Chapter 17
Anya
It was the way he watched me, I decided. I’d never had anyone watch me that way in my entire life. Leo and I were on the couch. I had him stretched out on my thighs while I fastened the buttons on his little sleeper. Before closing the buttons over his little belly, I dipped my head and blew a soft little raspberry against his smooth skin. He was a bit too young to smile or laugh, but he made a cute little grunting sound, and I found myself grinning as I sat back up.
Or tried to until his fist wrapped in my hair pulled me to a dead stop.
“Quite a grip you’ve got there, little lion,” I said, carefully disentangling his shockingly strong fingers.
Across the room, Parker sat in an armchair, legs spread wide, a cup of coffee in his hand, and he watched. He watched while I changed Leo’s diaper. Watched while I made a bottle and fed it to him after we wandered downstairs.
And now, as I smiled down on this adorable little baby who was most likely his kid, he watched that too.
It was probably a hormonal thing—that after great sex, I was biologically programmed to respond to the broody, intense look in his eyes. I didn’t want to because I was still trying to figure out how to handle this guy.
Emotionally, at least.
Physically, I’d been doing just fine with the … handling. A little too good, if I was being honest with myself.
Maybe someone else would’ve been really pissed off at how he reacted the night before, but I couldn’t say I would’ve done much better if someone had dropped a child off in my lap and said surprise! It’s yours .
Brokenhearted, Louise had said. He wore it like fucking armor. Like a shield and a sword, and the more I was around him, I wasn’t sure he knew how to set it down. Not when things got big and intense and real.
I wore mine the same way, but my trigger was worlds away from his.
Listen, I didn’t want to be intrigued by him. I didn’t want to make occasional glances across the family room and feel the undeniable itch of curiosity at the back of my mind when his intense gaze lingered on mine. I didn’t want to feel butterflies in my stomach either. Oh, it was impossible to ignore those after great sex.
I’d read this book once, fun and sexy and flirty, and the hero was this broody, Type A, intense sort of guy, and the plucky, funny heroine said she wanted to juice his head like a lemon, simply to pry the thoughts from his head.
That was how I felt. Parker’s head was locked down so tight, and in the times when he relaxed enough to let something slip, I swear, it gave me a contact high.
Cinnamon rolls and Bob Marley and sex weren’t much of a foundation, but I could say this with the utmost certainty—it was more depth than I saw out of my four-year relationship with Dickhead Bridges.
So I let him watch. I let him drink his coffee and process all those locked-down thoughts he wasn’t ready to share.
One of the things Louise brought was a little bouncer, where I could safely strap in Leo while he was awake. I tickled his foot, smiling when the toes curled up in response, then dropped a kiss on the top of his head. There wasn’t much hair up there, sort of an indistinct feathering of muddy brown that I ran my fingers over lightly as I stood.
I turned into the kitchen and stopped short at the sight of a second mug of coffee on the counter. Parker was still watching me, sipping from his mug with his eyes on mine.
It was still hot when I picked it up, and it looked like he’d put just the right amount of cream in it. After a tentative sip, I gave him a small smile.
“Thank you.”
He grunted.
“Get any sleep last night?” I asked.
Based on the dark circles under his eyes, I didn’t even need him to answer, but he simply shook his head. “Couldn’t shut my brain off.”
“I bet,” I answered lightly. Spike wandered into the room, ignoring Parker and sniffing curiously at the bouncer. Leo was chewing on his fist, his dark gray eyes focused intently on the big orange cat peering down at him.
Parker and I traded a glance, and when Spike nuzzled his head against Leo’s foot, slowly easing his way onto the bouncer so he could curl up around the baby’s legs, my eyebrows shot up.
Then he started purring.
“Shut the fuck up,” Parker whispered.
I burst out laughing. “See? He’s a great judge of character.”
“That fucking cat still hisses at me if I look at him too long.”
I gave Parker a steady look, and he rolled his eyes.
There was a brisk knock on the door, and I narrowed my eyes. “Who’s here so early?”
“Reinforcements,” Parker answered dryly.
I sucked in a sharp breath, praying it wasn’t the cops, but when he swung open the door, and Milicent’s face was there, I let out an equally sharp exhale.
She was all business when she walked into the house, wearing a sleek black leather laptop bag over her arm, a black power suit, and shiny black shoes with a bright red sole. At the sight of the baby, she stopped dead in her tracks, assessing Leo and the cat with a shrewd look in her dark eyes.
