Broken & Torn (Emerald Falls #1)

14. 14

14

LYLA

I ’m at the art studio working on an oil piece, and I can’t help but let my thoughts wander as I decorate the canvas with paint. The week has been fairly uneventful, with only a few customers filtering in and out through the days. This left a lot of time for Parker and I to talk, but we didn’t discuss the night of the party. I knew there had been a shift that night and I’m not sure what that means for our friendship.

All weekend, I had dreams about the way his touch felt against my skin and the hunger in his eyes when they lifted to meet mine. In that moment, time had slowed and I couldn’t catch my breath. His irises had looked darker than usual, more of an ocean blue when the moonlight shone into their depths. I swear I had seen flashes of desire, and that had caused heat to rise to my cheeks and my heart had attempted to flee from my chest. I’d walked upstairs and fallen into bed with a huge smile on my face.

On Monday, I practically fell out of bed, in a rush to start my work day. I love my job, but that wasn’t the reason I had been looking forward to the day.

It was because I couldn’t wait to see him again.

He had shown up at his usual time, with coffees in hand. When our fingers brushed against each other as I grasped the cup, I felt a shock run up my entire arm and into my spine. It had immediately made my heart jump to attention and his eyes shot to mine. A look of pure wonder lit his features and his gaze tore through every wall I had ever put up.

The rest of the week had been much of the same; electric touches and shared looks. Going to work was becoming painful because I had to refrain from crashing my mouth to his. I’d never felt this pull towards a man before and to be honest, it’s all sorts of confusing. We’re friends—good friends. Do I really want to potentially ruin everything we’ve built? Not at all. So, I haven’t acted on it. Instead, I spent the week getting to know Parker even more and attempted to ignore the feelings that were beginning to surface.

My thoughts come to a halt as Bev saunters up behind me and says, “Lyla, this painting is stunning. I love the way you played with the colors and the texture you’ve added to your mountain ranges.”

I survey my work and my eyes wander over the mountains. I’ve added layers of paint in order to create complexity and ridges.

“Thank you, Bev. I tend to draw more than I paint, but it’s been fun to dive back into oil and acrylics. I definitely need to brush up on my skills though.” I chuckle, pointing to my attempt at painting pine trees. “I just have to keep testing out different techniques.”

Bev nods thoughtfully as she critiques my work and we fall into a deep discussion on painting techniques and run through a few of them on a separate canvas. Finally, I’m finished for the day and I begin cleaning up my mess. Bev assists me, despite my protests, and I soon find out why she’s lingered.

“So, what’s going on with you and Parker?”

I nearly choke on my own saliva and let out a cough before turning my attention back to cleaning.

“We’re friends,” I repeat the same words I’d said to Cassie.

“Hm.” Bev carefully considers this before stating, “It seems like more to me. But what do I know? I’m in my late fifties and have been single since I was twenty-five.”

I startle at this. I know that Bev isn’t married, but I figured she was divorced or had a companion of some sort. I don’t want to pry, but my curiosity gets the better of me.

“You haven’t dated since you were in your twenties? I find that hard to picture. Anyone would be lucky to have you as their partner.”

“Well, I dated. I tried until my forties,” she corrects, “but nothing felt right.”

“But you weren’t always single?” I question.

She lets out a sigh before continuing. “No, I was engaged at one time.” She pauses and has a far-off look in her eyes. I’m wondering where her thoughts have transported her when she whispers, “He died.”

I gape at her, not knowing what to say. Pain pierces my heart as I think of this spunky and lovely woman being alone for the last three decades.

“I’m so sorry, Bev.” I reach for her hand and cover it with my own to stop her from continuing to clean. “Truly. I can’t imagine how that must have felt to lose somebody you loved.”

She gives my hand a squeeze before releasing it. “It’s okay. I feel lucky to have known that kind of love, honestly. Not everybody gets to experience it.” She side-eyes me “So trust me when I say that Parker does not look at you the way a friend does.”

I briefly contemplate what she’s saying.

“Well, I don’t want to ruin what we have. He’s—” I try to find the right words. “He’s my best friend.”

“I understand that, but that’s what love is. Jim was my very best friend, as well as the greatest love of my life. He made me feel safe, cherished, like I could be entirely myself.” She laughs softly before saying, “I think that’s what it means to be in love. Oh, get that shocked look off of your face.” She points a finger in my face, “You know as much as I do that what you feel towards each other is more than friendly.”

