The Anchor

by B. N. Toler

  “Oh my God, Nik! You’re pregnant? Who’s the father?” Edie shrieked as she slapped my arm.

  My head reared back with her question as I took a step back. “What the fuck? Who said anything about being pregnant?”

  “You said you were packing for two.” She held up two fingers in emphasis.

  I couldn’t help laughing as I rolled my eyes. Leave it to my best friend to jump to that crazy conclusion. “I’m not pregnant! I meant I packed for you and me, Edie. I know you didn’t bring nearly enough in that little carry-on you brought. And what you brought is probably not club acceptable.” All of this was true. Edie was beautiful but shy. She doesn’t get highlights in her hair, she doesn’t wear a ton of makeup, and she doesn’t wear slutty clothes . . . unless I make her, that is.

  Her shoulders relaxed as she exhaled loudly. “Thank God. You scared the shit out of me,” she replied and began to giggle. I could tell I scared her. She doesn’t curse often.

  “Girl, I’d have to be institutionalized if I were preggo. I mean . . . could you imagine?”

  John didn’t add his thoughts as he turned back to the carousel to grab my last bag.

  “You’ll be an excellent mother one day, Nik, just not right now . . .” Edie prattled.

  “I know, Edie,” I assured her. “I know.”

  The mere thought of having a child was terrifying. What would I do with one? All of my life it had just been me. My mother bailed and my father couldn’t give a shit. I always had plenty of money and plenty of material things. I never had love. I wasn’t sure I would even know how to love a child.

  “Our ride is here.” John interrupted my thoughts as he slung the last of the luggage on the cart and began wheeling it toward the exit. When we made it outside, John immediately turned and yelled, “Shithead!”

  It was then I noticed a man with dirty blonde hair leaning against a Lincoln Town Car with his arms crossed. At the sound of John’s voice, he jerked and straightened into an impressive stance. He was tall. And he was handsome. Dressed in jeans and a navy blue T-shirt, he looked like some guy straight out of an Abercrombie & Fitch catalog. As he reached our group, his gaze landed on Edie and me. But I felt it, that moment when his eyes slid directly to mine and froze. “Uh . . .” he managed. I was thankful Edie didn’t respond so maybe it didn’t look like I was just as awestruck by him as he seemed to be with me.

  “Hey, hello, how are you, are usually the lines one opens with in greeting,” John said dryly.

  Parker’s gaze left mine and I took in a slow breath. Whoa. What the hell was that? “You forgot shithead,” he retorted and they both laughed and shook hands in a brotherly way.

  “Parker, this is Edie and Nikki. Ladies, this is shithead,” John added.

  “Thanks,” Parker snorted. Then his eyes met mine again. “It’s nice to meet you, ladies.” I wanted to look away from him. I mean, I could feel the heat on my face and I hated it. I’m not the kind of girl that blushes . . . ever. But the way he looked at me . . . I don’t know, it affected me, which was odd.

  When John cleared his throat and asked, “Shall we go?” Parker dragged his gaze from mine and smirked slightly.

  “Uh, yeah. This way,” he said. Shaking his head, he promptly helped John wheel the cart to the car and loaded the luggage. Edie and I sat in the backseat while the guys took the front and as Parker navigated through New York traffic, every so often I’d catch his eyes in the rearview mirror looking at me. And goddamn, every time I caught him, I smiled a little in return.

  It was his uncle’s apartment and there was only two bedrooms so when Edie and I took the guest bedroom, together, I felt bad. I knew her and John would want to have some alone time and now I was an official cock blocker. But Edie assured me it was fine.

  “You look fucking hot,” I told her as she anxiously tugged at the bottom of her dress as we prepared for a night out. Edie was a timid girl, but ever since John Wilson came into her life, she had become a bit of a freak. The two were involved in some kind of fuck buddy-literature fantasy thing. I had to admit, I was impressed because the whole thing was her idea. But even as she had begun to explore her more adventurous side, the shy Edie James still resided within her. Which was why, at that moment, she was clearly concerned about the smoking red number I’d picked out for her.

  “It’s really short,” she noted.