“So you weren’t joking?”
Parker scratched the side of his jaw. “Would I joke about someone dropping off a baby at my house?”
“Oh, you’d be surprised. I find that athletes have a strange sense of humor.” She set her bag down, flipping open the clasp to root inside. There was a discreet white box in her hand when she fished it out, and without removing her gaze from the baby, she held the box out to Parker. “Here you go. You swab first, and I’ll do the kid.”
I choked on my coffee.
Parker arched his eyebrow while I tried not to asphyxiate. “You all right over there?”
I managed to swallow, giving him a thumbs-up when I could breathe.
“Is that a paternity test?” I asked incredulously.
“Yes,” Milicent answered.
I blinked. “And you just … have one? It’s six thirty in the morning.”
“I handle publicity for an entire team of professional football players,” she said, completely nonplussed. “I keep a few of these on hand at any given time.”
I shook my head. “All right then.”
“The results won’t hold up in court, but you’ll know,” she said to Parker.
His eyes met mine briefly, and then he turned back to the instructions on the back of the box. Because this was just a normal freaking Thursday for her, Milicent washed her hands in the kitchen sink, then plucked a swab from inside a sterile package, leaning down toward Leo.
Spike let out an angry sound, his ears flattening as she came closer, but Milicent simply arched her brow and stared right back. “Calm down, kitty. I’m not gonna hurt him.”
It seemed to appease the cat, but his golden eyes tracked her every move as she gently swabbed the inside of Leo’s cheek. He squirmed, angling toward the strange item in his mouth, and I grabbed his pacifier from the counter, handing it to Milicent when she finished taking her sample. He latched onto it immediately, and when I smiled, I noticed Parker watching with a muscle bunching above his jaw.
His eyes stayed on the baby for a long moment, and the haunted look in his expression caused a weighted sensation in my stomach. Not unpleasant but not good either.
Everything felt big now. Every interaction consequential.
What did he think when he looked at that precious little face?
The irony of this wasn’t lost on me. The man who didn’t want love, had no intention of making a family, was now stuck at home with a wife and a baby.
And what about me? I did this for a paycheck, and now I had a six-five gifter of orgasms with a dirty mouth and deep emotional wounds, and a stepson as a cute little bonus. I was never going to Vegas again, that was for damn sure.
Parker tucked the swab back inside the sleeve, mimicking what Milicent had done with Leo’s sample. She gave him a polite smile and glanced between us as she packaged everything back up in the box. “The pics of you two went over very well,” she said. “But because of that, and the incredible interest in your relationship, we’ll have to approach this little bundle of joy strategically. Maybe say you decided to adopt quickly, or he’s the kid of a family friend …”
“We tell the truth,” he said firmly. His eyes were still on Leo. “If he’s mine, I’m not lying about what happened.”
A warm sensation bled out from the center of my chest, seeping into my limbs until my fingers curled.
Milicent gave him a brisk nod. “You’re the boss. You said you’re leaving shortly, correct?”
Parker cut me a brief, intense look. Anything we’d dealt with so far was child’s play compared to walking into his family home, pretending to be married, and now with his surprise child in hand.
“Heading home to see my family, yeah.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And how are we breaking the news to them?”
Parker blew out a slow breath. “Hopefully, I’ll figure that out before we get there.”
It wasn’t until Parker yanked the steering wheel, navigating his truck off the side of the road with a sharp jerk that I even realized I was staring.
I blinked over at him. “What are you doing? Aren’t we almost there?”
His eyes didn’t move from mine. “See those two mailboxes past the trees?”
I cut a look in that direction. “Yes.”
“That’s home.”
“Oh.” I cleared my throat. “And are we going to arrive there at any point in the near future? Leo will be waking up soon, and he’ll need to be fed and …”
“Why are you staring at me?”
“I wasn’t .”
Lies.
My tone was so friggin defensive, I could practically see the bullshit response in the smug way he smiled. “Whatever you say, wife.”
With a huff, I crossed my arms. “I’m a little confused, okay? We’re three minutes from your family home, we have a kid in the back seat that no one knows about, we had sex yesterday and haven’t spoken a word about it, and if I thought you were hard to figure out before both of those things, it is nothing on trying to figure you out now.”