I cave. “ I know.”

“So do something about it.” She states, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“I’ll think about it, I promise. For now, I like how things are going.”

She scoffs before saying, “Youth is wasted on the young.” Before promptly gathering up some paint brushes and heading to the back sink.

Parker invited me over for dinner, so after I leave the studio, I hop in my Jeep and make my way to his house. The winding roads up to his property provide stunning views of the landscape and I can’t help but admire the beauty. The sun is beginning to set, as it’s now mid-October and the days are getting shorter. Trees line both sides of the pavement as I keep both hands on the wheel, weaving my way up the mountain road. I’m already beginning to understand why Parker loves it up here so much. While it’s a small town as is, the isolation up here is so tranquil.

I finally find the right hand turn leading to his home and turn on my signal light. I drive through the open gate and make my way up the short gravel road before seeing a beautiful wood cabin. The front door is ornate and made of hand-crafted wood and the land looks well kept. I park my vehicle in the driveway, beside Parker’s black pick up, and make my way to the front entrance. The door opens as I raise my fist to knock and I meet the arctic blue eyes that have become a solace for me. He gives me a wide grin and is wearing—an apron?

“Hey, I heard you pulling up. You really need to get her fixed.”

I turn around and look at my Jeep. Cherry had seen some damage the day I’d rear-ended him and I haven’t gotten around to getting her fixed yet. The bumper still has a huge dent where it had hit his trailer hitch and I groan inwardly. I have no idea how much it will cost but I know that I need to get the work done soon.

“Yeah,” I chuckle. “I haven’t gotten around to it. What’s for dinner? It smells amazing.”

Parker opens the door fully and steps back to allow me inside of his space. I take a look around and I can’t help but fall in love. You can see how much work he had put into this home. It’s evident in the custom bookshelves lining his living room and in the tasteful yet masculine decor. He kept the character details of the home and the cast iron fireplace in the corner. The trim around the room is stunning and my eyes can’t help but peruse the intricate craftsmanship. The floors are hardwood, but he has rugs scattered throughout the home, giving it a warm and welcoming feeling. I make my way through to the kitchen and stop dead in my tracks.

It’s the most beautiful kitchen I’ve ever seen in a cabin. The counter tops are a butcher block style of wood and the cabinets are painted off-white with black metal handles. There’s a concrete island that looks custom made for the space, with black bar stools along the edge. All of the appliances look top-grade and are beautifully brushed stainless steel.

“Wow, this kitchen is amazing, Parker.”

He gestures for me to sit on one of the stools and I do as he asks.

“Thanks. My last place was a rental with Annie and it never really felt like home. This place—well, it feels like my sanctuary.”

I nod, deeply understanding the sentiment. It’s exactly how I feel about my little apartment above the store with Cassie. It’s the first place that has felt like a safe haven.

“Well, I love it. It feels like you.”

Parker takes a brief glance around the space and replies, “Yeah, it really does. I picked out everything here and it was the first time I had really decorated for myself. Annie decorated our place and before that, I had been renting a bedroom in a house with Theo.”

He busies himself in the kitchen and points to an open bottle of red wine on the counter.

“I tried to get something that you would like. There are glasses in that cupboard. ”

I hop off the stool and make my way to the wine bottle. I look at the label and realize that it’s an Argentinian Malbec, my favorite type of red wine. I give Parker a look of disbelief.

He clears his throat, “I may have remembered you mentioning that you liked that region… and that grape variety. Don’t be weird.”

He turns back to the stove top and I smile as I pour myself a full glass. I bring the wine glass to my mouth and take a small, tentative sip. I audibly moan as it hits my tongue. Flavors of dark fruits and spices coat my mouth and I make a mental note to ask where he bought the bottle. I walk over to his existing glass with the bottle and top him up before making my way back to the stool.

“So you never answered me. What are you making?”

“Beef stroganoff. It was my mom’s recipe. She loved cooking for everyone and regularly made this dish for Sunday dinner. It was a night that everyone made sure they were available and we would sit around the table and talk about our week.”

“God, she sounds amazing. Your dad talks about her sometimes and it sounds like she was the best wife and mother.” I take another sip of wine. “You must miss her.”

“Every day,” he sighs. “I miss her every single day. I love working in her bookstore, adding to her legacy. It makes me feel closer to her even though she’s gone.”

“When did she get sick?”

Parker pauses for a long while and I begin to wonder if he didn’t hear me.

