Chapter 17
CHAPTER 17
CALLUM
After years in the military, I couldn’t shake my habit of rising at o’dark thirty. With the lengthening days, it meant I had ample time for a run on the trails that snaked through the woods surrounding my house before I left for work. Usually my demons kept pace with the pounding beat of my feet, but the past few days it had been Parker occupying my thoughts. No matter how many miles I ran, I couldn’t escape the scent of her hair, the shape of her smile, or the warm feel of her pressed against me for that unexpected hug.
The woman had gotten under my skin, into my dreams, and I didn’t know what to do about it.
I didn’t exactly want to do anything about it. She was a damned sight better than the nightmares that so often plagued me. But given the direction of those dreams, I could hardly take a single look at her mouth without going hard. Given how often she smiled, that was a fucking problem. I was her boss . And I was apparently the only one she’d told most of the truth.
I wasn’t sure what to do with that, either. But it felt like that made us something more than boss-employee. So did my protective instincts. I’d have intervened for any employee I deemed needed help. That was simply the right thing to do. But the lengths to which I was prepared to go for Parker were something else entirely.
She’d become important to me. And not only because she’d made my life easier. I supposed that made us… friends of a sort. It had been longer than I cared to admit since I’d had any of those beyond the men I’d served with.
I was still brooding about it as I finished my coffee in the garden behind my house. The place didn’t look like much. I’d done the bare minimum, hacking back the overgrowth once winter hit, and otherwise I’d just put a single chair outside, so I could enjoy the view to the woods beyond. Most of my focus had been on getting Out of Bounds Scotland up and running. But signs of fresh growth were popping up here and there around the space. I should probably do something for all that, too, but gardening wasn’t exactly in my wheelhouse.
My mobile rang. I fished it out of my pocket, expecting to see Finn or Alex or Ewan on the display, but it was Parker’s name flashing on the screen. She’d never called me before, and when she’d texted, it was almost exclusively about work.
“Parker?”
“Hey, Callum. I’m sorry to bother you, but have you left for work yet?”
“No’ just yet.”
“Would you mind swinging by to pick me up and driving me to work?”
Parker always walked. Even in the rain, and that wasn’t a factor today. Though it was cold—we were having a bit of a wintery snap again—the sky above stretched an endless, uninterrupted blue. Our office was only a little over a mile from her flat. What was going on?
But I didn’t ask. She needed me, so I’d go.
“Give me twenty minutes.”
“Thanks.”
I made it in slightly less, parking at the kerb beside the law office. I thought about texting to say I was here, but there’d been something… not right in the tone of her voice when she’d called. Her usual brightness sounded too forced. So I got out and pushed the buzzer at the outside door. From inside, I heard the door upstairs open, then the syncopated rhythm of footsteps. A moment later, the bottom door inched open.
Falkor stood on the other side. Had the dog opened the door? As there was no sign of Parker, I could only assume he had. I grabbed the panel, and he woofed, bolting back up the stairs. With a sense of unease, I took them two at a time, stepping into her flat in time to see her struggling to get off the sofa. Her cheeks were paler than usual, and lines bracketed her mouth and eyes in a way I clearly recognized meant pain.
That sense of unease dialed up to straight up alarm. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
I closed the distance between us, stopping only when she shot me a fulminating glare.
“Nothing’s wrong. At least nothing that you can do anything about.”
Falkor pressed close, braced to take her weight as she used him to lever herself to her feet. She made it, but not without obvious effort.
“Parker?” Though I wanted to snap it, I kept my tone soft. “What’s going on?”
She sighed, and I remembered her reluctance to talk about whatever condition she’d been diagnosed with as a teenager.
“I have fibromyalgia. I’m having a bit of a flare, and my legs aren’t really cooperating terribly well at the moment. That’s why I need a ride. I can’t walk all the way to work today.”
“Should you be coming to work at all? Do you need a sick day?”
Her brows drew together into a remarkably effective scowl. “I’m still a functional human. I just need a ride.”
The whip of her usually sweet voice was so redolent of one of my own tantrums, I instantly understood. It was something else, being on the receiving end, seeing someone I cared about struggling with something, and knowing I couldn’t fix it. I didn’t know much about fibromyalgia, other than it had something to do with chronic pain. A million questions flitted through my mind, but I voiced none of them. And I wouldn’t, because she’d given me the same respect. At the end of the day, the whys and hows and whens didn’t really matter.
She wanted to protect her autonomy. I had to respect that, even though it took everything I had not to pick her up and tuck her into bed or wrap her in cotton wool. That was, no doubt, exactly what her parents had done for years. What she’d come here to escape.
“Okay. Just tell me what you need.”
“Just the ride. And if you could get the door.”
“Sure.” I moved over to hold it open and waited as she made her agonizing way slowly across the room, leaning heavily on the dog.
The stairs were even worse, and I finally understood why a single-level home had been on her list. But she made it to the bottom. And as I held open the door to my 4x4, I could tell that it had taken a toll. But I bit back anything I wanted to say. I recognized her kind of stubborn, and the need behind it.
