by Tiffany Snow
I hesitated, wondering how this was going to go over. “He knows my boss,” I said. “I guess they used to be friends.”
“Who’s your boss?”
“Parker Anderson.”
Amy glanced over at me, her eyebrows raised. “Seriously?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“Talk about a small world.”
Anisha had glanced over, too, from where she was stretched on the deck. “You work for Parker? What’s that like?”
I bristled since it was obvious that neither of them liked Parker. “It’s great, actually,” I said. “He’s a good boss. I love my job.”
My defensiveness must’ve shown because Sammy jumped in to defuse the sudden tension.
“That’s great,” she said. “Not everyone likes their boss and their job, right, Amy?”
Amy’s smile was forced. “Right.”
But Anisha wasn’t as easily placated. “You know the history between Parker and Dean, don’t you? What that asshole Parker did to him?”
“I know that it was in the past and it’s none of my business,” I said, getting to my feet. “If you’ll excuse me.”
Grabbing another crappy beer from the cooler, I popped the top and went in search of Ryker. He was in the middle of a conversation about a ’68 Mustang he was thinking of buying and restoring, so I just settled in next to him. Glancing down at me, he smiled and draped an arm over my shoulders.
I listened to them talk for a while, deciding about two-thirds of the way through my beer that hey, it wasn’t so bad after all. When I finished that one, I went and opened another.
Amy stepped up behind me as I was taking a swig. “Hey,” she said with a smile. “I just wanted to apologize. Anisha was out of line. We’re just all very … protective of Dean. That’s all.”
“I like him, too,” I said. “Or else I wouldn’t be here.”
“We were just surprised. We haven’t heard Parker’s name in a really long time.”
“So what happened?” I asked. “Why do you all hate him so much?”
“You really don’t know?” she asked, scrutinizing me.
I shrugged. “I’ve heard bits and pieces from both of them, and of course their sides of the story are vastly different. It’d be nice to hear from an outside party what happened.”
The wind had torn her hair from its braid and she took it down, tying it back in a ponytail as she talked.
“Well, it all started when they came back from deployment,” she said. “Troy and I were high school sweethearts and have been friends with Dean since forever. He and Troy lived by each other in that shitty trailer park. Parker was never really one of us, never really fit in, but Dean liked him, so we accepted him.
“Parker and Dean were inseparable,” she continued. “I don’t know what had happened to bring them together—neither of them would ever say—but they had each other’s backs all through high school and into the service. I didn’t think anything could ever come between them. Until they met Natalie.”
Natalie. The woman they’d both fallen in love with, the woman who’d committed suicide because of it.
“Tell me about her,” I said.
Amy shrugged, her face blank. “She was a little thing. Pretty. Delicate, kind of, I guess. Men like that sort of thing, or at least Dean and Parker did.”
“That’s all?” I asked when she stopped talking.
“It’s unkind to speak ill of the dead.”
That was unexpected. I’d assumed, given how Ryker and Parker had referred to Natalie, that she’d been sweet and nice. Maybe I’d assumed wrong. “You didn’t like her?” I prodded.
Amy hesitated, turning her gaze out to stare at the water. “I think … Natalie was someone who was hard to know. And I think infatuation can make people overlook things that should be obvious. And both Parker and Dean were very infatuated with Natalie.
“Dean loved her, but she’d slept with Parker. It was hard for him to reconcile her betrayal with his love for her.” She shrugged. “That’s probably why he took it out on Parker. He couldn’t bear to lose Natalie, so all his anger was directed at his supposed best friend.” Her voice was bitter. “Then Natalie killed herself, and he’s blamed himself ever since.”
She took a deep breath and faced me again. “But like you said, it’s all in the past.”
“And yet, none of you have forgiven Parker,” I persisted.
“He broke Dean’s trust,” she said. “That’s not something easily forgiven.”
