by Tara Sivec
Garrett still wasn’t back to the villa by the time Parker got out of the shower. She wasn’t going to worry about him or go looking for him. She had said her piece and he was a big boy. He could forgive her and they could move on, or he could continue to ignore her and be pissed. The choice was up to him.
She dressed for bed in a pink Victoria’s Secret tank top and matching draw-string pajama bottoms and crawled into the king-sized haven, scooting as far over to one side as she could without falling on the floor. Parker wondered if Garrett would climb in with her when he got to the room or if he'd sleep on the floor. She wondered if he would even come back to the room at all. She turned off the lamp on the nightstand and shut her eyes, trying to shut down her mind and not think about that day in college, but it was useless.
Annabelle had wished she could blame her father for everything. It would be so easy to just give in to the hurt and the anger and finally admit that if it wasn’t for his bad choices, she wouldn’t have needed to clean up his mess. In a sense it was true, but Annabelle wasn’t the type of person to do that. No matter the circumstances, he was still her family.
Annabelle had found out that Anthony Capuano was the head of the New Jersey criminal syndicate. In layman’s terms, he was in the mob. He ran everything and everyone on the entire East Coast. A few months into Annabelle’s mother’s illness, Joe Parker realized the medical bills were piling up. Through a few back door connections at work, he was put in touch with a man who could give him an immediate loan, no questions asked, no references needed, no copies of ten years’ worth of pay stubs and tax returns required. Joe was able to pay Anthony back with interest in the time allotted, and that should have been the end of it. But then there were more bills, along with funeral costs, and it snowballed from there. After Annabelle left for college, Joe borrowed well beyond his means and started gambling to pay back those debts, only to incur more on top of it. Week after week he was punished for not coming up with the money, and week after week he continued to fall further into the hole. By the time Annabelle was contacted, her father was in so deep with the mob there was no way out.
A call to Annabelle’s cell phone three days later by an “unavailable number” provided her with the name of a restaurant, a date, and time before disconnecting without another word. Annabelle almost skipped the appointment, but curiosity got the better of her. The man that had spoken to her on campus a few days earlier was the one to show up and sit down across from her. She would later find out that his name was Agent Brad Richmond, with the CIA, and they had been keeping her under surveillance for three years due to her father’s dealings with Anthony Capuano. When they realized how intelligent she was, that as a cop’s daughter she had a wealth of knowledge about law enforcement, and that before her mother got sick she was a member of the junior rifle league, and by the time she was thirteen could handle a weapon better than adult men three times her age, they knew they wanted her as one of their own. It was an added bonus that she was a self-imposed loner thanks to her father and that she was desperate to finish college.
Annabelle had been given all of the money she needed to finish school, her father’s debts were completely paid off, and the contract currently out on his head was forgotten. All she had to do was keep up her end of the deal: tell no one or her life or theirs would be at risk.
Garrett flopped back down on the gym mat after Parker had left and remained there for at least an hour, staring up at the ceiling. He wanted to feel bad that his and Parker’s first conversation hadn’t gone exactly as planned, but he could still feel her body pinning his to the ground and every other thought disappeared into the recesses of his mind. His hands ground into the mat next to him as he thought about how easily it would have been to grasp her hips and slide her down his stomach and over the hardness between his legs that he was surprised she hadn't felt.
Garrett's chest grew tight when he remembered the look in her eyes when he told her everything about her was a lie. He should have never said that to her. Regardless of the fact that she could kick his ass, and probably knew who killed JFK, she was still his Parker. And when Garrett had these thoughts, he didn't need to remind himself that by his Parker, he meant his friend Parker.
His best friend Milo's fiancée, Parker. She told him she needed her friend, and that was just what he'd give her.
When Garrett got back to the villa, he was surprised to find a sock wedged in the door. He figured Parker was just pissed off enough to throw all of his stuff on the front walk and make him sleep on the wooden chair by the door.
He crept into the dark room and saw Parker's sleeping form on the far side of the bed in the middle of the room. It didn't escape his notice that she had left plenty of room for him to sleep there as well, which hopefully meant she wasn't too mad anymore.
Garrett stood there at the edge of the bed, his brain at war with his libido. The logical part of his head told him it wouldn't be a good idea to sleep in the same bed with her. But the little head down below, that made most of his decisions, didn't see what the big deal was. Garrett and Parker had shared a bed numerous times.
"Why are you in my bed?"
Garrett had squinted at Parker out of one eye, watching her yawn and stretch her arms above her head.
"Milo left in the middle of the night for a mission. I thought I heard a noise and got scared. And you have better pillows," she explained as she rolled to face him and burrowed her face into said pillows.
Garrett had stared at the pillows beneath her and knew it would take exactly four days until her smell was gone from them.
"You talked in your sleep last night. And you have a serious boundary issue with your legs," she had complained.
"I'm pretty sure I know how to fix that, Parker. Stop sleeping in my bed."