Once she was secure and Falkor had leapt into the backseat, I climbed into the driver’s side. “Do you need anything? Breakfast? We could stop by the bakery or whatever on the way.”
“No, I’m fine. I had some breakfast before I left.”
“Okay.”
I drove the short distance to the office, parking around back. She was visibly relieved that Alex and Finn hadn’t arrived yet. And no wonder. She was moving like she was eighty as she made her way inside and to her desk. I didn’t think she’d have made it without Falkor, and I sent up a prayer of thanks to Saoirse MacGregor for her forethought.
As soon as she’d settled, stowing her purse and turning on her computer, I went to the beverage station and put on the kettle. I knew she habitually made a cup of tea when she came in. I could handle that for her. While I waited for the water to boil, I strode back to her desk.
“What do you need? What will help you get through today better?”
I could tell she didn’t want to say a thing. Fuck, it was impossible not to understand how frustrated everyone had gotten with me for the same reason.
At length, she sighed. “Is there a space heater in the office somewhere? Fast temperature shifts to cold make it worse.”
And she’d elected to move to Scotland? Shite.
“Aye. I’ll get it.”
By the time I came back with the unit, the kettle had popped. I poured boiling water over a tea bag and set a mental timer.
“What else?”
“I’m probably going to need y’all to come to me instead of me coming to you for things.”
“Done. Just ping us on the group chat.”
I left her to her morning routine, taking care of unlocking the door myself, and watering the plants that had crept into the lobby. By the time I finished, her tea was steeped. I added cream and sugar, as she liked it, and brought the mug over. The oversized green one I’d noted she favored.
Her eyes went suspiciously shiny as she accepted the drink. “Thank you.”
Because I was in no way prepared to handle tears, I made a quick getaway to the back. Alex and Finn had just arrived. I caught them just inside the door.
“Can either of you trade off with me for the cycling tour I’m booked for this morning?” A schedule change meant I could stay here all day, just in case she needed me.
“Aye, I can do that.” Finn was always ready to leave the office.
“Good. Also, you’re going to need to go to Parker today instead of waiting for her to come back to you. So pay attention to the group chat.”
Alex’s brow knit in concern. “Okay. But why?”
I thought of her reticence to even admit her condition to me. “That’s not my story to tell. Just do the thing.”
“Understood.”
I strode back out front. “Finn’s taking my cycling trip this morning.”
Parker shot me a long, indecipherable look over the rim of her tea before reaching for her mouse and updating the schedule without a word.
We all got on with our day. Every time she winced, my muscles tensed with the need to help, to protect. But I forced myself not to hover, because I knew she’d hate that. And because I understood that how I handled this today would likely set the tone for how much help she’d willingly take in the future. Probably the only reason I managed it was because Falkor absolutely had her back. He did a lot of ferrying of paperwork back and forth in the color-coded folders she’d bought when she first started. Thankfully, they were plastic, so they protected the paperwork inside from his slobber. If I hadn’t already known he was a service dog, this would’ve clued me in. If Alex noted the training, he didn’t comment on it. But he did go out and grab lunch for all of us from the bakery.
By the end of the day, Parker and I were alone, but for the dog. Finn had gone straight from his last appointment to home, and Alex was still out with his client. I threw the lock on the front door with some measure of relief. I’d been stressed all day worrying about Parker. But the lines of strain on her face had eased, and she seemed to be moving with less difficulty as she gathered up her things. Maybe the flare was passing?
There was no question I was taking her home. I didn’t ask what else she needed. I knew she’d hit her limit on how many times she could hear it before grinding her teeth. If she needed help, she’d ask for it. I was relieved to see her make it into the passenger seat on her own. Falkor leapt into the backseat again, as if he did this all the time. I slid behind the wheel, still wrestling with my urge to take care of her.
“Want me to pick up dinner on the way home?” I frowned at my own words because that made it sound like I expected to eat with her.
She rested her head back against the seat and flashed the first smile I’d seen on her all day. She had different smiles—the bright one she used with clients, the satisfied one when she solved a problem, and this softer, more vulnerable one that seemed reserved for moments like this. “That’s sweet, but no. I’m literally going in and going straight to bed. I’ll be better tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
We drove the short distance in silence. As soon as I was parked, I released my safety belt.
“You don’t have to walk me up. I can make it.”
It was my turn to level her with a look.
Parker huffed a laugh. “Okay.”
I saw her up, relieved that, though she seemed exhausted, her gait seemed less pained. Falkor stuck to her like Velcro. The pup had absolutely earned his kibble today.
“Is he good? Does he need a walk to do his business?”
“I’ve got him.” She tossed her purse onto the coffee table. “Thank you for today.”
“Anytime.” I paused. “Pick you up in the morning?”
She hesitated only a moment. “I’d appreciate that.”
“Okay. Then sleep well, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
Then, before I could give in to the urge to do something outrageous, like cuddle her until she fell asleep, I headed for the stairs.