18. Parker
Parker
I grab my stethoscope and head down to the parking lot, where tents are already going up like someone cast a spell. Tables are loaded with coolers, clipboards, hospital swag, and enough snack bars to fuel a marathon.
“Morning, Dr. Matthews,” one of the nurses calls out as she drops a box of gloves off at the Blood Mobile.
“Hey, Robin,” I nod. “Thanks for helping with the setup.”
She grins. “You bribed me with matching t-shirts and smoothie vouchers. I’m weak.”
I laugh, stepping over a coil of extension cords. “Wait till you see what I roped Adair into.”
Her brows lift. “Ooh. She’s volunteering?”
“Let’s call it a surprise guest appearance,” I say, nodding toward the tent near the smoothie truck, the best foot traffic spot on-site. The folding table I reserved for Citrine is already set up with boxes of lotions, hair products, and fresh juices, waiting for Adair’s signature display.
Another nurse calls out from across the lot. “This is the wellness booth you mentioned? ”
“It’s the one,” I say, picturing Adair’s expression. “Figured it’d be good exposure for her product line. I pulled a few strings and got her the prime location, tons of community crossover.”
“You’re cutting it close, Matthews.”
“Me? Never,” I grin, jogging up. “Have you seen the crowd yet?”
She scans the lot. “It’s filling up fast. You think your wife’s gonna thank you for tossing her into this blind?”
The fact that I'm getting more accustomed to calling her and others referring to her as my wife is both alarming and comforting.
I shrug. “Nope. She hates surprises. But she’ll be smiling by the end of it.”
She leans in, lowering her voice. “By the way, that receptionist your dad was flirting with last week asked about him again.”
I groan. “Linda, you have to keep her away from him. Seriously. He’s a dirty old man. You can tell her I said that.”
Linda laughs, a deep, hearty sound that echoes through the hallway. “Your dad’s a looker. What can I say? But don’t worry, I told her he’s off-limits.”
“Good,” I say, straightening up. “The last thing we need is Leeland wreaking havoc in Palm Beach.”
As I make my way around the lot, I catch sight of Adair’s car pulling in. Even from a distance, she stands out. Her energy is vibrant against the backdrop of tents and bustling volunteers.
She steps out of her car, and my heart does this ridiculous flip. She’s wearing a simple sundress, her hair pulled back into a ponytail, and she looks... radiant.
I don’t even think about it. Before I know it, I’m walking toward her, and when we meet in the middle, I lean in and kiss her. It’s meant to be quick, casual, but the warmth of her lips lingers longer than I intend.
When I pull back, she’s staring at me like I’ve grown a second head.
“You trying to win an Oscar for Best Public Display?” She laughs, but her eyes are wide like I flash-mob proposed. "Is that what this was? Is the estate guy here or something?"
From behind us, I hear a chorus of laughter and teasing whistles from the nearby nursing staff.
“Dr. Matthews, you're making the rest of us jealous,” Linda calls out, grinning like she lives for this kind of gossip.
“The nurses love to give me a hard time,” I say to Adair, keeping my arm around her as we walk. The snickering ahead of us gets louder. "No, he's not. I was excited to show you something. Sorry, I got carried away."
She gives me a side-eye and a smirk. “I guess I can suffer through your kisses,” she teases. “But next time, maybe warn me before you ambush me in front of your coworkers?”
“Can't make any promises, but I'll work on it.”
She rolls her eyes, full drama, but her smile gives her away that she's not mad about it.
“I completely forgot this was your big carnival-slash-blood-drive day,” she says, scanning the tents ahead. “So what was the rush to get me here? Need some extra O+ blood?”
“I saved you a table,” I say, nodding toward the setup. “Front and center, perfect foot traffic. Thought Citrine could use the exposure. Plus, with the estate rep showing up later, this is one more feather in our cap. The newlyweds are working at the hospital carnival together.”
Her eyes follow my gesture. When she sees the table with the Citrine signage and neat little product display, she stops walking.
“Oh,” she says, blinking. Then again, softer. “Oh.”
“I figured you’d want to show off a little. Or a lot.”
She turns to me, mouth open like she’s about to say something smart. But instead, she lets out a big breath and shakes her head.
“This is seriously thoughtful, Parker,” she says, brushing a hand across my chest. “I mean, I'm blown away. Thank you. How did you do this?”
