6. Parker
6
PARKER
I have a job.
I have a great job, at a great auto shop, with people who seem like great guys, with a salary that is large enough to make me lose my mind a bit. It’s almost twice what I was making at my job back home, with full benefits and overtime. It’s kind of mind-blowing.
Without realizing I’m doing it, I turn to Danny, wanting to thank him, but instead, my mouth goes instantly dry. The look in his eyes is excited and happy and…hungry? No, I must be reading him wrong. We’re friends. It’s just wishful thinking to believe that he’s looking at me like he wants to eat me alive. That must be his smug look. I was a raging bitch to him in the car, and right now he’s probably desperate to tell me he told me so.
I’m grateful for his help, but no matter what he says, us living together can’t happen. I’m going to need some separation from him, because sharing a space with him would be a living nightmare for me. The first time he brought a girl home, I’d probably try to claw their eyes out.
Danny is my friend. My friend . My friend . I repeat the mantra in my head, needing to remind myself that we won’t ever be anything more. Being in the same town as him will be hard, so I need to draw a line right now and remember not to cross it.
I can survive one night in his house, but when I get here on Monday, I won’t be staying with him, I’ll be at a hotel until I can find my own place. I don’t have a ton of money for a deposit on an apartment, but I can figure something out.
After I say goodbye to Penn and Bay, I let Danny steer me back to his car in a slight daze.
“You totally nailed that,” Danny gushes excitedly the moment he slips into the driver’s seat and closes his door.
“What?”
“The interview, you nailed it. You had them eating out of the palm of your hand.” His laugh is so warm and happy that I find myself almost leaning into him. The moment I realize what I’m doing, I force myself to sit stiff in the seat.
“Thank you for setting that all up for me. I’m sorry for how I behaved on the way here. I just didn’t know what you’d told them about me.”
“I’d never oversell you and set you up to fail,” he says earnestly.
“I know,” I admit, feeling a wave of shame settle over me for ever questioning that he would. “I’m sorry, Danny.”
His lips spread into a smile that’s so bright, I can’t help smiling back at him. I’m not sure what I was expecting from him in person, but it wasn’t this. In pictures, he’s so beautiful that I think I maybe thought he’d be almost plastic in real life. I don’t know why I thought he’d be any different than the wonderful, funny, caring man I’ve been chatting with online, but I think I assumed that he was too good to be true.
“You moving here is enough to make up for your lack of faith,” he teases. “Do you need me to arrange movers to get your stuff from your place in Vermont?” he asks.
“No. I don’t have much, so I’ll fly home in the morning, load my car, and then drive back here.”
“You plan to drive here?” he asks, his tone rough and low.
“Yes. I don’t have to be back here till Monday. I have the time.”
“It’s over two thousand miles,” he says incredulously.
“I’ve always wanted to take my baby for a road trip,” I say dreamily, imagining opening my car up on the endless miles of freeway and really seeing what she can do.
“No fucking way,” he snaps.
“What?” I blink, dragged from my daydream by his terse tone.
“There’s no way I’m letting you drive over two thousand miles on your own.”
“I’m not asking for permission.”
“I’ll find a transport company to bring your car here and some movers to pack up your stuff, that way you don’t even need to fly back, you can just stay here,” he says, his smile wide, like he just solved all of my problems.
“I’m not letting some stranger touch my car, plus it’s locked in my garage, and I have the keys with me. I’m also not letting a moving company pack up my stuff. How would they even know what’s mine? Plus, do you realize how expensive that would be? I don’t have that kind of money to waste when I need enough money for a deposit, first and last, on a place here.”
“You’re living with me,” he hisses.
“I can’t live with you, Danny,” I tell him, a hint of panic bleeding into my voice.
“Well, you’re not living anywhere else.”
“Excuse me?” I say slowly, not recognizing the low, gruff…demanding timbre of his voice. I’ve never heard him sound like that before, and thank God I haven’t, because honestly, the sound of his voice and the demanding growl in his words is making me want to come, or maybe I just want to pull down my jeans and pants, then bend over and beg him to fuck me.