Apparently, almost three hours in the car with no conversation had annihilated my verbal filter. It wasn’t even uncomfortable silence. Leo slept like a freaking champ, and Parker had a classic rock station playing in the background, just loud enough that the low humming of his voice had me strung tighter than a bowstring.
Parker’s wrist hung over the top of the steering wheel, his gaze steely and unreadable. “What’s confusing you, wife?”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Why? That’s what you are.” He held up his ring finger, and the gold band glinted mockingly in the sun. “Have the paperwork and everything. And I’m guessing in about seven business days, you’ll have a big fat check in your bank account to go right along with it. What more could you possibly want out of me?”
Fine. He wanted to be flippant? I felt the hot flare of challenge under my skin, like he’d waved a red flag right in front of the proverbial bull. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a war raged between wanting to kiss him, mount him in the driver’s seat, and smack the bejeezus out of his handsome face.
All I’d done since I woke up in his bed was try to untangle my impossibly knotted thoughts.
Him. Me. Leo. Our families. And now … everything else. Everyone else.
Something devastating happened when you found yourself in a position where you couldn’t trust your own judgment. It led to questions. To doubts. My entire life, I’d been a decisive person. I knew what I wanted, and it wasn’t hard to jump straight into whatever that was.
For years, I stopped jumping. I stopped acting when I should have taken a step forward. There were always reasons. We could always justify our choices at the moment. That was the easy part, telling yourself a story about why you acted the way you did. And as long as you weren’t hurting anyone, then it was simplified further. It didn’t require nearly as much self-reflection.
But each small internal shift chipped away at something fundamental until you could hardly recognize who you’d become. I wanted to shove that truth into a locked box too, keep it out of reach so I didn’t have to try to answer all those hard questions.
Doubts, to someone like me, felt a little bit like failure. If I couldn’t trust my own gut instinct, what then? It felt like I never would again.
Should I have knocked some sense into him when the baby showed up? Maybe. Maybe not.
Should I have let him take me to bed? Unlikely. Not if I wanted to come out of this with my heart intact. The questions, the doubts, the second-guessing, it was endless like I was running on one of those hamster wheels that never really got me anywhere.
Kiss him. Don’t kiss him. Give him space. Figure him out. Figuring him out was one short freaking step away from trying to help. To fix. And Parker Wilder wasn’t mine to fix, but it was hard to remember that when he looked so lost.
But that haunted look, the lost look, the I know what you feel like from the inside look didn’t mean he wasn’t capable of really pissing me off. Like now.
Unhooking my seat belt, I angled sideways, resting my knee on the console separating us. “You’re like Jekyll and Hyde,” I said. “One minute, you’re flirty and arrogant and using your”—I waved my hand at his face—“fuck-me eyes like a weapon.” Those eyes heated instantly, and I jabbed a finger in the air. “Yeah, see? That right there. Not the time, buddy, and I am not in the mood.”
He sighed, swiping a hand over his face. When the eyes were closed, I could breathe a little easier. “And then what? If that’s Jekyll, who’s Hyde?”
I sighed too, a matching sound laced with frustration. “You go all quiet. Broody. Intense. It’s like you’re walking around with a storm cloud parked right over your head, and if anyone stands in your proximity, a stray bolt of lightning will come shooting straight out and electrocute whoever gets too close.”
Parker’s eyebrow arched wryly. “That sounds like one of your drawings.”
My mouth fell open because dammit , an idea unfurled almost immediately. “I … yeah, maybe. But that’s not the point.” I cursed under my breath, yanking my phone out of my purse. “Hang on, let me write that down.”
He smiled, so fucking smug, and yup, I wanted to smack him again. When I finished typing up a note in my phone, which I prayed made sense later, I set my phone down and gave him a pleading look.
“If we’re going to do this”—I gestured at the two mailboxes—“if we’re going to try to fool your entire family, I need to know when I’m getting one or the other. At your house? No problem. I can give you space and let you ignore your feelings all you want.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.” He had the gall to look offended. Like I hadn’t watched him do it almost daily since this whole little matrimony thing took over our lives.
“Whatever you say, husband.” It was the verbal equivalent of a patronizing little pat, pat, pat on the head, and based on the annoyed look in his eyes, he fucking knew it. “If you feel yourself shutting down, or it’s too much, maybe … maybe give me a sign. Or we could have a code or something.” His fingers drummed restlessly on the steering wheel, and I sat up straight. “Like that. Lay your hand on my leg or the back of my neck and tap three times.”
