by Ali Parker
My father’s mouth twisted. “You are being ungrateful.”
I shook my head as my eyes started to burn. “I’m not. I’m trying so hard to make you see that.”
“You’re not doing a good job of it,” my father said, getting to his feet.
I stood too and blocked his way out of the living room between the two sofas. “No, I’m not done.”
“I am.”
“I don’t care,” I said sharply. “I care about you. I care about having you in my life when I get married. When I have children. When I find my career and my purpose. I care about sharing my success with you. Piper’s Paradise has already stolen so much from me and Phillip. Please don’t let it steal you from us too. That’s all I want, Daddy. I want you in my life for as long as possible.”
My father’s dark eyes danced back and forth between mine. His mouth was still set in a snarl, his jaw clenched, his hands tight by his sides. Whatever he was hearing wasn’t what I was saying, and I didn’t know any other way to get through to him.
“Daddy?”
“Step aside, Piper. I’m done with this conversation. I think it’s best if you leave.”
“But—”
My mother stood up and took my arm. “Listen to him, Piper. He heard you out. Let him go.” She tugged me gently, pulling me out of my father’s way, and he brushed past me, his heels thundering on the shag carpet as he strode from the living room and slammed his bedroom door behind him.
My throat ached, and my eyes burned. “Is he going to forgive me for this?”
My mom rubbed my back. “Yes, sweetheart. Just give him time.”
I turned toward her. “Do you forgive me?”
She cupped my face in her hands and wiped my tears away. “There is nothing to forgive, Piper. You are just as much a part of the family as we are, and you have a right to be heard. I can’t say I disagree with you, either. But now may not be the time for such conversations. Your father is stressed. This isn’t what his heart needs.”
“I know.”
“So, let’s leave it for now. Until after the surgery. Until he’s healed.”
“But—”
“Please?”
I searched my mother’s eyes. She looked more tired than I’d ever seen her. More hollow. My heart broke, and I hung my head. “Okay.”
“That’s my sweet girl,” she said before kissing my forehead. “Now, tell me about this Aaron of yours. Is he really just a friend?”
I shook my head. “I can’t stay. I have to go.”
“Piper—”
I pushed her hands down from my face. “I can’t be here right now.”
She let me go.
As soon as I pulled open the sliding patio door, Aaron got to his feet. His eyes locked onto mine, and he stepped forward. “Are you all right?”
I shook my head. “I want to leave.”
Aaron turned back to Phillip and shook his hand. “See you around, Phillip.”
My brother clamped a hand on Aaron’s shoulder before releasing him so he could come to me. Then he followed me through the house, past my mother, past the row of photos that made it even harder for me not to fall apart right then and there, and out the front door. I strode purposefully to the limo and opened the door myself, not willing to allow for any extra time for Aaron to walk around and open it for me.
As soon as he slid into the seat beside me and closed the door, I leaned forward, hid my face in my hands, and started sobbing.
Aaron was there with his hand on my back, pulling me into his side, holding me in silence. He never said a word. Never asked me to tell him what was wrong. He just let me cry as the limo pulled away from the curb and drove down the street to turn around in the cul de sac.
Chapter 18
Aaron
The limo driver, Victor, rolled down the divider between the front seats and the back and locked eyes with me in the rearview mirror. “Any stops before we get back to your apartment, Mr. Morris?”
“No, straight home, Victor. Thank you.”
The divider slid back up with a mechanical whine and sealed us apart once more.
I looked down at Piper, who had fallen asleep in my lap after the first half hour of the drive, which she spent bawling her eyes out over her father and his complete inability to hear her out.
The primal, immature side of me wanted to march right back into the tiny house to give him a piece of my mind. But that wouldn’t have helped Piper. All it would have done was make things worse.
That was the last thing I wanted to do.
Watching and hearing her cry had been hard enough. I couldn’t bear making things harder on her.
I stroked her hair as she slept with her cheek on my thigh. There was a profound feeling of pride in my chest. She’d stood her ground and said her peace and hadn’t backed down. She’d put it all out there, every gritty intimate detail, and she’d known full well things might not have gone over well.
Which they hadn’t.
Regardless, I was fairly certain she was glad she did it. And I was glad I’d tagged along. Because at the very least, this trip had been worth it.
Phillip had my check in his pocket by the time Piper came out onto the back deck to get me. So one way or another, the surgery was being paid for. That was all that mattered to me at this stage of the game. Piper might be crying now, but when the surgery came and went and her parents weren’t smothered by yet more debt, she would be in a better place.
And if she wasn’t, I’d deal with that when the time came.
I sighed and stroked her hair.
She deserved so much more than this. They all did. Her brother, her parents, all of them. They were so much more than they gave themselves credit for. They’d hitched themselves to the wagon that was Piper’s Paradise like it was their only saving grace. When in reality, their biggest saving grace was their children.