“I said, you’re not living anywhere else. I have two empty bedrooms, and you’re going to be living with me. End of discussion.”
Before I have a chance to speak again. Danny pulls into the parking lot of a restaurant. Killing the engine, he slips out of his seat, his broad shoulders tense and stiff. When my car door opens, I blink up at his hulking frame blocking my exit.
“Let’s go eat,” he growls, holding out his hand for me to take.
My arm moves without my consent, and I place my hand over his and let him help me out, like I’m a damsel in distress who can’t get out of a car seat without him. Once my feet are on the floor, I try to tug my hand free, but instead of releasing me, he tightens his hold on me, his grip just shy of painful.
Blinking, I lift my chin and look up into his face. For the first time, I allow myself to really take him in. When I saw him in the airport, I tried not to look, but now, in the quiet early evening light, it’s impossible to ignore just how perfect he truly is.
In real life, he’s bigger, broader, and more muscled than he looks in his pictures. His biceps are so wide I bet one of his arms is almost as big as my waist. I knew he was tall, but I feel like a kid having to tip my head back just to be able to see his face, and god what a face it is.
He looks like a model. Perfect teeth, great cheekbones, a defined jaw, and eyes that twinkle with mischief. His lips are full and plump, and if he kissed me, I know it’d be something I’d never recover from.
He’s so perfect…too perfect. He’s the kind of perfect that can’t be real, the kind of perfect that’s untouchable. Danny Hoffman is my perfect, gorgeous, sexy friend, but that’s it. That’s all he can ever be.
“You ready?” he asks, his voice low, using that sexy tone that I know I’ll be hearing in my dreams for months to come.
“Yes,” I say softly, allowing myself a single moment to imagine what it’d be like if he wasn’t just my friend.
If he were my man, he’d slip his arm over my shoulder and hold me close. He’d palm my ass possessively, then lean down and whisper all the dirty things he wants to do to me when he gets me home. If he were mine, he’d usher me into a booth, then slip in next to me. He’d place his palm possessively over my thigh or maybe even cup my pussy, claiming me beneath the table where only we’d know he was staking a claim.
He’d order for me, then kiss me silly while we waited for our drinks. He’d make my entire world just me and him, and I’d love it.
But that’s not real, and he’s not mine.
It takes longer than it should for me to push my daydream back into the box where it lives, wrap the box in chains, then lock it with a hundred padlocks. Fantasies are great, but I can’t let this one bleed into reality, especially not if I’m going to regularly see Danny in person.
He’s not mine, and he never will be, and that’s all there is to it.
Keeping my hand wrapped tightly in his, he leads me toward the restaurant, opening the door and guiding me into the modern, but cozy-looking dining room. A hostess grabs menus for us, then leads us to a booth, and I have to remind myself not to lose it when Danny motions for me to sit first, then takes the seat beside me, not opposite.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” a waitress asks, appearing at the end of the table with a tablet in her hand.
“Do you want a beer?” Danny asks me.
“Sure,” I manage to croak through my arid throat.
“Two beers, please,” he tells the waitress.
Squeezing the menu a little too tightly, I focus on the words on the laminated page, not really seeing them, but refusing to look at the man beside me.
“What do you want to eat? The food is really good here,” Danny says, oblivious to my internal freakout.
“Errr, what are you having?”
“Steak,” he says with a playful growl.
“That sounds good,” I say, clearing my throat and sitting up a little straighter, trying to inch away from Danny without being obvious.
Dropping his menu to the table, he lifts his arm and drapes it along the back of the booth, not touching me but making me feel caged in and protected. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was acting like a territorial boyfriend, even though he’s obviously not.
I’m grateful for the reprieve from my inner thoughts when the waitress brings our drinks and takes our food order. Danny gets his steak, and I order a burger, then immediately regret my choice when I remember I’ll probably end up spilling sauce down my shirt or getting it all over my face.
