Chapter 25
Tabitha falls instantly in love with my idea.
The more I tell her about the things I’d thought of to make the final farmer’s market of the season special, the more her face lights up, until she’s practically bouncing in her chair in the yellow kitchen.
I tell her about raising money for Parker, but I don’t tell her why.
It’s his private business, and it's up to him whether he wants to share it with Tabitha. It’s a testament to how much she trusts him, because even though she seems concerned when I tell her it’s for Parker, she nods and doesn’t ask questions.
She probably already knows about Parker’s father.
Who knows, maybe he has come to her for help before.
But this time, he’s letting me be the one to help him.
And I won’t betray his trust, even if there’s a chance she already knows the details.
Not unless I have to, for Parker’s safety.
Having a project quickly becomes a central force in my life, but this time I don’t feel any of the stress of event planning that I did when trying to pull the bachelorette party together.
This time is different. I have help, a team of people rooting for me, and I don’t want to let them down.
But I also don’t want to let myself down.
I have a vision for this event, and I know I can make it work with Parker and Tabitha's help. The last market is this Thursday, a few days away, and we have enough time that I’m actually letting myself have fun as I prep some decorative elements around the barn doors to make the spot more picturesque.
Every so often, though, I lift my head long enough to remember that it’s not going to erase the damage I did with the bachelorette disaster.
“Stop torturing yourself.” I jump at Parker’s voice behind me, nearly dropping my phone onto the driveway in the process. He strides past me into the barn with a horse on either side of him, leading them each into their stalls. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I’d chuck that thing into the pond.”
“I was checking the forecast,” I lie, though there is some truth to it.
A hurricane is set to make landfall on the East Coast in the next few days, and though we’re mostly protected here, a massive rainfall would do a pretty good job of keeping people away from the market.
“It’s not going to rain. And you’re full of shit.”
Ignoring him, I go back to arranging the hay bales, stacking them to create layers and scattering pumpkins of various sizes on top, leaving enough space for someone to sit for a photo op. With the barn as a background, a picture in this spot would look like something from a catalog.
I make it five minutes before sneaking my phone out again to check The Country Bumpkin blog for Lucy’s review. Still nothing. I know it’s coming, though, it has to be, and if it’s taking this long, I’m sure it won’t be anything good.
Parker deposits the last two horses in their stalls and hangs the lead ropes on a hook before leaning against the wall to spear me with a pointed look.
“You’d be having a lot more fun with this if you stopped worrying about what other people think,” he says, nudging my side with an elbow.
I know he’s right, but this bad review won’t just affect me. I put Lyla’s reputation on the line, by association.
“I’m sure a world without other people is your idea of paradise, but that’s not the one we live in.”
He stays serious, refusing to let me joke my way out of this one. “All I’m saying is don’t let something bad that happened once ruin everything good in your life you still have coming.”
I drop my gaze. His words are the arrow that hit the bullseye of my heart, and I think he notices because his tone is gentler when he speaks again.
“You’re putting a lot more pressure on yourself with that thing,” he says, pointing at my phone. “Would you spontaneously combust without it?”
“Absolutely not! I can be without my phone, thank you very much.”
“Oh yeah?” he says, eyes dancing with amusement. “Prove it.”
I roll my eyes, tucking it into my pocket and giving him a pointed look.
“See? All gone. Happy now, Grandpa?”
“Nope, not good enough. I dare you to keep it off all day on Thursday.”
“But that’s the day of the market,” I say.
“Exactly.”
“But what if—no, you know what?” I say, stopping myself at the superior look on Parker’s face. No way am I going to let him be right about this. “Thursday it is.”
“That’s the spirit.” He grins.
“What do I get if I win?”
“Accomplishment for the sake of personal gain.”
“Otherwise, it would be an accomplishment for the sake of people-pleasing, and I’m not doing that anymore, remember?”
“Fair enough.” His tongue forms a bump behind his stubble-covered cheek as he thinks. “I know, if you win, you can spend the night at my place.”
“That sounds like a prize for you.”
“Fine, you pick then.”
“Anything?” I ask, an idea popping into mind.
