by Holly Jacobs
He was alone with Parker.
She shot him another odd glance.
Maybe it was that almost kiss. After her story, he’d simply wanted to comfort her. His princess. Comfort. Nothing more.
But the looks couldn’t just be about the kiss the twins had interrupted. She’d been giving him strange ones all day, ever since her trip to the beauty salon.
He couldn’t see much difference in her hair. Maybe they’d messed with her mind. Put some beauty-shop whammy on her.
Some of the looks had a puzzled sort of air to them. Sometimes he thought there might be something more than confusion to them. They seemed to have an almost hungry, hard-to-define feeling that echoed his own mixed-up yearnings.
“We’re here,” he said.
Parker had been staring right at him, but her eyes looked sort of glazed. She seemed startled when he spoke.
“What?” she asked.
She was out of it.
Whacked.
Jace didn’t want to beat around the bush, so he said, “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.”
She gave herself a little shake and seemed to get herself back in focus. “Nothing’s wrong. Why would you ask something like that?”
“Because you’re acting weird.”
“I’m being stalked not just by you but by a multitude of men—my father’s choice of a fiancé, his henchmen. It makes sense that I’d be a bit—”
Jace wasn’t buying it. “This is something more.”
“You’re wrong.” She paused a moment and said, “So are you going to invite me into your house?”
“I guess,” he said, opening the door on his side and stepping onto the driveway.
He suddenly understood Parker’s hesitancy about having someone new in your home. He wondered what she’d see when she looked at his.
“Parker, about…” He paused.
“The kiss?” she asked, her voice low and husky. “You’re nervous about the kiss at the shop or the fact that we almost kissed again in your car before the twins arrived?”
He walked toward the front door. “Nervous? Listen, lady, I’ve kissed a lot of women. I mean a lot of women. It was just a kiss. Nothing that would make me nervous.”
He was thankful she was behind him and couldn’t see his expression. He wasn’t sure he looked any more convinced than he felt.
“It was more than just a kiss,” she said, suddenly at his side. “I’ve been kissed before and this was more.”
“I was right,” he said with an aha tone in his voice, “they did something to you at the beauty salon. You sniffed too many chemicals or—”
“Listen,” she teased, “if you’re so afraid for your virtue, let’s get back in the truck and go. Take me home.”
“I’m not afraid of my virtue. My virtue is just fine. I’m just fine,” he said, realizing how not fine he sounded even as he spoke. But despite the fact that he knew he should stop, he continued, “Maybe I’m afraid for your virtue. Did you ever think of that? I mean, you’re a princess, after all.”
“And you’re so tempting, I can’t resist your charms?” She laughed. “Don’t flatter yourself. My virtue is perfectly safe with you.”
She didn’t have to sound so certain or look so amused at the thought. If he wanted to, he could compromise her virtue, but he was too much of a gentleman.
Okay, so maybe he wasn’t that much of a gentleman.
Hell, maybe he wasn’t a gentleman at all and that’s what scared him.
“So what’ll it be, lover boy?” she asked, a challenge in her voice.
“Whatever,” he said with a shrug. He unlocked the door and held it open for her. “Come on in.”
Parker studied Jace’s living room. It was a mishmash of clutter.
A kids’ video system was plugged into a huge television, controllers snaked into the middle of the floor and a variety of games lay scattered helter-skelter around them.
There was a colorful throw on the back of a neutral tan couch. The coffee table had a large stack of magazines on one end and an open newspaper on the other.
The overall effect, although messy, seemed to scream home. A warm, inviting, lived-in atmosphere that said kick off your shoes and just relax.
“Want some coffee?” Jace asked and started toward what had to be the kitchen without waiting for a response.
“Tea?” she asked, trailing after him.
“Yeah, I think Shelly bought some.” He started digging through a cupboard and, without looking back at her, said, “Speaking of Shelly, that was nice of you to offer her a job.”
“Not nice at all,” Parker said, pulling a stool up to the island. “She needed work and I needed someone to watch the place. You said you’d both done that kind of thing when you were younger. It just made sense.”
“It was nice anyway.”
“I wanted to get out of there.” Parker felt a wave of contentment sweep over her, and she leaned on the countertop in the very lived-in-looking kitchen.
This was what she’d dreamed about. Such a very simple dream for a life filled with such complicated expectations.
“Princess,” Jace said softly, “no matter where you are, you stand out. Royal or no, you’d stand out. Look at the friends you’ve made. Cara and Shey—they’d do anything for you, not because you’re a princess but because you’re you. Special.”
Like her mother, Parker gave an inelegant snort.
“Really. I knew that after tailing you only a day or two… When you went to see the Otters in the finals even. You were wearing jeans and a team sweatshirt. Even if I hadn’t been following you, I would have noticed you. You were so intense, watching the game, cheering them on. When they got a goal, I thought you were going to give yourself a heart attack, the way you were screaming and hopping up and down. I didn’t need a file to tell me, didn’t even have to meet you in person to know that you were special. It sort of radiated off you.”
