Chapter nine
Cashlynn
“Wasn’t your dad supposed to be here by now?” Parker asks as he stirs the pasta boiling on the stove.
I glance at the microwave clock. “Yes. Do you think he got lost?” Before he can answer, the doorbell rings. My stomach twists, nerves surging. “Guess not,” I mutter.
Parker and I rehearsed our story last night and again this afternoon as soon as he got home from the animal hospital.
While he was at work, I moved my things into his bedroom so that if Dad wants a tour of the house, it looks like we share a room.
Parker didn’t seem too thrilled about it, but agreed it was a smart move.
“Just breathe.” Parker’s calm, steady voice cuts through the my building nerves. He gives me a reassuring smile. “Let’s go answer the door together.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
With his hand on the small of my back—a move I’m becoming a big fan of—we head for the front door. We open it to find my father leaning on his cane, a bottle of wine in his other hand.
“Hi, Dad.” I step forward and wrap my arms around him, even though his hands are full.
He kisses me on the temple instead of returning my hug. “Hi there, June Bug.” When he stands tall again, he glances over at Parker. “Parker.”
Parker reaches for the wine. “Robert. Thanks for coming over.”
“Well, I guess I should get used to visiting since this is my daughter’s home now too.” He walks through the front door and shuffles toward the dining room.
“I’m sorry,” I say to Parker under my breath.
“What are you apologizing for now?”
“His attitude. I just—”
Parker leans forward and presses a kiss to my forehead. His lips barely graze my skin, but it’s enough to short-circuit my brain. “I can handle your father,” he says. “I’ve been working with him for the past six years, remember?”
“Yeah, but you weren’t always fake engaged to me.”
Parker’s expression hardens slightly. “No, but if he’s going to have that big of an attitude about it, I can give it right back.”
“You’re supposed to be buttering him up, remember? The practice? That’s why you agreed to this.”
“Not if it means standing by while he doesn’t support you.” He takes my hand and leads me toward the kitchen, my heart thrashing in my chest from his words.
As the days pass and I inch closer to opening my gallery, I’m starting to feel like Parker genuinely believes in me, and I’m not sure why.
Maybe Hazel is right. Maybe there are feelings there that even he’s oblivious to.
“Smells good. What are you making, June Bug?”
“Actually, Parker’s cooking tonight,” I say, retrieving the wine opener from a drawer as Parker moves back to the stove.
“You cook, Parker?”
“I do. My mother always made my brothers and me help in the kitchen when we were young. She said she refused to raise boys that didn’t know how to fend for themselves or impress a woman.”
I glance back at him and he winks at me over his shoulder.
“Parker’s cooking is one of the biggest perks of living together,” I say, loving when he gives me glimpses of the man beyond the exterior.
“I imagine it’s hard to do much of that when you’re in a long-distance relationship, huh?” My father says, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
I pour three glasses of the red wine my father bought, handing one to Parker before taking the other two to the dining room table. Placing one in front of Dad, I take the seat next to him.
“I know you have questions, Dad.”
“You’re damn right I do.” He picks up his wine glass and takes a sip as he leans back in his chair, his large belly protruding over the waistband of his pants.
“And we will answer them. But do you think you can chill a bit since you just got here?”
His response is a grunt.
“How hungry are you, Robert?” Parker asks from the kitchen as he starts plating the pasta carbonara. My mouth is salivating from the smell of it alone.
My dad pats his stomach. “Don’t give me too much, son. I’m trying to watch my figure.”
Parker chuckles and plates three helpings of the pasta and garlic bread. He brings them to the table, settling into the chair next to me.
“This smells amazing, babe,” I say, catching his eye.
He smiles over at me before reaching for his glass of wine. “Thank you.” Then he holds his glass out, suggesting a toast. “To family and the beginning of a new life for all of us.”
My father raises an eyebrow before slowly reaching forward to clink his glass with ours. “To family.”
The three of us eat in silence for a few minutes, the tension simmering just beneath the surface.
“Who knew you could cook, Parker?” Dad says eventually.
Parker chuckles. “I’ll take that as a compliment, sir.”
“Sir? Don’t start treating me differently now that you’re marrying my daughter,” he admonishes. “But while we’re on the subject, I think I’m ready for an explanation.”
Parker’s gaze shifts to me, his expression encouraging me to start, like we discussed.
“Okay, Dad. Here’s how things happened.” I spend the next few minutes retelling our story to my father, emphasizing how crazy it was that the doctor he’d always spoken about with such pride was the man that ended up comforting me during a flight.