Our eyes met in mutual understanding and I gave her a nod. Regardless of how I felt about the situation, Ryker and his friends believed Parker had betrayed him.
“So you didn’t really say how you met,” she said. “How long have you guys been dating?”
“A little over four months,” I replied. “Ryker was working on a case that involved Parker. We met and he asked me out. Well, he didn’t really ask,” I amended. “More like told me I was going to dinner with him.”
Amy laughed. “That sounds like Dean. He’s never had a confidence problem when it comes to women. But I think it’s awesome that you’ve been together this long. I think it’s the longest actual relationship he’s had in years.”
That surprised me. “Really?”
She nodded. “It took a while for him to learn to trust again. I’m glad he brought you today, though. He hasn’t brought anyone around for our approval in years.”
“Well, I don’t think Anisha’s going to approve,” I said ruefully.
“She’ll come around,” Amy said. “Especially if Dean is happy.”
“You’re talking about me, Amy?”
Ryker appeared over my shoulder, his hand sliding onto my hip. “Don’t believe a word she says,” he said to me. “It’s all lies.”
“I was just getting ready to tell her about the time you arrested that lady and it turned out to be a man,” Amy teased.
Ryker groaned. “That’s one strip search I’ll never forget.”
Amy and I laughed. After that, it was a little easier. Anisha didn’t say much to me, but that was okay. Sammy was nice and the guys made everyone laugh with their constant ribbing of each other. All in all, it was a relaxing afternoon and by the time we’d eaten and gotten back to the pier, I’d consumed enough beer to be more than a little tipsy. I’d also deepened my tan and the bikini looked amazing. It was skimpier than anything I’d worn before, but I’d seen it on the hanger and had only thought of how Ryker would react when he saw it. Considering how he’d been using any excuse to touch me all afternoon, I thought it was a pretty good bet that he liked it very much.
Tyrone and Troy were docking the boat while Ryker and I stood at the bow, watching as the sun was beginning to set. His chest was hot against my back and his arms wrapped around my waist. I rested my head back against his shoulder and he leaned down to press his lips to the dip between my neck and shoulder.
Another boat was docked next to ours and I glanced over to the deck. A man stood opposite us, maybe thirty or forty feet away. He had on an unbuttoned white shirt that blew in the wind and his dark hair ruffled with the breeze. He was striking, a charisma about him drawing my eye as Ryker pressed kisses to my bare shoulder. Then he turned, and though he wore sunglasses I knew he was looking at me, and I realized why he looked so familiar.
It was Parker.
His chest was deliciously bare and showing the six-pack of muscles usually hidden underneath his suits. The loose-fitting linen pants he wore hit low on his lean hips. He was holding a glass of white wine, and once he saw me, he froze. I wondered if he knew who I was. Probably not, not at this distance with my hair tousled by the wind and wearing sunglasses. No doubt the bikini had caught his eye—he was a man, after all.
But then he dipped his head, just a little, just enough that it couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than an acknowledgment. He took a drink of the wine, still looking my way.
“What the hell is he doing here?” Ryker’s growl forced my gaze
away from Parker.
“Out on his boat,” I said. “Just like us.” I’d forgotten about the bill, deducted from Parker’s account every month, for docking his boat here. I’d never seen his boat before, though I’d known he had one.
“I don’t like how he’s looking at you.” Ryker’s arms pulled me farther back into him.
“He’s looking at us,” I said mildly. “And may I remind you that I’m his assistant. He looks at me every day.”
“Not wearing that bikini, he doesn’t.”
I was distracted from the argument by someone else on Parker’s boat. A woman. She’d just come up the steps from the cabin below
She was tall and lean—Victoria’s Secret model–type lean—with long, dark hair, and sporting oversize designer sunglasses. Wearing a black bikini that made mine look like a modest vintage piece, she strutted up to Parker, blocking my view of him. She slid her hands around his waist and tipped her head up. The three-inch heels she wore put her only slightly shorter than he was. I saw his lips tilt in a half-smile, then he kissed her.
