by Jo Leigh
“That’s true. I’d forgotten.”
“It always sounded weird calling them the fish people.”
“They like it. It’s what they call themselves. Probably to annoy the tourists.” Ginny picked up her glass, thought again about refilling it.
“So, did you pick up their salty language too?”
“Salty? Very good.” They locked eyes for a second. Again, it was Ginny who looked away first. “No. I was too scared to cuss. I think my father would have disowned me. But we did hear some wild stories back then. I used to try to pretend I wasn’t one of the wealthy Waverly Hills crowd. The fish people were so much cooler.”
“Yeah. I learned a thing or two from that crowd when I was in my senior year at Bay High School.”
“Like?”
“Knowing where along the beach we could drink beer without the cops busting us. And how to sneak into the movies at the Rialto.”
“No.”
“Only twice. I hated it.”
“What else?” she asked surprised at this new side to him.
“Shoplifting.”
“You did not.” Her voice sounded much louder than she’d intended. “You were a poster child for the letter of the law.”
“It was a six-pack. I was scared spitless and never did it again.” He shook his head as he focused on his wineglass. “It’s actually a shame we couldn’t stay in Rhode Island. My mother liked it a lot, and I did too. I have some great memories of this place. And of you.”
Me? That couldn’t be true. He’d barely known she was alive... Although he had teased her a lot the odd times he’d been at home when she’d been invited to stay for dinner.
She sipped her wine, forbidding herself from thinking about what might have happened if they’d gotten together earlier. Knowing her, probably not much. Not back then, although it would have been a terrible shame. Perhaps they could have gotten to really know each other. She was tempted to tell him how often she’d dreamed about him, both awake and asleep, but sadly, she could see he regretted the admission.
After struggling for a moment to remember what they’d been talking about, somehow she managed to get back on track. “Meg told me you guys were very upset about having to leave San Diego.”
“We were. It was our second move in two years, but it was for my dad’s job. We just didn’t know what his real job was. He’d get transferred when his undercover work got too dicey. It was for our protection, apparently,” he said with that ever-present trace of bitterness. “Not that we’d ever been aware we needed any.”
“Is that why you had to leave Princeton?”
Even with the twilight sky, she could see Parker deflate. As if all the joy was leaching out of him. She’d crossed a line, and she hadn’t meant to. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, trying her best to take it back. “Forget I asked.”
“Nah, it’s okay,” he said, his shrug hardly convincing.
He no longer looked like the boy he’d been, and in his eyes there was a world of hurt. She cursed her big mouth but couldn’t think of a thing that would make it better. After a long silence, his lips parted, and she winced, waiting for him to make up some excuse to leave her house and forget about her forever.
“There was more than one reason why I left Princeton,” Parker said finally, his voice and expression devoid of emotion. “Although, I suppose you could say my father was the common denominator. At the time Meg disappeared he’d just infiltrated a very dangerous drug distribution ring, so he had no contact with my mom or even his boss.”
“But he knew about Meg.”
“No. He didn’t. Not for quite a while.”
“You told me yourself that he was on his way back from...I think it was Texas?”
“I lied.”
Ginny stared in confusion. “Why?”
“Because I couldn’t believe the bastard wouldn’t drop everything to go find his daughter or be with his wife.” Parker scrubbed at his face and exhaled. “Remember, at that point I didn’t know he worked for the DEA. I thought he was in Texas investigating a fraud case and got caught when a hurricane hit.”
Pressing her lips together, Ginny suppressed a whimper. Her stupid curiosity was making Parker relive that horrible time and now she didn’t know how to stop it.
“We’d already been relocated to Indiana before he caught up with us. A month had gone by, and still nothing from Meg. I think he was in shock at first, then the guilt sank in. But the rage that came after...” He shook his head. “I’d never seen him like that before. Neither had my mom. It scared her badly.”
Ginny practically stopped breathing. Her chest was so tight, she could barely move at all. She’d kept something from Parker, from everyone. Something that might’ve mattered...
“Obviously, by then I’d learned he’d been working for the DEA but when the two of them sat me down and told me the whole truth about his job, I actually felt relieved. Even knowing that someday he’d return to undercover work, put himself right back in danger, and that it was possible we might never see him again, as well.” He huffed a laugh. “What I didn’t know then... A week later he returned to Mexico under his alias. Can you believe that? Meg was still missing and he left.
“He said he wanted to go find her. He blamed himself and thought her disappearance was connected to his job. That’s why they’d initially relocated us. But too much time had passed. Even his boss was certain the organization they’d infiltrated had nothing to do with it.”
Parker stopped and poured them each more wine, staying focused on the bottle so she couldn’t see his eyes. His jaw was still clenched.
“Did he— Did you—” She cut herself short. Hadn’t she done enough, said too much? Not said enough?
“Did we see him again?” Parker asked. “Yep. For a few days. A couple months after that he was killed while undercover. Hard to tell if and when his cover was blown.”
