16. Chapter 16
Chapter sixteen
Parker
“Cashlynn?”
It’s after nine by the time I get home, and the front half of the house is pitch-black. The only light in the space is the overhead lamp on the stove where I see a plate covered in tin foil sitting along with a note.
I sit my bag down and head for the kitchen, picking up the paper to find Cashlynn’s handwriting.
I made dinner and was hoping we could eat it together, but I got tired of waiting.
Put it in the microwave for two minutes if you’re still hungry. I’m going to bed early.
“Shit.” I tear the foil off the plate and find chicken and rice casserole. It looks and smells amazing. Cashlynn went out of her way to make this for me, and I let her down.
Covering the plate again, I slide it into the fridge since I grabbed something on the way home. Making my way down the hall to her room, I’m already running through what I’ll say—how I’ll explain without oversharing. After my session with Dr. Jensen, I know I have a long road ahead, and until I’m sure I won’t bail this time, I want to keep my therapy private.
The door is cracked just enough for me to see her lying on her side, scrolling on her phone.
I push the door open gently. “Cashlynn?”
She doesn’t turn over. “I’m not in the mood, Parker.”
“This isn’t a booty call. And if it was, you’re always in the mood. What’s wrong?”
She shoots me a glare over her shoulder. “Just leave it.”
I bristle at that. “Not happening. Tell me what’s wrong.”
She turns over to look at me. “Nothing. I just thought…” She shakes her head, pressing her lips into a tight line. “You know what, just forget it.”
“Cashlynn, I’m sorry I missed dinner. I didn’t know you were waiting.”
“You know, there are these things called phones,” she snaps.
I drag a hand down my face and make my way over to the bed, sitting on the edge so I can see her. Her face is red and blotchy, like she’s been crying . Shit . “You’re right. I could have texted you, but…” She blinks at me, waiting for me to continue. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had to check in with anyone, okay?” Her face softens slightly. “I have to get used to that again, but I am sorry.”
She lets out a sigh. “I appreciate that, but I don’t know, Parker… My mind was spinning when I realized you weren’t coming home and then I wondered…”
“Wondered what?”
Her eyes search mine. “If I read this weekend all wrong.” Sitting up, she pulls the blankets around her waist. “If maybe I was the only one thinking this was more than just…pretend.”
Her words land like a punch, and I don’t even hesitate. “You weren’t wrong,” I say, reaching for her hand. “Look, I should have texted or called to let you know I was going to be late. I messed up. And I’m sorry for making you doubt me.”
“Okay… But where were you?” she asks, and I hate the trepidation in her voice.
“I had an appointment,” I answer simply, hoping it’s enough.
She nods. “Okay.”
“But I did already eat, so I’ll take the casserole for lunch tomorrow. It looks amazing. Thank you.”
I get a small smile from her this time before she slides back under the covers.
I lean down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Goodnight, Cashlynn.”
“Goodnight, Parker.”
I stand and leave, headed to my bedroom to sleep alone because I can tell Cashlynn’s still upset and my mind is racing from my therapy session.
But I pause right outside my door as I realize that I don’t want to sleep alone tonight. I don’t want to be away from her.
So, after I change and brush my teeth, I return to her room.
“Parker?” she asks, sitting up as I make my way toward her bed.
“Got room for one more in there?”
She looks at me, confused. “Um, sure.”
I slide in behind her and prop my head up so I can look at her.
“Why are you in here?” she asks, looking up at me.
“Because I want to wake up next to you.”
Her eyes fill with hope. “Oh.”
I lean down and press my mouth to hers. “Yeah, oh. Now go to sleep, woman.”
The smile she gives me this time is far more reassuring than the last one. She shifts closer, and I wrap my arm around her waist, holding her against me. I fall asleep with the woman I’m finally ready to let in, even as the one from my past haunts my dreams.
***
I reach up and wipe the tartar sauce from my lips, watching Cashlynn with fascination as she takes another bite of her crab cakes, closing her eyes and moaning in approval.
“I told you they’re the best,” I say with a grin.
“I can’t believe I haven’t been out here yet.” She glances out toward the water that surrounds us. We’re sitting at a table outside of Franny’s Crab Shack on the pier as people bustle around us. This place is a Carrington Cove hotspot. “But I’ll be coming back at least once a week.”
