by AE Woodward
I scoff. Of course Michael had written letters. Always so responsible, he thought of everything. It had been part of his allure. He was the polar opposite of Parker. He didn’t remind me of the love I had lost. He was him, I was me, and that’s all that mattered. He vowed to take care of me, and he did, even if only for a short while.
“I’ve already read mine, but I’ve been holding onto yours until I thought you were ready. So are you, Katie? Are you ready?”
I consider saying no, but then I remember Stevenson is coming later, and Parker will be back for dinner. It’s the perfect opportunity to read the letters, knowing I’ll have comfort if I need it.
I nod and Mom pats me on the leg before she disappears, only to return with three envelopes in her hand. She sits back down cautiously next to me and again, I feel bad. It always seems like she’s walking on eggshells with me. I just want things to be normal, somehow.
“So, these are yours,” she says, passing them over.
“Three of them?” I ask.
“Mmhmm. You can see yourself who they’re meant for.”
I look down and see his familiar chicken scratch. Each envelope has something different written on it.
“My dear Katie.”
“Zoe.”
The inscription makes my heart ache. He had probably never dreamed that precious Zoe would be taken too soon and that I would be left alone. A tear slides down my cheek before I look at the final envelope.
“The man that holds her heart.”
I gasp.
My mom leans over and throws her arms around me. “I’m so proud of you, baby. You’re so strong. Everyone loves you. We’re here.”
I cry into her chest, while she strokes my hair. My heart is breaking knowing that Michael had known I wasn’t totally his. I had never spoken a word to him about my past with Parker—he had obviously just felt it. “I was so selfish, Mom. He deserved more than a wife like me. Life’s so unfair.” I manage to choke out.
With a touch that only a mother can bestow, she gently places her hands on each of my cheeks and forces me to look at her. “I know, sweet baby, but in life you have to trust that things happen for a reason. There is nothing more heart-wrenching than losing people you love, but you have to have faith.”
“I’m not religious, Mom.”
“Neither am I. But I have faith that there is a reason for all your heartache. Take Parker for example. Having you back has probably saved him.”
“Saved him?” I ask.
“Sweetie, you’ve been gone a long time. Parker was always a bit of a wild child, but you didn’t see how self-destructive he’s been the last few years. Booze. Women. Dangerous stunts. But the minute he heard about you, he started working on cleaning himself up. The day we brought you home, that wasn’t Tommy’s idea, it was Parker’s. He insisted. Heck, he even forced your Dad to give him some jobs around here.”
“Wow,” is all I manage to choke out.
“And then there’s Onyx. We were having to think about selling her because she wouldn’t let the men around her, and I don’t know the first thing about horses. Then you showed up, and she responded. I mean, who knows what else will come from this terrible tragedy, but you always have to have faith.” Mom breaks away from me, standing up to leave.
“Kismet,” I say absently.
“Kiz-what?”
“Kismet. Fate.” I hate to think that fate killed my family, but for some peculiar reason it makes sense. Yes, I need saving, but in the process I’m saving Parker. And the fact of the matter is, that when I think of a world without Parker McKenzie in it, it’s too much to handle.
“Maybe,” she sighs. “Anyway, I’ll leave you to it. I’m in the kitchen if you need me.” I finger the envelopes as Mom leaves the room.
Am I really ready for this?
Probably not.
But I have to know what he had written. I’ll start simple. My letter. I can start there.
What is so important that he wants me to know, even in death?
Dear Katie,
I loved you the moment I laid eyes on you. But even in that moment I knew there was a sadness about you. Something in your past that would probably haunt you forever. I should have turned and run away, I could tell that you were ruled by your ghosts, but there was something deep inside of me that hoped I could bandage your broken heart.
We may have rushed into things by sleeping together that first night, then the pregnancy, you moving in, and getting married, but I wouldn’t change any of it. The only thing I wished that could be different was that I had gotten you first. Because then maybe you would have loved me like you love him.
I know we’ve never talked about your life before we met at that party, and I don’t really know that much about your past, but it doesn’t take a fool to realize that I’ve never had your whole heart. And that’s okay, because I was perfectly content to have just a little bit. I always knew that he had most of it, and I could deal with that. I loved you everyday, and everyday with you was better than the last. I’d take half of your heart over none at all. You’re an amazing person. You gave us Zoe. And you deserve happiness.
It kills me to think of you, with that sad broken look in your eyes, reading this. But find solace in the things that make you happy. Go to him. And when you get him, who ever he is, back, hold onto him forever. I wrote a letter for him too. As much as it kills me to write this, and I hold out hope that you never have to read it, just know that it’s not too late.
Live.
I love you, Katie.
The paper floats to the floor as a strangled sob escapes my mouth. I always thought I’d done a good job of covering everything up. But this letter blows everything out of the water. Michael had known all along, and it killed me to think he’d loved me so much that he was okay with it.
This letter just sealed the deal for me.
I won’t let myself feel guilty anymore. If Michael wants me to be happy, I’m going to be happy.
I put the car in park.
Holy shit, I just drove myself.