Parker gave me a dubious look. “You think that’s enough?”
“It’s something.” I pinched my eyes shut and struggled to find the right words. “With Leo showing up, we haven’t been able to talk about … about what happened yesterday.”
“I know.” He sighed. “I know we need to, it’s just?—”
“It’s a lot,” I finished.
He nodded.
“For me too,” I told him. “It’s not just us anymore. The simple business arrangement feels really freaking complicated, doesn’t it?”
Parker let out a huff of quiet laughter. “Yeah.” His eyes lingered on my face. “It was good, though, Anya. It was really fucking good. I hope you know that.”
Memories of him inside me made my skin tight and achy, and I let out a slow, unsteady breath. “It was,” I agreed. “But maybe …”
When my voice trailed off, he said the thing I didn’t really want to say. Today, at least, Parker was doing one of the hard things. “Maybe we shouldn’t.”
I could practically hear the incensed wail of my lady parts because they really, really thought we should. But my head, and my heart, they hit the mute button on those baser desires really fucking quick.
“We’ll have to have some touching,” I told him. “In front of your family, at least.” Lord, I could hardly breathe through the sexual tension strung tight between us, and that muscle ticked in his jaw again, so he must have been feeling it too. “But look, at least we know we can sell them on our physical attraction, right?” His eyes dropped down to my mouth, back up a heartbeat later, and I pushed down the responding flip in my belly. I took a risk and grabbed his hand, moving it over to my thigh like we’d done at the photo shoot. “All the other stuff, though. Just give me a signal. I know this is a lot. Me and Leo and you’re trying to convince your family that you’re fine.” His hand tightened briefly, and that flip in my belly grew larger, hotter, far more dangerous. “But you’re not fine, and it’s obvious to anyone with working eyeballs. I can’t look like I’m just as lost as they are when you change masks.”
Parker’s eyes were searing, and I could practically see the words that he didn’t know how to say. His jaw tightened, and when it unclenched, he pushed his tongue into the side of his cheek. “They’re not masks,” he said in a ragged voice. “They both feel real. One is more like the old me. When everything was easy. And the other is, I don’t know, it’s just … sometimes I feel like there’s this invisible minefield in my chest. Someone says something, or I think something, and …” He settled his free hand over his heart, spreading his fingers wide. “And right here, it’s like a bomb goes off, and I can’t stop it.”
I knew that feeling. I knew it so damn well.
That was when I locked things up and threw away the fucking key.
My throat was tight as I nodded. “Okay. I can handle that. As long as you don’t lash out if I accidentally set one off.”
His eyes searched mine. “I won’t.”
My chest felt lighter than it had since I found the baby, and I let out a slow exhale. “Okay. Let’s see how this goes, huh?”
Parker’s hand tightened on my thigh, and I could see the apprehension in his expression as he pulled the truck past the two mailboxes and down a long, winding driveway.
Emmett had told me about this place, a ton of land tucked back off the road, a main log cabin home where Sheila Wilder lived, and two others set apart on their acreage. One small home for guests, and another where Parker’s brother Cameron lived with his fiancée Ivy.
The drive in was magical—rows and rows of fir trees lined the property on either side of the long road, and I stared up at them through the truck window as we reached a clearing that opened up to a two-story log home with a rock fireplace in the middle. A big, welcoming front porch wrapped around, and tall windows flanked a large front door, warm light spilling from every single one. Behind the house a ways was a barn, painted bright red with crisp white trim. Two cats lay on the ground in front of the open doors, and some chickens pecked at the ground by the side of the house.
On the front porch were two stout planters, white and red and pink flowers spilling over the sides. Two sets of rocking chairs were on either side of the front door, and in one sat Sheila Wilder, just as I remembered her from Emmett and Adaline’s wedding. She had short, no-nonsense hair—a graying color that probably used to be brown, and a kind face that absolutely lit up at the sight of Parker’s truck.
Now I was staring at him because his face transformed into something heart-wrenching.
He loved this woman so much, and he was terrified to get out of the car because of the sleeping little angel in the back seat.
“She will adore him,” I said quietly.
Parker pinched his eyes shut. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he whispered. When he opened his eyes, he slid his hand on my thigh.
Tap, tap, tap.