  “Please, Edie. John’s gonna bust a nut the moment you walk out of this bedroom and he sees you.”

  She laughed and shook her head at my crassness. “Red? I mean . . . you really think this color looks good on me? It’s not too ‘loud’?”

  “No,” I answered honestly and her brows furrowed. “I think you look fucking amazing in red. I think every guy that sees you tonight is going to go home and whack it as they fantasize about you.”

  “That’s a nice compliment, Nikki.” She chuckled. “I think, anyway. You look hot, too,” she added. “Like always.”

  “Why, thank you, Edie James,” I said in my best Southern girl voice as I sashayed toward her and we stood looking in the mirror. “You ready?”

  Edie cut a sly glance to me in the reflection of the mirror. “One last thing,” she said as she darted to the bathroom.

  “What?”

  “I’m going commando tonight,” she called as she shut the door.

  “Edie James!” I tsked. “I’m honored to be your friend!” I shouted and smiled as I heard her laughing.

  John and I drank and talked while we waited for the girls to get ready. It was good to shoot the shit with my friend again.

  “Okay, ma—” I began, but stopped when I heard the bedroom door open. Nikki stepped out wearing a tight, navy blue dress that hugged every delectable inch of her body. Instantly, I wanted to rip it off and rub myself all over her. My mouth went dry as my eyes trained on her—all of her—her long legs, her awesome tits, and her full lips. She was a walking wet dream sent from heaven to torture me. Or was it hell? I wasn’t sure. But damn I loved it.

  I was tongue-tied. The gentleman in me wanted to compliment her, but the beast in me wanted to fuck her senseless. It was a moment later when Edie emerged from the bedroom wearing a very short, fitted red dress. There was another beat of silence. John seemed to be tongue-tied as well. There we were, two well-educated law school graduates unable to talk around our boners. What the fuck? Someone please say something. This is getting embarrassing.

  “I’ll take your silence as a compliment, fellas,” Nikki laughed before doing a quick spin in front of the front hallway mirror. My gaze was glued to her. I couldn’t fucking look away. Mentally, I was praising the hell out of her.

  Fuck me.

  And the torment only continued. I felt as if I was a ravenous animal, starved, and Nikki was dangling fresh red meat in front of me. The woman was a fucking bombshell. Even the way she walked, the way her ass swayed, it was like a beacon calling to me. I was a goner.

  At dinner we were seated at a cozy table in the back and our group fell into easy conversation. The ride over to the restaurant helped me calm down. I could talk again like a normal person.

  “So, Edie, do you have plans after the summer ends and you can toss out this ass?” I asked as I jabbed my thumb at John. John had made an agreement with Edie’s grandfather to work three months on his horse farm. Even though Mr. James had passed, John still had to fulfill his end of the bargain . . . well, he could’ve gotten out of it if he’d wanted to, but John’s an honorable man. And apparently Bud James had helped him at a very pivotal time in his life. John felt like he owed Bud, at the very least, the three months he’d agreed to.

  “Oh . . . uh . . .” Edie’s gaze darted to John, whose gaze is focused on the plate of food in front of him. My brows furrowed slightly. Did I say something wrong? “No, not really,” she mumbled and shrugged. Then she dropped her head and sipped her wine. “Just get back to life, I guess,” she finished. Okay, that was awkward.

  A brief moment of quiet fell upon our group and I fel
t obligated to fill it. “John told me about your grandfather and I am sorry for your loss,” I admitted sincerely. Edie smiled faintly. “You must be one tough lady to take on a farm by yourself.”

  “I’ll toast to that,” Nikki agreed as she raised her glass and the rest of us followed, clinked our glasses and took small sips. “Speaking of which,” Nikki added. “Edie, this will be your first Thanksgiving alone. I want you to come out to my dad’s place with me. He actually acts fatherly on holidays.” I winced with her wording. What did that mean? Was her dad a dick or something?

  Edie suddenly stood and rushed off, bumping into the chairs of other tables in her mad dash. When I looked to John, he was staring after her, his mouth in a flat line and his gaze rich with concern.

  “I’m sorry, John . . .” Nikki began. “I wasn’t thinking about what I was saying.”

