“You ever want to talk...about anything. I’m here. Don’t forget that,” I tell her and she looks at me. Her eyes wide, biting her lip as if she is thinking about it, she nods and I smile at her.
“Come on let’s go help them in the kitchen, knowing those bitches they’re already half drunk.”
****
We had stuffed our faces with taquitos, chips and guacamole. Unable to move, we’re now laying on my couch watching Safe Haven, when I hear a knock at my door. I stand up, immediately regretting the third margarita. Especially since Tess had made them and she is always a little heavy handed with the tequila.
Opening the door, I don't mind the goofy grin that immediately falls over my face.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” His deep voice repeats, a smile on his face that makes him look so damn good a huge neon sign with arrows should pop up over his head and it should blink, ‘TROUBLE’. Of course I don't tell him that.
“We’re watching a movie.” I say. Still standing at my doorway, unable to move, making a complete dork out of myself smiling brightly at him.
“Oh...I like movies.” Parker says grinning and I laugh.
“You want to meet them?” I whisper, probably too loudly, but even then I can only feel my heart beating hard at the fact that the most beautiful man I had ever laid eyes on is standing on my doorstep.
“Yeah, I would love to.” Smiling I wave him in opening the door, but before walking inside, he grabs me close and kisses my mouth sweetly.
“Sorry, but I couldn’t fucking resist. I missed your taste,” he whispers against my lips and a shiver goes from the back of my neck all the way down to my toes.
“You kissed me like, only ...four hours ago.”
“I still fucking missed you,” he retorts and I laugh. He pulls me to his side, as he closes and locks my front door.
“Hey guys,” I say as I walk into the living room, where the girls are all laying on the couch watching Josh Duhamel shirtless on the beaches of North Carolina.
“Why did you let me eat those last five…,” Tess starts to say but the moment her eyes land on Parker next to me she freezes, with her mouth wide open. I take in how Carrie sits up, and almost want to laugh at the almost identical expressions on Carrie and Tess’s faces. Lucy thankfully stands up and walks, even if slightly wobbly, towards us.
“Hello, Mr. Stone.” She says politely.
“Lucy Mack. Please call me Parker.” He says smiling as she leans in and hugs him.
“Parker, this is my business partner, Theresa Galan, Tess this is Parker Stone.” With her almond shaped green eyes wider than I have ever seen them, she stands up and he walks over to her.
“Hello.” Tess says. Parker leans in to hug her as well and her face is on me over his shoulder mouthing, “Oh. My. God!” I bite my lip to try not to laugh.
When he steps back, I clear my throat trying not to laugh at their reaction to him. Who could blame them? He was THAT hot!
“Carrie Blue, Parker Stone. Parker, this is my friend Carrie.”
“Nice to meet you.” She hugs him and steps back.
“Is Blue really your last name,” he asks her, it is something that everyone always asks her.
“Yeah...My parents are hippies.” she says and we all laugh.
“Want to sit and watch?” Tess asks, and I notice the five of us standing awkwardly.
“Sounds good,” Parker says. He watches them all sit back down and start the movie up again. His large body is sitting close to mine, his arm around my shoulder making my head fall over his chest, and I have never felt better than I did at that moment. A second later it got better when his hand moved into my hair, his fingers gently playing with the ends of my hair, all as my girls pretended to watch the movie instead of watching Parker with me. I missed this because I actually did watch the movie. I watched it with a smile on my face as I sat surrounded by my girls and a really hot guy who made me feel things that should terrify me, but for some reason didn’t.
*****
“Thank you!” Carrie shouts and waves goodbye as she gets into Parker's car, his driver looking amused.
“Bye! Thank you, Parker.”
“See you Wednesday?” Tess says to me and I nod. Tuesday was one of my normal days off.
“Yup, bright and early,” I tell her and she smiles and waves to Parker behind me.
“Take care of our girl. If you hurt her, we’ll destroy you.” She says smiling, but I know she’s being serious, and Parker comes closer to me, wrapping his front to my back.