Something dangerous rose in her chest and spread in a warm wave throughout her body. She felt hot and tingly.
“Jace,” she murmured.
“And ever since that day, I haven’t been able to get you off my mind. And it wasn’t in a work sort of way, it was more. It’s been worse since Waldemeer. When you won that frog and we took that ride on the Whacky Shack… I can’t stop…thinking about you, Parker.”
Chapter Seven
Jace knew he needed to keep his distance.
He knew that he and Parker were worlds apart.
He knew that nothing between them could ever work out long-term.
And finally, he knew that the last thing in the world he should do was kiss her. Because if they kissed again, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop there.
But maybe it was already too late, because he couldn’t seem to stop himself from moving toward her. Seemingly of their own volition, his arms wrapped around her, pulling her close…closer…closer, with excruciating slowness.
He almost hoped she’d say no, she’d give him some indication that she didn’t want this.
But she didn’t.
As a matter of fact, she closed the last bit of distance separating them, wrapped her arms around his neck and moved toward the kiss.
“Parker?” he whispered, needing to know she was sure.
“Yes,” she said.
That one word was all the invitation he needed.
He didn’t move slowly now.
No tender introduction.
No soft caress.
He pulled her tight, lowered his lips to hers and kissed her with all the longing and desire he’d been so desperately trying to hold back.
Hot.
Very hot.
Parker could hardly breathe beneath the heat of Jace’s touch, but she felt as if she didn’t need to breathe as long as he was holding her.
Parker had read the phrase she melted in one of the books Cara had sent home with her, but she’d never experienced the phenomenon…until now. Until this mome
nt.
Until Jace.
She pressed against him, wanting—no, needing—to be as close as she could, to leave nothing separating them.
“Cherry Coke,” he murmured. “Your lips taste like Cherry Coke.”
“It’s my lip balm,” she said softly, hearing the laughter in her own voice.
The laughter did nothing to diffuse the heat she felt. If anything, it intensified her feelings, magnifying them.
His laughter echoed hers. “No, it’s not lip balm. It’s you. Sweet and tart.”
“Hot,” she murmured.
“Hot. Sweet. Tart. All wrapped up into one package, into you.”
They kissed again, and Jace reached behind her, untucking her shirt. His hand rested lightly on her back. But despite the softness of his touch, there was a zing to it, an awareness. There was more than that. There was a need.
Parker sighed and let herself be carried away by the sensations. The feel of his lips, his hand on her bare skin… She lost herself in a sea of emotion until she didn’t know where she started and where he stopped.
“Parker, I want you,” he said.
“But—”
“They’re there…all those reasons,” he said. “I know all the buts—I’ve listed each and every one of them over and over, trying to use them as a barrier to help me maintain my distance. I know why I shouldn’t want you like this, but it’s there and it’s growing. You’re not a job, not a princess. I need you…not your title, not your past. You. Who you are now. I want—”
“I want you, too,” she admitted.
She stepped out of his embrace and took his hand, moving toward the stairway.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yes, I—”
… want you. That’s how she’d planned to end that sentence. She might tack on an admission—that she knew all the reasons why they shouldn’t go further. But she planned to ignore them, as well, because at this moment, that was all that mattered.
But before the words got out, the front door flew open and Bobby and Amanda came into the living room.
Amanda was in tears and Bobby looked mad enough to spit nails.
Bobby slammed the door shut and Amanda gave a small, startled jerk.
Parker opened her arms and the girl rushed into her embrace.
“What happened?” Jace asked.
“Dad,” Bobby said, his tone far too mature for someone who hadn’t even started high school yet. “He finally got home from running in to work for a while and said he had some big dinner and show tonight. Thought he’d leave us at his house while he went out. I said no. If he didn’t want to spend time with us, take us home.”
“He hasn’t seen us in three weeks,” Amanda said with a hiccuped sob.
“And I don’t care if we ever see him again. That’s what I told him.”
“Bobby and Dad got into the biggest fight ever,” Amanda said.
“I hate him,” Bobby said.
Parker looked at the boy and wondered if his father realized just what a precious thing he was losing.
“If you hated him, I don’t think it would hurt so much. You have to care for it to hurt. I know all about it,” she said softly.
Jace put a hand on the young boy’s shoulder. “You can’t control others. All you can do is control yourself.”
“Where’s Mom?” Amanda asked.
“She’s got a job,” Parker said.
“A job?” Amanda said. “I know she was worried.”
“Why don’t we order pizza and get a few movies and wait for her to get home. I’m sure she’ll have a lot to tell us,” Jace said.
Parker looked at him, his hand still on his nephew’s shoulder. Something bigger than before swamped her system, filling her to the point of overflowing.
It wasn’t just longing and need.
It was something bigger.
Something new.
Something like…love.
She sighed as she held on to Amanda.
His eyes met hers, and suddenly all her worries about right and wrong, about shoulds and shouldn’ts, disappeared. All that was left was this man.
For now that was enough.
