by Lacey Baker
Chapter 10
Drew lay perfectly still, hands cradled beneath her cheek, legs pulled up to her chest in a fetal position. The bed shifted. Parker was awake. She actually believed he’d been awake for some time now, like the last forty-five minutes, each second that she had also been awake. They both lay in her bed listening to the morning sounds—birds chirping, gulls squawking around the shore, looking for breakfast. Though her windows were closed, living so close to the seashore assured she’d hear whatever sounds were outside regardless. Normally it was a calming sound, the sound of routine and serenity, and she loved it.
This morning it was like a ticking time bomb. Each chirp, each squawk, the sound of a car driving by—probably a fisherman heading down to the dock to his boat—was like a countdown in her head. The countdown for the moment Parker would get up and sneak out of her apartment as he’d done before. Drew wondered if she would let him go this time, as she’d done before. Or should she jump up the moment he did and make him confront her, make him tell her why he was leaving, why he hadn’t held her last night, or why he wouldn’t have breakfast with her this morning and possibly dinner with her later tonight? She wondered if she should even care that he couldn’t commit or that he wouldn’t commit. Then she thought of why she shouldn’t commit, why a repeat of her past mistakes was not an option for her this time.
When Parker rose from the bed, paused, probably to see if she was awake, then walked across the floor heading to the bathroom, she didn’t move.
Drew didn’t open her eyes. She didn’t speak. She did nothing—just as she had when Jared had spread those vicious lies about her.
He dressed slower this time than he had the last, almost as if he might be trying to wait for her to wake up. She didn’t. He made noise this time, knocking into her dresser so that perfume bottles fell on his way out. The glass containers clanked together as he picked them up, probably tried to reposition them. She cracked an eye open, then quickly shut it as he turned and looked directly at her.
Drew heard him moving into the living room. Rufus was also awake, barking until Parker shushed him. Then Parker whistled, probably telling Rufus to come on so they could leave. Instead the dog ran and seconds later had his front paws up on the edge of her bed, his tongue lapping happily over her face. She couldn’t remain asleep, or even fake sleep, with all that going on.
“Okay, okay. Good morning to you, too,” she said, unable to stifle the giggle that escaped with the dog’s exuberant actions. “You are one persistent pup, aren’t you?”
She lifted up a little, supporting her weight on her elbows as she looked into the dog’s rich brown eyes. “If you weren’t such a cutie, I’d have to call the pound to come and take you away for trespassing.”
“I’ll pay the fine,” Parker said from the doorway.
He stood there leaning against the doorjamb, arms folded over his chest.
Tired of being on the sidelines, Rufus jumped onto the bed and settled himself on Drew’s side, dropping his head onto her stomach. She patted him, smiling once more. “He’s such an attention hog. Maybe he keeps running away because you’re not giving him enough time,” she told Parker without looking up at him.
“I can’t sit and scratch his ears all day long,” Parker replied.
She nodded. “Right. Especially not when you return to the city and to your job. What will you do with him then?”
“I haven’t thought that far.”
“Why?” she asked, looking up this time because she was sure Parker knew every second of what his future held, or at least what he wanted out of it.
He shrugged. “I guess I’ve been a little preoccupied with the funeral and the B and B and then my accident.”
“Are you thinking of not returning to your job because of your accident? I thought you’d healed perfectly.” I thought you did everything perfectly. The latter echoed in her mind.
“My job’s not my life,” was his tart reply. “Rufus, come!”
Drew startled at the brisk change in his tone. Rufus’s head lifted as the dog looked in Parker’s direction, but he did not move.
“Come, Rufus!” He snapped his fingers, but the dog remained still.
Drew pushed at the covers and gently moved Rufus from his perch. She stood and Rufus jumped to the floor beside her, where he stayed. “I apologize if I overstepped. Your life is certainly your business. I was just asking because I’d like to know how to get in contact with you when the baby’s born. I mean, if you’d like to know.”
