it, but the little things mean that much more. When we walk together, he always moves in front of me to open a door in our path. He knows that on the days I don’t have to go to a job site, I like to start the morning in bed designing blueprints or interior decor setups on my laptop, with a cup of coffee. So now, even if he has early morning training, I’ll find a steaming cup next to me on the bedside table when I wake up. And last night, when we were watching an old Tom Hanks movie in the basement, I complained that my feet hurt from being on them all day. Well, the man pulled my feet onto his lap and began massaging them.
If that isn’t the most romantic thing you could do for your construction worker girlfriend, I’m not sure what is.
We still haven’t had a talk about what our relationship is, but for me, it’s not necessary. That’s just one of those things Parker doesn’t verbalize. If I asked him if we were boyfriend and girlfriend, he’d probably look at me with a “duh” expression on his face and then move on to the next thing. The man freaking invited me to live with him; I’m pretty sure that sums up the seriousness of our relationship.
Walking out of the sliding glass door, a plate of uncooked hamburgers in hand, my man looks more delicious than I know those burgers will be. He’s dressed down in athletic shorts and a simple gray T-shirt, but this is my favorite look. So much of the time, Parker looks so serious and in the zone. For his job, he has to be. Only I get to see this side of him.
I decide not to stay seated, because all of that muscly perfection is too tempting to resist touching.
“I didn’t know you could cook. If I’d known that, I would have told you I love you way before I did.” I chuckle to myself as I wrap my arms around his waist.
The sizzling chicken already on the grill smells heavenly, and he has some sort of grill basket full of marinated vegetables sautéing right next to it. I found out about his grilling skills a month ago and have requested them weekly since.
“I can really only grill, so when the cold weather comes, you’re shit out of luck.” He chuckles.
“As long as you can start the fireplace for me. I’m so excited for that.”
Living in shitty apartments for most of my adult life means missing out on one of my favorite, cozy winter traditions.
“Only if you promise to be lying under a plush blanket naked in front of it.” Parker raises his eyebrows as he tends to the meat.
“And I can tend to your meat, then,” I say my thoughts out loud.
He reaches around to squeeze my butt. “If you keep talking like that, we’re never going to make it to dinner.”
“That’s fine with me. We can go right here. Perks of having a boyfriend who lives in a cabin like a loner Sasquatch.”
That makes Parker crack up, and he has no choice but to turn around and kiss the mouth that says very strange things. I love that he loves my quirkiness, that he accepts me in every form.
“How did you ever fall in love with me?” Parker marvels, looking down at me from his natural height of skyscraper proportions.
“You didn’t make it easy.” I snort but reach up to touch his cheek.
“I’m serious. I never thought I’d have something like this. And to have it with you … it’s more than I thought was possible.”
Oh, how my heart melts for serious, genuine Parker. “I feel the same way.”
“I love you.” He bends down to kiss me.
It lasts for what feels like hours, our hands slowly exploring over our clothes.
Until something pops on the grill, and Parker breaks off hastily. “Shit, you made me burn the chicken!”
“I didn’t make you do anything. It’s not my fault you can’t keep your paws off me.” I give him a sly grin.
We always were too good at getting wrapped up in each other. I look forward to doing that for a long, long time.
Epilogue
Parker
Five Years Later
“To the last one of us having fallen. We’re all pussy whipped now!”
Miles hold his glass of whiskey up in a toast, and although the women are probably somewhere grimacing over his words, I clink my glass to his. It would be rude not to. Plus, he’s kind of right. We’re all head over heels for our women, and not afraid to admit it.
A glint from the gold band on my left ring finger distracts me, and I can’t help but stare at it.
I’m a married man.
It feels … incredible. Honestly, I never thought this day would come. I had no idea what kind of woman I’d marry, or if I’d ever be in the mental space to love someone that much to commit to them forever.
That was before Brennan.
Today is our wedding day, and it’s the best one of my life. Aside from the night I met her; who knew things could start off with such a … connection? Yeah, we’ll call it that. I’m sure one of the guys will allude to the fact that we had sex eight seconds into knowing each other in their best man speech. Yes, they insisted on doing a combined speech, and I have a feeling it will be more of a roast of me, but a good-natured one.
Not that I care. The only thing I care about today, and most days, is the gorgeous woman currently twirling around the dance floor in her stepfather’s arms. Brennan is covered in white lace, the dress she chose both sexy and classic, just like her. When I saw her walk down the aisle this afternoon, I could barely breathe. She’s so goddamn stunning, I found myself staring at her when the officiant was trying to feed me the lines of my vows. The crowd chuckled as I shook my head to clear the daze.
When she slid the ring onto my finger, my bones finally settled. For a long time, I’ve felt alone, adrift. I had no one in my life to count on, and nothing to keep me from floating away. Brennan does that. She keeps me grounded, watches my back, loves me even if I’m being a dick, and I do the same for her.
Over the Fence Box Set Page 67