Chapter nine
Parker
I’m sitting on the couch, my feet kicked up, my chest bare. The only sound in the loft is the low voices from the TV. Lonesome Dove plays, my tribute to Augustus. Rest in peace, Robert Duvall. This movie will never be the same.
I’m about to call it a night when my phone buzzes on the coffee table next to my empty bowl of cereal. I swipe the screen, surprise etching over my face at the words I see and the fact Laiken still has the same phone number.
Firefly: Hello Parker. This is Laiken Sheppard, your physical therapy technician who will be assisting you in your rehabilitation plan for the next six weeks.
I’m reaching out to confirm our appointment time and location for tomorrow.
At our first session we can schedule out all remaining appointments through the duration of the six weeks to maximize our time.
If you have any questions please feel free to ask.
If I cannot provide an answer I will reach out to Dr. Whitaker.
I look forward to working with you and hope for a successful rehabilitation. Thank you.
A laugh barks from my chest at her formal approach. As if we’re complete strangers and I don’t know every single freckle on this woman’s body.
My favorite one being the one at the corner of her lip. I shake my head, thumbing a reply.
Parker: Why the formalities? We’re already well acquainted.
I wait, my heart pounding.
Firefly: This is a professional relationship. Not a personal one. Please respond with time and location.
Shots fired.
Parker: 9:00. Loft at the Mayson Ranch.
Firefly: See you then.
Parker: Dream sweet, Firefly.
My eyes hold on the words. The words I’ve written to her more times than I can count.
Firefly: Do not call me that.
Parker: What should I call you?
Firefly: Try my government name. Has anyone ever told you that you’re insufferable?
Parker: Now that’s not very professional.
I smile, knowing I’d break her. But her final text comes through and another laugh erupts from my chest.
Firefly: Eat s**t, Parker.
She can’t even curse in a text.
Fuck, I missed her.
I watch the clock on the old microwave. Ten minutes. If I know her, she’ll be here in five. Always early. Considerate. Worried about everyone else. About making an impression.
I sip my black coffee while pouring a cup for her. I add the vanilla creamer, three sugars, and a spoonful of caramel. Do I still know her coffee by heart? Yes.
Even after seven years, I can still practically taste the caramel on her lips from the last time I kissed her.
Five minutes.
A knock sounds and I smile as I set my cup on the counter, then amble over to the door.
I take a deep breath before opening it, revealing the woman who has no idea how much she means to me.
Her hair is pulled back, her blue eyes bright against her skin.
She looks gorgeous. I scan my eyes over her scrubs, the lavender color making my lips twitch. Her favorite color.
“Are you going to invite me in or just stand there staring?”
Her voice snaps me out of my daze. I shift to the right, waving my hand. “Come on in.”
She steps past me, one hand clutching a bag slung over her shoulder, and surveys the space. I close the door, waiting for any sign of reaction. This loft holds memories. Ones I could never forget. Her eyebrows furrow when she lands her gaze on the couch. The very one that held our first kiss.
She clears her throat, tearing her eyes away.
Ah, there it is. She remembers.
“We will need to move that.” She motions to the couch.
She can’t even say it.
“The couch?” I ask, crossing my arms.
“Yep.” She pilfers through her bag. “We need an open space for your exercises.”
“Give me a sec.” I cross the room, then tip my chin in the direction of the kitchen. “Your coffee is on the counter. Drink while I do this.”
Her hands still. “You made me coffee?”
“Even has caramel.”
She stands up. “You don’t need to make my coffee.”
“Why not?” I widen my stance, shoving the couch across the old wood floors.
“I’m not here for a coffee date.”
“When have I ever taken you on a coffee date?” I ask with a chuckle.
Her glare has me rising to my full height.
“There is nothing between us but this patient/provider status. Let’s not stroll down memory lane. The view is overrated.”
Damn, Firefly.
“Not the way I remember it,” I comment, taking a step toward her.
She rips her eyes from mine, her hands diving back into her bag with purpose. “I barely remember those summers, Parker. We were children.”
She whips out a couple of bands, the rubber tangling together as she fumbles them with frustration. I stare at her with amusement, my arms crossing as I watch her squirm. She remembers. I know she does. The stain on her cheeks gives her away. It always has.
With taut shoulders, she turns to face me. “Wipe the smirk off your face, Parker, and get down on your knees.”
I drop my arms, a twitch appearing behind my zipper at her command, along with the memory of all the times this woman has brought me to my knees.
Taking a large stride, I do exactly what I’m told and kneel on the wood floor right at her feet before I meet her eyes and quip. “Yes, ma’am.”
Then
“What do you need to show me?” Laiken stands in the center of the loft, her blue eyes waiting.
We went to the Fourth of July parade with the entire crew today, then spent the afternoon swimming at the tank.
I’ve watched Laiken Sheppard prance around this ranch for weeks, smiling and cheerful.
Her beauty, added in with her pure heart, calls to me.
I crave it. Maybe it’s because I never had much of it.
My mom tries, but it’s hard to have a peaceful home when you have a man like my dad around.
I find a peace I’ve found nowhere else when I’m in her presence, and I want more.
“You can see the fireworks from that back window. The ones from the Bernard place.”
“I love fireworks.” She beams.
She smiles wide and my chest feels tight.
She’s the only girl I’ve ever felt this way around. None of the girls back home catch my attention. They try.
“I know.” I point to the window. “Look.”
She spins, her red dress twirling with the movement, offering me a glance at her lean legs. This is the first time we’ve been alone. Just the two of us. No eyes close by.
Cooper had to give Kota a ride home and Ivy went to her room after she had a big fight with Brady. So it’s just me and Laiken. Finally.
“So pretty,” she whispers as the sparks of color fill the dark sky.
I walk up behind her. “Yeah, they are.” I hesitate but decide it’s now or never to shoot my shot. “Not as pretty as you, though.”
She glances over her shoulder, a smirk on her pink lips. “Parker Stillwater. Are you flirting with me?”
I bark out a laugh, a blush staining my cheeks. What kind of teenage boy blushes?
“I’m trying to,” I admit. “Is it working?”
“Maybe,” she murmurs.
We stand at the window, watching the fireworks light up the ranch until the very last spark dies. My hand is casually resting against my jeans, twitching at the need to hold her hand. I jolt when her soft skin brushes against mine, and she bravely laces our fingers together.
A breath of relief filters from my mouth, and I squeeze her hand in response.
“Let’s sit.” She ducks her head before yanking me toward the couch.
I follow, my chest proudly puffed out at the fact the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen is holding my hand. We drop onto the worn sofa, still hand in hand.
The silence is thick. Tension burning as we sit in the dark, wondering what happens next.
“Laiken?”
“Yeah.”
I turn my head, ready to confess something I’ve been holding onto for weeks. “I really want to kiss you.”
She meets my eyes, her own sparkling. “Then why haven’t you?”
“I’m only here for the summers.”
“So?”
“Well…”
“Do you plan on kissing anyone else while you’re here?” She lifts a copper brow.
“No.”
I don’t plan on kissing anyone else, period.
“Good. Then shut up and kiss me.”
That’s all it takes.
One kiss, and I am done for.