Jace looked at the woman sleeping in his arms. She’d been a godsend, distracting the kids, entertaining them.
She’d dozed off about an hour ago, right before Shelly had come home and shepherded the kids off to bed.
He probably should have woken her then, but he didn’t. Instead he sat next to her on the couch just holding her.
He wasn’t sure what was happening. He’d never had a problem remaining objective before, but he couldn’t keep any distance between himself and Parker.
He wanted her.
But it wasn’t just physical.
He’d outlined all her qualities earlier, but it was more than the sum of the pieces that made up who she was. Maybe it was the way each piece fit with the next.
Or maybe it was the way each of her pieces fit with his. It really didn’t matter what it was. It only mattered that there was something about her, about this woman, that was different than any other woman he’d ever met. Some indiscernible Parker quality that made her just what he’d been looking for, even though if asked, he’d have denied he’d been looking at all.
Perfect except for the fact that she didn’t just come from the other side of the tracks—she came from an entirely different rail system so far out of his reach that he’d never be able to catch and hold her.
She stirred and sat up, looking at him. “What time is it?”
“About midnight, I think.”
He unwound his fingers from her hair as she sat up.
“You should have woken me,” she said, smoothing her hair back.
“I liked watching you sleep,” he admitted.
She looked flustered. He liked that, as well. Liked that he could confuse her. After all, it only seemed fair. She confused him regularly.
“You snore,” he said, just to rile her.
It worked.
Right on cue, she frowned and her eyes narrowed. “I do not snore.”
“Oh, yeah, a princess who snores. I bet I could make a mint from the tabloids. Imagine the headline, Princess Parker Saws Z’s.”
For a moment he wondered if she was going to withdraw at the mention of her princessness. But she just chuckled and mock-slugged him.
A small lock of her hair fell into her face, and Jace reached over and brushed it back behind her ear.
She froze. The smile on her face slowly faded and a look of intensity replaced it.
For a moment, a brief moment, he thought she was going to kiss him. But the moment passed and she pulled back and said, “I should be going. It’s late.”
She stood and looked ready to bolt.
And though he knew her leaving was probably for the best, it didn’t feel that way. He didn’t want her to go. Didn’t want to be separated from her for even a moment.
“The prince might still be watching your house,” he said.
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “It’s time I face him. It’s time I face a lot of things.”
“Not necessarily tonight, though,” he said. “I mean, you could stay here and then face him fresh in the morning.”
“Shelly and the kids are here. You don’t have room for another houseguest.”
He hadn’t thought of that. His sister and the kids had his two extra rooms.
“There’s my room.”
“I don’t think that’s appropriate.”
“Not with me. I mean, I can bunk with Bobby. There are two twin beds in his room.”
“I don’t—”
“Please,” he said. “Think about the kids—they’d love to have you here when they get up in the morning.”
“Jace—”
“I’ll be with Bobby. I won’t come near your door.” He raised his hand and held up a few fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
Parker studied his fingers a moment. He could see she was trying not to smile as she s
aid, “I don’t think that’s the right sign. Were you ever a Scout?”
He laughed and dropped his hand as he shook his head. “No.”
She couldn’t hold back any longer and smiled. “I didn’t think so.”
This…this light teasing, Parker smiling. Moments like this were beginning to mean a lot to Jace.
Maybe too much.
“So, what do you say? Spend the night, hang with the kids.” He paused and tried to think of a way to up the ante. “And I’ll even throw in Belgian waffles for breakfast.”
“You cook?” she asked, looking suspicious.
“Sure, I cook.” Okay, so maybe saying he cooked was a bit of an exaggeration. But he could make a great waffle.
“You’re the one who was telling me I have to stop running. I should go home and face Tanner. Face a lot of things.”
“Maybe. But not tonight. Stay,” he said quietly.
“Fine,” she said, still studying him, as if she wasn’t sure he was telling the truth. “Waffles it is.”
“Come on, then,” he said, walking toward the stairs. “I’ll get you tucked in.”
She shook her head. “I think I’d be better off tucking myself, thanks.”
“Spoilsport,” he said as he chuckled.
Parker Dillon had just agreed to spend the night in his bed.
Too bad he’d be bunking with Bobby.
Parker’s stomach growled as she tiptoed out of Jace’s house the next morning.
When she’d decided to stay over last night, she’d fully intended to stick around and try those waffles.
But her restless night convinced her she’d better not.
She’d snuggled under the covers, ready to fall right to sleep. Goodness knows she was tired enough. But the bedding had smelled of Jace.
There was this little dip in the mattress, and she’d convinced herself that that small divot was where Jace must sleep every night. She’d spent a long time wondering what kind of pajamas he wore…wondering if he wore any.
When she’d finally drifted off, she’d dreamed of him.
She wondered what it would be like if she was just a woman, he was just a man. Two people with no complications.
But there were plenty of complications—some of which she could do something about.
So no matter how loud her stomach’s protest was, she knew she had to go. The next time she saw Jace, she wanted to be as free and clear as she could possibly be.