“I think we could make that happen.” I reach for my drink and take a sip.
Cashlynn finishes chewing and then reaches for my hand. “Thank you again for tonight, Parker. I have to say it was a pleasant surprise.”
I lift her hand, brushing a kiss to the back of it. “Well, I think it was about time I took you on a proper date. And after letting you down last night, I wanted to make it up to you.”
Her eyes dip to her plate, and her smile falters slightly. “I’m sorry for the way I reacted.”
“Hey.” I tip her chin up until her eyes meet mine. “You have nothing to apologize for, Cashlynn. I’m the one who fucked up. I’m the one who didn’t communicate and made you question things, okay? That is on me.”
Her lips twitch into a slow smile. “Okay.”
Releasing her chin, I grab my napkin and crumple it up, tossing it into my empty basket. “The night isn’t over yet. When you’re done, we have another stop to make.”
Cashlynn shoves the last bite of her crabcake into her mouth and hands me her basket. “I’m done,” she mumbles around her mouthful of food, making me laugh.
“Don’t choke.” I reach for her hand to help her up from her seat, watching her swallow roughly.
“I’m good. Now, where are you taking me?”
With her hand secured in mine, we head back down the pier toward the sand where I motion for her to take off her sandals. I carry them and mine in my free hand. The feel of the cold sand between my toes instantly calms me, something I’d almost forgotten it has the ability to.
“Well, it’s almost sunset, so I figured we could watch it together from the beach. How does that sound?”
She pushes her hair from her face as the wind whips it around. “That sounds amazing.”
We stroll slowly, taking in the sound and smell of the water before Cashlynn breaks the silence. “If I lived here, I’d be down by the water every chance I got.”
“Uh, newsflash, Cashlynn. You do live here now.”
She presses a palm to her face. “Oh God. That just came out like a bad habit. You’re right. This is home now.”
“Are you second-guessing that decision?”
She shakes her head instantly. “No. Not at all. In fact, I’ve never felt more sure of anything in my entire life.”
“Damn. What’s that feel like?”
“ Certainty?” I nod as she stares out at the water. “I guess it just feels a lot like the opposite of regret.”
“Like you’re afraid of regret more than taking chances?”
“Yeah. I told you before that my mom always reminded me not to live with regrets, so I guess in those moments I’m unsure about something, I think of her, try to hear her voice speaking to me.” She closes her eyes and I watch as she lets her memories take over. I know what that’s like. I do that sometimes with my dad—try to hear his voice, remember his smile, what he smells like, or a memory that comes over me at unexpected times.
Cashlynn’s eyes pop back open as she looks at me. “So instead of being afraid, I leap—even if I hesitate at first. Lord knows, I’ve put off this gallery idea for a while, but then something just clicked for me.”
“What was it?”
With our eyes locked, she says, “Meeting you.”
Fuck.
I stop walking and pull her into my chest. Cupping her cheek, I lean down and slowly press my lips to hers—because hearing her admit that I’m the reason she faced her fears makes me feel like maybe she’s the reason that I can finally face mine.
When we part, her eyes open slowly as she stares up at me. “What was that for?”
“For being you. The way you look at me…” I inhale deeply. “It’s unnerving sometimes.”
Her lips quirk into a smile. “Right back at you.”
I press another chaste kiss to her lips and then tug her forward again. “I’ve forgotten how much I love the feeling of the sand between my toes.”
“Really?”
“ Yeah. I hate to admit it, but I haven’t been down to the water in ages.” I drag my foot in the sand to my side. “You’d think living here for practically my whole life I’d take advantage of it, but work has always been the priority.”
“When you have something at your fingertips, it’s easy to take it for granted.”
I nod. “I agree. In fact, I remember when I was in college in California, every time I came home to visit, the water was one of the first places I’d go. Now I don’t come down here nearly as often as I’d like.” I cast my gaze out at the water.
“Well, maybe it’s time to change that.”
I look down at her, feeling a shift in my chest. “Yeah, I’m beginning to realize it’s time I change a lot of things.”
***
“So, Parker, how have things been in the last week?” Dr. Jensen has her pen and notepad ready to go, eager to make notes as I unload everything that’s been going through my mind in the last seven days.
I rub the back of my neck. “Well, I took Cashlynn out on a date.”
