by Cathryn Fox
“Parker?” She cupped his cheeks, drawing his attention back to her. “Is this about your grandmother?”
His throat worked as he swallowed. “She couldn’t see the box that fell near the stairs, probably knocked down by one of her cats. If she’d had on the glasses, they would have described her surroundings in detail, and she never would have tripped.”
“I’m so sorry, Parker.” She touched his face. “I understand why this is so important to you.”
“Grandma, and I… Well, she practically raised me. I love my folks, but Mom was never in the picture, and when Dad wasn’t working, he was womanizing.”
“I can relate, sort of.”
“Yeah?” He ran a strand of her hair between his fingers, the tenderness in his gaze making her forget she didn’t talk about her past, didn’t trust men.
“My dad left us when I was young.” He shook his head and scowled. “My mom, well, she gave up going to college to raise me, and after dad left, we had nothing. She wasn’t qualified for anything other than waitressing, and that barely paid the bills, or for child care.” She sucked in a breath and willed the tears not to fall. “Just like you found your grandma, I found my mom. Only I didn’t realize she wasn’t sleeping. I was only five and shook her and shook her trying to wake her up.” Unable to hold them back any longer, a few tears spilled down her cheek, and Parker gently brushed them away.
“I’m so sorry, Layla.”
She sniffed, swallowed, and laid her head on his shoulder. He stroked her hair, and they stayed quiet for a long time, both lost in thoughts. Finally, she inched back and broke the quiet.
“I didn’t know what to do. I waited for hours, and then I wandered outside in nothing but a thin nightgown in the dead of winter. The neighbors found me, and the rest, as they say, is history.”
“That’s a terrible thing to happen to a little girl.”
“As I grew older, I made the vow to never, ever rely on a man for anything. I plan to make my own way in this world. I never want to find myself a mother, helpless, without my own income to take care of my child if the guy I’m with decides to bail.” She sniffed and nodded. “So I guess we both lost very important women in our lives. Looks like we have more in common than I thought.”
“Except you still want that white picket fence,” he said, and she could tell he was trying to lighten her mood.
She grinned. “I never claimed that. What do you have against white fences?”
“Don’t even get me started.”
“Tell me more about your family.”
“Like I said, I love my Mom and Dad, and my Gran, but she never did much care for my mother. She was quite vocal that she was a social climber who trapped my dad with pregnancy to keep him.”
“Is that true?”
“I don’t know.” He scrubbed his chin, scratched the soft bristles. “All I know is she was a waitress and got pregnant with me before they married.” He shrugged. “Did they love each other? I can’t really say. Maybe they did at one point. They fought a lot.”
“Maybe she wants to fix her mistakes through you.”
“What do you mean?”
“She doesn’t like the women you date right?”
“True.”
“Maybe she wants you to marry for love. Find a girl who likes you for who you are and not what you can give her.”
“Maybe, and she can want that all she likes, but that’s never going to happen.”
“Why not?”
“I can give you five million reasons.”
“That’s a lot of reasons, Parker.”
He scoffed. “More like a lot of money.”
“Money?” She angled her head, unable to put the pieces together. “What are you talking about?”
“I made a pact with five guys from Yale right after our graduation.”
“This is getting interesting,” she said, and he grinned. “What kind of pact?”
“None of us believe in marriage.”
“Why not?”
“Most of us had seen too much manipulation, so to prevent one of us from getting trapped, we made a pact. If one walks down the aisle, he has to pay each man one million dollars. That’s a lot of reasons to think twice, right?”
She gave a low whistle. Money clearly meant a lot to the guys, but she sensed it went deeper with Parker. “You’re right, that is a lot of reasons. Too many, really.”
He exhaled slowly. “But seriously, though, I don’t want anyone to manipulate me the way my mom supposedly did with my dad. That shit’s pretty serious, and hateful.”
“It is,” she said, understanding his fears of commitment and trust ran deep.