“You’re welcome,” I say, and I mean it. I light up knowing I've not only surprised her, but that she's happy about it. "I might have roped Sue into helping me."
“If I weren’t already legally bound to you, this would’ve sealed the deal.”
“Maybe we can sneak into the Blood Mobile and give a special donation?”
She flashes me a look over her shoulder that fills my entire body with a rush of hope. “We’ll see how the day goes.”
We walk toward the event area together, and the tension from earlier is mostly gone. Adair’s got her game face on. She's smooth, unbothered, and smiling like she likes people. It's impressive. She’s impressive.
She greets the volunteers like she’s done it a thousand times. All warmth and ease. Like she belongs here. Hell, like she belongs anywhere.
As we approach the table and she sees all of the products I have here, she's blown away all over again.
"I'm still completely blown away that you got all of this together."
“Sue did all of the heavy lifting. Hope I didn’t mess up your display order.”
Front and center, prime foot traffic real estate. Fresh white cloth, custom Citrine sign, her product display already unpacked and waiting. The good kind of overkill.
She stops dead. “Parker...”
I raise a brow, playing it cool. “Told you it’d be worth the drive.”
She gives me a look that’s somewhere between “you’re insane” and “I could kiss you.” I’m not sure which one I want more.
Then she blinks, straightens, and strides toward the booth like she built it herself. She doesn’t hesitate, even for a second. That’s the thing about Adair, she might panic in private, but in public, she’s bulletproof.
We barely make it five feet before Hattie spots us. If you looked up "mouth of the south" in the dictionary, you would see Hattie's photo.
“Parker! Adair!” she croons, eyes glittering. “Look at you two. Picture perfect. I told the girls in admin the second I saw it—this one’s a keeper.”
“Hi, Hattie,” Adair says, beaming like she’s not about to body-slam someone if they step too close to her display. “You’re looking fabulous today.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere in this town, darling,” Hattie says with a wink. “I’m so glad you’re here. The ladies at the donor table were asking if your husband was real.”
“Guess I’ll have to prove it,” Adair replies breezily, sliding her hand into mine.
Before I can respond, Samuel, the eponymous retired cardiothoracic surgeon, local legend, and the only man alive who makes my dad look humble, waves us over.
“Dr. Matthews,” he calls out. “And who is this lovely young woman?”
“This is Adair,” I say. “My wife.”
That still sounds weird. Good. But weird .
He beams and shakes her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Adair. Parker’s a lucky man.”
She blushes, barely, but recovers like a pro. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Bets used to tell me all the OR stories when I worked as her assistant.”
“Ah, so you’re the one with the organizational skills,” Samuel says with a grin. “You can keep Parker straight.”
She laughs, and like that, she’s got him in the palm of her hand.
We talk a little longer about old hospital stories, blood drive turnout, and trade some good-natured ribbing. She handles all of it like she was born for this.
And I stand there, uselessly in love with a woman I’m not supposed to keep.
She makes it all feel real. The contract, the deadlines, the borrowed time, none of it matters when she looks at me like that.
And for a second, I forget we’re faking.
At one point, we’re standing under one of the tents, watching the crowd.
“You’re good at this,” I say, nudging her lightly.
“At what?”
“At putting people at ease and bringing out the best in them.”
She shrugs, but there’s a faint blush on her cheeks. “It’s not that hard. People want to be appreciated.”
I look at her, really look at her, and for a moment, I forget that this is all supposed to be fake. She’s not playing a part. This is who she is—kind, genuine, and endlessly captivating.
There’s no script for the way she smiles at strangers or throws herself into chaos like she was built for it. That’s not acting. That’s just... Adair.
The fundraiser wraps up in the late afternoon, and by the end of it, we’re both exhausted but happy. The blood drive is a success, with more donors than we expected, and the food drive collects enough to stock the local pantry for weeks.
As we pack up, Adair turns to me, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
“That was fun,” she says. "I appreciate you making this happen for me, for Citrine. It might be the nicest thing anyone's ever done."
“It was fun,” I agree, surprised by how much I mean it.
For a moment, we stand there, the noise of the crowd fading into the background. She smiles at me, and I can’t help but lean in and kiss her. Everything about being with her feels so right. I excuse myself to talk to the Blood Mobile driver.