  “Not your fault, Nik,” John replied somewhat sadly. “If you two will excuse me,” he added as he stood up. He gave us one curt nod and then headed in the direction Edie had just gone.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked, unsure of what I missed.

  “Yeah,” Nikki assured me. “I just wasn’t thinking when I opened my big mouth. When John leaves, Edie will really be alone. I think it kind of freaks her out. She’s not used to being alone. Plus, between you and me . . . she likes him. A lot.”

  “He likes her, too.”

  “It’s a shame their dreams lead them in two different directions.”

  “They look good together,” I admitted.

  “Yeah . . .” she replied sadly.

  I needed to change the subject—fast. “Does anyone get used to being alone?” I asked before I sipped my whiskey.

  “Pardon me?”

  “You said she’s not used to being alone. I’m asking does anyone really get used to being alone.”

  “I prefer it, actually,” she said with certainty laced in her tone.

  “Really?” I asked surprised.

  Her blue eyes met mine. “It’s easier that way.”

  “What?”

  She half laughed and half snorted. “I think my response to that question is a little too deep for tonight.”

  I wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. But Nikki must’ve sensed it because she quickly changed the subject. “So . . . Mr. Hayes.” She purred my name as her stunning eyes gleamed at me. I liked the way she said my name; like she was a naughty secretary and I was her boss.

  “Yes, Nicole,” I answered as I leaned back in my chair and met her sexy gaze with mine.

  She grinned at my use of Nicole. “How do you know Nicole is my name?”

  “I don’t,” I answered honestly before taking another sip of my whiskey and setting the glass back on the table.

  Leaning forward, she placed one delicate hand on the table and slid it slowly toward my drink. “No one calls me Nicole.” I couldn’t tell if she was telling me she liked it or hated it and I didn’t care. The way she was looking at me would’ve kept me saying Nicole all fucking night long.

  As her hand slid back with my drink and she sipped the whiskey, I smirked. “Well I just did, didn’t I?” I challenged. Quirking one brow, she raised my glass to me in toast before tossing back the remainder of my drink.

  A woman that can handle whiskey . . .

  Fuck me.

  At that moment, John and Edie returned. Edie had a bright smile plastered on her face that didn’t look quite authentic, but everyone moved on. Dinner continued, and Nikki and I shared short glances throughout the meal. The attraction between us was palpable. At one point her foot weaved its way up my leg under my pants leg. She’d slipped off one of her shoes and the contact alone made me hard. I felt like a teenager all hopped up on hormones. And in that moment I made it my mission to have Nikki Reese that weekend; naked, fucked senseless, and begging for more. One way or another, I would devour the Southern princess.

  Just before dinner wrapped up, Edie and I made a quick trip to the ladies room. All through dinner she kept looking at me with a questioning gaze. I figured we needed a powwow so I could fill her in and relieve her concerns.

  “So, you two are really hitting it off,” she began casually as I applied my lip gloss.

  “He’s cute,” I replied with a shrug. I was definitely downplaying Parker’s looks. He wasn’t cute, he was fucking hot. And the way he said my name, why was that so hot? It was almost as if he was challenging me, or trying to fire me up. If that was his goal, it worked. I felt like a live wire the moment my name unapologetically rolled off his wicked tongue.

  Of course Edie wouldn’t let my vague response slide. “He’s really cute,” she corrected. “I think he likes you.” Her mouth curved slightly and I could tell she was having one of her matchmaker moments.

  “What’s not to like?” I smirked and held up the applicator stick to my lip gloss, letting her know she could benefit from a little gloss. The lipstick she applied back at Parker’s had faded. She tilted her head up and pouted her lips for me. “Are you trying to be a matchmaker, Edie James?”

  She rubbed her lips together and said, “No. I think you guys are doing fine on your own.” I tossed my makeup in my purse and looped my arm with hers. “We’re just having fun. We could never date. I don’t do long-distance relationships.” And that was true, but Edie knew me well enough to know distance didn’t matter much to me. I was a guarded person in spite of how I might appear to the outside world. There were very few people that were close to me, and for good reason. The more people you let in, the more likely they are to let you down.

