Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Bowen
As soon as I’d gotten home from practice the next morning, I’d thrown myself into tidying the condo. Every nerve was on edge, and I needed something—anything—to keep my hands busy and my mind off the anticipation eating at me. The bathroom got the brunt of my nervous energy, scrubbed until every surface sparkled. I’d folded and refolded the throw on the sofa, as if the perfect crease could somehow calm me. I’d rearranged the cushions on the couch twice, making sure everything was just right, even though I knew Parker wouldn’t care about the small details. But I cared, because this wasn’t just any lunch. This was a date with Parker.
I’d given Parker’s name to the security guard downstairs, making sure she’d have no trouble getting in. But as the clock ticked closer to one, my sense of preparedness slipped through my fingers. I paced around my living room, the tightness in my shoulders worsening with each step. My stomach twisted into knots, and my palms dampened, a stark contrast to the dry, confident grip I’d had on my hockey stick just hours ago.
A sudden rap at the door shattered the tense silence, and my heart leaped into my throat. The knock reverberated through the condo, snapping me out of my anxious thoughts. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down, just like I would before a big game. I wiped my palms on my jeans, trying to shake off the jitters.
I swung open the door and my heart tripped over itself. Parker stood in the hall, a vision in a pink blouse that clung to her curves in all the right places. The stretchy fabric wrapped around her generous breasts and tied at the side, the V-neck teasing just enough to make my pulse race. I had to force myself to tear my eyes away from the deep cleavage it revealed. The blouse fell to her curvy hips, topping painted-on jeans that tapered to trim ankles and strappy heels. My groin tightened involuntarily.
“Hey, Bowen.” She greeted me with that smile—the one that made my knees weak and my thoughts scatter.
“Hi, Parker.” It came out lower and rougher than I intended. Her presence did something foreign to me, something I couldn’t quite control.
She stepped into the condo, her heels clicking softly on the hardwood floor, and I closed the door behind her, trying to ignore the way my heart hammered against my ribs. “Come in.” I gestured down the hall toward the living room.
When we reached the room, she stopped dead just inside. “Wow, this view is amazing!” she said with genuine awe. Parker walked to the wall of windows lining the living and dining rooms, obviously appreciating the sweeping panorama of the valley and mountains.
“Want to go out on the balcony? I’ll show you around,” I said, trying to keep my tone casual. I strode to the glass door in the dining nook and opened it for her, a mix of pride and vulnerability in my chest. This was my space, my sanctuary, and now I was sharing it with her. What would she think?
She hung her little purse on the back of a chair. When she passed by, her hair fluttered in the gentle breeze and a delicate floral scent—her shampoo?—carried to me. Whatever it was, it made my head spin, and I inhaled deeply, trying to commit the scent to memory.
Parker approached the railing gingerly, her grip tightening until her knuckles turned bone white. She looked down from my penthouse condo to the ground below; her posture tensed and she inhaled sharply. She shuddered. Without thinking, I hurried to her side and wrapped my arm around her soft waist, pulling her close. “I’ve got you,” I reassured her.
She blew out a breath. “Wha-what am I looking at?” she asked. I could hear a tremble of trepidation, but also a hint of curiosity.
She sank into my side, and I couldn’t help but selfishly appreciate her fear of heights. It gave me a reason to hold her close, to feel her warmth against me. I pointed toward the east, keeping a firm hold on her. “The foothills of the Diablo Range,” I said, then swept my arm to encompass the valley. “The lights of the city sparkle at night—you’ll have to come over to see them sometime.” I wanted her to know that I wasn’t just thinking about today. I was already thinking about the next time, and the time after that.
“I’d like that,” she replied with more strength. And did I detect a touch of enthusiasm?
I pointed to the tree-covered mountains off to the right. “Those are the Santa Cruz Mountains.”
“I haven’t been to the mountains to see the redwoods. Or over the mountains to the beach at Santa Cruz,” she said wistfully, her eyes reflecting her longing.
