17. Preview - Love in Chaos
Love in Chaos
Rica pried open her eyes, which was not a simple task, since she’d left her mascara on overnight. She blinked several times. The sun came through the window at a weird angle. That was her first clue that all was not well. She stretched her arm to the side and connected with the wall. Hard. That never happened at home. Her second clue. Her nose twitched. Umm, bacon and coffee . No one ever cooked her breakfast. Clue number three.
She lifted up the scratchy navy sheet. Panties, yes. Bra, no. But then she remembered that her bridesmaid’s dress was lined and slightly padded, so she’d gone without a bra. Yesterday she’d been in Emily Potter’s—now Mrs. Wyatt—and Jackson’s wedding. Jackson Hart Wyatt was the CEO of Hart Hotels and Chance Resorts. Emily had been his executive assistant until her recent promotion to Director of Guest Experience. Emily joked it was a fancy title for quality control—making sure each guest had a positive and memorable stay at every one of their sites, including the recently acquired Chance Resort locations.
Rica sat up and saw her dress neatly draped over a chair. She also saw the indented pillow next to hers. She scrubbed her hands over her face, willing her brain to remember something, anything.
She looked around the cramped bedroom. Her dress was in one corner, men’s running shoes tossed in another. The small closet was partially ajar, and there were photos tacked on to the wall. Rica’s eyes jerked back to the photos. She stood up on shaky legs and wrapped the sheet around herself before moving across the room. She studied the photos and recognized a few of the people. Then she noticed the camera bag tucked between the closet and a dresser. I’m on Parker’s houseboat.
Rica chanced a glance in the mirror and cringed. Yep, full wedding makeup smeared all over her face. The foundation smears and mascara smudges created a camo effect over her light olive completion. She plucked off a false eyelash that clung to her temple. Her dark hair looked like an animal’s nest, and she raked her hand through it, hoping to chase away any small animals. But all she found were the many hairpins the stylist had used yesterday to secure her thick, curly locks. Her hair had always had a mind of its own.
She surveyed the room again and tightened the bed sheet. Why can’t I remember? It would be cosmically wrong for her to have finally had sex with Parker and not remember it. They had flirted with each other whenever Parker was in Haven, but it had never amounted to anything. Not a date and certainly not a kiss.
Parker was a journalist with Issues and News . He traveled the globe covering world events and human-interest stories. Basically, he was a nomad, and Rica wanted roots. Even though she was more than interested in him, she knew a romantic involvement with Parker would be a bad investment, and Rica avoided those. Unless last night her heart, or other body parts south, had been calling the shots and not her brain.
Her nose twitched again, and her stomach growled. She clutched the sheet over her full breasts with one hand and lifted the bottom up with the other so she could walk. The last thing she needed was to fall while wearing only a sheet. She squared her shoulders and followed her nose out of the room and right into the galley kitchen.
It was small, a table on one side and the refrigerator, a two-burner stove, and a sink on the other. Parker stood at the stove with his back to her. Rica couldn’t help but notice how his skimpy running shorts fit snugly across his backside. His legs were well defined and looked powerful. His slightly damp T-shirt outlined his lean back and chiseled shoulders.
Rica’s heart sank. Evidently, the sex was so bad it had driven him to go for a run instead of having another romp with her. Maybe it’s a good thing I don’t remember. Rica cleared her throat. She didn’t want to startle him. One look at her and he’d most likely scream.
Parker didn’t scream when he turned his head, but he did look her over slowly from her rat’s nest to her toes. Rica shivered but it wasn’t from cold. “Coffee?” he asked in his deep voice. He gestured for her to have a seat at the small corner table. Rica nodded her head and attempted to gracefully slide onto the bench. Parker set two mugs on the table and nudged the one with cream toward her. “Are you hungry? I have bacon and I was just going to start on the eggs.”
“Coffee for now, thanks.” She gave him a tight smile. Rica couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this awkward. Parker reached behind him, turned off the stove, and slid onto the bench across from her.
“How are you feeling?”
“Pretty confused.” And embarrassed , she added to herself.
“And physically?” he asked. Rica’s stomach growled.