The scent of chocolate chip cookies filled the air just as the timer went off. He gave her a little whack on the ass to move her. “Let me get that.” He stood and set her on the stool, then used the dishcloth to pull the cookies from the oven.
“These look good.” He reached for one and pulled his hand back. “Fuck, that’s hot.”
Layla laughed and jumped from the stool. She whacked him away. “Yeah, four hundred degrees hot. Get out of there before you burn yourself.”
He shook his hand. “Too late for that.”
She winced and turned on the cold water. “Come here.” She took his hand and ran his fingertips under the nozzle. “What a pair we make,” she said. “Between my cuts and your burns.”
He chuckled, and she turned the water off. Parker grabbed the dishtowel and dried her hands, then glanced over her knuckles. “They’re healing nicely.” He lifted his head, met her eyes, and cringed. “I still feel pretty shitty about hitting you.”
She shrugged. “It’s okay.” Heck, if he hadn’t, she never would have met him, never would have known the pleasure of his touch. “I don’t mind.”
He eyed her. “You don’t mind?”
“Maybe that wasn’t—” before she could explain, a ring sounded from the other room.
“Shit, that’s my cell phone.” He glanced at the clock and frowned. “Who the hell would be calling at three in the morning?”
“I don’t know, but you’d better go find out.”
As he darted to his bedroom, she stayed in the kitchen, wanting to give him privacy. Since he had no cooling racks—heck, she was lucky she found a baking sheet—she removed the cookies and set them on a plate. A piece fell off, and she popped it into her mouth and chewed. It turned to sawdust when Parker came back around the corner, his face white, his brow pulled into a deep frown.
“What?” she asked, wiping her hands on her pajama pants as unease moved through her.
“It’s mom. She’s in the ER again,” he explained a frightened edge to his voice that she’d never heard before.
“Please tell me it’s indigestion.”
He gave a slow shake of his head and stared at the floor.
Unease turned to fear. “Parker?” Oh Jesus, something was wrong. Very wrong. Memories of finding her mother once again rushed to the forefront, and a sick knot gripped her gut.
“I don’t think it’s indigestion. She’s never had an incident in the middle of the night before. If she was faking it, I don’t think she’d…” His head slowly lifted, eyes locked on her. “I’m worried.”
Layla dropped everything and pushed away from the counter. “Okay, let’s go.”
He stiffened and blinked. “Wait, what?”
She started to move past him. “I’m going with you, and I’m driving.”
He reached for her arm to stop her, and she spun back around. “Layla, I’m perfectly capable…”
As he droned on, she shook her head. My God, was that what she sounded like? Hell, that was annoying. Ignoring his tirade, she said, “The clock is ticking, Parker.” She stepped away, needing to change out of her pajamas. She hurried to her bedroom, pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater. Instead of combing out her hair, she grabbed an elastic, and tied it back. That’s about as good as she got at three in the morning. Parker was just coming out of his
room when she walked past on her way to the hall closet to get her coat.
Her heart squeezed at the worried look on his face. He might be a hardheaded, arrogant bully sometimes, a guy who could give aspirin a headache, but he sure cared deeply about his mother. He touched her arm, stopping her, and she was about to pull away. He could protest all he wanted. She was not letting him go to the hospital alone. He was in no shape to drive, and who knew who he’d run over this time? She opened her mouth but shut it again when she caught the warmth in his eyes.
“Thank you,” was all he said, his voice soft, intimate, a vulnerability about him she’d never seen before.
As something warm passed between them, her heart went into her throat.
Oh God, Layla, be careful with this one.
She swallowed and reminded herself what this really was. A guy taking care of a girl he ran over—and a little sex to pass the time. “No worries,” she said, hoping her voice wasn’t as shaky as her hands. She ran her palms over her coat—one she still needed to pay for—wanting him to believe her reasons for going weren’t entirely personal, even though they were. “I still owe you, remember.”
