Chapter 11 #3
“Why would she want us to spend time together?” He wrinkles his nose as he says it, like she’s suggested we do something disgusting, like a spit handshake or chew a piece of gum from the underside of the bar.
The stool I’m sitting on is tall, but I still have to look up to meet his eye. This close, I can see the dark stubble lining his jaw and upper lip. There are bare patches on either side of his mouth, probably why he doesn’t grow it out completely. But I find it oddly … endearing.
“Because she knows I never like the people she hires, and … for whatever reason, she thinks you’re different.”
He’s looking at me closely, frowning like he’s trying to figure something out. “Why don’t you like the people she hires?”
“Historically speaking? They haven’t been the nicest people.
Look, Tabitha is like my favorite person in the whole world.
She’s kind, generous, and will give you the benefit of the doubt even when you’ve done nothing to deserve it.
I don’t like seeing people take advantage of her big heart.
So, there’s a slight chance that—based on years of well-earned prejudice—I may have expected you to be as bad as all the others.
But …” I admit, grudgingly, “You seem like you care about the farm. And you have stuck around longer than anyone else, which says a lot about you. My guess is, she thinks that if we spend more time together, I’ll see you’re a decent person. ”
He studies me closely while I speak, though it’s impossible to guess his thoughts. “How likely would you say that is?”
“I don’t know. Thirty is kind of young to have a stroke, but I’m sure it happens.”
He ducks his head as he laughs, trying to hide it.
Damn Tabitha and whatever voodoo she used to make this happen.
Before I can suss out what this means, Sam is back and the three of us fall into easy conversation.
Parker lets us do most of the talking, but I can tell he’s comfortable around Sam.
There’s an ease between us that wasn’t there before.
His posture is relaxed, and he’s smiling more tonight than he has the whole time I’ve known him.
He hasn’t moved away from me either, distracting me by standing a few inches to my right and nursing a beer as Sam entertains us with stories about his college buddies.
“So, beautiful, what brings you to our humble town?” Sam asks, rolling the base of his beer bottle in a circle on the bar to his right.
Parker glares at his friend for the compliment, which rolls off Sam’s tongue like he’s said it a million times before. I don’t mind, but it doesn’t send heat pooling in my core, not like the mere nearness of Parker’s arm, which hasn’t touched me in over an hour.
“A string of record-breaking bad luck,” I deadpan, draining the last of my amaretto sour. “Where should we start? The failed business, or getting dumped?”
This piques their interest, and I find myself explaining the whole story—everything except the DNA kit part.
That feels too personal to share, not to mention I’m not even sure how to describe it.
I’m looking at Sam, but paying close attention to Parker in my periphery, though he doesn’t seem to react.
He’s back to frowning, his factory default.
“And there was some family stuff too … but that’s the gist of it,” I finish vaguely, lifting the glass to my lips again before I realize it’s already empty. I lower it to my lap. “Tabitha’s letting me crash for a while until I decide what’s next.”
Sam holds his hand up. “Hold up. You’re telling me your boyfriend bailed on you while you were having the worst day of your life?” He exchanges a look with Parker, who looks equally murderous. “Where the hell did you find that chump?”
“We met on New Year’s Eve last year. Caleb was a club promoter, and I was doing a marketing campaign for a new line of flavored Vodka.
” My eyes widen at the memory. Despite hating the product, I put so much time and energy into that campaign—one of the many things I poured my creativity into that I never cared about.
How did I ever consider that success? And yet, that’s what’s waiting for me as soon as I can bring myself to get back to it.
I take a swig of my drink, choosing to drown the knowledge in alcohol for now.
Sam props his elbows on the table. “I know I just met you, but I feel like it’s my job to tell you that you deserve better than that absolute tool. Right, Parker?”
“Caleb wasn’t a bad guy,” I say, replying so Parker isn’t forced to answer the question.
“We fit into each other’s lives when we met, and then when everything happened with my business falling through and finding out my dad—” I stop myself short.
That was dangerously close to revealing TMI, and based on the curious looks I’m getting from both the guys, they know it too.
I set my drink on the table, figuring I should slow down unless I want them to know all my deepest, darkest secrets before the night is through.
“Let’s just say I had some personal stuff going on.
“Anyway, I didn’t fit into his life anymore and it turned out he wasn’t willing to rearrange his stuff to make me fit.
Which is fine, you know? I don’t want someone to force me into their life.