“I guess I’m hungry,” she admitted. She looked at him and he gave her a quick smile.
“One of the advantages of living on a houseboat is that everything is very close.” Parker reached to the countertop, grabbed the plate of bacon, and set it down on the table. “Will this do, or would you like some eggs or toast with it?”
“Who needs eggs and toast when there’s bacon and coffee?” Rica helped herself to a piece of bacon and took an eager bite.
“My thoughts, exactly.” He looked at her over his coffee mug. “So other than hungry, anything else?”
“A shower would be nice, but I can get that at home.” Parker slid out of his seat and stood behind her.
“Turn your head and look out the window,” he said. Rica complied. “I tried to get these out last night, but you weren’t very cooperative.” Her posture stiffened. She wasn’t sure if it was at the mention of “last night” or in reaction to his fingers sliding through her hair. Parker built a small pile of hair pins on the table as Rica focused on chewing and drinking. And breathing. Anything to keep her distracted from the feel of him. It didn’t work.
Rica was puzzled. If they’d been intimate, why did this feel so new? The words slipped past her full lips before she could stop them. “Parker, what happened last night?”
His hands stilled. “What do you remember?” he asked as he gently tilted her head down to reach the underside pins.
“Not much. And there are holes. I remember Miller’s touching toast, and Emily and Jackson’s first dance as husband and wife. Krista dragging Croix onto the dance floor for the chicken dance. Dancing a bunch of fast songs with the girls, and dancing with Jackson’s friend.”
“Jordan?”
“Yes, that was his name. And then I didn’t feel good. He thought some fresh air would help.” Rica lifted her mug only to find it empty. Parker refilled it.
“What happened next?” Parker asked as he pushed the cream toward her. Rica added a generous pour and studied the swirls in her mug, hoping to find an answer to his question. Parker’s knee bumped hers as he slid back onto the opposite bench. He held her hands and gently asked again, “Rica, what happened next?”
Rica wasn’t sure which was more galvanizing, the touch of his hands or the gentle concern in his voice. “He was helping me outside and then there was yelling, I think. It’s a blank until I woke up this morning.”
“I wouldn’t say we were yelling. More like talking loudly and convincingly.”
“Parker, I’m a little freaked out right now, and while I know you like nothing better than to spin a great story, I need to know what happened. Now.” Rica pulled her hands back and glared at him.
“We’d been keeping an eye on Jordan all night, and when we saw you leave with him, we followed. The two of you were at the elevator bank by the time we caught up.”
“No. That can’t be right.” Rica shook her head and tucked the sheet around her more securely. “He said we were going outside for some fresh air.”
Parker continued as though Rica hadn’t spoken. “We got you away from him, and I brought you back here since you didn’t have your purse on you. Croix went back to the party. Krista found your purse and should be here any minute.”
“And then what happened?”
“I brought you back here, unzipped your dress, and didn’t go into the bedroom until you said I could.”
“So, we didn’t sleep together?”
“Oh, no, we slept together. But I think the question you really want to ask is whether we had sex and the answer to that is no.” Rica nodded her head in understanding and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying. She never cried, but right now, it was all she wanted to do.
“I’m trying to get my head around all of this. It’s a lot to take in. Thank you,” she said quietly.
“You’re welcome.” Parker smiled, and it was easy to see the relief on his face. Rica hadn’t considered how difficult this must have been for him. “Still no on the toast?” he asked.
“I’m good, but I wouldn’t say no to a bit more coffee.”
“Better not. You don’t want to go to the bathroom until we get to the hospital.” Parker stood up and cleared away her mug.
“Why are we going to the hospital?”
“So you can be tested.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know for what. That’s why we’re going to the hospital,” he said. Rica clutched her head but then felt the sheet slip. She caught it between her breasts.
“I’m not going to the hospital.” Rica stood up and tried to match her medium height to his, even though he was a good head taller.
“Rica, someone slipped you something last night. Don’t you want to know?”
“No one slipped me anything. I’m not stupid, Parker. The only drinks I had were the ones I got myself. And, unfortunately, they were mostly on an empty stomach. Why were you watching Jordan?”