Chapter Nine
Layla found a metered spot outside the hospital and powered down his Tesla. She turned to check on him, but he was already out of the car. She slid from the driver’s side and met him on the sidewalk, and when she put her arm around his back, he dragged her tighter against his body. The cool night air whipped at them as they made their way inside, and he was grateful for the winter coat she was wearing.
Sirens whirred as an ambulance sped past them, driving to the emergency bay doors on the other side of the building, and a nervous sensation moved through him. He stole a quick glance at Layla. This couldn’t be easy on her, either, considering the story she’d told him about her mother.
“You okay?” he asked.
She blinked up at him, and the worry in her eyes slammed into him. What a hell of a night they were having. “Yeah, you?”
He nodded, and when they entered the hospital, the familiar smell of antiseptic tickled his nose. Parker hurried to the nurse’s station and Layla stood back as he spoke, but she was still within earshot, right there if he needed her. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder to check on her and found her gripping her zipper and tugging it up and down, like she needed to busy her hands.
“Fourth floor room 403,” the nurse said. “Family only.”
He captured Layla’s hand and gave a tug. “Come on.”
“Didn’t she just say family only?”
“Yeah.”
At the moment, he didn’t give two shits about the rules. He wanted—no, needed—Layla standing beside him, especially if the news was bad. They hurried down the hall, following a long yellow arrow that took them to a bank of elevators. He pressed the button, and a second later, the doors peeled open. The hospital was quiet this time of night, so they rode up to the fourth floor alone—telemetry ward, whatever the hell that meant—and in silence, and a burst of anxiety hit like a sucker punch when they stopped.
It seemed to take forever for the doors to reopen, and when they did, he hurried out and glanced at the room numbers. He found his mother’s, took a deep breath, and walked in.
“Mom,” he said rushing to her, feeling like a complete jerk when he found her lying there, hooked up to wires and machinery. All this time he thought she’d been faking, but she wasn’t.
“Parker,” she said, her voice low and weak. In the semi-lit room, as a nurse took her vitals, she reached for him.
“Yeah, it’s me; I’m here. Are you okay?” He looked at the nurse for more information, but she didn’t say anything.
“Tonight of all night’s I thought it was indigestion,” she said, forcing a smile. “You know how much I love that spicy chili from Benny’s.” She made a face and said, “I helped myself to two bowls.”
“Mom,” he said, taking her hand.
“I’m fine,” she said. “It was just a slight heart attack.”
Slight? Was there really such a thing?
“They called your father, too,” she said.
“They did? Why?”
“His name is on my file. We’re still married, and he’s listed as my next of kin.”
Parker didn’t miss the longing in her voice. If he wasn’t mistaken, and he had to be, it sounded like she missed him. But how could that be? They hadn’t been together in four years, and all they did when there were together was butt heads—sort of like him and Layla.
“What’s the doctor saying?”
“He’s here now,” the nurse said, pointing behind him. “I’ll be back in to check on you later in the hour,” she said to his mom, giving her a comforting tap on the hand. The doctor stepped up beside his mother, and as he asked how she was feeling, Parker turned to find a very pale Layla bracing herself against the wall.
Shit.
He hurried to her and put his arm around her waist. “You need to sit.” She nodded and let him help her in the chair. He dropped to one knee and cupped her white face. “Layla, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let you come.”
“I want to be here for you.” She shook her head, took a deep breath in, and let it out slowly. “I’m okay, just old memories, you know. I’m fine now. I just needed a minute.” He pressed his forehead to hers and held her for a moment.
“Tough,” he said. “Toughest girl I know.”
“Go talk to the doctor,” she said, her warm breath falling over his face as she nudged him.
“You sure?”
“I’m sure. Now go. Your mother needs you.”
I want you to need me, too.
As that thought hit like a damn freight train, frightening him a little…okay, a lot…he moved to the bed and introduced himself to the doctor. “Mom said she had a slight heart attack.”
