Chapter 10
Anya
I took the fastest shower of my life, braiding my hair off my face before rooting through the closet in the guest room. I settled on denim shorts and a pale green shirt that made my eyes glow.
There wasn’t much time left, based on what Parker told me about Greer’s drive from Salem, where she lived with her husband, Beckett, and her stepdaughter, Olive.
My hands were shaking when I swiped on a coat of mascara because having to face Paige, of all freaking people, had my stomach in utter knots. Greer would precede them by about fifteen minutes because it was just my fucking luck that they were loaded and overprotective and could do things like charter a last-minute flight from Seattle to Portland to check on their honorary granddaughter to make sure she was okay after her dickwad ex decided to run his mouth to the press.
“Shit,” I whispered. “What are we doing?”
Why, why was it so much easier in Vegas when he laid this all out for me?
Sure , let’s make our families feel better.
What a fucking crock. A tiny voice in the back of my head whispered that we couldn’t do this. That if we failed today, everything would come crumbling down right on top of our heads.
My parents would know. I wouldn’t be able to access my trust. Helping Vida would be a pipe dream. And the embarrassment of having to admit what we’d done was more than I could stomach, especially after what that shithead pulled today.
No , I told myself firmly, staring at my own reflection. “You will not fail at this,” I said fiercely.
A wave of anxiety crashed through my brain, and I braced my hands on the counter, hanging my chin down while I tried to get my breathing under control. I stared at the makeup and face creams all over the counter while I tried to ground myself.
If there was more time, I’d have cleaned up all my shit.
I snapped upright on a gasp.
My shit. All over the guest space.
“Parker,” I yelled.
The door burst open, his flushed face poking through. “What’s wrong?”
“My stuff,” I hissed. “It’s all over the guest room. What if Logan and Paige want to see your place?”
There was no hesitation. He started yanking hangers out of the closet, darting across the hall to shove it in his own. With jerky movements, I opened my cosmetic bag and swept my hand over the counter, shoving it all inside.
By the time I had the bathroom cleaned up, he’d moved all my clothes from the closet, only a sports bra and a pair of leggings crumpled on the floor, leftover from my workout. I flung it in his direction as soon as he came back into the room, and he caught it deftly, an amused crook to his lips when he realized what it was.
“Flinging your bra at me already, wife?” He hummed, holding it up to his nose. “Slow down a little bit.”
I snatched it out of his hands, ignoring the low, amused chuckle as I flung it onto the floor of his bedroom. “Don’t pick it up,” I told him. “It looks more realistic.”
“Like I tore your clothes off after you’d worked out?” Parker whistled. “Nice touch. Sounds like something I’d do.”
“You are insufferable.”
I was so full of shit. I’d suffer that gladly, and if he looked too hard into my face right now, he’d probably see right through me. My cheeks felt like they were on fire, and if I looked down—which I had no intention of doing—I had a feeling my nipples would be very on board with that scenario too.
“So I’ve heard.” I followed Parker down the stairs, and he glanced out toward the front patio, where he’d unlocked the gate for Greer. “Should we wait outside? Pretend we’re excited this is about to happen?” He gave me a loaded look. “You know she’s gonna ask you a million questions.”
“I can handle questions. I know way more about you than you think. Your ass should be worried about Logan and Paige.”
He waved that off. “I was raised in the same household as Greer. Strong women don’t intimidate me.”
I tapped my chin. “Remind me what you said when you interrupted my workout earlier?” I held up my hands like he’d done. “ Please don’t hit me. ”
Parker’s eyes heated, and I felt my stomach pitch and roll, an invisible swoop of a roller coaster I didn't realize I was riding. “Oh, golden girl, that wasn’t intimidation I was feeling.”
Curiosity was as powerful as the involuntary clench between my legs, both of them a bright shock to my system as he took a step closer. “Golden girl?”
He raised one big hand, but before he touched my face, his thumb brushed the line of my neck as he slowly pulled the damp braid from behind my shoulder and toyed with the ends. “Golden,” he repeated. “That dress you were wearing at the wedding. Your hair. Your skin.” His eyes traced over my face. “Those freckles you can only see when you’re this close. I wonder what they taste like,” he whispered, almost like he hadn’t intended to say it out loud.
Lust crashed through my chest, pumping straight through my heart and funneling outward until my hands tingled at his proximity. He smelled so good. An errant thought broke through, wondering if I slid my nose along the base of his throat, if the smell would be stronger there.
This was what I’d been missing.
The crackle of electricity, the potency of not knowing what might happen next. Not once had the air gone thick with this violent sort of anticipation in all my years with Max.