Dr. Jensen perks up in her seat. “And how did it go?”
I think back to the way Cashlynn made me feel at peace while we walked along the beach and talked about any and everything. We watched the sunset like I planned, and when we got home, I ravaged her body, showing her what my mind and heart won’t let me say yet.
“I’m falling fast for her. But…I haven’t been sleeping well.”
“Still having those dreams about Sasha?”
Leaning back against the couch, I run my hands down my thighs. “Yeah.”
“ Were the dreams the same as the ones you described to me last time?” she asks.
“Two of the nights they were, but the other night…it was different.”
She jots something down. “Tell me about it.”
“Well, it wasn’t the morning I asked her to go to rehab. It was the week after—when I got the phone call that she had checked herself out.” She nods, urging me to continue. “But this time, I actually got to see her before she skipped town.”
“Did she say anything to you?”
I run a hand over my face. “She kept saying, ‘You’re the reason I’m dead. You killed me.’”
She purses her lips. “Is that what you believe?”
The question punches me in the gut. My throat tightens as I lean forward, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I don’t want to fucking cry,” I manage, my voice hoarse.
“Why?”
My knee bounces up and down rapidly.
“Have you cried since Sasha passed away, Parker?” she presses.
When I open my eyes, the first tear slips free. “Not much, no. A little at her funeral, but then her parents started screaming at me, so I left. Then I drank until I couldn’t see straight.”
“I see.” She writes a few more notes on her paper. “So, here’s how I see it. You never grieved the woman you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with, and you blame yourself for her death. Does that sound about right?”
“Aren’t I paying you to tell me that, Dr. Jensen?”
She smirks at me. “Just answer the question, Parker.”
“Yeah. That sounds about right.”
“And how has it felt carrying around all that guilt?”
“ Uh, not fucking great. Hence why I’m here, Doc.” It’s this kind of questioning that irritated me about therapy in the first place.
“And who is the one in control of carrying around the guilt, Parker?”
I tilt my head at her. “Let me guess…me?”
She chuckles. “Very good.”
“Okay, so how do I let go of it?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “There’s no magic solution, Parker. But there’s usually a moment when you realize it’s time to let it go. Until then, lean into the discomfort. Push yourself to do the things that scare you.” I look down at the floor. “I, uh…Cashlynn’s been sleeping next to me for the past week.”
Dr. Jensen’s eyebrows lift. “That’s a big step. How does it make you feel?”
“Not so alone,” I admit.
She nods, setting her notepad to the side. “Sometimes we think that isolating ourselves will prevent us from hurting, but it can actually do the opposite and leave us alone with all of the pain we are holding onto.”
I lift my eyes and find hers again. “When I’m with her, my chest feels lighter. There’s something about this woman that pulled at me from the moment I met her. But…”
“But what?”
I let out a long sigh. “It’s always so easy in the beginning of a relationship, right? Like, I never thought Sasha was an alcoholic when we first started dating. Is that because I was na?ve about it and didn’t want to see it? Or can people really change on you like that?” I snap my fingers. “What if I’m blinded by Cashlynn right now and I repeat the same mistakes? What if I ignore her, don’t give her the time she deserves, or… ”
“Let me stop you right there,” Dr. Jensen says. “That’s a lot of ‘what ifs.’”
“You should hear what goes on in my head most days, Doc.”
She smiles and then continues. “When you say you didn’t see who Sasha was, did she ever share her struggles with you?”
“No. She actually hid it from me.”
Her eyebrow lifts. “And when you say that she changed, did you change as well?”
“I mean, yeah. Things shifted when she moved to Carrington Cove with me.”
“So would you say that your relationship was strong from the beginning, Parker? Did you two communicate effectively, grow and change together, and speak honestly with each other? Or not?”
A million memories slam into me all at once. “Fuck,” I mutter as I lock eyes with Dr. Jensen.
She scribbles something on her notepad with a grin. “I think we’re done for today.”
***
“Cashlynn?”
It’s Wednesday night and I’m getting home just after nine, but I made sure to text Cashlynn this time.
See? I’m fucking learning.
The practice was insanely busy today and an emergency surgery kept me there late. Seth stayed late too, like he was afraid to leave before me. Jackass . I seriously can’t wait until Robert makes his decision and I can put this whole thing behind me.