It was so hard to understand why parents were blind to this kind of thing. Piper and Phillip were the legacy of their parents, not the shell of a restaurant like they believed.
Maybe when the dust cleared after this storm, they would be able to see that for themselves.
My thoughts were scattered when my phone started buzzing in my pocket. I moved carefully, not wanting to disturb Piper, and worked my phone out of my jeans to see Marcy’s name flash across the screen.
I groaned. I was in no mood for chit chat with her. But I hadn’t talked to her in at least a week, and she probably wanted to know where things stood with my current contract, so I answered the phone and kept my voice low. “Marcy. Hi. This isn’t a good time. Can I call you back?”
“I’m just checking in to make sure you’re going to be able to submit that manuscript at the end of the month. The company is on my ass about it, and I’ve promised them we won’t have a repeat of last time. I don’t want you to embarrass me, Aaron. Please tell me you’re still on track.”
“I am.”
“Thank the Lord,” she said. “That’s exactly what I needed to hear today. Do you have your calendar with you? I’m scheduling some tour dates for you. Book signings and what not.”
“I don’t. Not right this moment. Can I—”
“Well, that’s all right. I’ll just tell you and email you later. I’m thinking we’ll kick things off in August. We’ll send you to the UK first. Two weeks there. Then on to Europe. We’ll circle back to the States on your third week and do the northern states first. I have a bunch of dates here somewhere. I just can’t put my finger on them.”
“Marcy, I can’t talk right now.”
“What, are you with someone more important than me?” she teased.
“Yes.”
There was a long stretch of uncomfortable silence between us before Marcy broke it. “Well, I will let you go then.”
“Thank you.”
When I went to put my phone back in my pocket, I looked down to find Piper gazing up at me.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
She shook her head as she propped herself up and wiped at her eyes. There were no more tears, but her eyes were red and glassy still. “It’s okay. Is everything all right?”
“Yeah. It was just Marcy being… well, Marcy.”
Piper smiled weakly. “I see.”
“How are you feeling?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Shitty.”
“I wish I could change how things went.”
“I know.”
“I’d do anything to change it.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have listened to me.”
Piper shook her head. “No. It had to be said. And I’m glad I got it all off my chest. I guess part of me was just delusional in hoping my father would somehow do a one eighty and feel differently about the restaurant. But that was foolish of me. I shouldn’t have gone in with such high expectations.”
“It’s impossible not to when your intentions are so pure.”
“You have too much faith in me,” she said softly.
I shook my head and stroked her cheek. “No, I have just the right amount of faith in you. Your father has a lot going on right now. When things calm down and everything goes back to normal, he might think over what you said. And maybe he’ll change his mind. Maybe he won’t. You can’t control that, Piper. You can control what you do and how you react. That’s all.”
She pinched her bottom lip between her teeth. “So I should consider what I’ll do if six months from now, they still have the restaurant?”
“Don’t consider it now. Wait. The wound is still fresh for you too. Give yourself some time to heal.”
“You’re too kind to me.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are, Aaron,” she said rather sharply. She closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. This is all just a lot. This whole year is getting to me, and I just want to lock myself away in a quiet place where no one can bother me.”
“You can have all the time alone you need when we get home.”
“I don’t want to be alone.”
I frowned. “But you just said—”
“I want to be alone with you.”
“Oh.” I smiled. “Well, in that case, my lady, your wish is my command.”
She giggled and pushed at my chest. Hearing her laugh and seeing her smile was like the clouds were parting and letting the sunshine through. “If that’s the case, I wish for a night in our pajamas with a good movie and takeout. Thoughts?”
“Consider it done,” I told her.
Piper flashed her award-winning smile before settling back into her seat. We only had another twenty or so minutes ahead of us before we got back to my apartment, and we spent it talking about everything other than her father and her family. That subject seemed off limits, and I was happy to oblige her wishes.
There was no sense in continuing to mull over a problem she could not solve.
Not yet anyway.
When the check I’d written for Phillip came into play, I had a feeling things might change for her a bit. Or a lot. The financial burden her parents were expecting would not be there, and they would be free to continue operating at the same speed they were now: still slow as shit, but not as bad as they might be, had I not written said check.
I just hoped Piper didn’t hate me for doing it behind her back.
I had my reasons, and I was sticking to them. Like her father, she was stubborn and prideful, and this was the easy solution. I had made the decision for them all.
Hopefully, I wasn’t shooting myself in the foot in the process. There was a chance my overstepping could push Piper away and make it an easy choice for her to dismiss me in favor of the other men. But that was a strong possibility regardless. I’d have to be a fool to think otherwise. The competition was stacked against me.
When we got back to my apartment, Piper made a beeline for her room and got changed into a loose pair of pajamas. She’d tied her hair up in a messy bun and padded barefoot over to me, where I sat on the sofa with a collection of takeout menus spread out on my coffee table.
“Pick whichever your heart desires,” I said, sweeping a hand over the selection as Piper sat down beside me.