It wasn’t safe. It definitely wasn’t steady, and it called to some long-ignored part of me that craved the opposite of those things.
It was foolish to think about this for too long, to wonder why it seemed to come naturally between Parker and me.
His eyes lingered on my mouth, his fingers still toying with the ends of my hair. Slowly, he prowled forward until my back hit the wall. Parker’s free hand came up by the side of my head, caging me in to where I stood. I tried not to fidget, but I refused to touch him with any sort of intent. Not just yet.
But my chest heaved, and for a moment, he glanced down at where our bodies almost touched, a shiver wracking his massive frame as we hovered on the edge of a precipice.
Once we tipped over, there’d be no undoing it.
There were a thousand reasons not to, maybe even more. We both had so much riding on this, and still, just standing this near to him, I was ready to unhook the metaphorical parachute and sprint right off the cliff’s edge.
His eyes were heavy-lidded as he stared down into my face like he was just as drunk on this proximity as I was.
“Can you pretend with me tonight, golden girl?” he asked, voice low and urgent, tight with need.
“Pretend?” I whispered.
He let out a small hum, his eyes still locked on my mouth. “Pretend we couldn’t help ourselves. Pretend whatever’s between us is so fucking powerful that logic didn’t factor into a single decision we made.” My heart clenched painfully the longer he spoke, a yearning breaking open so fast I wasn’t even aware it happened until my fingers curled into the front of his shirt. Parker’s eyes pinched shut, his chest heaving on a great big breath.
“Pretend every second you’re not touching me is torture,” I added.
“Yes,” he said in a low growl. “Pretend I didn’t say no that first night. That I was the one who tore your clothes off. Pretend I didn’t have the strength to resist you, and I fucked you all over that hotel room because I was out of my mind by the time we were alone.”
A helpless whimper pushed past my lips, and Parker rolled his forehead against mine. The fantasy wrapped itself around me like a thick vine, twisting and coiling until I had no choice but to imagine everything he’d just said.
To be wanted, to be desired like this, it was powerful . Some parched, shriveled part of my heart, the part that still felt broken, bloomed underneath whatever spell he’d conjured, fortified and strengthened as I tried to tug him closer.
“Pretend this isn’t exactly why I stayed away all week,” he groaned. The hand in my hair slid firmly around my waist, ducking underneath my shirt so that his palm and fingers were tight against my skin as he anchored me to his chest.
When those calloused fingertips brushed along my ribs, my hips pushed forward restlessly, and my eyes snapped open.
Either Parker snuck a metal bat into his pants—a big bat—or he was just as into this little game as I was.
My hands tightened in his shirt.
“Pretend I might die if you don’t kiss me,” I risked on a whisper.
In the next heartbeat, his mouth slanted over mine, his body pressing me into the wall until we didn’t have a single inch between us as he stole a kiss so fierce that I couldn’t breathe.
I didn’t want to breathe. I just wanted this. Just wanted him.
All the thoughts in my brain—jumbled and angry and confused and heartbroken—went silent as the grave from the feel of his lips on mine. It was all static, and everything was muted except for this.
He kissed like he was born to do it. Like he was born to kiss me . The sudden thought of him doing this with another woman, ever, had me pressing up onto the balls of my feet, digging my hands into his hair, and meeting the slide of his tongue with my own. It was wet and hot, and God, I wanted to feel it everywhere.
Then I bit down on his bottom lip, and he groaned, the sound pulling goose bumps along my arms.
Parker slowly wound my braid around his hand and tugged. I broke away from the kiss on a gasp, melting against the wall when he placed a sucking kiss on the sensitive skin underneath my jaw. His other hand gripped my ass, and I rocked against him, shivering when he groaned against my skin. The drag of his teeth on my neck had me tossing my head back.
A shocked squeak came from the doorway. “Ugh, my eyes. My eyes!”
At the sound of Greer’s voice, I shoved at the wall of Parker’s chest, face flaming with utter mortification. He hung his head down into the crook of my neck while his chest heaved with great, big gulping breaths. His arm didn’t move from around my waist.
Parker slowly lifted his body off mine but kept a hand braced on the wall as he swiveled his head and leveled a glare at his sister, who had her hands slapped over her face. “Ever heard of knocking, Greer?” he snapped.
“You left the door unlocked.” She peeked through her fingers, then slowly lowered her hands when she deemed it safe. “Do you know what? This isn’t the first time I’ve innocently stumbled on incontrovertible proof of my brothers having a sex life, and it never gets less traumatic.”
I smoothed a trembling hand over the top of my head, and after getting an eyeful of Parker’s very obvious hard-on, I took pity and smoothly stepped in front of him. “Hi, Greer,” I said with a pained smile. “Good to see you again.”