We talked about how whenever Parker went out of town, he would make sure to fly to Philadelphia to see me.
We fell hard and fast, and after months of long-distance, we realized we didn’t want to be apart anymore. Moving here was the obvious choice.
“But I shocked him when I showed up earlier than planned,” I explain. “When I heard you got hurt, I came down sooner than we’d discussed. That’s why Parker was so surprised to see me that day.”
“I see.” My father finishes his wine, setting the glass on the table.
All three of us are finished eating, so the only thing left to do is soak up the palpable tension in the room.
“I understand being wary of telling me, but here’s my issue.
” He turns his gaze to Parker. “If you were serious enough about my daughter to propose, why didn’t you come to me then?
At the very least, you should’ve asked me for her hand in marriage. ”
Parker clears his throat. “If I could take that part back, Robert, I would. Truly.” He turns to me and places a finger under my chin, directing my gaze to his. “But we were tired of being apart. I knew if I was really going to convince her to make the move, I had to show her I was all in.”
Parker’s eyes dance all over my face, and if I didn’t know that he was acting, I’d believe every emotion his words are conveying right now.
His eyes dip to my lips, and before I think better of it, I press a soft kiss to his mouth.
It’s brief, just enough to sell it without giving my father a heart attack at the other end of the table.
“Well, I have to say, if I had to choose anyone for my June Bug, it would be you, Parker.”
I turn to my father as Parker wraps his arm around my shoulders. “I’m glad you feel that way, Dad,” I say, relief blooming in my chest.
“So, when’s the wedding?”
Parker coughs behind me, apparently losing his composure from before, so I jump in. “We haven’t talked about it much, Dad. It’s been a whirlwind with the move and everything.”
“I see.”
“But we did find a ring,” Parker adds, reaching for my hand. He brings it to his mouth, kissing my knuckles before extending it to Dad.
My dad assesses the ring. “It’s stunning. At least you did right by her in that respect.”
“I tried. I knew this ring belonged on her finger the second I saw it.”
“You two still have a lot to learn about each other, though.”
Parker laughs under his breath as he rises to clear our plates. “Oh believe me, we’ve been learning plenty about each other.”
My father’s eyebrows rise. “Oh? Like what?”
“Like your daughter unplugs appliances when they aren’t being used,” he says, taking our plates over to the sink.
My father looks at me quizzically. “Is that true, June Bug?”
“Um, yes.” My words come out shaky. “It helps conserve energy.”
My dad scoffs. “I doubt that.”
“That’s what I said,” Parker calls over his shoulder, scrubbing the dishes.
“Yeah, well, Parker irons his socks!” I counter, folding my arms as I bite back a grin.
My father’s gaze darts to my fake fiancé. “You do?”
“They’re dress socks. It just makes sense,” he grumbles as I fight to hold in my laughter.
My father chuckles quietly, which I take as a good sign. “Well, it seems you two are learning a lot about each other now that you’re living together, aren’t you?”
“We are, and I’m happy here, Dad.”
He leans forward in his chair and lowers his voice. “I’m allowed to be worried about you, June Bug. This whole thing is a little out of character for you.”
“Well, people change. And what we want out of life can change too, Dad.”
He exhales sharply, sitting upright again. “That it can.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?” he asks, a bit too defensively.
“Have you given any more thought to making some changes too? Taking better care of yourself?” Parker clears his throat loudly from the kitchen, so I turn to look at him. His eyebrows shoot up, and he tilts his head slightly, as if to say, Don’t forget our deal, Cashlynn. Subtle. Real subtle.
I turn back to my dad, trying to keep my voice casual. “You know, now you’ll have a son-in-law to leave the practice to.”
My dad grunts. “I haven’t made my decision on that yet. And given these recent developments, I might need to reconsider my options.”
Leaning forward, I reach for his hand. “Dad, please don’t blame Parker for keeping this a secret. It was my choice, okay?”
“Besides, we’ve all got our secrets, right, Robert?” Parker chimes in. I look between him and my dad, confused.
My dad’s gaze flicks to Parker, and for a moment, something unreadable passes between them. Then he clears his throat, brushing the remark aside. “I just don’t get why you couldn’t tell me yourself, June Bug.”
“You’re not the easiest to talk to sometimes,” I admit, my voice low.
“That’s not true,” he replies sharply, leaving no room for argument.
I give him a pointed look that says Point made.