Then he says, “Twelve years ago. She died less than a year after her diagnosis.”

“I’m so sorry. That must have been hard to watch.”

“It was… but mom always had a smile on her face. She was given six months to live, and lived for an extra four. I swear she was fighting even until the bitter end.” He smiles at the memory. “She was so determined to live her life to the fullest. Do you know the song, Live Like You Were Dy ing by Tim McGraw?”

“Of course, I love that song.”

He laughs, “Well, mom and I listened to it a lot when she got diagnosed. She always loved Tim’s music and this song obviously resonated deeply with her.” He lets out another hoarse chuckle, “We even went skydiving together.”

I gape at him. “Really?”

“Yeah, she decided even though she never previously had a desire to, she wanted to go before she died. Dad and Peyton were too scared to go with her, so we went just the two of us.” He has a far away look in his eyes that tell me he’s imagining them back in that moment. “She went first. She wanted to hold my hand until she made the jump. I remember her screaming ‘let’s fucking do this’ before the instructor flung them off the edge. It’s the most carefree I’d ever seen her.”

“It sounds like she was so full of love and life. I envy that.”

He turns off the burner and pours the egg noodles into a strainer. Once he’s dumped the noodles back into the pot, he mixes in some butter and sets it to the side. He turns to face me and his next words shock me.

“So are you.”

I sputter, “M—me?”

“Yes, you. I see the way your face glazes over when you look at anything you find beautiful, as if you’re picturing how you’ll sketch it later. I see the way you throw your head back in a laugh and the way your eyes crinkle at the sides when you find something truly hilarious. I see how your hand twitches when you’re feeling a bout of creativity, as if you can’t possibly wait to get your hands on a pencil or a paintbrush. I see the way you interact with Cassie and my family, so full of love and acceptance.”

He pauses and his stare intensifies.

“And I see the way you look at me.”

My breath catches in my throat as I wait for him to continue.

“You look at me like you genuinely appreciate the things that I do for you. You look at me like I’m the best friend you’ve ever had. And you look at me like I’ve hung the moon. I’m not used to that, but I feel your love. It’s almost tangible.”

I sit in shock for a moment before recovering.

“You’re my best friend, Parker,” I whisper. “I’ve never had a best friend and I’m terrified of losing you.”

“You won’t.” He reassures me. “I’ll always be here for you, in any capacity.”

He lets the words hang in the air. I should take the opportunity to say that I want him in a greater capacity. Bev’s words from earlier play through my head and I almost say it.

But I don’t.

“I’ll always be here for you, too.”

He gives me a big toothy smile before saying, “Okay, enough with the heavy stuff. Let’s eat.”

We sit at the island, side by side, chatting and drinking wine. We talk about the books we’re reading, a new Matt Maeson song that was released, his future plans for the store, and everything in between. Before I know it, the bottle of wine is empty and our plates are practically licked clean. Not only is Parker handsome, but he can cook too. He talked about how his mom taught him from a young age, insisting that it’s what would land a woman one day. He even recalled a time that he almost set their family home on fire in his attempt to make an omelet. I wash the dishes while Parker dries, and before I know it, it’s ten o’clock and time to head home. Parker walks me to my Jeep and hands me a large Tupperware of leftovers.

I’m about to climb into the vehicle when Parker asks, “Do you want to go hiking with me tomorrow? It’s supposed to be a warmer one and I thought maybe you would want to go and check out the falls.”

I grin at him. He knows I’ve been dying to go hiking ever since I moved here and my boots are finally worn in with my walks around town.

“I’d love to. ”

“Great. I’ll pick you up at nine? It’s two hours to the falls, so maybe we can have a picnic.” He looks down at his feet and kicks at loose gravel.

Parker Hamilton is nervous.

“That would be great. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I pull him into a hug, sensing that he needs the reassurance in this moment. He pulls me tighter to his chest and I swear he’s inhaling my scent. Goosebumps prickle my skin and I shiver. His hands tighten around my waist and I suck in a breath.

Before I end up climbing on top of this man, I let go and bid him good night.

As I make my way down the gravel road, I see him still standing there, watching as I depart. Eventually, I can no longer spot him and I make my turn onto the mountain road. The drive home is a blur and thoughts of Parker flood my mind.

After this evening, I know without a doubt that I’m falling in love with that man. I don’t know what the future holds, but Cassie’s voice suddenly rings out in my head.

“It’s inevitable.”