Parker comes out of the shop wiping his hands with a rag, a confused look on his face. With shaking hands I open the door and get out. It doesn’t take him long to realize that I’m shaken up.
“Katie? You okay?” he asks, walking towards me.
I take two steps toward him and wrap my arms around his neck. “Yeah,” I whisper. “I’m okay.”
At my words he smiles down at me, and my insides ache. Standing on my tiptoes I press my lips against his and I don’t have to work to get him to really kiss me. Double Mint and cigarettes. The taste of him always brings me back. Back to the simpler times.
My hands pull on his hair as he cups my rear end.
“Please tell me you’re finished for the day?” I groan into his mouth as his hand snakes its way underneath the back of my shirt.
“I have a feeling I’m just getting started.” He pulls away from me and grabs my hand leading me up the stairs to his apartment. I fidget with my clothes. The feel of them on my already smoldering skin is driving me insane. With practiced hands he quickly pops the door open and motions for me to go ahead. Once in his apartment, I freeze, staring down the hallway, when I feel him press into me from behind.
He’s ready.
I’m ready.
I spin in his arms, my lips on his in an instant. He grabs the hem of my shirt and I lift my arms, abandoning every shred of doubt I might have. “Are you sure?” he asks, stopping the shirt just at the edge of my waist.
I nod. No more guilt. I just want to feel again.
Something.
Anything.
Parker.
Without any further words from me, he’s already lifting my shirt off. My hair flicks in my face as my shirt leaves my body.
“I will never get tired of looking at you,” he says, tossing it to the floor and then taking off his own. Everything about his body is familiar, except for the tattoo. I take a moment to study it. I’m confused wh
en I realize it isn’t the one we always talked about. Parker and I had always promised we’d get tattoos together. I knew I wanted the phrase Make It Count somewhere, and he wanted a nice looking clock, complete with roman numerals. Obviously it hadn’t happened back then. When we went to get mine he told me that he’d gone ahead and gotten his, only this tattoo wasn’t exactly what he always planned to get because etched into his side is a gorgeous, broken clock. I run the pads of my fingers over the roman numerals and look up at him. “It’s broken,” I say.
When he doesn’t answer I wonder if I’ve said too much, but then he nods, placing his hand behind my ear, his thumb rubbing my cheek. “My clock stopped working the minute you left. Time stood still.”
Knowing that my leaving hurt Parker just as much as it hurt me breaks my heart. But I can’t focus on the past anymore, so I pull myself back to the present.
Taking my time, I run my hands over his chest. He’s cut and lean, hairless except for a slight trail peeking out from the waistband of his jeans. I reach down and undo his belt and his eyes burn on me just before his hand rubs the length of my arm.
“I know it might not have seemed like it in the past, but I love you, Katie. Everything I’ve ever done has been for you.”
I push his jeans down before I pull him closer. We lose ourselves in our mouths. When I feel him lift me up, his hands on my hips, I respond by wrapping my legs around his waist, never pulling away from him. We continue to kiss one another, our movements frantic, each seemingly needing the other like we need air. As if I weigh nothing more than a feather, he carries me down the hallway, bumping into something a couple of times before he gently places me on his bed.
I giggle. I finally made it to Parker’s bed. We’ve only ever done this in his truck, at the lake, or the creek.
“What’s so funny?” he asks, reaching behind me to unclasp my bra.
“I’ve dreamed of being in your bed ever since I started feeling weird around you.”
“Good,” he says between kissing my breasts, his lips creating a path of heat as he moves, “because you’re never sleeping in another bed. I’m…”
Kiss.
“Never…”
Nibble.
“Letting…”
Tongue flick.
“You…”
Lick
“Go.”
I moan, as he pulls my whole nipple in his mouth and sucks gently. He slides next to me, his mouth never leaving my breast while he rubs his hand across my stomach and unbuttons my jeans. I wiggle myself out of them as he continues with his massage. The air around my breast goes cold as he moves, bringing his mouth up to mine. Our tongues dance as though they’ve missed each other. Hoping he’ll get the hint, I buck my hips up off the bed.
He smiles against my mouth and traces his fingers along my stomach, barely touching my panty line.
“Parker,” I plead.
With no further encouragement necessary, he slides his hand under the thin fabric. I pant, even though he hasn’t even started.
“Please,” I beg.
He growls before sliding a finger into me.
He groans. “God, Katie.”
Adding another finger, he glides in and out, while his thumb teases me in just the right place. Instinct takes over and I find myself moving my hips in time with every thrust of his fingers. The burning increases with every touch. He continues with his fingers as he puts his mouth back to my breast and I bite my lip in an attempt to stifle the moan.
“Parker…”
“Mmmm,” he answers, all the while continuing to work my body.
“I want you.”
Although he lifts his head to look at me, his hand doesn’t miss a beat and I’m about to lose it. I grab his wrist, stopping him. I pant, trying to regain control of myself.
“I want it to be with you.”
The realization hits him and he slides effortlessly between my legs, his hands holding him above my body. I peel my panties off before pushing his boxers down his legs until he’s able to kick them off.
He kisses my forehead.
Then my nose.
Each cheek.
