Chapter 12
Parker
Anya did, in fact, have something that matched the Voyagers colors.
Thank God no cameras were trained on me when I walked into the house because I almost tripped over my own fucking feet.
The bright green dress had thin straps over her shoulders, fitted across her chest with a demure V that showed only the slightest hint of cleavage. It flared out at her waist, falling around the knees. Her hair was down, and she’d used a delicate little braid to hold her hair off her face, the rest of it in loose waves falling around her shoulders.
Her hands were reaching behind her back as she caught my eye. “Help. I can’t get these last little hooks, and I don’t know how soon they’ll be here.”
I blinked a few times, words sticking like peanut butter in my throat. “Uh. Soon. I … I got caught up in a last-minute meeting with our offensive coordinator and couldn’t get out the door as soon as I hoped.”
Anya nodded. “I know it’s a dress, and you said we should stay casual, but I really didn’t have anything else that matched. I brought it for the weekend at your family’s house, just in case we went out to dinner or something.”
Before she turned her back to me, Anya swept her hair out of the way, and sure enough, a part of the zipper was undone at the top. Light freckles dusted her upper back, and for a moment, I could only stare.
She glanced at me, her eyes so much greener than usual because of the dress and whatever gold stuff she’d swept over her eyelids. “Can you get it?”
I looked down again. I … yes. I could do this. I had working hands and a functioning brain, and I could manage to hook a fucking zipper without doing something stupid.
Stepping up behind Anya, I clenched my jaw and studied the variation of golds in her hair. Some of it was so white it didn’t even look real. Some was darker, richer. She smelled incredible. Like grapefruit and something warm.
Apparently, I could do something stupid because I let my fingers dip into the back of her dress as I tugged the zipper the remaining few inches. Let them linger on the soft, firm skin of her back as I connected the small metal hook.
Anya was holding her body so still that I wasn’t even sure she was breathing.
Moments like that, it was impossible not to close my eyes and remember how she’d looked in the hotel. God, I’d tried to forget. But there was no forgetting her curves, not for as long as I lived. My hands took on a life of their own, sneaky little bastards, and I watched with a strange sort of detachment as my fingers traced the thin straps holding up her dress.
“This is pretty,” I murmured.
“Thank you.” Her voice was shakier than normal, like she couldn’t quite breathe properly. Then again, neither could I. I took a step closer, my chest lightly brushing her back, and I let my palms coast over the tops of her shoulders and down her upper arms. “What are you doing?”
“Touching my wife.” It was a logical answer, wasn’t it? Even though logic didn’t seem to have a foothold in any of this. “They’ll expect that.”
She tilted her head forward, exposing the graceful line of her neck. “Are we pretending again?” she whispered.
“Just a little,” I whispered back.
My hands slid back up her arms, and I used the tips of my fingers to trace the bump of her spine at the base of her neck. Light, teasing touches. I was two fucking seconds from leaning down and kissing her right there. Right on that little bump before dragging my nose up into her hair and turning her around to touch her in other places too.
Meow.
My eyes snapped open just as Anya exhaled a quiet laugh. “Hey, Spike. How was your nap?”
The cat sat right in front of us, and when I locked eyes with him over Anya’s shoulder, he narrowed his golden eyes and hissed. Loudly.
I held my hands up. “Sorry, chief. Backing away.”
Anya’s cheeks were flushed pink when she fixed her hair, glancing at me after allowing some distance between us. “He’s not hissing because you were touching me.”
“Sure he was.” I eyed the cat. Didn’t matter if he only had three legs, that asshole would chase me down in a heartbeat if he thought he could do enough damage. “That cat’s a living, breathing cockblock if I’ve ever met one.”
Anya laughed—a happy, tinkling sort of sound. “I should’ve added that to his adoption profile when I was still fostering him.”
“Was he listed as the devil cat back then? Makes sense why you still have him.”
With a shake of her head, Anya scooped the giant orange cat into her arms and smacked a kiss on the top of his head. He nuzzled into her neck, purring immediately.
“I swear, if I tried that, he’d rip my throat out.” Spike looked over at me, his eyes narrow little slits that promised death and retribution. I pointed. “You can’t see his face, but he’s plotting my death right now.”