Everyone in the Wilder family was incredibly attractive, and even though Greer and Parker were stepsiblings, she was just as hot as her brother—long dark hair, big dark eyes, and a wide smile that looked exactly like Adaline’s. It was that smile that she aimed at me now.
“Holy shit, he actually married you,” she said, a slow, wondrous shake of her head as she studied me head to toe. “Unbelievable.”
Behind me, Parker let out an aggrieved sigh. “It’s not like I made it up. There were pictures, Greer. Pictures and videos and a signed marriage certificate. Some of us do it legally when we decide to get married.”
I gave him a curious look, but Greer simply flipped her middle finger up and scratched her nose with it. “Look who’s all high and mighty now that he’s got a wife. Nice to see you acting like yourself again, you giant horse’s ass.” She motioned. “Now, come give me a hug.”
“No.” When her mouth fell open, he held up a hand. “Trust me, Greer. You want to give it a few minutes.”
Her nose wrinkled. “Gross,” she whispered.
Honestly, I just wanted to go hide, and Paige and Logan weren’t even here yet. “This is not the way I wanted to meet his family,” I admitted with a wry grin. “Officially. Obviously, I’ve met you before.” I cupped my cheeks, which were flaming hot. “You know what I mean.”
“I sure do.” Greer held up a bag. “I brought wine. That should help.”
“What a gracious guest you are,” Parker said smoothly. “Inviting yourself over to dinner and ignoring me when I said no.”
Greer winked at me. “He loves it when we do stuff like this.”
“No, I really, really don’t.”
She’d clearly been here before because she opened the correct drawer for the bottle opener. Greer poured a glass, then lifted it up toward me with a question in her eyes. I shook my head. No amount of alcohol in the world would help me get through this. Her gaze drifted over to the dining room table, where she saw five place settings and the pizza Parker had delivered while I was in the shower. “Who else is coming?”
Parker and I traded a glance. He laid his hand on my shoulder and squeezed, the casual gesture doing nothing to stem the flood of sex hormones continuing to course through my body. Lord, at this rate, if he held my hand , I’d probably still want to mount him like a friggin’ horse.
“Remember Emmett’s parents, Logan and Paige?”
Her face lit up. “She’s so fucking awesome. I want to be her when I grow up.”
Parker grimaced. “Trust me, you’re on your way. Just promise you’ll protect me if Logan decides to snap my neck or something.”
“Oh buddy, I’m gonna sit back and take pictures if that happens.”
Parker
Logan Ward was the single scariest coach in the NFL.
And for the last thirty minutes, he sat across from me in my own home, arms crossed over his chest, and stared me down like he had absolutely nothing else to do with his time.
Anya told him three times to knock it off, which he ignored.
Greer thought it was hilarious.
And Paige, Logan’s stunning wife, seemed content to watch how this all played out. They were both in their mid to late fifties, and neither looked like they’d aged much in the last decade, other than some faint lines around their eyes and silver around Logan’s temples.
I cleared my throat and stretched an arm out behind Anya’s chair, my wrist dangling off the edge. Logan’s eyes tracked the movement, then settled back on my face.
I forced a tight smile. “So … how’s the team looking this year? You had some great draft picks on defense.”
His eyebrow arched at a glacial pace. “You want me to tell you things that could help you during the regular season? Why the hell would I do that?”
Paige rolled her eyes, tossing her red hair behind her shoulders as she leaned forward. “Please ignore my brute of a husband. Been married for a couple of decades now, and I cannot get this man to relax when it comes to the women in his life.”
Logan cut her a quick look. “Aren’t you the little hypocrite?”
“No,” Paige said airily. “I simply know when to back down.”
Anya choked on her water, waving me away when I settled a hand on her back. “I’m fine,” she croaked. “I just … I’ve never heard such a load of bullshit in my entire life.”
Logan’s implacable features finally budged, a hint of a smile hooking the edge of his lips.
Paige sniffed. “Yeah, well, maybe I’m maturing.” When her husband snorted quietly, she ignored him. “Or maybe my reputation has preceded me. Notoriety is incredibly effective.”
Greer held up her glass of wine. “This is what I tell my brothers all the time. Someone has to take things right over the line. You know, just past the point of comfort. Otherwise, how does anyone know you’re serious?”
“You are a girl after my own heart,” Paige said with a grin. “We should trade stories.”
“Don’t,” I groaned. “Greer doesn’t need any encouragement.”
“Hey, I only do it when it’s necessary.”
I raised a disbelieving brow.