And just as his lips touch my mouth he pushes inside.
He stills, closing his eyes like he’s concentrating, before looking down at me and resting his forehead against mine. “You feel so good, Katie.”
Needing to touch him I run my hands up and down his muscular back and he shivers, goose bumps appearing on his skin. I push myself up and kiss him. He responds and starts moving in and out. It’s slow and steady and the movement is hypnotic. As his rhythm increases, I arch my back off the mattress, the desire too much for me to handle.
“Fuck,” he groans in between thrusts.
I let my knees fall further apart, hoping to somehow get even closer to him. It takes only seconds for my hips to move in sync with his. As he picks up the pace, my heart pounds and the fire between my legs burns hotter. He licks the side of my neck as he pinches my nipple between his fingers and I whimper, the undeniable peak not far off. Tremors run through my body and I place my hands on him, feeling his muscles contracting with every thrust.
“I can’t hold off much longer…”
He moves a little slower, obviously trying to hang on, but I dig my nails into his skin, urging him to pick back up. And he does. My eyes roll in the back of my head as I groan.
“Katie, baby,” he begs.
I don’t need anything else—just my name coming from his lips is my undoing. The shockwaves rip through my core, I clench around him, and his thrusts come quicker as he starts to unravel.
“Christ,” he manages to say breathlessly before I put my mouth back to his. He moans as I suck on his tongue.
By the time he pulls away from me, his breathing heavy and erratic. Finally I feel him surge within me. He stills, putting his mouth back to mine then, completely breathless, he collapses next to me. When I open my eyes to look at him, he has a smile on his face.
“Holy shit,” he sighs.
“Yeah.” I have no other words.
When, after a few moments, he is finally able to move, he props himself up on his elbow so that he’s looking at me. “I could do that all day.”
My orgasm has barely subsided, but I feel the dull ache deep within my stomach and I know that, if every time with Parker feels like this I will never get enough. I’ve gone far too long without him, and I’m not willing to do it again. I turn on my side and put my arm round him. “Good, because I’m hungry for more.”
Parker follows me home for dinner. When we walk in Mom is at the sink, snipping green beans. She shoots us a knowing look over her shoulder, and I can see the smile on her face. It makes me happy to see her happy again. And then I realize she probably is thinking the same thing about me.
“Hey, Mom,” Parker says as he helps himself to some lemonade from the fridge. I grin hearing him call her “Mom.” I forgot that he always used to call her that. Parker had never known his mother—she’d run off on him and his dad when he was still in diapers—so it had just been him and Mr. McKenzie for years. While his dad did the best he could, he wasn’t exactly the most comforting person to grow up with, and because of that Parker pretty much lived with us. Long story short, he considered my parents to be his parents too.
“Are you staying for dinner, Parker?” Mom asks, rinsing the beans.
“If you don’t mind.”
“Of course not.” She hums to herself, continuing to snip. “Katie, you missed your session with Dr. Stevenson.”
Oh shit. I completely forgot.
“He said he’d rearrange his schedule and come back tomorrow morning.”
“Oh, good. Thanks, Mom.”
I kiss her on the cheek before grabbing Parker by the hand and leading him into the living room. I’m desperate to snuggle and watch some more mindless TV. The feeling must be mutual because he doesn’t say a word as he flops onto the corner of the couch and I curl up into his side. His arm casually drapes
over me when I flick my show on. Within minutes my eyes grow heavy but I look up when I hear him say something.
“What?” I ask.
“What are those?”
He’s pointing at the three envelopes I left on the coffee table.
I sit up and snatch them. “Oh, those are letters from Michael. I only read the one though. It’s such a Michael stunt, still talking to me from the grave.”
Parker grabs my hand and kisses it. “I want to know more about him. What was he like? How’d you meet?”
If I had any doubts about Parker, they all melt away when he asks me about the only other man I have loved. I lean my head on his shoulder and sigh. I haven’t talked much about Michael to anyone since his death, but in this moment, it feels right.
“I met Michael the first night I was in Manchester, at a party. He was so handsome I noticed him right away. He was charismatic. I could tell that much just by looking at the crowd of people standing talking to him. They were all laughing, seemingly without a care in the world and I remember thinking to myself that I wanted that.”
“To be happy?” Parker asks sadly, knowing that he had been the one to break my heart.
I nod silently. “He lit up the room. But what drew me to him the most is that he was the exact opposite of you. Sandy-blond hair, green eyes, and clean cut. I knew he would never remind me of you.”
Parker sniffs in response and I look up at him, forcing a smile, trying to let him know that I’m trying.
“I took a chance and talked to him. We ended up hooking up that night…” I swallowed the lump in my throat. This was where things got tough. If I continue, I’ll have to admit my mistakes, and I’m not ready to do that with Parker yet. I’ve just got him back, and I won’t risk losing him again. “And the rest is history.”
“I remember Tommy telling me about you two, and I always couldn’t help thinking you were moving too fast.”
“I did what I had to in order to heal my heart, Parker. It may have been selfish, and I might have thought I’d managed it, but I hadn’t. And Michael always knew.” I passed him my opened letter from Michael.