  “Just be careful, okay?” An outsider might think she meant letting Parker take advantage of me or if we hooked-up to be careful, but that’s not what she meant. Edie was warning me not to hurt Parker. She knew how I operated.

  Not wanting to delve into her obvious meaning, I simply answered, “Yes, ma’am.”

  The club Parker took us to was packed, but the atmosphere was electric, the music blasting, bodies writhing on the dance floor. And to add to it, the intense chemistry surging between Parker and me was insane. We sat in the backseat of the cab together on the way over; I was in the middle between him and Edie while John sat in the front. His leg remained pressed against mine the entire ride and the simple contact was causing my body to tense. I hadn’t reacted like that to a man’s touch in years. It was scary, and amazing, and . . . scary some more.

  Once we made it to the club, Parker bought us all our first round of drinks. He handed John and Edie’s to them first then turned back for ours. I couldn’t help the smile I beamed when he handed me a shot of whiskey. Leaning toward me, his mouth to my ear, he said, “I like a girl that can handle the hard stuff.” Something deeper surged through me with his words and my belly fluttered. And an intense ache blossomed between my legs. Who was this man? The vagina whisperer?

  As I took the shot from him, I placed my mouth close to his ear, repaying him the favor, and replied, “I’m a woman, Mr. Hayes. Not a girl. You’d do well to remember that.” Stepping back from him, I raised my shot in toast before tossing it back.

  His dark eyes flickered as a sexy grin took over his features. Then he raised his shot in toast in return and downed it. We followed Edie and John to the dance floor and Parker’s hand found my hip, holding me close to him as we weaved our way through the crowd. Maybe it was the whiskey or the madness of the dancing and music around us, or maybe it was how Parker Hayes made me feel alive, whatever it was, I went with it. I let the want and need to let loose of my inhibitions free and let Parker move my body to his. His hand pressed into my back as we moved, his scent consuming my senses. Once we started dancing, I felt high, euphoric, and every time my gaze met his dark stare, I felt an ache down low in my belly. Then a little farther down. I wanted him. I didn’t care if having a one-night stand with him meant I was a slut. I was so tired of being a virgin and I had been too scared to give it up to anyone. But that night, I knew I’d lose myself in Parker Hayes and when I went home Sunday, it would be
over. I would give him something of myself willingly, and then I would go home where he couldn’t hurt me.

  Craning my head, I gave him a huge smile before I asked him, “Are you ready to see how much of a woman I am, Mr. Hayes?”

  When I pulled back, he swallowed hard, then his hand came to the back of my neck and he crushed his mouth to mine. His tongue dipped into my mouth forcefully as we clawed at one another, the need between us frantic and consuming. There we were, in the middle of a chaotic dance floor, kissing each other like our next breath depended on it. Most men I had kissed were timid the first time; they kissed me like I was made of porcelain and they might break me. Parker kissed me like he was punishing me; it was hard, and rough, and all-consuming. He bit my lip and tugged, then he sucked on it before invading my mouth with his soothing tongue. When I nipped his lip back, he growled, his hand gripping the back of my neck tighter, and jerked my body as close to his as possible. He was hard and he wanted me to know it.

  Pulling away, he looked down with hungry eyes. His mouth found my ear, where he nipped at my lobe, and I hoped the loud music muffled the whimper that escaped me. “The custom suit and fancy job might have you fooled, Nicole,” he growled. “But I’m no gentleman when it comes to fucking. I fuck like I work—hard. Are you woman enough for that?”

  And I gasped. A sensation ran through me. Fear. His words scared me, but they also excited me. I wanted something—someone—to make me feel alive. I was a humongous knot of built-up tension, something I hadn’t realized before that night. I lived with an ache, an itch I could never quite scratch. But what was the itch? It was only with Parker’s words that I realized what it was. I was a beauty queen, pretty and fancy, accustomed to men treating me like I was nothing but a prize they wanted to conquer. I wanted someone to see past that and handle me like the woman I knew deep down I was. This is what Parker was offering. In his bed, I would be Nicole, not Miss Holly Springs.