“Oh, calm down, he is not. Go change. Won’t they be here soon?”
I grimaced. “Yes. I left the front gate unlocked. Milicent knows how to get in; we’ve had to do social media shit here before.” I started stripping off my T-shirt, and Anya ducked her head into Spike’s neck, eyes lingering on my chest for just a moment. “She’s terrifying, by the way. Don’t let her scare you.”
“This is perfect. Ugh, you’re just so gorgeous. That smile is perfect, Anya. Just like that.”
I rolled my eyes as Milicent oohed and aahed over Anya as the crew arranged her on my couch for the perfect shot. They took a few candids of her laughing at whatever the camera guy said, and the flash of that dimple in her cheek had my stomach tight. Next to her, in all his three-legged asshole glory, Spike nuzzled into Milicent’s outstretched palm and purred.
“Do you want the cat in the picture?” Anya asked. “I could put him in the bedroom.”
“Are you kidding me? You adopted a three-legged cat. Of course I want him in the shot.” Milicent snapped her fingers in my direction. “Come on, let’s get you in here.”
“Yeah right, that beast will eat me if I try to sit next to her while he’s around. None of you will be able to stop him either.”
Anya laughed, and even Milicent cracked a smile, jotting something down in her notebook. “Have you always been an animal lover, Anya?”
“As much as anyone, I guess. It wasn’t until middle school that I really got involved in volunteering. I used to go to the shelter closest to our house and walk dogs a couple of afternoons a week.” She scratched under Spike’s chin, and he angled his neck up, leaning into the touch. Not like I could blame him. If Anya did that to me, I’d be purring too. “It always made me sad seeing the older animals get overlooked. The ones like Spike who weren’t cute and little and fun because it took so long for them to find forever homes.”
She dropped a kiss on Spike’s head and set him down on the ground, gently nudging him away from the couch. Milicent directed me to Anya’s left, and I eased onto the couch, stretching an arm out behind her. Her legs were tucked on the cushion, angled toward me. Her knees rested gently against my thigh, her shoulder braced against my chest.
Milicent eyed us shrewdly. “Parker. Set your hand on her thigh instead of having it behind her. More visually interesting.”
I let out a deep breath and did as she asked, ignoring the hammering of my heart as I let my palm rest on the warm skin of Anya’s thigh just by the hem of her dress. My fingers dragged up and down over her skin because if this was real, and she was mine, there’d be no way I’d be able to stop myself.
Anya curled her arm through mine, tucking her body more closely against my chest, and her fingers rested along the top of my arm. I’d put on a white collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up my forearms. The shirt was unbuttoned on the top and paired with some dark jeans. I was happy that Milicent gave me a narrow-eyed look of approval when she walked in.
Milicent moved one of the lights they’d brought, and nodded approvingly at whatever change this brought about. “This isn’t a formal interview for an article, but we’ll use snippets over the next couple of weeks on all platforms. There’s already significant interest in the two of you, so it should do well.”
“Do you want us smiling, or…?” Anya asked.
“We’re just going to talk,” she answered. “Act as normal as possible, and we’ll snap some candids.”
“Totally normal, isn’t it?” I said under my breath.
Anya gave me a sidelong little smirk. The amused look in her eye almost stopped my heart. My lips curled up before I could stop them.
Click.
“God, that’s hot,” Milicent muttered. “Keep looking at each other like that.”
My eyes dropped down to Anya’s mouth, and her lips parted incrementally.
Click.
“Tell me how this happened,” Milicent said, stepping back behind the camera while her crew took almost continuous shots. “People were pretty shocked when the footage came out of you two.”
Anya and I shared another look, and I squeezed her thigh gently. I got this one. She swallowed, her chest rising and falling on a deep breath.
“Anya and I met a few months ago,” I told Milicent. “Through Emmett Ward.”
“At his wedding?”
I nodded, letting my eyes linger over Anya’s features. “She was engaged, so I’m sure it was just a simple conversation to her. But look at her. She’s impossible to forget, isn’t she?”
Anya’s eyes flickered, glancing between mine.
“So you … carried a torch for her this whole time?” Milicent asked.
