by Zoey Parker
“I do?” I asked.
“Don’t you think so? Oh, please don’t tell me I just made a huge fool of myself,” she whispered.
“I do, I do.” I held her closer. “I do think that. I just didn’t know you could see it in my face.”
“I can. That means more to me than this. Being in bed together, I mean. Don’t get me wrong—it’s good. It’s unreal, how good it is. But it’s not everything. Maybe it’s so good because you do look at me like that. I carry that around inside me, and when we’re together, I remember it. Okay, so now I feel like a huge fool.” She put her head down again, burrowing her body close to mine. I still had my arms around her, and I didn’t say a word as I stroked her back.
She was starting to feel things for me. I knew it would happen if I gave it enough time—you didn’t spend a week with a person, having sex every night, without starting to feel a little something. Not when you were already drawn together the way we were.
The worst part of all was not knowing how I felt about her. Because when I held her, I thought about never letting go.
Chapter 20
Ellie
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I couldn’t help the nervous tone in my voice when Parker pulled my car up in front of the diner.
“You’re the one who thinks he finally backed off,” Parker said. “I mean, if it were up to me, no. You wouldn’t be doing this. But you need to live, and you won’t accept any more help from me, so…”
“And I mean that,” I said. “I can’t be your charity case.”
“Would you stop saying it like that? I hate that.”
“It’s true, though. I can’t let you support me. I let another man support me once, and look where it got me. I have no usable job skills outside of a bachelor’s degree, which in today’s job market is roughly the same as having a high school diploma used to be. A necessity, but it doesn’t say anything about the person who has it. I’m already four years behind everybody my age. I can’t let you pull me any further behind.”
“Is that how you see it?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual. “I’m pulling you further behind by offering to help you?”
“No. It came out all wrong. I know what I’m thinking in my head—why does it keep getting all messed up between my brain and my mouth?” I sighed, feeling clumsy and stupid. “I only mean I can’t let myself take what feels like the easy way out. I appreciate it, but let’s be honest: it would be the easy way out for me, wouldn’t it?”
“Maybe you deserve to have something be easy for once,” he said. “I mean, you earned it.”
“But I don’t want easy. I want a challenge. Who doesn’t want a challenge in their life? Otherwise, life is boring. So I have to try to support myself, and my daughter. Even if it means going in there when I know he might walk in.”
“But he won’t,” Parker said. He sounded awfully sure of himself.
“How can you be so sure?”
“I just know. And don’t forget, you can call me if anything happens. I want you to. Promise?” Then, without warning, he pulled me to him. “By the way, I can be a challenge. If that’s what you’re looking for.” His sheer magnetism almost drove me crazy, just like his hands did, and the way his mouth barely grazed my skin. He didn’t kiss me, didn’t even fondle me. But he promised so much more.
I lost my breath, then chuckled shakily. “Down, cowboy,” I whispered, extracting myself from his grip. “Or I might lose control right here in the car. I do need to keep my job. Even if I still have one after skipping almost two weeks, I think Jimmy might draw the line somewhere.”
He chuckled, groaning as he adjusted the bulge in his jeans. I eyed it, biting my lip. Damn him for being so sexy.
He settled for a deep, searching kiss that sent tongues of fire down to my toes. “Something to think about while you’re working,” he growled.
“Great. Now everybody’s order will be all screwed up.” I laughed, climbing from the car on shaky knees. I leaned in before closing the door. “Ten o’clock, right?”
“I’ll be here,” he promised.
I already couldn’t wait.
When I walked through the diner door, Sandy nearly tackled me. I laughed, a little overwhelmed but happy that she was happy to see me.
“I’ve missed you around here!” She looked at me critically, like we hadn’t seen each other in years instead a little more than a week.
“Sandy, you were at my place not that long ago. Remember?”
“I know, I know, but something’s different about you. I can’t put my finger on it.” She looked serious, too. I waited for her diagnosis. Then she smiled cattily. “I know what it is.” She walked away, whistling, while my cheeks burned.
“Cut it out,” I said, tying an apron around my waist. I was glad for a light crowd at three in the afternoon, or even more customers might have been privy to my sex life. As it was, the few elderly couples taking advantage of the senior citizen discount didn’t seem to pay much attention.
“What? I’m happy for you. You’re finally getting some. And, unless I’m completely crazy, it’s gotta be pretty good. Right? I mean, just look at the man. A sex god if I ever saw one.”
“Yes, you told me your thoughts on that when he first came in, remember? You wanted to, ahem, climb him like a tree.”
Sandy hooted. “Yes, ma’am. If you weren’t already getting some of that, I would do it.”
