14. Chapter 14
Chapter fourteen
Laiken
It’s Friday.
One week down.
Almost one full week of spending two grueling hours a day as close as one can get to Parker Stillwater.
My hands have touched almost every part of him, and I’ve practically popped every blood vessel I have trying to appear unaffected.
To appear casual yet professional. Cool and collected.
Dodging his attempts at dredging up memories and directing every touch to the professional zone.
His muscles are bigger. Sturdier than they used to be.
His body is strong, and those tattoos are a hazardous distraction.
Only five more weeks and he’s gone.
That’s the only thing holding me together. That and the fact he shattered my heart beneath his dirty boots without a care in the world.
I have just dropped off Trace and was pulling into my driveway to prepare for today’s session. My eyes squint against the morning sun.
“What the heck?” I mumble as I park my SUV next to Micky Mack’s truck.
Along with three other plumbing trucks.
When I climb out of my car, Micky approaches.
“Morning. We’re here to get started. It would be better for you and Trace to stay somewhere else until next week. We should have this wrapped up by next Thursday or Friday.”
I blink. “I’m sorry. I thought we discussed six weeks.” I motion a hand to the house. “I can’t pay for this right now.”
He nods. “Actually, the invoice has been covered.”
“Been covered?” I repeat, narrowing my eyes.
“Yeah. In full.” He braces his hands on his hips, his eyes glancing back at the house.
“By who?” I question.
He scratches his chin, and I can tell by his hesitation I won’t like this answer. “Uhhh, you know, maybe you should hash this out with him.”
Him.
Call it a sixth sense, but I have an inkling of who he is.
“Thanks, Micky.” I turn to my SUV. “I’ll be back.”
I’m once again barreling up the gravel drive of the Mayson Ranch because a certain bull rider thinks he can meddle in my business.
I pass the main house, waving at Ruthie, who’s sitting on the front porch in a rocking chair.
I make a mental note to stop by and say hi after I’ve shoved my tennis shoe up Parker’s firm behind.
Slinging gravel, I come to a stop in front of the barn, and like he can sense my arrival, the cocky cowboy steps out into the sunshine, shirtless.
And barefoot.
God really is testing me today.
I shove open the door and stomp across the yard.
“Morning,” he rasps, running a hand through his damp hair.
I avoid his torso and glare at his handsome face.
“What in the world are you doing?” I snap as I storm toward him.
“Well, I just showered and heard someone hauling ass to the barn.” He grins. “Pleasant surprise.”
I scoff. “I mean, what are you doing getting in the middle of my business?”
“You’ll have to be more specific, Laiken. It’s early.”
My fists clench. “You paid to have my plumbing fixed. Why?”
He crosses his arms. “You need running water.”
“And I will get it. With my own money.”
“You mean the money you get for doing my rehab?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. He’s impossible. And sort of right.
“Call it an advance. Stop being stubborn, Laik. Let me help.” He lifts his palms like it’s just an innocent gesture.
Nothing about him is innocent. Which is the only logical reason I spit out my next words like a jealous schoolgirl.
“And how does your wife feel about you shelling out seven grand to help some other woman in need?”
He drops his hands, his eyes flaring as he takes a brisk step toward me. I didn’t realize how long of a stride he has. He’s right in front of me. So close I can smell the fresh shampoo scent on his hair. See the tattoos wrapping around his bicep.
Wait…is that…
“Look at me.”
The sternness in his voice has my gaze snapping up to his.
“There is only one woman who will ever hold that title and it sure as fuck isn’t Tori Jackson.” His words are low, the truth ringing loud and clear.
The honesty in his eyes matches his declaration. He’s not playing.
“And who would that be?” I sass.
Do I really want to know? Probably some buckle bunny groupie if it isn’t her.
Before he can respond, a voice from behind me breaks the moment.
“Everything all right out here?” Emmett, Ivy’s dad, a staple in Mayson Ridge, smirks with Ruthie by his side.
“Everything is fine, Unc. Just clearing a few things up,” Parker answers with confidence.
“Laiken, how’s that little cowboy?” Ruthie asks as she steps over to hug me.
“He’s good.” I give her a gentle squeeze, still trying to dissect Parker’s words.
There is only one woman who will ever hold that title.
“You’re coming to the branding day tomorrow, right?” Ruthie asks as she grabs Parker next.
We come every year. It’s Trace’s favorite event besides the Mayson County rodeo. But usually it’s Parker-free. Not this year.
“Of course.” I smile. “You need help with the food?”
“If you don’t mind. Ivy and Dakota will be helping as well, but Ivy can’t do much lifting now.”
“I’ll be here ready for duty.” I salute.
She chuckles before she and Emmett continue their journey to the office next to the barn.
After they get a safe distance, Parker slips a finger under my chin, tilting my face. The move is so achingly familiar I actually let him do it. “I want to make your life easier, Firefly. Not harder. Let me do that.”
Gah, I hate when he melts me.
Before I do something stupid like remember how much I love him, I step away.
“Fine. But I’m paying you back,” I quip as I rip open the door to my car.
He shakes his head. “It’s already your money, Laiken. See you in an hour.”
Happy Freaking Friday.
Then
I sit on the front porch of my house, a stack of postcards in my hand.
It’s been four long months since I’ve seen Parker.
He’s been on the road, working toward his dream of making the Pbr.
I want nothing but the best for him, and I’m his biggest cheerleader.
He sends me a postcard from every town he visits, telling me how much he misses me.
How he wishes I were with him. Maybe when I graduate, we can make that a reality, but right now I need him here. With me.
My heart is broken. My family is in shambles while my father is currently at the Mayson County mortuary.
I need him.
And the reason I’m unconditionally in love with him is because when I called this morning in brutal tears, he dropped everything, left a rodeo states away, and was on the way to Mayson Ridge.
Headlights finally bleed through the trees ahead a little after midnight, and just the sight of his truck makes me want to break down and cry.
I place the stack of postcards down on the step, pushing to my feet as he parks in the drive.
When his door opens, I pick up my pace and launch into a jog.
He slams the door, his eyes already on me as I cross to him.
“Firefly.” His voice catches with emotion.
With a leap, I fly toward him, my chest meeting his as my arms wrap around his neck.
A sob rips from my throat, the comfort of his arms and the heartbreak of my loss overwhelming me.
I sag against him, my body weak from the tears and little sleep.
He lifts me up, wrapping my legs around his waist as I sob into his neck.
A palm glides along my back, his voice soft as he whispers in my ear.
“I’m here, baby.” He soothes. “I got you.”
He walks to the tailgate, drops it down, then places me gently on the cool metal.
I sniff, bringing my eyes to his. “He’s gone.”
His thumbs brush beneath my eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
He presses a kiss to my forehead as tears stream down my face. “What do you need?”
I lace his fingers with mine. “Just be here with me?”
He brings our conjoined hands up to his mouth and drops a kiss on my knuckles. “I’m not going anywhere.”