“You have my word.” Tess looks at him, and something flickers in her eyes as Parker spoke and she nodded.
“Okay then. Thanks again for the driver! Come on Jeeves!” Tess says as Parker’s driver, Miles, helps her in.
We stand and watch as his town car drives away from my apartment building, my body leaning into his.
“So you survived.” I say looking up into his eyes that are looking into mine.
“I like them. They remind me of my sisters.”
“Good.”
“So are you coming back to my place?” He asks, his fingers playing with the tips of my hair, as if he needed to be touching me and I like it a lot.
“Well you did call your car service to play designated driver for my girlfriends, watched a Nicholas Spark movie with my drunk girls and me….so I guess I have no choice but to let you whisk me away to your house.” I say smiling as we walk back to my apartment.
“Let me pack a bag, and we can go. That okay?” I ask and he smiles.
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
“Okay.” I could have suggested that we stay at my place but I wasn’t ready for that.
The last man I’d let sleep with me in my bed hurt me.
Parker was putting cracks in my walls, but I wasn’t ready to let him all the way in just yet.
Chapter Eight
Parker
I watch her walk to her room. A room she hadn’t suggested we stay at, but I was okay with it. Watching her sweet ass sway back and forth my body starts to react, the front of my pants begin to tighten uncomfortably. She’s so damn beautiful. I look around the living room of the small but cozy apartment.
The walls are a Sage Green. There is a comfortable oversized sectional in the living room as well as two creamy white bookshelves. One is filled with books, and the other with DVD’s. Displayed on the walls she has some great pieces of art. Some that look familiar, I just can’t seem to put my finger where I’d seen them before. One in particular catches my eye, two hands, a male and a female, almost touching but just out of reach. Something about it makes me feel a little sad.
"What do you think?" she asks, standing behind me. I look at her, and even though I had been around her all day, I couldn’t seem to get enough of her. Pulling her close, leaning my face into her neck, loving the sweet way she smells. Breathing her scent in deep I kiss her neck. I straighten up, taking in how her hair is now thrown up on top of her head in a messy bun, her big eyes looking at me in wonder. Christ, she’s beautiful, I think to myself.
"It’s a little sad. I mean it’s a beautiful piece, but the artist, is trying to say something," I say as I look back at the painting.
"What do you mean?" she asks sounding intrigued.
I point at the painting, "See how the lines are defined. It’s like that’s where they ended, almost had each other, then the way his fingers are about to close off, like he is the one that is letting go of her. Hers are open." I look over to her, her eyes are wide and her hand is at her chest, her head a little tilted looking at me. "It’s a beautiful piece. I’d love to buy one of these. Do you know where this artist is?"
"Umm…" she looks a little taken back.
"What?" I ask wondering what has her so shocked.
"You know art?" her voice soft, almost a little shocked, and I smile.
"I have a minor in fine arts." I admit shyly.
"No shit? Really?" Suddenly she looks embarrassed her face
turning pink.
"Yeah, from Columbia." I laugh. She looks so stunned, her eyes wide.
"I’m sorry I just…"
"Didn’t expect a knucklehead like me to know art?" I asked and she shook her head, her eyes going back to the painting.
"For you to be so perfect," She whispers softly. Her eyes are soft as they gaze at the wall and something inside me freezes. This is a part of her I’m pretty sure she rarely shows too many. Her eyes go to my face and she looks like she didn’t mean to say it out loud. I am slightly surprised when I see her close her eyes, I can’t help but laugh.
"I’m not anywhere close to perfect." I say raising my eyebrows, I reach for her and put my hands around her waist.
"You like art and you’re nice to my friends and like my pastries…," she says still looking a little stunned yet so sincere something tugs at my heart. I wish I could hear her thoughts, know what she’s thinking, then something flashes in her dark eyes and she stiffens beneath my touch as if somehow mentally closing part of her off from me, and I don’t like it.