“ I’m in my room!” Cashlynn calls out, instantly making me feel more at ease. I set my stuff on the kitchen counter and start unbuttoning my shirt as I make my way down the hall. The tie comes off too, and as I step into her room, my shirt already hanging open, I’m ready for her to rip it off since that’s been the routine the past few days.
But what I see stops me in my tracks.
She’s painting.
Holy shit .
Sitting on a stool in nothing but her underwear and an over-sized T-shirt, she’s completely focused on the canvas. Her hands move expertly, blending strokes of dark blue and white, accented by a few hints of yellow. Her hair is piled in a messy bun on top of her head, and she’s biting her bottom lip as she assesses each stroke of her brush, contemplating where the next will go.
She’s so consumed by what she’s doing that she doesn’t register I’m behind her until I wrap my arms around her waist. I plant kisses on her exposed neck and collar bone, watching her skin pebble right before my eyes. “You’re painting…”
She glances over her shoulder at me. “I am. Why are you so surprised?”
I brush her hair back, studying her work. “You haven’t painted since you moved in. I was wondering if I was ever going to see you in action.”
She nods, staring back at her canvas. “Honestly, I’ve been so busy getting ready for the gallery to open and figuring out how to get you to admit that you wanted me, I haven’t had the energy. But today, this image came to mind and I got the strongest urge to mess around with some paint, so I did.” She shrugs.
“It’s beautiful. What inspired it?”
“It was just the colors that kept coming to me.”
“Blue and yellow?”
“ A mix of calmness and optimism.”
I stare at the canvas. “I guess I can see that.”
“Each color symbolizes different emotions, and I think those two are the most dominant in my life right now.”
I point at the single streak of black in the corner. “And that?”
Cashlynn tilts her head as she stares at the spot in question. “Fear.”
My stomach lurches as I clear my throat. “Yeah, I get that too.”
She turns her head to look at me. “A little fear is okay, Parker. It means you have something to lose, remember? But see how the other colors are more prominent?” I nod. “Those are the ones you tend to focus on, right?”
I stand back and push a hand through my hair, but Cashlynn doesn’t let me get too far. When she reaches out to pull me back into her, her fingers graze my chest and leave a trail of blue paint in their wake. We both stare at the streak of color on my bare chest, my shirt still hanging open. And then I see the hint of mischief in her eyes.
“What’s that look for?”
She licks her lips and then dips her finger into the light blue paint this time, rubbing it on her palms and then slapping them to my chest, running them down my stomach, her nails scraping lightly as she does.
“Fuck, Cashlynn. Seriously?”
She nods, pushing my shirt off my shoulders. “God, I love your body, Parker. It’s like its own work of art.”
My stomach tightens as she backs me up against the wall, running her fingers through the divots in my abs and then traveling up my pecs and over my shoulders, dragging the paint with her as she moves her hands all over my body.
And even though this woman is making a mess, turning me into her own human art project, her touch ignites desire in my veins like it always does.
Bef ore I can contemplate her next move, she drops to her knees, placing her palms on her thighs. Looking up at me, she says, “Drop your pants, Dr. Sheppard.”
My cock grows even harder in an instant as I obey. I pop the clasp on my slacks and shove them and my underwear down my legs, leaving me standing there in nothing but my socks—my ironed socks, that is.
“Dr. Sheppard, huh?” I ask as I reach down and stroke myself, using the precum leaking from my tip to coat my length.
She smirks, dipping her hands into red paint this time. “It’s like a naughty Grey’s Anatomy fantasy come to life.”
I laugh, but it quickly turns into a groan as Cashlynn presses her painted hands against my thighs, making me tighten all over again just as her mouth closes over the tip of my cock.
“Fuck, sweetheart. Were you thinking about my cock while I was gone today?” I ask her as she hums around my length.
Her eyes flutter closed as she nods, taking me as deep as she can before gagging and repeating the process. When she reaches up to cup my balls, I don’t even think about the fact that she’s marking me with her paint. In fact, I fucking love it. Me—the guy that hates messes—is so fucking turned on right now as I watch Cashlynn leave her mark all over my body.
“Your greedy pussy needs this cock too, huh?” This time she nods and sucks me harder, swirling her tongue along the underside of my dick while gently rolling my balls in her hands. She slaps one hand on my stomach as she bobs up and down, faster and faster, making my orgasm rush forward.