“He’s not my man, if that’s what you’re implying.” I walked away, getting an order pad, pens, straws, and putting them all in the pockets of my apron. How could it be that everything seemed so foreign after such a short time? Probably because I felt like a different person. Sandy wasn’t off her mark when she said something had changed about me. It seemed like almost everything had changed.
“Please, honey. So what if he is? You deserve a stallion, somebody who can help you live it up while you’re still young enough to live it up. I mean, look at some of these old geezers in here.”
“Sandy!” I whispered, looking around.
“Oh, please. They can’t hear me when I scream at the top of my lungs directly in front of them.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Do you want to wake up one day and realize you’re as old as them and you never lived your life? I mean, think about it. You had a shitty marriage. You’re only twenty-five, though. You have plenty of time to make up for it. Start making up, stop burying yourself.”
She left me with that, going to one of her tables to refill decaf coffee. She wasn’t kidding about having to holler at the older customers. She practically shrieked, yet they still couldn’t make out her words. I wondered if they were only screwing with her.
She wasn’t kidding about me burying myself either. I gave it a lot of thought for the first hour or two of my shift, before the dinner rush hit. I polished silverware and rolled it into napkins, married the ketchups, did all the side work I’d skipped out on when I hid at home. I had to make things up to Sandy somehow. All the while, I thought about what she’d said. I acted as though my life were over, like my marriage ended and that was that. I was a mother, yes, but a young one. Lots of young people got divorces when their marriages didn’t work out, called them “starter” marriages, and moved on to the “real” one. Not that I looked to get married again, but it didn’t mean I couldn’t have a little fun. I didn’t have to put on a chastity belt and leave it there.
It might have been easier if Parker weren’t a biker. I couldn’t kid myself into thinking it was anything other than that. If he were, say, a firefighter, I wouldn’t feel the same way. Then I thought about Parker in a sexy firefighter uniform, which distracted me for a while.
If he were that, or any other profession on the right side of the law, it wouldn’t have been a big deal. I would have been proud of being with him. I wouldn’t feel as though I had to play down the way I felt. Because I did have feelings for him—there was no other way to describe it. He had proven to me that not all men hit, not all men hurt, not all men
would run around and cheat and lie and make me feel unworthy or unlovable in the process.
It might have helped, too, if I had any idea how he felt about me. I was thinking about it as Sandy came over, giving me the heads up on a new table.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked. “You look like something’s bothering you.”
“No…I mean, not exactly. I just wish I knew what he felt.”
“Parker, you mean?”
“Yes.” No use pretending.
“He looked pretty upset when I told him you hadn’t been here all week,” she said.
“That’s one thing, being concerned. I mean, how does he feel now? After…you know.” I blushed a little.
“Why don’t you put on your big girl panties and ask him?” she replied.
“Yes. I guess I should do that.” It was just about the last thing I wanted to do, though. “Men like him don’t talk about feelings.”
“I’ve known a lot of men, honey. And when a man like that finds the woman he feels something for, he talks about his feelings. Now go, take care of that table. Make up for some of the money you lost out on.” She smacked my fanny, making me hurry off.
***
“Gosh, I’m out of practice.” I grinned at Sandy, rolling my aching feet on my equally aching ankles. It had been a long, challenging shift, but a profitable one, as I’d made nearly a hundred dollars in tips. The thought of having a little money in my wallet lifted a worry from my shoulders.
I sat at the counter while the next shift got themselves ready. I wasn’t very familiar with either of the girls—Jimmy thought Sandy and I worked best together, and he was right. I rarely worked with anyone else.
Sandy sat beside me, putting her feet up on the empty stool next to hers.
“Hey, hey!” Jimmy called out. “Feet off the stools! How many times have you told customers that same thing?”
“Oh, buzz off,” Sandy retorted breezily. “I just made a bunch of money for your greasy spoon tonight by upselling the desserts. You owe me a stool to rest my feet on.”
I only laughed at their banter, marveling at how nice it was to hear adult conversation again. Not that Parker wasn’t good company in his way, but I had always liked being around people. Aside from the fact that it didn’t pay very much, working at the diner was perfect for me.
“Why don’t you go?” I asked Sandy. “I know Parker will be here any minute for me.”
“And miss the opportunity to feast my eyes once again? No way, sweetie. I want something to dream about when I go to bed.” She closed her eyes, smiling.
I had to giggle. “Fine, just don’t be too obvious about it, okay? And pretty please, don’t make any jokes about us sleeping together. Okay?”
“Sure, sure. Whatever you say.”
I didn’t trust her one bit, but I didn’t have a choice.
I saw the Lexus pull up in the parking lot. “Oh, there he is now,” I said. I waved goodbye to Jimmy, then Sandy followed me out the door.
“Right on time. He must be excited to see you,” Sandy murmured.
“You said you would be good,” I reminded her.