The sun dips lower in the sky, casting golden light over the now mostly empty space. The tents are nearly packed up, the last of the blood donors waving goodbye as volunteers finish loading boxes of canned goods into a waiting truck for the food pantry.
Adair stands by the refreshment table, sipping one of her juices and chatting with a few loitering volunteers.
She's effortless, her laughter floating on the breeze, and I’m struck again by how natural she is at this.
At pretending, I remind myself, but the line between real and fake feels thinner every time we’re together.
I head over to join her, but before I can say a word, she glances past me, her expression shifting. Her smile falters, replaced by a furrowed brow.
“Parker,” she says, leaning in slightly when I get to her. “That guy over there. By the tents. Do you know him?”
I turn to look, careful not to be too obvious. A skinny man in a dark suit lingers near the edge of the parking lot, his hands clasped tightly in front of him. He’s out of place among the casual crowd, his stiff posture and polished shoes a stark contrast to the laid-back vibe of the event.
“No,” I say slowly. “But he’s definitely not here for the blood drive.”
Adair’s voice drops. “He’s been watching us for a while. I noticed him about twenty minutes ago, but I thought maybe he was waiting for someone. Now I’m not so sure. Do you think it could be someone from the attorney's office? I thought you said he would be here later, though.”
A knot tightens in my stomach. Why would someone be watching us?
“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” I say, though I’m already running through worst-case scenarios. “Maybe he’s lost.”
But even as the words leave my mouth, the man begins walking toward us.
He’s all sharp angles with his narrow face, thin limbs, and a tie knotted so tightly it looks like it might strangle him. When he reaches us, he stops short of invading our personal space, his dark eyes flicking between Adair and me.
“Dr. Matthews?” he asks. His voice is clipped and formal.
“That’s me,” I say, keeping my tone neutral.
He extends a hand. “Paul Kendrick. I’m one of Mr. Blankenship’s associates for the estate. I trust he let you know I'd be coming.”
Adair and I exchange a quick “oh, shit,” glance. So much for jumping to conclusions.
“Right, yes,” I rush to say, still eyeing him suspiciously. "He said your plane would arrive later. I apologize, I didn't realize you'd be here this early."
Paul clears his throat, looking uncomfortable.
“I apologize for the misunderstanding. I didn’t mean to alarm you.
I know we’re officially meeting tomorrow, but I happened to be able to catch an earlier flight.
When I saw the event here at the hospital, I thought I’d take a look around before introducing myself. ”
“Well, we’re happy to show you around, if you'd like,” I say smoothly.
Paul shakes his head quickly. “That won’t be necessary. I assure you, I’m not here today to ruin your time. I wasn’t trying to be intrusive. Just wanted to introduce myself.”
I force a smile, though my mind is racing. How much has he seen? Have we been convincing enough?
“Well,” I say, trying to keep my voice even, “it’s nice to meet you, Paul. Hope you were able to enjoy the event. You can still catch the blood drive before they leave.”
He offers a polite, neutral smile. “My driver’s waiting, but thank you.”
There’s a beat of silence, too long to be casual.
Then he nods. “Dr. Matthews. Ms. Carpenter, I’ll be in touch.”
Without another word, he turns and walks off, disappearing into a sleek black sedan parked near the edge of the lot.
We watch the car pull away in silence.
“What the hell was that?” Adair finally mutters.
Heat blooms in my chest as I try to stay cool. “He wasn’t supposed to fly in until tonight. I figured he'd touch base at some point, but we aren't officially meeting until tomorrow. At least, that's what he told me when he confirmed.”
“Was he watching us?” she asks, eyes still fixed on the now-empty space where the car had been.
“Looks like it,” I say with a tight jaw. “I think he was.”
She turns to face me, her voice low. “And if I hadn’t looked up, if I hadn’t made eye contact, would he have said anything at all?”
I shake my head. “Probably not.”
Her shoulders tense again. “So now we’re being surveilled?”
“Observed,” I correct. “But yeah. I have a hunch that’s exactly what’s happening.”
She’s quiet for a beat, then lets out a shaky breath. “You think we pulled it off?”
I wish I could tell her yes, that we nailed it. But all I can say is, “We’ll know soon enough.”