“Fuck, you’re gonna make me come, Cashlynn.”
She nods again, looking me in the eyes and telling me without words that she’s ready to take my release down her throat.
“ Jesus. Fuck, yes. Like that.” She moves faster, tugging on my balls this time and pressing against the skin just behind them, and that’s what sets me off. “Fuck!”
I watch her intently as she swallows every drop of me down her throat, and when the last drop leaves me, she licks me clean, swirling her tongue around my tip one more time for good measure.
The smile she has on her lips as she stares up at me from the floor, the pure look of pleasure on her face from making me come undone has me eager to return the favor. I lift her from the floor, tear her shirt over her head, and crash into her, covering her mouth with my own, paint going everywhere.
But I don’t fucking care. I need this woman. I need to bury myself inside her so deep that she never wants another man to fuck her—because I’ll be damned if that thought ever crosses her mind again.
With our mouths still connected, I lead Cashlynn into my bathroom, turning on the shower as we continue to run our hands all over each other. She breaks the kiss for just a moment, long enough to look at us in the mirror, our bodies smeared with blue and red paint.
“What does red represent, Cashlynn?”
She turns back to me. “Passion. Desire. And love.”
Our eyes bounce back and forth between one another, but I don’t say a word. I push her underwear down her legs, walk her into the shower, and run my hands all over us, cleaning the paint from our skin, and then fuck the woman who has taken ownership of me in a matter of six weeks—because let’s be honest, I want her to own me too.
***
“ Good thing you had a tarp down in your room, otherwise there would have been paint in the carpet.”
Cashlynn laughs as she lies next to me in my bed. We’re freshly showered, she’s freshly fucked, and now we’re talking a bit before we go to sleep. “I’m very surprised you let me do that. I was waiting for you to freak out.”
“Not gonna lie, my anxiety flared for a minute, but then you told me to drop my pants, and, well…” I shrug and she laughs, nestling in closer to me.
Then I think of a question I had earlier but never got to ask because nakedness took over. “Do you ever paint people? I know you said you paint mostly scenery and abstracts on the plane, but I was wondering if you ever tried people?”
“Not really.”
“Why not?”
She sighs. “It’s so hard to get the shadows right. I feel like my mind just can’t pay tribute to the lines of the body the way they deserve to be seen.”
“Funny. You were paying tribute to the lines on my body just fine.”
She smacks my chest and then lays her head back down on it. “That was cheesy.”
“Sorry if I’m lacking sophistication right now. I’m exhausted.”
Trailing her fingers through the short hair on my chest, she hums. “Was the practice crazy today?”
“Yeah. Your father and Beth were gone, so everyone had to step up a bit. I swear, when Beth retires, the whole place might burn to the ground.”
“Do you think she might when my father does?”
I think back to the conversation I overheard between the two of them, still not sure of what I heard, so I keep it to myself for now. “I don’t know, honestly. I know she’s worked there for almost thirty years so I can’t imagine her staying for much longer.”
“My father had to reschedule our lunch date for next week. Something about an appointment that he was able to get because of a cancellation.”
“An appointment for what?” I ask, my nerves activating from this information.
“I don’t know. He didn’t say and I didn’t ask. Sounds like someone else I know,” she teases, but my pulse spikes. I still haven’t told Cashlynn about my therapy appointments. It’s only been two weeks, and I know I have a ton of shit to work through. I want to wait until there’s something more productive to tell her, or at least until I’m sure this is going to stick.
“But he’s good about going to his regular checkups and stuff, so it’s probably something like that. If it was something serious, I’m sure he’d tell me,” she continues, pulling me from my thoughts.
I nod, but don’t say anything in response. Instead, I decide to change the subject. “What’s your favorite color?”
She chuckles, looking up at me again. “Where did that come from?”
“I’m just trying to learn more about you, and that’s one of the basic questions I think I should know the answer to.”
She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “That question is impossible to answer because it changes for me. I go through moods.” She glances down at my now clean chest, dancing her fingers along my skin again. “But after tonight? I think blue is definitely my favorite right now.”
I roll on top of her, cupping her jaw in my hand, and get lost in her amber eyes—a place I would be happy staying lost indefinitely. “Yeah, I think blue just moved to the top of the list for me too.”