“Sorry. I had to get it out of my system.” We laughed together as we stepped outside, but the laughter died in my throat when I realized my mistake. I had seen a Lexus pull up, all right—not mine, though. Connor’s.
“You fucking slut!” He advanced on us, eyes bulging out, face bright red. I saw the veins popping out on the side of his neck.
“Quick!” Sandy tugged my hand. “Back inside! Come on!”
“Call the police,” I said to her, not turning away from my husband. “Please.”
“What do you think they’re gonna do?” he screamed. “You think they’re gonna arrest me for being here? For asking my wife what right she has acting like some common biker slut?”
My mouth fell open. “You’ve been watching me?” I asked, terrified and infuriated at once. The emotions mixed strangely together, creating a sort of calm. Maybe even numbness. “I can’t believe you would stoop that low, Connor.”
“And I can’t believe you would ride around with that biker! A filthy fucking biker! Who is he, huh? Who do you have in bed with you at night? Who do you have around my daughter? And you think you’re such a good mother! What the hell is wrong with you, you stupid bitch?” He cornered me against the diner’s front wall. By that time, the customers must have heard what was going on. Connor screamed so loudly, I thought he would damage his vocal chords and my ears.
Nobody came outside to help me. Even in the panic racing through me at his nearness and the wild, crazed look in his eye, I thought it might be for the best. I didn’t want him to escalate any further.
“Tell me who he is. Tell me who he is so I can kill him. It’s the one from inside, right? The one in the kitchen that night. You’re such a slut, you would fuck any random guy who came in here as long as he made you feel like he was saving you from me. Right? Because you’re always the victim!”
His rage was deep and terrible. Why did he hate me so much? It was all I could think of, even more than the possible danger. I could only wonder what I had done to make him hate me the way he did.
I opened my mouth to answer him—what I was about to say, I didn’t know—when, once again, a pair of hands wrenched him away from me. Just like they had back in the kitchen. That first time, Parker had only looked concerned. Weeks later, he looked murderous.
“Oh, it’s you!” Connor laughed, sounding hysterical. “I should have known. Your slut’s ready to go home, biker trash.”
Parker didn’t say a word. He only pulled back his right fist, slamming it into Connor’s nose. Blood immediately spurted from it. Connor crumpled to the ground.
“Don’t! No more!” I pulled Parker away, hoping he would come to his senses before he murdered my ex-husband in the parking lot.
Parker turned to me, his eyes blazing. I’d never been so turned on by something so brutal. “Are you okay?”
I nodded. “He never touched me. I’m fine.”
He jerked his arm out of my grasp, then turned back to Connor. Leaning over him, he said, “The only reason I’m leaving you alive is because she’s here, and you didn’t touch her. If you had, I’d kill you right now. Tell that to your buddies at the police station, you piece of shit.” He spat on the ground to punctuate his statement.
“I’ll…sue…you.” Connor could hardly speak through the blood flowing down his face and into his mouth. I watched with a sort of detached fascination as his smart tan trench coat got spattered.
“Yeah, you can try. I bet I have a bunch of witnesses right inside who could tell what you did to her before I got her off you. If you tripped and fell after that, nothing I could do about it.”
Connor looked stunned. He opened his mouth as though to speak but clearly thought better of it.
“If you ever go near her again, I’ll kill you,” Parker said. Every word struck fear in my heart, even as the rest of me responded lustily at the thought of a man saying that about me. He would kill Connor. I believed he would. And for me. It was sick, and I knew it, but I couldn’t help the way I felt.
Parker stepped back when Connor tried to get up. He stumbled back to his car, still holding his spurting nose. “I’ll make you pay for this,” he said before getting into his car and peeling out of the parking lot.
Parker didn’t seem to care. He turned, gathering me in his arms. “I’m sorry I had to do that,” he said. “I couldn’t stand seeing him in front of you like that. I had to do something.”
“I’m glad you did,” I assured him, resting my head against his chest. In my heart, though, I was anything but glad after Connor’s threat. His words echoed in my head long after his taillights faded in the distance.
Chapter 21
“I’m here to file a restraining order against my ex-husband.”
The cop behind the desk looked at me with an expression severely lacking in sympathy. In fact, if he had said, “You, too?�
�� I wouldn’t have been surprised. “Okay, well, it’s not as easy as they say it is on TV,” he informed me, sounding as though he were reading from a script.
“I’m sure it isn’t,” I said. “Still, I want to file one.” It took everything in me to stand there and say that. Every good girl instinct in me said to stand down, let the officer do his job, believe what he says, go along with him. I’d been raised that way. Listen to them, trust them, obey them. In most cases, that was a fine attitude to have. Not in this one. I had to stand strong, though my knees shook.
At least he didn’t roll his eyes. “Okay. Have a seat, and somebody will call you.”