“He’d said some stupid stuff at the bachelor’s weekend in Milwaukee, and we decided it would be best to keep an eye on him. I’m glad we did.”
“I’m glad you did, too, but I’m not going to the hospital.”
“If I’d known you were going to be this unreasonable, I would have taken you last night when you were incapacitated,” he muttered.
“Unreasonable?” Rica’s voice rose. “Listen—“
“Hello? I’m here.” Krista stuck her head through the open door. “You owe me one, Parker. Sounds like I just saved you from a tongue lashing.” She handed Rica her purse. “If you don’t have a comb, I do.” Krista smirked, and Rica resisted the urge to stick her tongue out as she dug through her bag. She pulled out a wide-tooth comb and held it up victoriously before sitting down and attacking the mess. It would have been easier to do with both hands, but she didn’t want to risk the sheet slipping again. Every time it did, she noticed how Parker’s hazel eyes darkened.
“I’m going to go take a shower. See if you can talk some sense into her,” Parker said to Krista as he set the dirty dishes in the miniscule sink.
“About going to the hospital for testing?” Krista asked.
“Yes. How’d you know?” Rica asked.
“I heard the two of you loudly discussing it as I came down the dock. Several of your neighbors waved at me, so the cat’s out of the bag. Sorry, Rica.” She put a comforting hand on Rica’s shoulder. Rica felt the heat climb up her face and her stomach turn. It was bad enough her friends were discussing it, but now her stupidity would be fodder for strangers.
“And sorry Parker, but I agree with Rica. It sounds like she drank too much too quickly. You and Croix rescued her from a potentially bad situation, that’s all that matters.” Krista paused and looked between the two of them. “While I’d love to stay and watch you two battle this out, I need to get back to Hart Hotel to make sure they set everything up for Emily and Jackson’s gift opening.”
“Go.” Parker made a shooing motion with his hands. “Rica wins.” He sounded resigned. Rica guessed Parker wasn’t used to losing an argument.
“Speaking of winning, I heard you left Jordan with a souvenir. How’s your hand?” Krista asked. Parker flexed the fingers on his right hand. She saw the slight bruising.
“Never better.”
“Glad to hear it. Okay, I’m off. I’ll see you both soon.” Krista gave them each a quick hug and left.
“So, I’m going to take a quick shower and then I’ll take you home so you can change. And since I’m not taking you to the hospital, I’m going to keep my eyes on you during the luncheon and gift opening.”
“Parker, I was stupid once, it won’t happen again. I don’t need a babysitter.” Rica huffed.
“Rica, consider this a compromise, since I’m not hauling you to the ER. I promise I won’t cramp your style. You can ooh and aah to your heart’s desire at all the gifts.”
“Funny guy.”
“I’m being serious.”
“Fine,” she grumbled.
“Great. Now before I take my shower, do you want to slip into your dress, and I’ll zip it up or do you want to borrow a T-shirt and some shorts?” Rica didn’t hesitate.
“Not the dress. I’d like to avoid the walk of shame.”
Parker gave what sounded like an exasperated sigh. “Rica, you have nothing to be ashamed of. You’re not the only one who’s ever drank too much at a wedding reception.”
Rica stood up and stepped in front of Parker. She leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
Parker studied her and then stepped back. “I’ll put the clothes on the bed, and you can change while I shower.”
Rica heard the shower turn on and cautiously peered around the bedroom door before entering. She slipped the T-shirt over her head and let her bed sheet dress fall to the floor. The T-shirt was long on her, which she appreciated, because it covered up the snug fit of his shorts. She gathered her dress and heels and placed them on the kitchen table.
Rica wandered to the back of the boat, the only other space she hadn’t been in. Patio doors led out to a rear deck. A set of sawhorses occupied one corner and a pile of lumber sat next to it. Various projects were in different stages of completion. The bookcases and media center had been built-in and stained but were awaiting their shelves. The drywall at the rear had been taped and mudded but not sanded.
Rica climbed the tight circular staircase tucked into the corner. It led to a small loft just big enough for two chairs and a small table. The breeze through the open windows ruffled her hair.