“No,” I answered honestly. “I was attracted to her almost immediately. But I can set that aside when it’s necessary. Respecting the boundaries of someone’s relationship is important to me. I’d never put someone I cared about in a position where they might compromise their morals. That’s … weak,” I said. “I was raised to respect women, and dishonoring those lines is the opposite of that.”
Milicent’s eyebrows arched slowly. “Shots fired,” she whispered around an amused smile.
I inhaled slowly, glancing over at Anya, who was fighting a huge grin. “Parker saw me with a friend in Vegas. It was kismet that we both happened to be there at the same time.”
“What did you think when you saw her, Parker? Especially knowing she was single.”
“ Finally .”
I said the word without thinking, and Anya’s eyes went slightly wide with shock, but she recovered quickly. “You did?” she asked.
I nodded. “It’s been a rough year. And seeing her there…” I fought to keep myself in check. It rode a fine line; one step too far, and my brain would immediately want to shut down. I fought like hell to stay on the right side of that line. “Like she said. It was kismet. I couldn’t stop myself from taking a chance.”
“But marriage?” Milicent asked. “That’s a hell of a first step.”
Anya licked her bottom lip as she gave me a teasing look. “Seriously. You could’ve just asked me out on a first date.”
I hummed. “What’s the fun in that? Then I wouldn’t have you here all the time.”
Her cheekbones looked so fucking pretty when she blushed. “Good point. Who would pester you at four thirty in the morning when you’re in here making me cinnamon rolls from scratch.”
Milicent made a delighted little sound. “He did what ?”
That fucking minx. Her eyes glinted, and I gave her a mock glare, growling slightly under my breath. “Well, I’m not going to now. You’re not supposed to give away my secrets, wife.”
She grinned. “He has a second career waiting for him when he retires from football, that’s for sure.”
“This guy?” Milicent asked doubtfully.
“Oh yeah,” Anya said. “Best I’ve ever had.”
The double entendre wasn’t lost on anyone in the room, and Milicent smirked. My hand tightened on her thigh, and I licked at my bottom lip without moving my gaze from hers. A camera guy cleared his throat, and I blinked away.
Milicent tapped a pen into her notebook. “Right. Sexual chemistry has firmly been established. Let’s get this back on track, shall we?”
Sure. Tell that to my dick. I thought about algebra again and listened attentively while they made some small talk about Anya’s background.
“Anya, you were telling me about this nonprofit that your friend launched. What’s the extent of your involvement?”
She sat up, and I shifted my arm back behind her shoulders again. This time, Anya laid her hand on my thigh, which did not help anything south of my waist.
“My background is in non-profit management, but I had another job when she got started, so I just wanted to help wherever I could. Packing boxes, sending mailings, making graphics—you name it, I’ve done it. Vida and I met in college, and she had this incredible idea to offer reading support for underprivileged families who can’t afford private therapy to get their kids caught up, whether they’re slow readers or they have dyslexia.” She smiled, doing a slight double take when she saw me listening so attentively. She blinked, refocusing on Milicent.
“My youngest sister, Willa, was diagnosed with dyslexia when she was seven. She had an amazing teacher who recognized the early signs, and my family got her interventions immediately, and she’s reading above her grade level now. It definitely gave our entire family a lot of awareness that we didn’t have before. Vida got her master’s in reading science, and she’s passionate about making sure there’s equal access to the interventions that the kids need, and they won’t be limited by income or school district.” Anya shrugged. “So it’s a lot of education, reaching out to schools and networking with teachers and principals so they can give our information to families needing this kind of help. I help with that too. The kids get two new books every month, parents have access to online tutorials for general tutoring help, as well as a reading curriculum that’s evidenced-based in helping kids exactly like Willa, and right now, Vida is trying to get enough capital to hire a handful of reading specialists that can do virtual therapy sessions on a scholarship basis. No cost to the kids who are approved.”
Milicent had leaned in, forgetting to take notes. “That’s incredible. And a huge undertaking.”
Anya nodded. “It is. Right now, it’s just me, and Vida’s parents, who help out where they can. My family has donated quite a bit, but we’re looking to level up over the next two years, and I can’t wait to see what happens when we do.”