I gave her a light squeeze. “We’ll do both this summer, after the Blazers win the Stanley Cup.”
She turned her head to look at me and grinned, a twinkle in her eye. “Awfully sure about us and the Cup, aren’t you?”
I grunted, trying to mask the warmth that her words brought to my chest. “Just stating the facts.” But the truth was, Parker captivated me like no other woman ever had. She brought out a side of me I barely recognized. Who was this man who could hold a conversation with a beautiful woman, who could imagine a future with her? I’d never met him before.
She swung her head back to the view. “That’s a pretty park across the street.”
“It is. I sometimes jog along the path.”
Her eyes lit up as she glanced at me. “As long as we’re talking about things to do, maybe we can have a picnic someday.”
My stomach lifted. Now she was talking about seeing each other again. “That’d be great.”
She wrapped her arm around my waist, and for a moment, we stood there in silence, taking in the view together. I hesitated, then took a chance and nuzzled her silky, sweet-smelling hair with my cheek. She sighed contentedly, and satisfaction coursed through me. I hadn’t overstepped. I wasn’t one for mushy crap, but with Parker, it felt right. Natural.
We stayed like that for a while, arm in arm, until my stomach betrayed me with a loud growl. The tips of my ears heated. The morning’s practice had been grueling, and I needed to refuel, but I didn’t want to break the moment.
Parker snickered, her laughter light. She patted my stomach. “Lunch?”
I reluctantly let her go, pulled out my phone, and scrolled to the delivery app. “I thought we’d try Sonoma Farms Organic.” Subway sandwiches wouldn’t cut it for our date, and Chase had recommended the restaurant. I trusted his taste.
“Ooh! I’ve heard good things about their artisan salads.”
We scrolled through the menu together, her finger hovering over the screen as she debated what to order. She finally settled on a Modern Caesar salad, and I added the chicken pesto caprese sandwich and a farmer’s market salad to the cart. A half-dozen assorted cookies completed the order. “Thirty minutes. Want to sit outside or inside?”
“Outside. It’s a nice day, and I’ve gotten used to the height.” She chose one of the cushioned patio chairs and sat, her posture more relaxed than when we first walked onto the balcony.
I settled into the chair beside her and searched for a topic of conversation now that we’d discussed the view. What the hell did people talk about on dates like this? “Where are you from?” I asked, trying to keep it easy and casual.
A flicker of something—was it unease?—crossed her face. “Um…back east.”
I cocked my head, sensing her hesitation. Why wasn’t she being more specific? “You have a slight New England accent. Are you from there?”
“Around there,” she replied, her voice tight, almost guarded.
Something in her tone set off alarm bells in my mind. Why was the normally outgoing, talkative woman so cagey? And why was she being so vague about something as simple as where she was from? I didn’t believe for a minute that her last name was really Smith. Who was she? And why was she misleading me?
I ground my teeth. I detested liars. My father and his lying, cheating ways had seen to that. Leaving my mother and me to fend for ourselves for months on end, he’d call and promise to be home for Christmas only to crush us when he didn’t show.
I should have shown Parker the door before the food even arrived. But as she turned and gazed at me, I saw no malice in her eyes. Only worry as she bit her bottom lip. And was that a tinge of fear?
Was there ever a good reason to lie? I hadn’t thought so, but her anxiety made me wonder. I tilted my head and held her gaze, trying to read what she wasn’t saying. She seemed to plead with me to understand. Understand what? I didn’t know.
I broke eye contact and sighed. I gave her the benefit of the doubt and shut down the voice within me that shouted I was making a mistake.
After all, there were topics I didn’t want to talk about, either. My childhood was a sore subject, as was my mother having to work two jobs to support me and my hockey aspirations.
Besides, who was I to talk? I didn’t know what a good relationship looked like—my parents were a piss-poor example. I was probably a bad bet myself.