Ginny felt moisture on her arm, but it wasn’t raining. She hadn’t realized she was crying. When she raised her hand to wipe the tears, it was trembling.
Then Parker was urging her to stand, and she snapped back to herself. She promptly moved away from him and picked up the plates and the napkins, before heading into the house. She should have brought the glasses too, and the wine bottle. When she turned around, she saw that Parker had carried them into the kitchen behind her.
“Ginny—” He took a step closer, but she scooted back until she met the counter.
“There’s something I need to tell you. Something you don’t know.”
“What’s that?” he asked, putting the wine down carefully.
“Meg came back two days after you and your mom disappeared.”
Parker froze except for a narrowing of his eyes. Ginny felt his stare like a laser burning straight through to her heart.
“She didn’t understand where you all had gone. She’d lost her cell phone after she’d left the train, and she’d let Danny talk her into going down to Florida with him. To run an errand for his boss. She’d been excited about riding in his fancy sports car. I think he might’ve kept her down there too long, but she didn’t say. She was too upset about your house being empty.
“I couldn’t tell her anything—I had no idea what was going on. In fact, I’d hoped that she’d tell me where you had gone.
“When I told her you and your mom had disappeared overnight, she was inconsolable. Devastated. I begged her to stay here until we found out where you were...” Ginny took a shuddering breath as her vision started to narrow. Finally, she closed her eyes. “Meg was convinced that your father had run off with another woman. I had nothing but her word to go on, but I still tried to tell her there could be another explanation. Meg wasn’t buying it. And I was so upset about you vanishing, I’m not sure I did everything possible to get her to stay.
“She didn’t even spend the night,�
�� Ginny said, the confession far more difficult than she’d expected. But with the truth out there, she was able to look at him again.
His bleak expression made her want to cry. Scream. Run. She’d done it again. Messed everything up. Sure, it had helped assuage her guilty conscience, but he looked as if he’d been run over by a train. “Did she mention his last name?”
Ginny had to think for a minute, feeling horrible about having told him anything at all at this point. “No. She didn’t. I only knew his name was Danny. And that he was ambitious, trying hard to curry favor with the big boss. She honestly didn’t say much more before she bolted.”
He swore quietly, vividly. But it was the helpless look in his eyes that got to her, as if she’d ripped open an old wound. She had no idea what he was thinking. Other than how much he must hate her.
If only she’d stopped a second to think, to consider what the truth would do to him. She was an utter fool. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice shaky and too soft. Trying again, she focused only on his pain. “I’m sorry. Truly. I should never have told you. That was a horrible thing to burden you with. I didn’t give it enough thought—”
The shaking had returned, only now it was her whole body, not just her voice. Against her will, hot tears escaped down her cheeks.
His warmth hit her first, then his nearness. By the time his arms had come around her, and he’d pulled her closer, she was drowning in confusion. The moment felt so surreal. Was this really happening, or had she entered some kind of fugue state?
“Shhh,” he whispered. “You’re wrong. I’m relieved to know Meg came back. My mom will be glad to know too. At least we know she cared. That she didn’t run away from us.”
“But I should have tried harder to get through to her,” she said, mostly into the safety of his chest as he gently rocked her. And while his kindness soothed her, it deepened her guilt at the same time.
She hadn’t told him the whole truth, not even close. He still knew nothing about Tilda, about her own devil’s bargain.
When he pulled back and lifted her chin with his fingers, she didn’t try to stop him. And when he lowered his lips to hers, she met him halfway.
His kiss was careful, gentle. For a moment, her body stilled, the tremors replaced by memories and longing. It was her hand that moved up to his nape while she pressed her mouth a little harder against his. The kiss remained chaste. Nothing more, but when she heard a faint moan coming from the back of his throat, she parted her lips slightly.
Except he didn’t do anything. His lips had firmed, they weren’t moving at all. Embarrassed, she broke contact and stepped back.
They just stood there, staring at each other as if they’d never met before.
His eyes had darkened, his face was strained.
Of course. He was being smart.
Or he simply wasn’t attracted to her anymore. Now twice as flustered, Ginny inched back, putting more distance between them.
Only Parker’s hands tightened around her, and he kissed her until she parted her lips again. She tasted him; the wine, the spice and the scent of him stirring a visceral sensation inside her, something long buried and kept separate from her real life.
When she felt how hard her heart was pounding, and that his was racing just as fast, her good sense kicked in—not without a fight though. But she pulled back, caught her breath, then stepped away from the circle of his arms.
She knew she was flushed, knew he had felt her excitement, but she hadn’t expected him to look so wrecked. And she didn’t know what it meant, exactly.
“I think I should go upstairs,” she said, barely able to maintain eye contact. “You going to be all right? You know where everything is?”
His nod came slowly. He cleared his throat. It took a few seconds after that for him to speak. “I’ll be fine. Thanks again for letting me stay here.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, giving herself a little more distance, just to be safe.
He turned and walked out of the kitchen but then he paused and looked at her. “I had a really nice time tonight.”