Was my mouth hanging open? I tightened my jaw to make sure it wasn’t because I’d married a freaking saint, hadn’t I?
Milicent gathered herself, then cut me a sly look. “And how much has Parker Wilder pledged to donate to such a worthy cause?”
Anya gave me a quick look. “Oh, we haven’t even really?—”
“Three million dollars,” I said.
I didn’t know how much Anya was getting from her trust. She’d never told me, and honestly, it didn’t fucking matter. This was a place where restraint wasn’t necessary.
Her cheeks flushed a pretty pink, her mouth opening gently. “Parker,” she whispered.
I slid my hand over her shoulder and squeezed. “Vida is amazing, and so is what she’s trying to achieve. I might only catch a ball for a living, but it affords the opportunity to take part in some really incredible projects, doesn’t it?”
Her eyes went glossy, and she glanced down at her lap to gather herself. Then she reached around her shoulder and removed my arm from behind her, sliding her fingers between mine and settling our joined hands on her lap. Her fingers were trembling.
Milicent turned around to talk to the camera guy, Dave, I think was his name.
Anya leaned in to whisper close to my ear. “You don’t have to do that.”
Using my free hand, I gently pushed a piece of hair behind her ear, letting my thumb slide down the graceful line of her jaw. “I want to.” My thumb trailed over to her bottom lip, and I brushed it back and forth. “I forgot to tell you that you look beautiful, didn’t I?”
Eyes a little dazed, Anya nodded.
“What an idiot I was,” I murmured, studying the slope of her cheekbones and the thick fan of her lashes. “The sight of you almost stopped my heart, golden girl.”
Her eyelids fluttered shut, and for a moment, I forgot where we were. That we weren’t alone. That this wasn’t real.
It was just her and me. And I wanted to kiss my wife again more than anything I’d ever wanted in my entire life.
Click.
The sound of the camera broke the moment, and I let out an unsteady exhale.
“I think we’re done here,” Milicent said smoothly.
Anya and I pulled back, and I ran a trembling hand through my hair. “Right,” I said, and fucking hell, it sounded like I’d chewed rusty nails.
Anya gathered herself first, standing from the couch and shaking Milicent’s hand. “Thank you so much. This was great.”
“Thank you ,” Milicent said. “Shoot me the name of Vida’s nonprofit. We usually do highlights on Tuesdays.”
“Of course. She’d be so appreciative.”
Like a dumbass, I sat there, trying to pull my head on straight and get my hard-on under control. Dave and Milicent let themselves out of the house, and I stood slowly while Anya ran a visibly shaking hand over her mouth. Her eyes cut over to mine when the door closed.
For a moment, neither of us said anything.
The air was thick with unspent tension, and its build was blinding, like the walls were closing in on us, closing in on the fantasies I’d been sitting in for days, lifting the hairs along the back of my neck.
I wanted her. It pushed past the limits of reason and logic and that fucking restraint that I’d been trying so hard to master the past ten months. But this wasn’t about numbing out or distracting myself from an ugly truth. It was need. It was want. And oh, how I wanted her. Something to take the edge off the pain. Anything she’d give me.
My hands curled into fists at my side, and with her gaze locked in on that tiny, helpless action, Anya’s chest rose and fell with unsteady breaths, eventually tearing her eyes off my hands, dragging them up my chest to my face.
Thoughts of simple, easy business arrangements went out the fucking window when she looked at me like that. Like if I slid my hand between her legs, I knew exactly how I’d find her.
Wet.
Ready.
Perfect.
“What do you want, golden girl?” I asked in a ragged voice.
There it was, a spotlight on what I wanted.
There was no hiding it now. No pretending I hadn’t been thinking about it on an endless, shameless loop.
Her eyes dropped to my mouth, and I fucking swear, my entire body trembled for how impossible it was to hold myself back.
She sucked in a sharp breath. “Pretend with me? Just for tonight?”
Any thread of sanity, any rational thought of holding back was fucking decimated. I strode over to Anya—blood screaming, heart thundering, and every instinct inside me roaring that this was exactly what we needed—slid my hands into her hair, and crashed my mouth against hers.