She scrunches her face up and I know whatever she is about to say is said to lighten the mood, "But you are a Laker’s fan…. So I guess you are right…" She gives me a semi fake laugh and I smile. Pulling her in close, my mouth on hers, I press down hard.
“So seriously. Where did you get this?” I ask, once I pull away from the kiss.
“Oh...Umm…,” she starts to mumble, her face slightly frowning. The tip of her tongue darts out touching her full bottom lip and that damn tightening in my pants starts up again.
“Angel?” I ask wondering what the big deal was about the painting.
“Pasadena… the street fair.” Something about the way she blurted out and was looking at made me think she wasn’t saying something. Deliberately keeping some truth locked away. Then she shakes her head and sighs.
“I umm… I did this one,” she admits, and now it’s my turn to feel surprised.
“You were an art major.” I say, remembering her telling me.
“Yeah, I didn’t start painting again until a couple of years ago. The girls got tired of their homes being filled with pieces. Carrie suggested selling a few pieces. She knew umm … a person over at city hall in Pasadena and he suggested the street fair.”
“Wow. I’m surprised galleries haven’t approached you.” I tell her, loving how full of surprises she is.
“They have.” She admits and I tilt my face at her. “I’m just not interested.”
“Really?” I ask looking back at the painting.
“Yeah, I mean I like the bakery. It’s steady and it’s growing. It’s good. It’s umm safe. I paint because I like to. It helps me escape a little.” I want to ask her what she needs to escape from but I don’t.
“Do you have any other pieces?” I ask and love the smile filled with mischief that falls over her face as she nods like she has the world’s biggest secret.
Holding my hand she pulls me towards her second bedroom. Walking into the dark room, I can smell the paint, and when she turns the light on, I’m surprised.
Beautiful pieces of art on canvases of different sizes are standing around the room, some are leaning on others. Many are filled with bright bold colors, while others are dark with bold strokes of bright color. Some of the paintings are scenery, some are abstract pieces, yet not one type is better than the other. Not one would suggest one style is more than another. There is a beautiful scenic piece on an easel of a beach.
“Where is that?” I ask her and she smiles.
“Goleta.”
“That’s by Santa Barbara right?” I ask and she nods.
“Yeah, I’ve never been. I was working off of a picture that Lucy took. She had this dinner thing she had to go with her boss and she stayed overnight and went to the beach early in the morning. She took it for me.”
“What does she do?” I ask and see her pale slightly.
“She’s a personal assistant,” she said and smiles brightly. Too brightly, almost as if she was nervous. Then I realize I hadn’t commented on what I thought.
“You’re very talented, Ellie. These are great.” I tell her kissing her forehead and I feel her body mold into mine a little.
“Thanks. You ready?”
“Yeah, here give me your bag.” I tell her, throwing her hunter green duffle over my shoulder.
Liz
Back at his house, we silently move to his room, where we get ready for bed. It is half past midnight and I am exhausted. My body ached in places it hadn’t ached in a long time, reminders of all the fun Parker and I’d had throughout the day and the previous night.
He steps out of the bathroom and I watch as he comes into the bedroom. Once again wearing a pair of basketball shorts, this time they’re a dark charcoal grey with three white stripes running down the sides, his broad muscular chest is bare.
“I have to go into work in the morning, but what about you staying here. I can be back by noon, we can go get lunch and hang out the rest of the day. What do you think?” he asks, suggesting plans as if we were some kind of couple, and something hits me.
One: I hadn’t really thought about it when the girls were gone and he suggested I hurry up and pack so we could come back to his place. Two: When that happened I didn’t put up a fight, I simply went with it. Three: I wasn’t the type of woman to let a man tell her what to do every step of the way. Four: (and most importantly) I realize how easy it could be to slip into the pretend world I seemed to be letting myself float in. Floating in a pretend world where I sleep next to him, and we make plans together like a couple. A couple we were not, especially not after just a couple of days. I don’t even know what the hell we are. We’re a prolonged one night stand. Right?