She smiled, couldn’t help it. It wasn’t even nine o’clock yet. “Me too. Sleep well.”
He looked down at the floor, then back at her. All he did was smile before he left, and it was just perfect.
CHAPTER TEN
THE NEXT MORNING Ginny was in the kitchen scooping coffee grounds. She was wearing a different robe this time. It was pastel blue with a belt and thick lapels. It looked soft. So did she.
He lingered in the doorway, not saying anything, but something made her turn around. When she saw him, she tugged the lapels closer together.
“Morning,” he said.
Her gaze ran down his black T-shirt to his jeans, which were a little snug from the dryer. His feet were bare because he hadn’t found a matching pair of socks. Her inspection stalled there. He wondered if she had a thing about feet.
With very pink cheeks, she asked, “How’d you sleep?”
“Great,” he lied. “Terrific. Best night I’ve had in ages.” Actually, she’d kept him awake for hours. They’d gone their separate ways after the kiss, but that hadn’t stopped the memory from making him nuts. He’d stared intermittently at the ceiling for hours, knowing her bedroom was right above him. “How about you?”
“Great. I thought I might be worried about Tilda being away, but I crashed hard. I didn’t wake once until a few minutes ago...” She changed the subject to the weather, and he smiled, feeling a whole lot better knowing that her night hadn’t been a cakewalk either.
The way she’d turned didn’t hide how her blush had reheated, or that she’d spilled almost a whole scoop of coffee grounds. If that wasn’t a giveaway, her chattering would’ve done the trick. She did that when she was nervous. Her “tells” were the same now as they’d been fifteen years ago.
After she wiped up the coffee, she got out the milk and put it on the counter, then went back to the fridge and pulled out a carton of eggs.
“Am I making you nervous? Do you want me to leave?”
“What? No.”
“I don’t mind. The hotels should have some vacancies once the reunion activities are over.”
“How long are you staying?”
“Here? Till tomorrow morning, or whenever you say the word.”
“No, I mean...how long are you staying in Temptation Bay?”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure yet. Told my business partner I’d get back by next weekend, but there’s nothing written in stone.” He watched her cinch the belt of her robe for the second time. “You sure I’m not making you nervous?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I just need to get ready to meet the girls for brunch. I haven’t showered yet and I’m not sure what to wear. According to Harlow I’ve got some explaining to do about being AWOL last night. Anyway, I need to get ready.”
Parker held back a grin. “I’ll finish up with the coffee if you like.”
“That’s okay—I have to dump it all out and start counting again.” At that, she spun around facing away from him. “I have no idea when I’ll be back from whatever else they have us doing this afternoon. You’ll be on your own most of the day. It’s probably going to bore you to death.”
“I can amuse myself while you’re gone,” he said, walking slowly toward her. “I might even take a drive up the coast. See it before the storm hits. Maybe check out the fish market. I assume most of your friends are leaving today. I could grill us something for dinner. That is, if you don’t have other plans.”
“Nope. None at all.”
“You might want to reconsider me putting up the storm windows. Or boarding up the ones in the front of the house. According to the latest news, the hurricane is swinging back to the east, so the winds will be picking up again. Which is why leaving at the end of the week is sounding better and better.”
Ginny sighed, and it wasn’t the sound of her being thrilled he was going to stick around. She probably wouldn’t have let it be that obvious if she’d realized how close he was to her. Before he scared the daylights out of her, he cleared his throat.
She whirled around so fast, it was lucky she wasn’t holding a knife. He wrapped his hands around her upper arms to avoid a collision.
Her inhale was sharp, her pupils getting darker by the second. Loosening his grip, he thought about stepping back.
Or not.
He sure hadn’t expected her to lean into him. Not enough that it made him too cocky though. She was staring at him as if she didn’t know whether to smile or run for cover.
“It’s nice of you to offer. About the storm shutters. But I have someone. A local handyman. Lee. If he thinks I need any preparations, he’ll come and do them. He’s been a real godsend.”
She’d moved so she was no longer pressing against him, but her pupils were still dark. Probably due to the fright he’d given her. Nothing else.
So why hadn’t he lowered his hands?
Ginny didn’t seem too bothered by their current status, and the deeper he looked into her eyes, the further he seemed to fall into whatever this was. Thoughts flooded his brain, thoughts of holding her in his arms, tasting her lips, trailing kisses down her throat...
That kind of thinking was going to land him on his ass outside her front door. He needed to change that up real quick. Trying to distract himself, he looked around the kitchen. His gaze landed on an old photo of Ginny with a baby Tilda in her arms. Ginny had practically been a child herself, he realized. He couldn’t understand how her father had left her to live on her own, a young single mother with a child to support. And the man was just now paying attention because he wanted the kudos of a bright, inquisitive and potentially successful granddaughter? What kind of despicable person would sit back and let his own motherless child fend for herself?
And where was Tilda’s father, anyway? He must have been a moron for walking away from Ginny, let alone her being pregnant.