He moved fast and so did Rufus. The dog now stood in front of Drew, protectively. Parker was a few inches from her, stopped from coming any closer by Rufus, who couldn’t look menacing even if he tried. Instead he just looked as though he couldn’t decide which one of them he wanted to pick him up and rub his tummy.
“Let’s get this straight once and for all. I will be a part of my baby’s life from the moment it takes its first breath.” He took a deep breath, clenching his teeth and closing his eyes. “I want to be here for you now and when the baby comes, Drew. So stop standing there looking at me like you expect me to be on the first thing smoking out of town.”
“I don’t expect anything where you’re concerned, Parker. I’m smarter than that,” Drew told him just before pushing past him and heading for the bathroom. “You can see yourself out. And pay some attention to your dog so he doesn’t keep showing up at my doorstep.”
She was gone before Parker cursed and Rufus fell back on his butt, looking up at him reproachfully.
* * *
“You trying to kill yourself or chasing demons?” Preston asked Parker the moment he stepped into the basement.
Parker, who had been on his eighty-fifth crunch, spared his brother a weary glance and continued. “I’m working out,” he managed to reply.
“You’re working off steam,” Preston continued, taking a seat on the step. “Rufus giving you some trouble? Maybe you should think about putting him up for adoption.”
“Like you did with Coco?” was Parker’s retort.
Preston smiled. “Coco’s doing just fine with me and Heaven. She loves that crazy little bed with the pink paw prints that Heaven bought her, even though she still thinks she’s supposed to jump up in our bed at night.”
“Yeah. Real cozy,” Parker muttered.
Preston paused, watching as Parker counted off four more crunches. “Maybe you’re thinking about Drew and the baby. I know Heaven can’t stop talking about baby showers and baby names. You’d think she was the one pregnant.”
Parker breathed in through his nose, pulling his knees to his chest once more. “I’m sure you’ll be catching up on that pretty soon,” he said simply when he released his breath and his legs.
“Yeah, we’d like to have kids of our own,” Preston conceded, as if Parker’s sarcastic remarks hadn’t bothered him. “But since you’re the first one of us to experience parenthood, we’re all kind of looking to you to see how this works. So she’s having the baby in February, huh?”
Parker paused, frowned. “I guess.”
Preston nodded. “You gonna stay in Sweetland until then? Sergeant Mertz’s not going to like that.”
“To hell with Mertz.”
Preston stood, then walked over to where Parker was laid out on a mat. He knelt, touching a hand to his brother’s shoulder, holding him down so he couldn’t complete another crunch.
“You wanna stop the BS and tell me what’s really going on with you?”
“I’m trying to work out and you’re breaking my flow, that’s what’s going on,” Parker snapped.
Preston shook his head. “You’re hiding something. You’ve been hiding something for months. Now, what I can’t tell is if this something has more to do with your accident, your job, or Drew Sidney.”
Parker should have known Preston would come at him this way sooner or later. The twins didn’t keep secrets from each other—at least they hadn’t until the Vezina incident. “My knee and my leg are fine. An
d Drew’s pregnant. I haven’t quite figured out what to do with that information. Is that what you want to hear?”
“Okay, well, I know getting her pregnant wasn’t in your plan. But it’s done and you’ve got to stand up to it.”
“Don’t talk to me like you’re my father, Pres. You’re not. And you’ve made mistakes, too.”
Preston looked shocked for all of ten seconds, then his brows drew close, his jaw clenched, and he looked pissed off.
“Yes, I have made mistakes, Parker. But I was taught just like you to stand up to them, to fix every situation that was in my power to fix.”
“I can’t change that she’s pregnant. All I can do is be a father to my child.”
Preston nodded. “That’s all I expect you to do.”
“Bullshit!” Parker spat, pushing out of Preston’s grasp and coming to a stand. “You expect me to pack up and walk away. You expect me to say to hell with this baby and Drew and this small backwards town. That’s what everyone expects Parker Cantrell to do!”