I wasn’t about to dredge up my wounds and insecurities. Maybe Parker had her own scars, ones she wasn’t ready to reveal. So, I let the moment be. For now.
“—telekinesis or telepathy?”
I turned away from my spiraling thoughts and frowned, trying to catch up. “What?”
Her worried expression had morphed into a small, teasing smile that made the doubt in my chest loosen just a fraction. “We’re playing ‘Would You Rather?’” she said, her tone light but with a hint of challenge.
I scowled, though it was more out of confusion than actual annoyance. “Did I agree to that?”
Her grin widened, eyes sparkling with mischief. “No, but we’ll get to know each other better. So, would you rather move things with your mind or read people’s thoughts? Why?”
I didn’t even have to think about the answer to that question. “Read people’s thoughts. That way, I can predict an opponent’s move.”
Parker pretended to shiver, her mock horror making the corners of my mouth twitch upward despite myself. “No way. I don’t want to know what people think of me. I’d rather have telekinesis.”
“I don’t give a fuck what other people think of me.” Except for Parker. For the first time, I wanted to make a good impression on someone.
She cocked her head, her expression softening into something almost wistful. “Must be nice,” she said quietly, as if she were revealing more than she intended. Then, with a clap of her hands, she switched gears, her energy returning. “Your turn.”
“What?”
“Ask a question.” Her eyes danced with anticipation.
Stalling, I peeked at my phone. “The food is here.”
“Uh-uh-uh.” She wagged a finger at me. “Don’t think you’re getting out of it that easily.”
Well, shit. There was no escaping. But as much as I wanted to steer clear of the game, there was something disarming about the way she insisted, drawing me out of my shell.
We moved inside, and I retrieved the bag from the hallway, the heat from my sandwich bleeding through the paper.
“Can I get the drinks?” Her offer was easy, as if she felt at home.
“Thanks,” I managed, rougher than I’d meant. “They’re in the fridge.”
She pulled open the refrigerator with a soft whoosh and leaned in, scanning the shelves. “What do you want?” she asked, glancing back at me over her shoulder, her eyes meeting mine for just a second before flicking away. It was quick, but enough to make my pulse trip.
I swallowed hard. “Bottle of water,” I said, sounding steadier than I felt.
She retrieved two bottles and returned to the table, where I was setting out the food. I arranged everything neatly, our places next to each other. The savory aroma of my toasted sandwich made my mouth water, and I couldn’t help but glance at her as I withdrew the rest of the lunch from the bag. There was something about sharing a meal with her that felt… intimate, like we were crossing into new territory. Remembering my manners, I pulled out her chair for her. When I settled into mine, our thighs brushed, and she didn’t move away. The warmth of her leg seeped into me, sending a wave of pleasure through my veins.
I unwrapped my sandwich and took a bite. The tangy flavor of balsamic dressing burst on my tongue, but even that didn’t fully distract me from the presence of the woman beside me. Parker took a bite of her salad, and a soft, sensual moan escaped her throat. My mind went straight to how she’d sound if I were making her come.
My jeans became uncomfortably tight, and I shifted in my seat, trying to focus on anything but the images flooding my brain.
She dipped her fork into her lettuce, her eyes meeting mine with a challenge. “So, what’s your question?”
I sighed, my hopes that she’d forgotten about the game dashed. But maybe it was better than the small talk I usually sucked at. “Would you rather…” I searched my mind for a topic. “Be the star player on a losing team, or warm the bench on a championship team?”
Thoughtful, she swallowed before answering. “I wouldn’t have to be the star, but I’d rather play than warm the bench.”
I nodded, understanding her completely. “I’d rather play the game I loved. Otherwise, what’s the point?”
“Exactly! So, we agree on that one. My turn.” She took a bite and chewed, her face scrunched up in thought. “Would you rather stay inside during a snow day or build a fort?”
I speared a forkful of salad, thinking. “I’d rather play hockey on a frozen pond.”
She chuckled, light and infectious. “That wasn’t a choice.”