It looked like it was going to be another beautiful day. Emily and Jackson had been blessed with perfect Labor Day weekend weather for all their wedding festivities, including today’s gift opening and luncheon for family, wedding attendants, and out-of-town guests. Rica felt a flush as she remembered how handsome Parker had looked in his tuxedo. All of the groomsmen had looked dashing, but Parker was the only one who made her heart beat faster.
What kind of woman drinks too much too quickly on an empty stomach at her friends’ wedding? Rica shook her head in disgust and slumped into one of the deck chairs. The kind of woman who hasn’t been sleeping or eating well because she’s worried about her new business venture. That’s who, she retorted. Rica sighed. She was more nervous than worried. She had no doubt Fortress Advisers would be a success.
The new business was Miller Lynch’s idea. He’d been unhappy at Anderson, Anderson, and Swanson and couldn’t see himself there as a partner. Miller’s childhood friend, Croix Adams, had also been unhappy at the CPA firm he worked for. Miller invited Croix to join him in forming a new business and the two men thought Rica, with her financial planning services, would make a great addition to the team. Legal, accounting, and financial planning all under one roof. Rica knew it would work, but it was happening so quickly. Rica liked months to plan and evaluate decisions, not a few weeks!
But she was okay. The business would be fine and nothing bad had happened last night. She took a breath and let go of some of the tension. For the first time all morning, she felt like herself. Even if she had been stupid last night. Parker’s voice calling for her interrupted her mental bullying.
“Coming,” Rica yelled back at him. She turned and twisted back down the stairs into the awaiting mess below.
Parker juggled his car keys from one hand to the next. “Ready?”
“Yes.” Rica walked past him, grabbed her dress and shoes, and made her way out to the dock. She studied the other boats moored nearby while he locked the door. She didn’t see anyone out, so maybe Krista was wrong, and no one had heard their argument. “So, you live on a boat, tied to a dock, and you lock your door? Does that really help? I mean all anyone would have to do is untie it and float down the Poplar River. Why bother locking?” Rica knew it was an inane argument, but she needed to fill the silence.
“It’s the illusion of security, and I hope it would slow someone down enough that a neighbor could intervene.”
“They’d do that?”
“Sure, it’s a great community down here. There are about twenty houseboats in the height of summer and about ten during the winter months. We keep an eye on each other, just like regular neighbors.”
“Oh.” Rica didn’t know what else to say. She should keep her mouth shut. It would be better to listen to her muddled thoughts than to open her mouth and sound stupid. Parker must think she’s a total fool for landing in this mess, and now she’d insulted his living arrangements.
Parker stopped at a green, older-model Subaru Outback. The exterior was well maintained, other than the dead bugs on the grill and the pine sap on the hood, but the inside was a mess. There were tools everywhere, and it was littered with takeout containers. Parker opened the passenger door for her. Rica slipped into the seat, trying not to step on the clutter. She settled her dress and shoes on her lap. She didn’t want to risk putting them on the back seat.
Parker looked at her and chuckled softly. He must have seen the discomfort on her face. “Don’t worry. It’s a bit messy but nothing is living in here, I promise.”
“A bit?” She looked around and shook her head. Parker looked around, too.
“Hmm, it usually isn’t this bad,” he said, more to himself than to her. “I’ve been working for Handi Andi, and my tools go with me to the job site. And since I’m also working on finishing the houseboat, I’ve been surviving on takeout, unfortunately.”
“You don’t like takeout? I’m lost without it, since I don’t like to cook.”
“That’s too bad. I enjoy cooking and can’t wait for things to slow down a bit.”
“Maybe when things slow down a bit, you’ll have time to clean, too.”
Parker laughed at her not-so-subtle jab. “I doubt it. Believe it or not, I don’t see the mess unless someone points it out to me. Drove my parents batty when I was growing up.” He turned the key, and the car sprang to life.
Rica sniffed and noticed the air freshener clipped on the vent. “Oh, my gosh! Lemons. I remember lemons from last night. They were in the pretty glass containers on the bar.” Rica looked at Parker and smiled.
