“Parker, dear. Are you all right?”
Clearing his throat, he set his coffee down and smiled. “Fine, Mother. Sorry, just a small tickle in my throat, I suppose.”
She had her worried mom face on, but thankfully she let it go.
“How is Tamsen?”
Or not.
“Why would I know?” Evasion, good move, that didn’t seem suspicious at all.
“Aren’t you two planning our shower together? I assumed you’d been in contact with her recently.”
Oh right, that. Of course his mom was talking about party planning and not…the other thing he was doing with Tamsen.
“It’s going well. She suggested we use the art gallery she interns at for the party. I saw it last night.” Among other things. “Looks like a great venue.”
His mother smiled. “An art gallery? That does sound lovely. According to Thomas, Tamsen is a very talented artist herself.”
She was. Tamsen not only had skill, but she also managed to infuse emotion into her art. He hadn’t just looked at her drawing and paintings when he snuck a peek of them in her room, he’d felt them. He had no idea how to describe it, but something in his chest resonated as he stared at the dark lines, the bright colors on the canvas. She had a gift, for sure.
He also appreciated her more…experimental art projects.
“Have you seen any of her artwork?”
Seen it, been it, done it.
“I have. She’s amazing.” At his mother’s arched brow, he corrected himself. “Her artwork. She’s an amazing artist.”
“The creative arts are so important. Art and music nourish the soul. Even if only as a hobby.”
Oh no. He knew where his mother was going with this. She could hint around it, get Tamsen to ask for her, but none of it would work. He was not picking his music back up.
Ever.
He was saved from further discussion by the server arriving with their food. Sweet smells of berry and sugar wafted up from the delicious-looking crêpe on his plate. Red slices of strawberry filled the thin pastry, spilling out the sides. A dollop of fresh cream lay on top with an artful drizzle of chocolate sauce. He dug in, lifting a forkful to his mouth and closing his eyes as flavor exploded on his tongue.
“Mmmm,” his mother made an appreciative sound as she took her own bite. “Jeanne makes the most divine dishes.”
He agreed.
“I wonder if we can hire her to cater the shower?”
“I can talk to Tamsen about it.” He still thought this party was ridiculous, but if his mother wanted Jeanne’s delicious food there, he was all in for that plan.
“I’m so pleased to hear you two are getting along.”
More than she knew.
“Thomas and I did so hope you children would become friends.”
“We’re adults, Mother. Not children.”
And he wouldn’t necessarily call them friends. Friends with benefits maybe. But his mother didn’t need to know that and neither did Tamsen’s father.
“Well, we’re just happy to see you both taking to each other so well. Not that I was too worried. With as wonderful as Thomas is, I knew his daughter would be something special, too.”
More than she knew. But Parker didn’t want to think about him and Tamsen right now. Since she brought up the subject of Thomas, he had more pressing questions.
“Mother, are you sure…” He trailed off, uncertain how to word his question without upsetting her. No one was allowed to hurt his mother, not even him.
“Am I sure of what, darling?”
He waited until she’d taken a bite of her meal to pose his question. Carefully forming it to show his concern.
“Are you sure you’re not rushing into this marriage? I mean, how well do you really know this guy? Six months isn’t really that long of a time. What if he’s just trying to…” At her stern look, he amended the accusation he was about to volley. “I just don’t want to see you hurt again.”
Placing her fork on the table, his mother reached across to place her hand over his. A warm and loving smile lit her eyes.
“My dear boy, I know how hard it was when your father left and that my taste in men over the years may not have always turned out for the best.”
There was the understatement of the century.
“I know you worry, Parker, but you don’t have to. That’s my job. I’m the parent.”
Didn’t mean he couldn’t worry about her. Family worried. It’s what you did for the ones you loved whether they raised you or you raised them. He couldn’t help it.
“I just think that maybe you should find out a little more about Thomas. Dig into his past a bit. See if he’s keeping anything from you.” A task he was already doing, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. He was only going to reveal his investigation if the PI turned up something dirty.
“Parker Vincent Kincaid.”
Uh oh. He got the full name. Every kid, no matter how old they were, knew when their mother used all their names, it wasn’t a good sign.
She sat back in her seat, hands folded together and placed primly on the table. Yup. Full-on lecture mode.
“I am not going to spy on my fiancé. Thomas loves me and I love him. Yes, we may not have known each other long, but when you get to be our age, you don’t need time. Or have a lot time to spare fluttering about with longwinded courtships.”
“Don’t say that.” Now it was his turn to grasp her hand. “You’re going to be around for a long time.”
She was barely in her sixties. Sixty was the new forty. She had another thirty years easy.
“No one knows how much time they have left on this earth. That’s why when we find something as special as what Thomas and I have, you have to grab hold of it with both hands and dive in. Sometimes you just have to trust people, darling. I know you’re the suspicious sort, but I promise if you just give people a chance, they might surprise you.”