At the movement of his fingers on my leg, my heart squeezed in my chest, and I wove my fingers through his. Parker probably didn’t even realize it, but he’d just verbalized his own fears, framed as Sheila’s and the truth of it sat heavy in the base of my throat, a knot of emotion so thick that I couldn't swallow it down.
What had I gotten myself into?
Sheila came down the stairs, then paused to call over her shoulder. A very pregnant young woman appeared in the doorway with long, dark hair and a wide smile. Parker let out a slow breath. “Oh goodie, we have witnesses.”
“That’s Poppy, right?” I asked.
He nodded. “God, she’s gonna cry. And then she’s gonna call all my sisters and my brothers, and make us do a family meeting, and they’ll all cry, and I’m gonna lose my shit.”
I exhaled a laugh. “We can do this,” I assured him. “Come on. This one will be the hardest.”
“Wanna bet?” he muttered but pulled the handle to exit the truck anyway.
Sheila walked forward, wrapping Parker in a massive hug, even though he completely dwarfed her smaller frame. He set his chin on the top of her head, and oh, it was horrible what the sight of that hug did to me.
“Goodness,” she said, pulling back with shining eyes. “I’m so happy you’re here, I can’t even tell you.” She turned to me and clasped her hands to her chest. “Oh honey, aren’t you beautiful? Parker, she’s so beautiful.”
“Yeah, I’d like an explanation of how you managed that,” Poppy said.
Parker rolled his eyes.
“Anya, if you’re not a hugger, you might want to let it be known now,” Poppy said with a smile. “This family has zero concept of personal space.”
I laughed. “I love hugs, so I should be okay.”
The words hardly left my mouth, and I too was wrapped up in the arms of Sheila Wilder. For a small woman, she hugged with her entire being. She smelled soft and warm, and I felt the love pouring off that woman like she was drenched in it. When she pulled back, she didn’t even attempt to hide the tears. Her hands cupped my face. “How on earth did he get you to agree to marry him?”
“I’m right here,” Parker said.
Poppy elbowed him.
Instead of answering, I gave Parker a pointed look. “I’m sure we can talk about that over lunch. But, umm, Parker? Do you want to get him, or should I?”
Sheila tilted her head. “Who, dear?”
“Oh my gosh, did you guys get a puppy?” Poppy gasped. “Please tell me it’s a puppy.”
Parker grimaced. “So close, Pops.”
Because I didn’t think Parker would know how to unhook the car seat from where it was locked into the base, I gave him a quick look and opened the back door to the truck, leaning up on my toes to be able to reach into the center of the bench in the back seat.
My heart rolled over because Leo was just waking up, his forehead wrinkled as he yawned. “Here we go, buddy,” I whispered.
I came around the side of the truck with the car seat in my hand, and Sheila went stock-still. Poppy’s mouth fell open.
“What the hell is that?” Poppy whispered.
“Some people call it a baby,” Parker said slowly. Poppy leveled him with a fierce glare. I elbowed Parker in the stomach, and he muttered a curse underneath his breath. “Sorry,” he told his sister. “I think I’m having an inappropriate stress response at the moment.”
She gave him a look. “You think?”
Parker swallowed, pulling in a deep breath before he turned to Sheila. She couldn't take her eyes off the baby.
“Mom, this is Leo,” Parker said.
Sheila’s face had drained of color, and she blinked up at her stepson’s face. “Is he… is he yours?”
Parker and I traded a look, and I smiled a little.
“I don’t know yet,” he answered honestly, “but we should tomorrow.” Then he paused. “It’s likely, though, yeah.”
She sucked in a shaky breath and crouched in front of the car seat, deftly unhooking the straps latched in front of his chest. Her eyes were determined, even full of unshed tears. Behind her, Poppy stood with one hand over her very pregnant belly, the other hand over her mouth.
Sheila let out a small Ohh sound when she pulled Leo out of the car seat. He scrunched up his body, then stretched with a tiny groan.
“Hello, Leo,” she said quietly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, young man.”
Then she stood and tucked him against her chest. The smile on Sheila’s face was just love. Pure, perfect love.
Parker wrapped a hand around the back of my neck, and my eyes fluttered shut at the firm hold.
Tap, tap, tap.
When I glanced up at him, his eyes were slightly red. Moving on instinct, I wrapped my arm around his waist and squeezed.
Poppy let out a harsh breath. “Holy shit, I’m going to start filming when everyone else arrives.”