Remembering that time Parker had shown up in his bed unannounced made Garrett smile. But then he remembered that Parker was CIA and the smile fell from his face as he wondered if she had really been scared by a noise that night or all the other times she "thought she heard something" and crawled into his bed when Milo was away. Garrett figured Parker knew at least twenty-seven different ways to kill anything that went bump in the night.
Garrett never felt an ounce of guilt that his best friend's girl crawled into bed with him almost every time he was away for work. Nothing ever happened aside from sleep; Garrett would have never crossed that line no matter what. And Milo knew all about Parker's sleep habits and regularly teased her for being such a girl. Milo had always trusted Garrett explicitly while he was alive. He’d trusted him with his friendship, with his life, and with the woman he loved.
Garrett wished he had been worthy of that trust back then. All of the thoughts he’d harbored about Parker over the years made him feel undeserving of it.
Garrett took one last look at Parker’s body under the covers and made a quick decision to just do what he'd normally do. There was no reason why this time should be different than any others. He pulled off his shirt and tossed it onto a chair in the corner then untied the string on his running pants and let them drop to the floor.
Wearing just his boxer briefs, he eased back the covers and crawled into bed as gently as he could so he wouldn't wake Parker. Garrett lay there on his back, still as a statue, listening to Parker's deep, even breathing. He turned his head toward her on the pillow, and the nightlight from the bathroom offered just enough of a glow that he could see her face.
She was sleeping in her favorite position: on her stomach with her arms wrapped around her pillows.
Garrett needed to get some sleep. They had a team meeting first thing in the morning. For some reason he had a feeling it wouldn't be as easy as it used to be to sleep next to his friend tonight.
Garrett only hoped he was able to keep his boundary problem under control.
Chapter Eight
Parker’s eyes fluttered open and she quickly closed them when the bright Dominican sun assaulted her through the patio doors. She wondered if she for
got to turn on the air conditioning the night before. Parker knew it was hot in the Dominican, but this was ridiculous. She was burning up. And she felt like she was pinned to the bed.
When her subconscious finally woke up, she realized there was an arm draped over her waist and a hard body pressed into her back. It only took a few seconds for her to realize that Garrett must have come back to the room after she fell asleep. Parker held perfectly still, not wanting to wake the man that had his nose pressed into the back of her neck and an erection nestled against her ass. Out of all the times they had sleepovers through the years, they never woke up this way. In the past, Garrett’s leg had slid between hers and she’d push him back to his side of the bed. His hand would flop over and smack her on the arm and she’d jerk awake to throw it off of her. In the morning, they always woke up on their respective sides of the bed. This was uncharted territory and Parker didn’t know what to do. She knew what her body wanted to do: rub up against the hardness currently pushing into her and slide the hand warming her stomach inside her pajama bottoms to see if Garrett’s fingers felt as good as they looked. Parker assumed Garrett wouldn’t react very well to something like that, so she closed her eyes, slowed down her breathing, and wished for a few more hours of just being close to him.
Garrett was oblivious to Parker’s daydream about his fingers and the morning swell of his member because he was lost in his own thoughts. The smell of coconut awakened his senses before he realized where he was. All Garrett knew was that there was something soft that smelled like heaven in his arms. He fluttered in between dreaming and waking, and he wasn’t quite sure which category he fell into. He didn’t care as long as he could stay where he was.
Feelings of arousal tingled through his groin, and he felt his cock harden and push into something supple. Garrett liked the way it felt so much he shifted his hips in an effort to feel more of it rubbing against him. He realized his hand was resting against something flat and warm and pushed it up so he could feel even more of it against his palm. His hand lightly skimmed the silky smoothness, letting his fingertips glide over every inch along the way, until they were met with something full and round that fit perfectly in the palm of his hand. He halted his movement. Garrett didn’t know if it was the low muttered female moan that forced him fully awake, or the realization that he was holding a breast in his hand, but his eyes popped open and his brain flew into overdrive when he comprehended the fact that it was Parker’s breast in his hand and Parker’s body that he was currently snuggled up against.
Do I keep pretending I’m asleep or make a huge joke out of the situation, Garrett thought to himself. And why can’t I move my hand away from her breast, his brain practically screamed.
Parker knew the moment Garrett became conscious of what he was doing probably before he did. An agent was trained to pay attention to certain tells, like a subtle increase in breathing patterns and a heartbeat that went from a sleeping rate of fifty-two beats a minute to Garrett’s current ninety-seven beats a minute. Garrett’s rate was unusually high for someone just waking up, which told Parker he was finally aware he was currently palming her bare breast.
“You’ve obviously decided on a whole new meaning for the word ‘boundaries’ haven’t you?” Parker said, attempting to inject some humor into the situation. She knew better than anyone that Garrett-straight-laced-does-everything-by-the-book-Parker-is-my-friend-McCarthy would be absolutely mortified that he woke up that way.
Garrett jerked his hand out from under Parker’s tank top and tried not to whimper at the loss of her beneath his palm. He quickly scrambled away from her and off the bed while she casually rolled over to face him, propping her head in her hand and her elbow on her pillow.