Yeah, that wasn’t his strong suit—a complaint lobbed at him by every former girlfriend. That and his inability to share his feelings. Whatever the hell that meant. He shared. Smiled when he was happy, frowned when he was upset. What more did they want?
“I get that,” he said, “but I just don’t want you to be distracted by your emotions again.”
She frowned, mouth dropping open slightly. “Parker.”
He reached over to take her hand, worried he’d upset her, but refusing to drop this so easily. Not when she could get hurt again. “I’m sorry, Mother, but remember Charles and Magnus—”
“Parker Kincaid, that is enough.” Her voice was hushed but firm as iron.
He ducked his head, guilt sinking like a stone in his stomach. “I’m sorry, Mother. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
His mother pulled her hand back, picking up her coffee and taking a small sip before arching one eyebrow at him. He knew it wasn’t kind to bring up the former men in her life who’d hurt her, but it killed him to think it might be happening again. He only wanted to protect her like she’d always done for him.
They both let the matter drop, chatting instead about how various family members were doing, his mother’s charities, his work. She told him about her and Thomas’ plan to pick out a new home together. His mother was a bit of a real-estate addict, moving homes every five years or so, so the news didn’t surprise him. But was Thomas seeking out a new fancy home by marrying his mother?
When they finished lunch, Parker knew he should go home and rest, but he found himself driving through the streets of Denver and parking right in front of 5280 Eats.
He found a spot in the small, crowded lot and headed inside. He had to; if he didn’t, they’d tow his car. That was the logic he was going with. Sure, he’d just eaten lunch and Tamsen probably wasn’t even working. So why was he here?
An excellent questio
n. One he really didn’t have an answer to. But he needed one. And quick. As soon as he stepped through the front door, he bumped right into a soft, familiar body.
“Parker!” Tamsen’s wide eyes looked up at him. “What are you doing here?”
He enjoyed one gentle stroke of his thumbs along the soft smoothness of her upper arms as he steadied her before dropping his hands and stepping back.
“I was having lunch with my mom and she had some ideas for the catering. For the party. So I thought I’d swing by to see if you were free for a chat.”
A smile spread across her face. “Really? You just thought you’d pop by? Even though there’s this newfangled thing called texting?”
Busted.
Leaning down close, he whispered in her ear, “Okay, maybe I just wanted to make sure you…didn’t miss any paint.”
She shivered, a soft sigh of warm breath hitting his cheek.
“And you thought you could inspect for this missed paint while I’m working?”
He laughed softly. “Actually, I didn’t even think you’d be here.” But he’d hoped. “I thought you had the dinner shift?”
She shrugged. “Came in early. One of the servers called in sick, and since I’m trying to nab this manager position, I’m on call for all no shows.”
“That’s rough.”
“Such is the life of the service industry.”
“Since you came in early, do you get to leave early?”
She nodded. “Yeah, luckily I found someone to come in tonight, so I don’t have to work a double.”
“What time do you get off?”
She bit her lips, speaking low so only he could hear. “About half an hour after you pick me up from the end of my shift.”
“Good answer,” he growled.
He wanted to pull her close and sate himself on those delicious lips he was already missing, but they were in public.
“I get off at six.”
“Sounds good.”
His phone chimed. Pulling it from his pocket, he read the notification. A new message from his PI.
“Something wrong?” Tamsen asked.
He glanced up, not realizing he was frowning until she reached out and smoothed the wrinkle lines in his forehead with her fingers. Pasting on a smile, he shook his head.
“Nope. I’ll see you at six?”
He could tell by her worried expression she didn’t believe him, but she let it go with a nod.
“Tamsen, just sat you a table!” a voice from the hostess stand called.
“Oh, gotta go. Bye!”
She rushed off, leaving Parker there, his phone feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds in his grip. What was this heavy, uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach? He told himself this thing with Tamsen had nothing to do with his investigation of her father. So why did he feel a little sick keeping it from her?
Maybe the email had good news. And since when was he hoping for good news? It wasn’t like he wanted his mother’s heart broken. Again. But he’d hired the PI because he didn’t trust Thomas. When had he suddenly started wishing that he could?
He glanced across the restaurant to the charming woman who gave her customers a bright, engaging smile even though he knew she had to be as exhausted as him. And it hit him.
It was her. Tamsen. She made him do something he hadn’t done in a long time…hope.
Chapter Seventeen
“Okay, Tamsen, you’re good to go.”
Prisha nodded to her when Tamsen dropped off her receipts to be counted. She was so glad her manager hadn’t held the microwave incident against her. She’d been worried a misstep like that would have cost her any chance at the day-shift manager promotion or, even worse, her entire job, but Prisha didn’t blame her. The older woman claimed it could have happened to anyone and then joked about how at least it brought some sexy firefighters to the restaurant.
And speaking of sexy firefighters…
Tamsen nodded to her boss and went to the small break room, where she dropped off her apron and grabbed her purse.
“You out?” Jade asked, coming into the room.