Preston seemed to be absorbing Parker’s words, and for a second Parker thought of apologizing for the explosion. “Maybe the people of this town that don’t know the man you’ve become expect you to do that,” Preston started seriously. “But I know you better. For instance, I know my brother never forgets to use protection when he’s with a woman. Ever.” He paused. “So what happened with Drew?”
Parker ran his hands down his face, taking a deep breath and then exhaling slowly. He’d asked himself this very question over and over again. The answer still eluded him.
“She came into Charlie’s one night when I was there. I pestered her until she let me buy her a drink. We danced and had another drink and then we went for a ride.”
“You were drunk?” Preston asked.
Parker shook his head adamantly. “No. You know I wouldn’t drive if I was drunk, not even in this little old town. Besides, I’m still a cop.” He said the last with a lot less enthusiasm, but he hoped Preston didn’t pick up on it.
“We sat and looked at the stars and the moon, and I guess I just got caught up in the moment. The next thing I knew, we were in her bedroom and then it was morning and I had to get the hell out of there.”
“Before she woke up and realized you’d spent the night with her?” Preston continued.
Parker nodded. “I don’t spend the night with women, Pres, you know that.”
“But you did with Drew.”
“I did with Drew twice,” he admitted. “Last night when I went looking for Rufus, he was at Drew’s house. He keeps running off and ending up there. I don’t know why.”
“Maybe your dog’s got a thing for her, too.”
He cut Preston a weary look. “You’re joking and I’m trying to figure out how and when my life decided to spring out of control. Thanks a lot, bro.”
“Actually, I’m making an observation. You’re usually not the type to get thrown off-kilter so easily, Parker. I think what you should be working on deciding is how these new events will affect your future. It doesn’t matter when the change came, it’s here staring you right in the face. The next step is up to you.”
The next step. Parker sighed. Preston had no idea that the next step could also mean life or death for Parker. If he did, he wouldn’t have been smiling as he clapped his twin on the back and headed up the stairs.
* * *
“I know it’s cliché, but I couldn’t resist,” Carl Farraway said as he stood in front of Boudoir with his arms extended, two dozen yellow roses thrust in Drew’s face.
“Ah, well, not necessarily,” she said with a wavering smile. She didn’t really know how to react to this gesture—this very open and very public gesture.
“I just wanted to apologize for the other night, you know. Things got a little out of control and I wanted to let you know that I was sorry about my part in it all,” Carl continued.
Drew looked up and down the street. There were tourists mulling about, Mr. and Mrs. Brockington had just come out of Godfrey’s with grocery bags in tow, and just her luck, sitting in their favorite front window spot at Jana’s Java were Louisa and Marabelle, their eyes trained on her.
“This really wasn’t necessary, Carl. I was actually speeding, so you were just doing your job,” she told him.
She hadn’t taken the flowers from him, afraid of what message that would send. But Carl wasn’t giving up. He actually stepped forward and lifted her arm so he could set the bouquet within her grasp. Drew held on to them, loving the scent of the flowers but hating the gleam in Carl’s eyes as he watched her holding them.
“That yellow looks like pure gold against your skin,” he said.
“Wow,” Delia replied from her position behind Drew.
Drew had forgotten that she and Delia were on their way over to The Silver Spoon for an early dinner with Savannah and Heaven. All day long, Drew had been looking for things to do to keep her mind off last night with Parker and this morning with Parker. Something had set him off this morning, probably something she’d said, but his rude tone toward her had ticked her off. She wasn’t about to stand there and let him talk to her any way he felt like just because he was angry. So she’d walked out on him this time, hopefully leaving him to wonder how he’d apologize to her when she returned. But when she’d returned, Parker was gone. No surprise there.
And now it seemed that Carl was the one coming with an apology. Not Parker.
“Thank you, Carl. I really appreciate the gesture,” Drew said, then attempted to turn away.
But Carl followed, walking right beside her as she moved down the street.
“So where are you headed? I know you close your shop up around five, that’s why I made sure to come down when you were finished with work. I thought maybe you’d like to get some dinner or something.”