Lifting his beer, Danny tips it toward me. “Congratulations on your new job, Parks, I’m so fucking happy for you.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, feeling my cheeks heat for no reason. Lifting my own beer, I tap my glass against his, then lift it to my lips and take a deep pull.
“You’re going to love living up on the row. It’s fucking beautiful and so peaceful. Hal owns thousands of acres of land, and Bonnie can set us up with some horses so we can ride the trails if you want to explore a little.”
“Danny, I appreciate the offer, I really do. But I can’t move in with you,” I say, trying to force some steel into my voice and failing miserably. With him sitting so close and his huge arm inches from my face, the scent of his soapy, masculine smell has filled my nose, and my brain is telling me to rub against him like a cat in fucking heat, not argue with him.
“Sure, you can. I have two empty bedrooms,” Danny says breezily, pinching one of my curls that’s near his hand between two fingers and toying with it.
“No. I can’t. I need my own space. I’m used to living alone,” I protest, but I sound almost breathy.
“That’s okay. I’m on shift half the week anyway, so for fifty percent of the time, you will be living alone. The other fifty percent, we’ll be hanging out anyway. It makes no sense for us not to live together.”
“I like my space. I like to sleep naked, and I always forget my clothes when I go to the shower, so I wander around in a towel. I’m messy and disorganized. I’m a girl.”
“I sleep naked too. If you want, you can have the bedroom with the en suite, so you don’t need to worry about towels, and I’m pretty organized, so I’ll keep things tidy,” Danny says, easily countering my arguments.
“I own lots of loud sex toys, and I’m a screamer,” I blurt, my desperation coating each ridiculously inappropriate word.
Danny’s eyebrow arches and a sexy smile tips the corners of his full lips. “Is that right?” he drawls.
Drawls! How the hell am I meant to keep my overactive libido in check when Danny looks like Danny and drawls too?
I’m fucked. So fucked.
“Danny, I’m serious. We can’t live together. It wouldn’t work.”
“It’ll work fine, and you should get used to thinking that way, because it’s happening. We’ll fly back to Vermont tomorrow, pack up your place, and drive back to Montana. We’ll have over two thousand miles for you to tell me all the reasons we shouldn’t live together while I explain all the reasons we should. It’ll be fun.”
His words are flirty and amusing, he’s smiling, and his posture is relaxed, but there’s something about his tone and the look in his eyes that tells me he’s not playing right now.
“You have to work tomorrow,” I say.
“I already texted Buck and explained. I’ve got loads of annual leave, and he’d rather be a man down than have me worried about you driving across the country on your own.”
“I’m more than capable of driving myself—” I start.
“Parks, I’m not questioning your ability to do the drive,” Danny interrupts. “You totally can do the drive alone, but you won’t be. You can argue until you’re blue in the face, but I won’t budge on this. I’m flying back with you in the morning, we’ll sort your apartment out, pack your car, then road trip to Montana.”
Once again, despite his happy, smiling facade, there’s a layer of steely determination that I know I won’t be able to smash through, no matter what I say. It sends a chill running through my skin. Danny and I have talked almost daily for such a long time, but I had no idea he had this…dominance to his personality. It’s something I’ve never seen from him before, and I wish I could say I hate it, but I really don’t.
Tall, jacked, beautiful, and dominant…I’m fucked.
“Can I get you any dessert?” the waitress asks once we’ve finished our food and she’s taken away our empty plates.
“Parks?” Danny asks, turning his attention to me.
“No, thanks,” I say, then yawn.
“We’ll just take the check, please,” Danny says.
“Dinner’s on me,” I say.
“Nope,” Danny says, a hint of that steely tone peeking through his words once again.
“You got me a job,” I argue.
“I got you an interview. You got yourself the job,” he protests.
“So, then dinner is a thank you for getting me an interview,” I say with a victorious smirk.
“Not happening,” Danny snaps, and there’s a finality in his voice that makes my words of protest dry up in my throat.