The doctor flipped through the chart he was holding and said, “We believe it’s unstable angina.”
Parker braced himself, fearing the worst. “That sounds really bad.”
“Not as bad as all that,” the doctor said. “Tomorrow we’ll do a stress test. If there are no problems, she’ll be discharged and given a prescription for Nitro, to be taken as needed.”
“And if there are problems?”
“Could be a blockage. We’d have to do a cardiac cath.”
“If discharged, she’ll need around-the-clock care, right?”
“Not—”
“I can take care of that.”
Parker spun around at the sound of his father’s voice. He stood for one shocked moment, then said, “I thought you were in Fiji.”
His dad shrugged, but there was real worry in his gaze as it flicked to Parker’s mom who was also staring at him with wide eyes. “Home now.” His father walked up to him and gave him a hug. “Good to see you, son.”
“You, too.”
“Charlotte,” he said breaking the hold on Parker to go see his wife. “You scared the hell out of me.”
“Oh, Albert, you think this is all about you,” she shot back.
Parker inched back to give them a moment to spar, more shocked than his mom to see his dad there.
“Hey,” Layla said, standing to put her arms around his waist. “That’s your dad, huh?”
He ran his hands through his hair. “Yeah. Weird, really,” he said lowering his voice to match hers. “I never thought he’d come here.”
“Who is this lovely lady with you, Parker?” his father said.
Parker spun. “Oh, ah, it’s Layla,” he said. “Layla Fallon, this is my dad, Albert and my mom, Charlotte.”
“Nice to meet you,” Layla said quietly. “I’ve heard a lot about you both.”
“Really?” his mom piped in, a new hue to her cheeks, as she narrowed her eyes. “And how come we’ve never heard anything about you?”
“Mom—” Parker began, but when a machine beeped, a reminder of her condition—not that he needed it—worry once again raced through him. How could he ha
ve believed she’d been faking? What a shit son he’d been.
“If you told her all about us, she must be special,” his mom said.
Parker swallowed and took a quick moment to consider his mother’s physical state. All she ever wanted was for him to settle down with a nice girl. Well, Layla was certainly a nice girl, even though he had no intentions of ever settling down with her. But under the circumstance he couldn’t tell his mom that. Right now he needed to say whatever she wanted to hear, to reduce her stress and make her happy.
“She’s my fiancée,” he blurted out without thinking, and Layla went completely stiff in his arms.
Both his mother’s and father’s eyes went wide. “Parker,” his mother said. “I had no idea.”
“This is great news, son,” his dad said.
“We’ve been keeping it a secret for now.” He gave a casual roll of one shoulder even though his insides were screaming at him. What the fuck are you doing, dude?
“You know how the tabloids are.”
“Layla, is it?” his mom asked, a new light in her eyes.
Layla tightened her hold on him. “Yes.”
“Come here, dear.” His mom lifted her hand and crooked her fingers. “Closer where I can see you.”
She reluctantly let him go and walked to the side of the bed. Parker stood there, his legs unmoving as his mind raced. Shit. Shit. Shit. Would she play along or put an end to this charade right now?
Layla was right. His car wasn’t stupid. He was.
“What a pretty little thing,” his mom said. “What do you do, Layla?”
“Art history student at Washington State.”
His mother smiled. “Oh, and smart, too.” She pulled one of Layla’s hands in to hers, but there was a measure of suspicion in her eyes. “Will you be attending the wedding next month?”
“Oh, yes. A Christmas wedding in Maine,” Layla said, her eyes bright and excited. “I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to that. So, romantic, and I’m anxious to meet Grant. Parker says they were close as kids.”
Holy. Shit. Beautiful, smart, and damn quick on her feet. A dangerous trifecta, that totally floored him. Seriously though, he couldn’t have been more grateful at the moment. His heart tripped as she smiled at him, leaving him feeling a bit lightheaded.