“That’s great! Anything else?” he asked as he turned out of the marina and headed toward Rica’s bungalow. Rica inhaled deeply and closed her eyes.
“Oh, no,” Rica moaned, as the heat crawled up her neck. While she blushed often, her light olive complexion hid it well. “You carried me fireman-style. You had your hand on my butt!” Possessively, if she remembered correctly, but that could be wishful thinking.
“You gave me no choice. You sure were a squirmer.”
“I was drunk and upside down. Anyone would have squirmed.”
“Luckily, you’d calmed down by the time we reached the car. It was a little tricky balancing you and clearing off the seat. I don’t think I would have been able to pull it off if it hadn’t been for all the weighted squats at the gym.” Parker said this matter-of-factly, but Rica saw the corner of his mouth twitch.
“Are you calling me fat?” she asked. Parker stopped at the stoplight and turned his head toward her. She couldn’t see his eyes behind his aviator sunglasses, but she felt his assessment. A car honked and Parker shifted his focus back to driving. He looked both ways before proceeding through the intersection.
“No, Rica. I’d say you’re just about perfect.”
“I wasn’t looking for a compliment.” Rica crossed her arms in front of her.
“I know. It also looks like you don’t accept them very well, either.”
“I don’t, and it feels like I’ve been under the microscope since I woke up. I’m not handling it as well as I’d like to.” Parker didn’t say anything. Probably proof that he agreed with her. Time to shift the focus. “Your haircut surprised me. I like it.” Parker dragged his hand through his short, dark-blond hair.
“Thanks. It will take some getting used to, but I’m not sure I’ll keep it.”
“Why’s that?”
“Long hair is low maintenance and cheap. And when my hair is short, it tends to get bushy.”
“So, why did you decide to cut it?”
“I didn’t. The decision was forced on me. Gus showed up at my house bright and early yesterday. He said Jackson’s grandma had booked an appointment for me at Ruthie’s Retreat. The only buns she wanted to see would be on the bridesmaids’ heads, not mine. I was the one forced into this, but Gus complained the whole way there. Didn’t understand why he had to take me to the salon instead of his barber, yadda, yadda, yadda.”
“Poor, Gus.” Ruthie liked Fortress Adviser’s landlord and could easily picture his discomfort.
“Poor Gus? More like poor me.” Parker shook his head. “Woman, your compassion is misplaced.”
“I’m sorry. Please continue with your tragedy.” Rica tried to look remorseful.
“So, we get there, and Gus loudly tells the stylist I need a manly cut, not one of those sissy cuts, like you see on the tourists. I’m lucky that I didn’t end up with a flat-top.” Parker paused as he focused on parallel parking in front of her bungalow. “And when I was done, I had to wait for him to finish the fancy coffee the receptionist had made for him.”
“Well, I don’t have fancy coffee for you, but you’re welcome to anything you can find in my fridge,” Rica said as she unlocked her front door. “I’m going to take a quick shower. Make yourself comfortable.” Rica hurried up the stairs.
She shucked off Parker’s loaner clothes, stepped under the shower’s spray, and broke into tears. She’d heard Parker turn on the television and between that and the water, she was pretty sure he wouldn’t hear her talking to herself, trying to sort through everything from the night before. Rica applied a deep conditioner, hoping it would detangle her hair and wishing it could detangle her emotions, too.
As embarrassed as she was by her behavior, not remembering much of the evening was far worse. Rica was always in control, but there was no control if she couldn’t remember.
What if what’s-his-face hadn’t been helping her? What if Parker and Croix hadn’t found her? She shivered and moved the knob further into the red. Rica scrubbed her face and then rinsed it under the much-too-hot water. She worked her fingers through her hair. Most of the knots were out. At least her hair was cooperating. She took one more deep breath and released it slowly. I’m OKAY, nothing bad happened , she repeated to herself as she toweled off and slathered on moisturizer.
Rica glanced at the clock on the bathroom shelf. Thank goodness she’d ironed her dress yesterday. She slipped the sleeveless orange shift dress over her head. It was a simple cut with floral embroidery along the boatneck and sleeve openings. Her trusty wedge sandals completed the look.