“Yeah, whatever you want.”
“You take me out.”
“On a date?”
“Yeah,” I say, trying not to let my face crack too soon. “Deal?”
He steps towards me, slipping his arms around my waist.
“Deal. Although that’s kind of a prize for me too.”
I let my hands glide up his chest, enjoying the solid feel of his body under my palms. “Aw, it’s sweet that you think that. But I haven’t told you where we’re going yet.”
“And where is that?”
“You’re taking me shoe shopping. To replace the ones you ruined, remember? And maybe an extra pair for my trouble.”
He tips his head back and groans as he laughs.
I pat him on the chest and turn away to make a final adjustment to the decor.
Laughter catches my attention, and I find the source across the yard.
From the barn door, I shake my head at my aunt and Jim, who Tabitha swears is still ‘just a good friend.’ As if I’m blind.
The two of them are huddled together, giggling like teenagers in love as they work on painting the photo op with face holes cut out for the kids.
“I swear, if I catch them necking out behind the barn, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”
A pair of arms slinks around my waist from behind, and this time, I lean into the solid frame they’re attached to.
“I don’t mind,” Parker says, nipping at my ear. It sends electricity zinging down my spine, landing with a flutter in my belly. “The more they distract each other, the more I can get away with doing stuff like this.”
Instead of untangling myself, I walk backwards, pushing us both further into the barn where we’ll be out of view.
I turn around to face him. He brings my arms around his neck, swallowing my sharp gasp as he captures my mouth in a deep kiss.
His tongue flicks over mine and a tiny whimper escapes me as the sensation causes my entire body to tingle, heat and heavy want pooling rapidly between my legs.
“Wh-what are you doing?” I say, gasping as he runs his tongue along the sensitive skin on my neck.
“Pushing my luck,” he murmurs, his teeth following the same path his tongue traced.
“Don’t tease,” I complain, trying to put some space between us to clear my head.
He lets me push him but comes right back to me like a boomerang. His mouth hovers at my ear and he holds my head in place while his other hand caresses my waist. “Who said I’m not planning to follow through?”
“Here?” I hiss, laughing against his mouth. “Are you crazy?”
Grabbing my hand, he yanks me into the feed room, closing the door behind us and dragging the wheelbarrow in front of it to keep it that way.
If I wasn’t already wet, the look in his eyes right now would be enough to get me there.
It’s everything that I love about him—heat, focus, humor and want—all wrapped up into one pair of beautiful brown eyes, trained on me like I’m the only other person in the world.
Eager anticipation buzzes over every inch of my skin as he stalks towards me slowly, backing me into the worktop against the opposite wall.
But when I bump it, he doesn’t stop coming.
With strong, capable hands, he lifts me swiftly onto it, stepping into the cradle of space between my thighs and pressing into my core.
I gasp. We’re nose to nose, my eyeline a fraction of an inch higher than his at this level.
His hands slide over my legs, my waist, then around, dropping until he has two fistfuls of my ass and he’s pressing me into him even harder.
“Would it kill you to agree with me, just once?” he growls against my lips.
“It might,” I whisper back, enjoying the strain of his flexing jaw as I irritate him further. “I wouldn’t want to risk it.”
“You love driving me crazy, don’t you?”
It’s not a question, and my smile widens.
Because it’s true. I’ve never felt more in control, more brazen, more …
myself, than when I’m pushing Parker. Because this push-and-pull we have is everything to me.
I’ve spent my life letting myself be pulled around by other people’s priorities, their plans, and often their ideas of what my own should be.
Pushing against Parker has been about so much more than him from the beginning.
It’s about going against all of it, carving out my own space to finally hear myself think, and claim whatever tiny piece of this world that’s mine for myself.
“Shut up and kiss me.”
The world outside these four walls ceases to exist. He pounces on me like a starved lion, and I don’t mind one bit.
I match every lick, every bite, every grab with one of my own as we fall into a kiss that’s as desperate and natural as the need to breathe.
His tongue slants over mine, claiming my mouth.
It’s rougher than it was yesterday when we gave in to this thing between us, finally.