Well.
Good for him. Really.
There was an ache in my gut that hadn’t been there before, but I ignored it. I still had half a beer left and I chugged it, daintily covering my mouth when the very non-dainty burp erupted.
“Oops. Sorry.”
But Ryker just laughed and scooped me up in his arms. I squealed as the deck tilted underneath me, clutching at his shoulders.
“You shouldn’t do that to someone who’s drank as much as I have today,” I said. “You’re liable to get puked on.”
“I’ll take my chances,” he said with a grin. “I’m ready to get home and get you out of that bikini that’s been driving me insane all day.”
I glanced over his shoulder to where Parker still stood with the woman. He was playing with her hair now and talking, and didn’t look our way. My smile faded.
“Yeah, me too.”
Later that night, we sat in my living room eating pizza, and I decided to bring up what had happened today.
“I don’t think your friends like me all that much,” I said, taking a drink of water. I needed to hydrate.
Ryker frowned at me as he reached for another slice. “Why do you say that?”
“Because I work for Parker and don’t think he’s the devil.”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course they like you.”
“How did you and Parker meet?” I asked, deciding to drop that particular topic. “No one seems to know.”
“Why do you want to know?” he asked.
“Why don’t you want to tell me?” I countered.
Ryker took a bite of pizza and chewed slowly. I remained quiet, hoping he’d open up to me. He swallowed and took a drink of his Coke.
“I’ve told you before that I had a single mom growing up,” he said at last. I nodded. “We lived in a shitty trailer park in a bad part of town. Most days I was lucky if I didn’t get into some kind of scrape on my way home from school. Gangs ran that part of town and they were always recruiting.
“My mom was dead set on me getting a decent education, so she paid tuition for a nicer school than the one in my district. Took nearly every spare dime she had, but she refused to let it go. I thought it would be a shitty way to repay her, by joining a gang. So I always said no, which sounds easy, but wasn’t. They had all kinds of ways of pressuring you, from stalking you for a chance to rough you up, to threatening your family.”
He took a deep breath and I remained quiet, listening. This was more than Ryker had ever told me before about his past.
“Anyway, there was this kid at school,” he said. “A quiet kid, kind of a loner. Rich as fuck, of course. Most of them were. He used to watch me. Tried talking to me a couple of times, but I pretty much told him to fuck off. Figured he was just weird.
“One day I was waiting at the bus stop for my ride home. I had to take two different buses so I usually didn’t get home until about six at night or later. It was early in the winter so it got dark early. I was waiting, and that was the night I got jumped. Three guys in high school, older than me. I wouldn’t join their gang so they’d been told to fuck me over. And they would’ve, too, if Parker hadn’t been there.”
“Parker was there?” I asked in surprise.
“Yeah. He was the guy who wouldn’t leave me alone. No clue why. Maybe he felt sorry for the charity case, maybe he just thought I could use a friend. The other kids treated me like a pariah in their midst. Not him. He was determined we were going to be friends. He’d followed me that day. He was curious, I think. His parents were way into sheltering him from society’s degenerates. Like me, I suppose. Anyway, he flew right at those guys. Didn’t even hesitate. Next thing I knew, two of them were on the ground and one was running away.”
“What about you? Were you hurt?”
“They’d gotten me with a knife. Might’ve bled to death if Parker hadn’t been there and gotten help. He saved my life that night.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell anyone?” I asked.
“Because Parker didn’t want me to,” he said with a shrug. “He knew it would only bring trouble for both of us. The gang would try again for me and might even target him, too, for revenge. As it was, no one really knew what went down that night. Safer for both of us at that age.”
“How old were you?”
“Fourteen.”
“Wow,” I breathed. “That’s … really young to be dealing with that kind of stuff.”