Parker watched as Garrett bent down to the floor and grabbed the pants he had discarded last night, pulling them up his legs and over the erection that strained against his boxer briefs. Parker watched the sight before her disappear behind the black nylon pants as Garrett pulled his thumbs out of the elastic, letting it snap into place. The pants hung low enough on him that Parker could see the muscled indents by his hip bones and a bit of his happy trail peeking out of the top. Parker wondered why she never took more time to stare at his body before when a flash of something caught her eye. She blinked and looked down to see Milo’s engagement ring resting on top of her tank top, right between her breasts.
While Garrett got dressed without saying a word, Parker was hit with a wave of guilt and wondered if the reflection of the sun against the ring was some sort of sign she was betraying Milo’s memory with all of these thoughts of Garrett.
Parker reached up and fingered the ring, sliding it back and forth along its thin, silver chain, the zipping sound of metal against metal filling the quiet room.
“We’re supposed to be downstairs in thirty minutes to meet everyone for breakfast,” Garrett finally spoke. His back was to Parker as he rummaged through his suitcase for a change of clothes.
Parker sat up in bed and pushed the covers off of her.
“I’m going to take a quick shower,” Garrett said without looking at her as he piled a tee shirt, jeans, and clean underwear into his arms and moved towards the bathroom. “I’ll just meet you down there.”
The door slammed shut behind him, signifying that there would be no discussion about the morning’s wake up call.
<> ~ <>
Thirty minutes later they were all seated at a table for a continental breakfast with a view of the Atlantic at the Playa Restaurant located just off the resort’s lobby.
Parker had thrown on a pair of dark green cargo pants and a fitted white tee shirt, pulled her hair into a high ponytail, and left the room right after Garrett’s departure to the bathroom, making her way downstairs to wait in the lobby for everyone.
She sat in one of the black wicker love-seats with red cushions that reminded her of the color of Garrett’s underwear from that morning and people-watched. For the most part, this resort looked like a honeymoon destination. Everywhere Parker glanced she saw couples. Men and women holding hands, kissing, and their arms wrapped around one another, completely oblivious to what was going on around them. They only cared about each other. She tried to remember back to a time when she and Milo were like that, but she couldn’t. The sad truth was they had never been in love like that. They held hands occasionally. He offered her his elbow when she was exiting a vehicle or they were walking into an event, and he hung his arm around her shoulder in a friendly gesture—but none of it screamed love, passion, and adoration.
Parker always blamed herself for the lack of…everything in their relationship. She kept the most important parts of herself closed off from him. A few times she tried to apologize for not being able to give him more, but he would always cut her off and tell her it didn’t matter. He loved her and he would take any part she was willing to give. Milo knew about her father. She was able to give him that much at least. She had to share something with him so he could at least try to understand where she was coming from. Milo was her best friend. She always thought that would be enough. It was the basis for every successful relationship.
But as she sat there and felt the warm ocean breeze against her skin, listening to the rustle of palm trees and the cries of exotic birds in the distance, she looked across the expanse of the lobby and watched Garrett walk the length of the marble floor, feeling her heart speed up in her chest. Garrett was also her best friend, but Garrett gave her butterflies, made her second-guess every single decision she’d made for the past eight years, and made her want to stay locked away in a room with him, away from the world and other people and anything that could come between them. He made her want to greet every single morning exactly like she did that morning. He made her want things she had no business wanting or even deserved.
After everyone finished their breakfast, where they lightly conversed about safe topics like sports, vacations, and movies, Garrett got down to business.
“Marshall, where are we on making
contact with President Fernandez?”
While Austin and Cole were there mostly for muscle, Brady’s main focus for the mission was intel and communication. He was quick with a computer and skilled with a gun, but he absolutely excelled in sweet talk and cons.
“I sent an email to the lovely Mrs. Pilar Espinal, Fernandez’s secretary and guard dog for the past ten years, as soon as I got to my room last night. According to her reply this morning, she received our request last week inquiring about an interview with the President and now that we are in the country, he is more than willing to sit down with us,” Brady explained as he wiped the corner of his mouth with a cloth napkin and tossed it on the table. “I was able to get Mr. and Mrs. Garrett Miller an invite to a black tie dinner being held tomorrow evening at the presidential palace.”
Everyone looked between Garrett and Parker with smirks on their faces. Garrett and Parker refused to acknowledge them or each other. Garrett was hoping Parker would never, ever speak or think of the morning’s events again. He was appalled at his behavior even if it did happen while he was half asleep. But his hand had continued to linger after he woke up, and he had no excuse for that.
Even so, Garrett wanted her bare breasts in his palms and his hardness between her legs so badly it hurt to breathe. He needed to get away from her for a while and clear his head.
“Sounds good. Text me the information,” Garrett told Brady as he threw his own napkin down on the table and stood up. “I made arrangements for two rental SUVs. I’m going to take one and scope out the palace. Marshall, start digging into Fernandez’s financial records. I want bank account information, local and offshore investments, charity, real estate holdings, and anything else you can find on him.”
Parker listened to Garrett rattle off instructions to Brady as he backed away from the table. She stood up and followed him.