He’d been talking really fast, and Drew had tried to walk even faster. She’d looked over her shoulder for Delia and found her right behind her, a smirk on her face.
“Well, I, ah, I’m going to dinner now,” Drew told him.
“With me,” Delia chimed in. “Just in case you were about to invite yourself, Deputy. She already has dinner plans with me and the girls.”
Delia Kincaid was an ex–movie star who’d come to Sweetland just a little while before Drew. They’d clicked instantly. Not because they were similar in any way, since they were actually as different as night and day. Where Drew was more of an introvert and liked quiet nights at home with a good movie and a TV dinner, Delia, with her short-cut hair, almost to the scalp around the sides and spiked with red-frosted tips on top, was a diehard extrovert who laughed heartily and could cut scathingly if necessary. That’s probably why Delia hadn’t even blinked as she’d quickly cut Carl down.
“Oh, ah, okay…” Carl stumbled over his words, looking back at Delia and then to Drew once more. “Um, maybe some other time. Maybe tomorrow or another night, I guess.”
“Sure. And Carl, next time don’t bring flowers to a florist,” Delia called when Carl had begun to walk back in the direction they’d come from.
“That was bad,” Drew told her.
“Oh please, that was necessary. He hits on everything with boobs in this town. And doesn’t stop with the tourists, either. He’s cocky and his shoes squeak when he walks. At the very least, if you’re gonna try being a playboy, buy good shoes and stop shopping in the bargain bin.”
Delia never pulled any punches, not with anyone. As Drew continued walking, she smiled, wishing she could be a little more like the strikingly gorgeous and seemingly fearless Delia Kincaid. Maybe then she could tell Parker Cantrell where to go and how fast to get there. Instead of falling for this basic thing that was between them every time she saw him, this thing that had created the precious life growing inside of her.
They’d decided to walk to The Silver Spoon. Delia said the exercise would be good for her pregnancy.
“In L.A. pregnant women take Pilates and yoga classes until the day they de
liver. They say it makes the labor pains a lot easier to bear and healing goes faster afterwards,” she told her while chewing on a Twizzlers.
That was another thing about the perfect Delia. She ate as though she were eight or nine months pregnant and was the size of a sex symbol pixie.
“I don’t mind walking. It’s the heat I’m beginning to be averse to. It’s September, you’d think the humidity would take a hike by now,” she complained.
“Heat’s good for you. It keeps the blood pumping and other things pumping, too.” Delia chuckled as they crossed the street onto Duncan Road.
“You’re a sex addict who never has a man at her place or goes on dates,” Drew told her, but she couldn’t resist laughing herself.
“That’s because I know how to do my business and keep it to myself. I learned that living fifteen years in the spotlight.”
“But this is Sweetland, there’s no paparazzi or reporters around here.”
“Are you kidding me? What do you call those nosy old bats Marabelle and Louisa? They may not have the expensive photograph equipment or the byline, but they’re just as cutthroat when it comes to gossip as the pros. You see how they were staring across the street at you and Deputy Fly Guy like they were drinking in every word and gesture? I’ll bet by the time we get to the B and B, Savannah and Heaven will have heard about Carl’s play for you.” Delia looked at her and lowered her black sunglasses on her nose so she could peer at her with her lavender contacts. “And his dismal crash and burn as well.”
Drew laughed, as she always seemed to do when Delia was around. Next to Heaven, Delia was the closest friend she had in Sweetland. But she wasn’t so sure Delia would understand what she was going through with Parker. Delia’s whole take on the one-night stand ending in a pregnancy was, “Single mothers are the new family, kiddo. I’m here for you, whatever you need.”
She hadn’t asked anything else about Parker and didn’t really seem to care. Again, Drew wished she could have that type of live-and-let-live motto for her own life. Emotions were messy and complicated, and she knew better. Dammit, she knew better. Yet the moment she stepped onto the front porch of the inn, she longed to see him, longed to watch that lazy smile of his form or his muscled arms cross over his wide chest. She was doomed.