The whole time we’ve been arguing, the waitress has been standing at the end of the table, watching us banter like she’s a spectator at a tennis match. “Sooo…” She trails off, the check gripped tightly in her fingers.
“Here,” Danny says, pulling out a credit card and handing it over to her.
Feeling chastened, I clear my throat, dropping my gaze to the tabletop.
“Let’s go home,” Danny says quietly, reaching across the table and curling his fingers through mine until our hands are entwined.
A part of me knows I should protest his hold on me. He’s been railroading me since he announced he’d booked me a flight to come here. But despite being a little annoyed by his behavior, a part of me likes it. I like when he takes charge and tells me to do something. I like that he’s taken away some of my choices, because even though his behavior is high-handed, it’s sexy too.
What I don’t like is that him behaving this way is only making my crush on him worse.
Consumed by my thoughts, I let him lead me out of the restaurant and to his car. I don’t protest when he insists on opening my door or when he refuses to let go of my hand so I can climb into his car and instead forces me to let him help me get into the seat.
“Are you pouting?” he asks a few minutes later when we’ve left the lights of Rockhead Point behind us and are traversing a quiet country road that’s slowly winding up the mountain.
“I don’t pout,” I say, fighting the urge to pout.
“Are you pissed?”
“A little,” I admit.
“Because I paid for dinner?” he asks, clearly unsure.
“No.”
“Because I want us to live together?”
“I need my own space.”
“Why? Because you like to get yourself off with toys?” he asks nonchalantly.
“Danny,” I hiss.
“Hey, that was your reasoning for not wanting to live with me. You said you had a lot of toys and that you’re a screamer,” he deadpans.
“I was joking,” I lie, glad that the darkness inside the car is hiding the deep flush I can feel filling my cheeks.
“Were you?” Turning to look at me, he arches one brow in question.
“Yes…?” I know my pause makes my response sound more like a question, but seriously, how else could I possibly answer that?
“I wouldn’t mind,” he says, his tone low.
There’s a gruffness to his voice that does things to me, and I shudder. “What?” The single word is barely a whisper.
“I think I’d like to hear you scream,” he drawls.
“Danny.” I try to make his name sound scolding, but in the end it comes out breathy and kind of wanton.
“Parker,” he says back, and my name has never sounded as seductive as he just made it.
Closing my eyes, I allow myself a second to imagine how it’d feel if he were actually interested in me. Would he unzip his pants and force my head down onto his cock while he drove? Would he have me suck him off all the way back to his place? Giving head is my guilty pleasure. Most women don’t really like it, but I love sucking cock, and I’d bet every single dollar I have that Danny’s dick is a work of fucking art.
I bet it’s long and thick. I bet he’d make my eyes roll back if he slammed into me roughly. I’d bet he’d made me scream like no one has ever done before.
“Parks.”
His voice drags me from my fantasy and back to the present. We’re not driving anymore; we’re parked outside a cute row of houses. Glancing around me, I take it all in. There are maybe fifteen houses, all curved in a circle around a grassed area that has some kids’ play equipment in the center. The houses are all identical, a little like someone took Monopoly houses and built a cul-de-sac.
I jump, startled when Danny opens my car door, his expression quizzical as he stares down at me expectantly. It’s the second time tonight that I’ve gotten so lost in my head that I’ve lost track of what’s going on around me, and I don’t know if it’s him or if I’m just tired.
“Are you okay?” Danny asks, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Sorry, zoned out for a minute there. I’m pretty tired.”
“Then let’s get you inside and into bed,” he says, and if I didn’t already know that it was my horny brain playing tricks on me, I’d swear his words sound…suggestive. But there’s no way that’s true. Right?
Taking his offered hand, I let him help me down, even though I could totally do it without his help. My bag is already gripped tightly in his other hand as he leads me toward the front door of one of the middle houses.
“Welcome to your new home,” he says, releasing my hand so he can unlock the front door.