I raised an eyebrow, my lip threatening to twitch. “But that’s what I’d do. What about you?”
She considered for a moment, her eyes sparkling with the playfulness I was beginning to crave. “Well…if we’re going off-script, then a snowball fight would be fun. As long as there was hot chocolate and a roaring fire at the end.”
“Would you rather have hot chocolate with marshmallows or without?” It wasn’t hot chocolate season, but it paid to be prepared. Because I was determined that we would still be together when winter arrived.
“Look at you, coming up with a question without being asked!” she teased, her eyes sparkling. “Definitely with fresh mini-marshmallows. Not the dry ones that come in the instant hot cocoa packet.”
Good to know . I made a mental note, storing away this piece of information for the future. “I’d rather have coffee,” I grumbled.
“There you go again, answering the question incorrectly,” she said with warmth and affection.
We finished eating our sandwiches while trading questions, and I had to admit—if only to myself—I enjoyed the game. But then, I enjoyed anything I did with Parker. There was an ease between us, a natural rhythm that I hadn’t experienced with anyone else. It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.
I reached for a lemon cheesecake cookie, pausing as I considered my next question. “Would you rather live in a small cabin in the woods or a mansion in the city?”
The smile on her face faltered, and the color drained from her cheeks. What had I said? Did she have something against cities? Cities back east? Had something happened that made her feel unsafe?
She audibly swallowed. “A small cabin in the woods.” Her voice was tiny, unlike the Parker I was getting to know.
Her tone made my chest tighten. I didn’t know what memory or fear had surfaced for her, but I wanted to make it better, to bring her back to the playful mood we’d shared moments ago. “I’ll build a cabin next to yours.” Though the gesture felt strange, I winked, hoping to lighten the mood.
She grabbed the life preserver I’d thrown and grinned. “I’d like that, neighbor.”
Oh, we’d be more than neighbors. The thought came unbidden, but I didn’t push it away.
“Would you rather…go on a picnic with me on Friday, or watch a movie at my apartment? I work the evening shift, but I’m free earlier in the day.” She coyly bit her bottom lip, hope in her eyes.
I sucked in a breath, my heart racing at the prospect. “You’re asking me on a date?” The words came out rougher than I intended.
A blush colored her cheeks, and she nodded, her nervousness showing as she nibbled on a chocolate chunk cookie.
“How about both? One o’clock on Friday for the movie and Saturday for the picnic?”
Her lips spread in a wide smile that lit up her entire face. “Good answer. I’ll text you my address, and we’ll do pizza and a movie.”
My chest lightened, and I mentally shook my head. Who was this sap I’d become around Parker?
She checked her watch, and her smile faltered again. “Oh. I have to go. I picked up some of Robin’s hours to make up for last night.”
My stomach sank that our time was ending, but I held onto the fact that there would be a next time. We threw away our trash and packed up the leftover cookies, moving in sync like we’d done this a hundred times before. She grabbed her purse, and I followed her to the door, not ready to let her go just yet.
She turned toward me, tilted her head up, and captured my gaze with eyes the color of the Caribbean Sea. “I had a fun time,” she said softly but full of sincerity.
“So did I.” My heart pounded. I hesitated, then took a step closer, the question bubbling up before I could stop it. “Would you rather leave...” I dropped my volume, the next words tumbling out just above a growl. “Or kiss me?”
Her breath hitched and her eyes darkened. “Kiss you,” she whispered.
“Good answer.” I repeated her words from earlier in a low rumble as I closed the distance between us. I placed my hands on her soft waist, feeling the warmth of her body seep into mine. I was a big man, and I loved her height and size—like she was made for me. I didn’t have to lower my head far to brush my lips against her supple mouth. She gasped. Despite the fire that roared to life inside me, I kept the kiss light—gentle—as she clutched my shoulders. I savored the moment, her pliable lips, the way she responded to me. I wanted more, but I would take things slowly. If I had my way, there was no need to rush.
We were only beginning.