She slid off the edge of the couch to her knees in front of the coffee table and peered down at the menus. Then she pursed her lips and pressed her index finger to her chin thoughtfully. “Hmm. Greek? Thai? Indian?”
“Any one of them works for me.”
She wiggled her ass as she settled it upon her heels. “I think I’m feeling Indian food. Look at that butter chicken. It looks amazing. And the pakora!”
“Let’s do it,” I said.
We ordered dinner, cracked open a bottle of red wine, and settled down to flip through the movie selections from my online ordering service. We debated over genres for a good couple minutes, even though I knew I would cave and watch whatever she wanted. Eventually, she concluded that a comedy was much needed—something she could laugh her blues away to.
So, we purchased a silly comedy and sat back sipping our wine until the Indian food delivery guy rang my doorbell. I hurried to answer it, paid, and brought the packages into the kitchen where Piper and I loaded up our plates and brought everything back to the living room to gorge ourselves on rich, buttery, delicious food.
When we were done, Piper leaned back and rolled her head to the side to look at me. “Are you going to put your jammies on or what? I thought this was a ‘your wish is my command situation’, and I distinctly remember saying we would be wearing our pajamas while we watched this movie.”
“I don’t own pajamas.”
She blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
I chuckled. “I don’t own any.”
“Then go put some sweats on or something, you psychopath.”
Laughing in earnest, I got to my feet. “All right. But you stay right here.”
“I won’t go anywhere,” she cooed, turning to watch as I made my way to the bedroom. “Don’t bother putting a shirt on. You won’t need it.”
For the first time in a long time, my cheeks burned, and I rubbed at my chest as I ducked into my bedroom. Apparently, her very hard day wasn’t going to impact our evening together.
I was one lucky fucking bastard.
Chapter 19
Piper
I helped myself to another glass of wine while I waited for Aaron’s return.
With a content sigh, I nestled myself deep into the corner spot on the sofa and drew one of Aaron’s blankets over my lap. It was exactly what I needed after an extremely rough day. In the solitude of Aaron’s apartment, I could be unapologetically myself and not have to worry about saying the right thing at the right time. Aaron made me feel perfectly at ease in my own skin, and after a difficult day of trying to get my father to take me seriously, his support was exactly what the doctor ordered.
His body couldn’t hurt, either.
Things had changed so drastically and so quickly from the beginning of the month. Just two weeks ago, I’d been sure this month was going to be a crap shoot. There’d been no doubt in my mind that things between Aaron and me would amount to nothing and I’d have a relaxing month with no pressures and time to regroup; to collect my thoughts and feelings about the other men.
But here I was, caught up in another bachelor and woefully out of my own depth.
Like fucking clockwork.
Would it have been easier to not develop any feelings for Aaron this month? Absolutely.
Did I regret developing said feelings? Not even a little bit.
Aaron was good to his core. He was kind and eager to help where he could. He was a romantic at heart, a trait I had reaped the benefits of many times over already, and he was the man you wanted in your corner when push came to shove. Sure, he didn’t strike me as a fighter, but I’d always been capable of fighting my own battles. He was a lover. When the battle was done, he was the man whose arms you fell into and wh
o you trusted to take care of you and nurse your wounds.
Like he’d done for me today.
There was something so special about that and about how safe he made me feel.
I drummed my fingers on the side of my wine glass as I waited.
“Something special indeed,” I muttered.
“Did you say something?” Aaron asked as he came back into the living room in nothing but a pair of loose gray sweats that sat right on his hip bones, revealing a delicious V-cut and abs that were unaffected by the giant Indian-style meal we’d just devoured.
“No, just talking to myself.”
He dropped into the open spot beside me and reached for the remote on the coffee table.
I put a hand on his and leaned forward. “Wait.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Is something wrong?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
I nodded.
Aaron’s eyes narrowed at me. “All right. Should we start this movie or what? You’re freaking me—”
Before I knew what I was doing, I went to my knees, leaned into his chest, cupped his face in my hands, and kissed him. His beard whispered against my palms, and his lips yielded to my tongue. Then he was wrapping his arms around me and drawing me into his lap.
Aaron’s hands moved all over my body. His fingers traced winding patterns on bare skin; my stomach, arms, chest, shoulders. As he trailed his touch all over me, he inched my shirt up over my breasts, exposing the sheer lace unpadded bra I had on underneath. He let out a soft moan as he practically buried his face in my cleavage.
I held him there and rolled my hips in his lap, loving the way his body responded to mine. In seconds, his cock was hard and pressing up against the inside of my thighs in a silent plea for attention.
I pushed away from him and slid off his lap to go to my knees in front of him. Then I hooked my fingers in the waistband of his sweatpants and drew them down, followed by his boxers. His cock sprang free, and I took him in one hand, holding him steady as I toyed with him by tracing my tongue up and down the length of his shaft. He watched me with a needy, hard stare.