“Tell me about it. Anyway, that pretty much sealed our friendship. I knew his parents could never stand me or understand why Parker would befriend someone from the South Side, but Parker was never like that. He would’ve died for me and me for him. Had each other’s backs all through our deployment. I saved his life a couple times, and he returned the favor. I didn’t think anything would ever—could ever—come between us.”
He had a faraway look in his eyes now and his face looked older. Sadder. Impulsively, I reached for him, cupping his jaw in my hand. His day-old whiskers were rough against my skin.
“It doesn’t have to be this way,” I said. “You can be friends again.”
But Ryker’s smile was bitter as he took my hand, moving it from his face to rest on his thigh. “No. What he did was unforgivable. Sometimes, you can’t go back. This is one of those times.”
Natalie.
I didn’t know why, but I felt as though I needed to do all I could to patch up Ryker and Parker’s relationship. They were the two most important men in my life, and they meant something to each other. But in order to do that, I needed to know everything that had happened all those years ago. I needed to know Natalie, and I wasn’t sure how to go about finding out.
CHAPTER TWO
It was the usual morning routine for me: running late because I’d decided to change the polish on my toes—Kiss Me on My Tulips didn’t suit my mood, so instead I swapped it for I Don’t Give a Rotterdam—and I nearly missed the bus. Luckily the driver liked me and knew my schedule, so he always gave me an extra thirty seconds or so to get my butt there.
“Thanks, Bob,” I huffed with a smile, trying to catch my breath as I scrambled up the stairs and into a seat.
“Looks like you got some sun,” he remarked, glancing in the overhead mirror at me.
“Yep. May be one of the last nice weekends we have,” I said. “What did you do this weekend?”
We chatted on the way to my stop while I finished my makeup. Bob had been driving the same bus route for nearly five years and he always had a story or two come Monday morning. I’d given him homemade fudge last year for Christmas and he’d loved it so much, I’d made a mental note to give him a double batch this year.
My cell buzzed on my way into the Starbucks a couple of doors down from the office building. Pulling the phone out of my purse, I groaned when I saw the caller ID.
“Hi, Mom,” I said, glancing at my watch.
“Good morning, sw
eetheart! You didn’t call me back yesterday.”
I held back a sigh. She’d left a voice mail Sunday evening, but I’d gone out to dinner with my friend Lilly, who lived in the apartment directly below me, conveniently not returning home until late.
“Sorry, Mom. I meant to call today.” I winced at the white lie. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy talking to my mom, she just … asked a lot of questions.
“How’s Dean?” She always asked this, ever since I’d broken the news to her a couple of months ago that I had a boyfriend. Usually, I didn’t bother telling my parents until after the relationship lasted beyond the standard eight-week trial period.
“He’s fine. We’re fine. Everything’s fine,” I replied, heading off what I knew the next two questions would be.
“Wonderful! That’s perfect because your father and I are going to be in the city tomorrow and want to take you and Dean to dinner.”
I stopped in my tracks, then nearly got knocked to the ground by the flow of pedestrians behind me. I scurried on, weaving my way to the Starbucks door.
“What? Um, dinner? Well, I don’t know if Ryker can make it. He has to work a lot—”
“I’m not taking no for an answer, young lady, and neither is your father. You’ve been seeing this man for several months and your father wants to know what kind of man is dating our daughter. If he’s worth his salt, he’ll want to meet us, too.”
I winced. My mother was a cupcake, but my father was an entirely different matter. He hadn’t built up an entire distribution company by being stupid. Smart and confident, he intimidated most people. Good thing Ryker wasn’t like most people.
“Okay,” I gave in. “I’ll check and see if he’s available.”
“Good,” she said, pleased satisfaction in her voice. “We’ll pick you up at seven.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“You’re welcome. Love you, darling.”
“Love you, too.”
I absently ordered the usual grande coffee for Parker, ordering the grande pumpkin spice latte (extra whip) for me, as well as choosing an egg white panini with spinach and ham for his breakfast.