That wouldn’t be fair to either one of us.
Honestly, with everything else going on, I’ve hardly thought about him.
I’m not sad about the breakup, which makes me think I didn’t make room for him in my life, either. ”
My cheeks go warm as I feel their gazes focus on me.
“Yeah, well, I think you’re better off,” Sam tells me, glancing at Parker. “Having someone around who doesn’t want to be there isn’t worth it. I’d rather be let down once by someone leaving than let down over and over again. People can be around and still never show up, you know?”
Parker avoids his friend’s gaze, instead holding his hand out for my empty glass. “Can I get you another?” he asks.
I wait for him to follow it with an insult about me being a pampered Princess, but it never comes. “Um … sure. Thank you.”
He holds my gaze for a beat, then nods and slips away, leaving the space beside me drafty and empty.
After finally having an honest conversation with Parker tonight, something in how he looks at me has shifted. It’s almost like I have more to offer than he thought … like he’s finally giving me the benefit of the doubt.
I watch him leave, the two of us standing quietly for more than what would be considered a natural pause, when I realize it’s not for lack of things to talk about—Sam’s watching me with a knowing look on his face that makes me instantly uncomfortable.
I direct the focus back to him. “So, have you always worked for your dad?”
His expression changes quickly. It’s a flicker, but for a brief moment, his happy expression since I met him falters to something more serious than I thought he was capable of.
Sam edges closer, one hand in his pocket, the other clutching a nearly empty beer bottle.
“Uh, no. That was always the plan when my dad opened the garage, but I wanted to do something important.” He shakes his head, like he’s annoyed with himself for the thought.
“Turns out working for a big organization isn’t as meaningful as I thought, so I went back.
I like doing something that makes a difference. Help people, you know?”
I nod. “Your dad must be happy to have you back.”
He chuckles, looking more than a little uncomfortable. “Not so much. He, uh … thinks it’s only a matter of time before I end up leaving again. I’m hoping to convince him eventually that I’m sticking around, but … well. Our relationship is complicated.”
I place my hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. I know what that’s like, and it sucks.”
Sam’s gaze drifts down to where my hand is on his arm. “Look, I’m sorry about earlier … if I came on a little strong? It’s just … I couldn’t tell if anything was going on between you two and if there was—Parker sometimes needs a little push to go after things that he wants.”
I snatch my hand away, nearly choking on my drink. “Oh—no, there’s definitely nothing going on,” I say quickly.
He arches an eyebrow at me and grins. “I beg to differ. I know Parker—about as well as anyone can, anyway—and the fact that you’re here right now, in his world … well. It’s big.”
There’s an uncomfortable fluttering in my chest, and I rush to correct him. “Honestly, before tonight, we could barely stand to be in the same room. I mean it—this is what us tolerating each other looks like.”
He chuckles. “Well, in that case, hopefully I can find someone who will tolerate me like you tolerate him. I’m happy for him.
I know he seems like he’s got a tough shell, but underneath that, he’s a good guy.
” Something else flickers across his face briefly, and when he speaks again, the playful edge is gone.
“Just be gentle with him, will you? He’s been let down a fair bit. I’d hate to see him get hurt.”
His concern is sweet and seems genuine. Who knew Parker was the bromance type?
“I think you’re giving ‘the talk’ to the wrong girl,” I say after a moment, pointing a finger towards the bar.
Sam follows my sightline to where Parker’s standing, deep in conversation with a bartender with raven hair running straight down her back.
I caught sight of her earlier tonight, and it felt like she was sizing me up.
Now I think I have a better idea why, though I’m no closer to understanding the sick feeling swirling in my belly.
Maybe the acid reflux is just a side-effect of the drink I downed far more quickly than I intended.
“Oh, that’s Cass. She’s his brother’s girl. Or … ex-girl, I guess … He—”
“It’s none of my business,” I say quickly.
Now that the ice between Parker and me seems to be broken (or at least, thawing), finally, something about playing his friend for personal information about him feels wrong.
So, I ignore my curiosity, at least for now—about as hard as I’m ignoring the beautiful woman he’s leaning over the bar to talk to.
Their conversation doesn’t look flirtatious, but it does look intimate.
I tamp my pesky curiosity into a box and cram it deep into the don’t care section of my brain.
Turning my focus back to Sam, I tell myself to do what I set out to do tonight and have a good damn time, with or without Parker.