“Yup.”
“That’s good, because Hottie Hero is here, and he looks awfully excited about something.” Jade tapped a finger to her smiling red lips. “I wonder what it could be.”
Tamsen chose to remain silent but couldn’t keep the excited smile off her own face. She’d just been with him last night, but her body was already craving another round.
“Bye, Jade.” She waved to her friend.
“Have fun tonight!”
Oh, she planned to.
She made her way out into the restaurant to see Parker was in fact just beyond the host stand waiting for her. Her thighs clenched in anticipation, butterflies taking flight in her stomach as all the delicious memories from last night flooded her brain.
“Hi there,” he said as she approached him.
“Hi.”
He moved to open the front door, motioning with his hand for her to precede him. “Shall we?”
Yes please.
Once outside, she tucked her arm into his and allowed him to steer her toward his car. He opened the passenger door for her, and she slid inside. Parker rounded the car and slipped into the driver’s seat.
“I know this is totally cliché, but your place or mine?”
She giggled, unable to keep the glee inside. “Hmm, well, my roommate has the overnight shift, and my place is five minutes away, so—”
“Your place it is.” He grinned, starting up the car.
They made it to her place in record time, probably thanks to the hand she’d placed on Parker’s thigh and kept slowly inching upward. Each inch earned her a low, sexy growl. She should be exhausted after last night’s activities and a full day of work, but she wasn’t. Parker sparked something in her. An energy, a high she’d only experienced when creating art.
Technically, we did create art.
She smiled at the memory of their painting. Tonight would be a lot less messy, but she had no doubt it would be just as fun.
Parker pulled into her apartment’s parking lot. She navigated him to guest parking, grateful there were spots available, but then was out of the car before he even turned off the engine. No chance for him to play chivalrous knight and open her door. She was aching for him. Chivalry could wait until after her first orgasm.
She grabbed his hand and rushed up the stairs, unable to wait for the elevator. With the way Parker kept sensually stroking the back of her hand with his thumb, she doubted they would be able to keep their hands off each other in such an enclosed space. Since she didn’t want to get kicked out of her place for indecent exposure in the elevators, stairs it was.
She was breathing hard by the time they reached her apartment door, but it wasn’t from the climb. No. It was all due to the man currently standing behind her, crowding her with his heady presence. His large hands gripped her hips as he pressed the thick ridge of his erection against her ass. She fumbled with her keys, almost dropping them as she attempted to slide them into the lock, distracted by the way Parker’s mouth was working magic on her throat.
Finally, she got the damn key in the lock and turned. They practically fell inside. Parker slammed the door behind him, turning them so her back was against the door and lifting. She gladly complied, wrapping her legs around his waist so every intimate inch was pressed together.
“Dammit,” he growled between drugging kisses. “We have too many clothes on.”
She agreed.
Her hands moved down his broad shoulders, gripping his shirt, but before she could try and tug the thing off, he pulled them away from the door and started to move.
“Parker!” Her arms went back around his neck as she held on.
“Bedroom. Now.”
He’
d forgotten verbs. She tried not to delight in the knowledge that she’d reduced him to grunting monosyllabic phrases, but…eh, who was she kidding? She loved it.
He moved them into her room, gently laying her down on the bed.
“Naked. Now.”
There went those monosyllables again. But she was feeling rather playful tonight. Something about this man just made her so…free. Free to be herself, free to open up. It was a feeling she wasn’t all that used to in her relationships. A lot of her past lovers had complained about her constant mishaps and accidents. Not Parker. He didn’t think she was a walking disaster, even after witnessing more than a few of them.
He accepted her just as she was.
She had to admit, that acceptance was a high. One she was riding right now. One that gave her the courage to rise to her knees, look him straight in the eye and say, “No.”
One eyebrow quirked. His smile dipped a bit, but he didn’t seem angry. “Change your mind, sweetheart? That’s okay; we don’t have to—”
“I didn’t change my mind.” Sweet guy had the complete wrong idea. “I just want to taste first.”
“What do you—”
His question broke off in a very creative swear as she unzipped his pants and reached in to grab the hard shaft of his erection.
“Fuck me, Tamsen.”
“Mmmmm,” she hummed, enjoying the warm, velvety feel of him in her hand as she stroked him from base to tip. “I intend to.”
She leaned forward, glancing up at him through her lashes before saying, “After.”
Then she took him in her mouth. He shouted another curse, his hands slipping into her hair, not grabbing or pulling but stroking, massaging her scalp as she worked him. She moaned deep in her throat at the prickly sensations his fingertips created. Who knew the scalp could be such an erogenous zone? Parker swore again at her moan.
“Sweetheart, you gotta stop or I’m not going to last long.”
Since she wasn’t nearly done with him, she sat back, releasing him. His grin was wicked as he quickly shucked off his clothing and stood at the edge of her bed.
The Wedding Dilemma (Mile High Firefighters) Page 15