“It’s true. When Emmett first came around for Adaline, I was so nice to him,” she insisted. “Not a threat in sight.”
Paige melted. “Our kid is awesome. How could anyone not be nice to him?”
Greer held up her glass like, see ?
I set my chin on my hand, elbow braced on the table, and pinned my sister with a look. “What about that time you threatened a child?”
Logan’s eyebrows popped up.
Greer rolled her eyes. “Why are my siblings so obsessed with bringing up shit from the past? He was bullying my stepdaughter, and all I did was ask him a simple question.”
Paige leaned in, eyes rapt. “What was the question?”
“I merely asked what would happen if someone took a nail gun to his balls.” She smiled. “It was hypothetical.”
Paige laughed in delight. “You’d fit in so well in our family.”
I shook my head. “This is why you don’t scare me, Mrs. Ward. Because my sister is an absolute terror.”
“Please, call me Paige.”
“I would,” I answered politely, “but I’m scared shitless of your husband.”
All three women at the table laughed. Anya leaned in as she did, and my fingers brushed unconsciously over the curve of her shoulder.
Kissing her might have been stupid, but it wasn’t a mistake. Without it, I was reasonably sure we wouldn’t have been able to pull this off. There was an ease in touching her now, even if my mind would turn over the details later when I inevitably couldn’t sleep.
“So let me get this straight,” Greer said. “You’re Emmett’s parents, but you also raised Logan’s sisters? And Anya’s stepmom is one of those sisters?”
Paige and Logan traded a quick, warm look. “Yes,” Paige answered. “Logan had custody of the four girls before we got married. They were all in their teen years when I entered the picture. By the time Isabel married Anya’s dad, Logan and I had been married maybe … eleven years? Twelve? Right around there. I can’t math in my old age.”
Anya gave me a quick smile. “Everyone on Isabel’s side of the family felt larger than life. My dad’s siblings are awesome too. I love the Hennessy side of my family, but … the Wards were different. As a little kid, it felt like being adopted by a bunch of superheroes.”
Paige reached across the table and laid her hand over Anya’s. “I’ll never forget the day we met you for the first time.”
Anya wrinkled her nose. “When I had Isabel falling out of a tree?”
Paige laughed, and even Logan conceded a tiny smile. “Yeah, that.”
“Committing acts of violence at a young age, were you?” I asked with a grin.
Anya rolled her eyes. “No. It was an accident. I climbed into a tree way too high, and Isabel had to help me down. The branch holding us snapped, and she turned to take the brunt of the fall. She sprained her wrist and hit her head. Thankfully, I outgrew that daredevil streak.”
“Now you just get married in Vegas for fun,” Logan said evenly. “To someone we don’t know.”
It didn’t feel prudent to point out that I’d met him no less than three times before this dinner, and I was a groomsman in his son’s wedding.
“Oh please,” Paige scoffed. “Quit trying to scare the boy. We’ve met Parker plenty of times, and you liked him. Wanted to get him to play for Washington if I remember correctly.”
“He did,” Anya interjected, leaning closer to me like everyone at the table couldn’t hear her talk. “Called Allie and said, I quote, I think you should pay whatever you can to get that kid on our sidelines, he’s fucking incredible.”
I couldn’t help but grin. Logan’s eyes narrowed, and I rolled my lips together.
Logan cut his wife a look. “That was before.”
“Before me?” Anya asked.
Logan nodded. “You’ve had a rough year, kid.”
Anya set her hand on my thigh under the table and squeezed. “We’ve both had a rough year.”
A foreign sensation warmed my chest, and I kept my gaze safely on the table.
“I know you have.” After a quick glance at me, Logan sighed. “I wish … I wish I’d known about Max earlier. I could’ve done something.”
“Stop,” Anya insisted. “He was a very good liar.”
“Had to drag Emmett off him that next day in practice.” Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Then he opened his big fucking mouth, and they had to drag me off next. Thank God no press was there.”
Paige tilted her head. “Wish I could’ve been there to see that.”
“I wish that too,” Anya said wistfully. “I also wish I hadn’t been dumb enough to trust him for so long.”
“You weren’t dumb,” I interjected. “When someone doesn’t want to show what’s going on underneath the surface, even the smartest, most trusting people can be fooled.”
Anya’s eyes locked with mine, and the shared secret that we were doing the same thing to our families had my pulse speeding. We were in this together, she and I. We had our own reasons, yes, but I couldn't deny that her reasons were inextricably linked with mine. I took a risk and slid my hand up Anya’s back, wrapping my hand around the back of her neck and dragging my fingers lightly over the satin-soft skin there.