“What?” I ask, sounding surprised as I process all my realizations.
“Angel…,” he stops looking at his huge closet, his grey eyes are on me and look amused.
“Umm...we can do lunch. I have some things to do after though.” I say. I’m not lying. I do. I always do. My days off are usually more tiring than the days I work.
“Like?” he asks, giving me a half grin and I shrug.
“Umm… errands.”
“What kind of errands?” He asks, now clearly smiling as he walks to me. Grabbing my hand, he walks us back to the bed. Once he has us settled the way he wants, pillows behind him to prop him up. My body pulled up tight to his side and my head nestled close to his chest. Something about that position makes me feel safe.
Safe and cozy.
And completely under his spell! I try to shake away the Parker web of magic he has somehow sprinkled over me.
“I have to go to Target, I need shampoo and stuff… then I need to go grocery shopping. I realized my fridge is on the low side today after cooking for the girls…” I start to say, more to myself, as I run down the endless things I have to do, but really didn’t want to. The more I say the more I remember things I need to do, “then I have to go to the laundry mat to do clothes.”
I hate going to the Laundromat especially after dark.
My apartment’s safe, but the machines are always occupied and cost way too much, so I usually drive my stuff down two streets. That isn’t a great area, and I avoid going at night. With that in mind I keep talking, “I could leave early in the morning, start with laundry, that way I don’t have to go tomorrow night and I can just meet you wherever you want to have lunch. Then run errands afterwards?” I suggest, even if sleeping in sounds great, I’m quickly realizing this little fantasy bubble I was in with Parker isn’t real. Plus, he needs to go into work. I’d have to be up early anyhow, because there was no way he’d want me here in his house, without him.
“My fridge is stocked, make me a list of what you need and I’ll get my assistant to pick it up. After lunch, we can go get your laundry and you can do it here.” He says, not in a suggestion way, but more of ‘this is how it is going to be and something about that I like. A lot.
What was the worst
that could happen if I stayed in this make believe bubble one more day? I didn’t come up with any horrible life changing, or life threatening conclusions so I did what probably any woman in her right mind would do, I snuggled up close to Parker. I agree, and I don’t fight it. I snuggle into him, and we watch (and by we, I mean Parker) ESPN on the big flat screen TV mounted on the wall. I am warm and comfy, my eyes grow heavy. I try to fight sleep so that I can enjoy the feeling of being in his arms longer, trying to engrave the feeling into my memory, but it had been a long couple of days and sleep won. The last thing I remember is Parker’s lips sweetly kissing my forehead before sleep completely claims me.
Chapter Nine
Parker
I wake up with a jolt.
Opening my eyes, Ellie’s pretty face is right in front of me. Her body is close, her leg hooked over mine, and my arm is around her waist touching the base of her back. Her pretty yellow camisole had inched up, her skin was bare there and so damn soft, I can’t help touching her skin. The sensation of her skin beneath my fingertips slowly brings my dick to life. I want her in so many different ways. Even at the thought, I know it’s more than just sexually. What I want is more than just sex.
My dad had always told me that when I met THE ONE, I’d know. I’d laugh at him and he would just shake his head. Smiling, he’d tell me to wait and see. That I’d know and it would be as plain as day when I met her. As if every neon light on the Las Vegas strip was cast over her head, pointing at her like some scene from a cheesy cartoon. I always laughed him off when I was younger. For the last couple of years, watching him and my mom, I had almost started to believe that maybe somehow, I wasn’t meant to find someone like that.
I should’ve known better than to doubt my dad.
With that thought I pulled her in even closer, letting my lips touch hers, slow and sweet. Her mouth parts for me and I look down at her. Her mouth is open, her pretty pink tongue licks her lips, and my dick is fully awake and ready to go. My hands roam under her shirt, moving higher up her back and I feel her body shiver underneath the pads of my fingers. I watch her eyes open slowly.
Etched in Stone (Six Degrees Series Book 2) Page 13