“Besides, his loss is my gain, isn’t it?” Her braid tickled the back of my hand, and her eyes fluttered shut for a moment. “And if that idiot wants to keep running his mouth to the press, then let him.”
Silence blanketed the room, and I caught Greer and Paige share a quick, loaded glance. Logan’s expression was thoughtful. My hand moved back to the chair, and Anya let out a shaky breath.
“Well, that answers a few questions,” Paige murmured to her husband.
“Does it?” he said, eyes still pinned on me. Paige elbowed him in the side, and he grunted, slipping his hand over to rest on her leg under the table.
“Sorry,” Paige said to Greer. “He’s not usually this mean. Even with the girls, he let them make their own mistakes. It’s this younger generation that has him a bit more worked up.”
My sister smiled. “Are you kidding? Have at it. It’s nice to see someone else give him shit. Usually, that’s my job.”
“Believe me when I say no one gave you that responsibility,” I told her.
Anya patted my thigh. “Keep it up. It’s good for him.”
I plucked her hand off my leg and brought her fingers up to my mouth, biting down gently on her fingertips. “Now, now, golden girl, you keep me humble enough.”
At the nickname, Paige’s eyes sharpened with interest. “Golden girl?” she asked innocently.
Shit.
Anya’s cheekbones were flushed pink, and she tugged her hand back into her lap. I cleared my throat and somehow managed to ignore the way Logan stared intently at the two of us.
Instead, I kept my eyes on Anya’s profile. “Yeah. Everything about her is so bright, you know? Beautiful, obviously. But it’s more than that. She’s warm and good and generous. Only someone with a heart of gold could put up with this wreck.”
Finally, she lifted her eyes, and when they met mine, there was a different sort of explosion in my chest. The same kind I felt when I saw her in Vegas. It wasn’t the painful kind like I used to feel with my dad. It still left me slightly breathless, though, something powerful in its own right.
For a split second, a voice whispered in the back of my head that I was simply trading one distraction for another. That nothing was actually being solved by what was happening.
I ignored that little asshole like my life depended on it.
Paige sniffed loudly, and when she dabbed underneath her eyes, I was pulled from that line of thinking. Logan’s face had finally, finally softened, and Greer was watching us with a smug grin on her face.
A while later, Greer and Logan and Paige left, with hugs and a begrudging handshake, and Anya and I were left alone again.
Wordlessly, she helped me clean up in the kitchen.
When the counters were gleaming, the table clear, she finally spoke.
“That wasn’t too bad,” she admitted.
I gave her a quick look. “No. I thought they’d ask me more questions.”
“I think they just want to see us together.” Anya pulled at the tie holding her braid together, tugging her fingers through the mass of her hair until it spilled around her shoulders. My hands clenched into fists, tingling from the urge to see if it was still damp from her shower. “Make sure that everything feels right, I guess. That we’re comfortable together.”
“You’re probably right.”
“Are you going to hide from me again now that they’re gone?”
Our eyes met and held, but I didn’t answer at first. “I wasn’t hiding,” I lied.
Anya smirked. “Okay, husband.”
“Don’t look so smug,” I told her. “I’ve never lived with anyone before. A girlfriend, or a partner, or anything. It’s new.” I tapped the sketchbook she’d left on the kitchen counter. “You’re everywhere.”
Anya hummed, her eyes unrelentingly curious.
“You kissed me,” she said quietly.
I wanted to kiss her again. It wasn’t nearly long enough. I wanted to kiss her other places too because the idea that she’d never been with anyone who took their time with her, who never made her scream and shake, was so fucking criminal. I’d never met a woman like Anya before—all she had to do was breathe, and she was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
It wasn’t even just good sex that she deserved. This woman deserved to be worshipped.
What would it hurt to be the one to do that for her?
It might hurt Anya , I reminded myself. Restraint was the most painful muscle to train. You let it go for too long, and there was no finding it at the moments when you needed it most.
I’d spent years training my body to do what I wanted, and that included telling myself no sometimes. No to the things I wanted, no to the things that sounded fun.
And right now, I had to try to keep this simple and easy. The perfect business arrangement. Wasn’t that what she wanted? Wasn’t it what I needed?
I sucked in a breath and braced myself for her disappointment. “Yeah. We had to do it sometime, right? There’s no way we can be around our families without a little PDA.”
Her throat worked on a swallow. “Pretending,” she said slowly.
“Yeah.” My voice was rough when I said it, and I had to claw the frustration back, because the lie tasted like shit coming up. “I, uh, I should head to bed soon. I need to be at the facilities early to work out.”
I felt Anya’s eyes on me the entire time I walked away.