Somebody to Love(35)

Parker didn’t answer, just put her hand on Nicky’s head.

James dragged his gaze off her and looked at her son. “Hi, Nick.”

“You remember Grandpa Harry’s lawyer, right?” Parker said. Because that’s all you’re ever going to be in this house, pal.

Ethan joined the little crowd. “Hey, how you doing, James?” he said. The men shook hands. Ethan looked at the flowers, still in Thing One’s hand, then at Parker’s face. “Nicky, let’s go throw rocks in the water, okay, buddy?”

Parker cleared her throat. “No, that’s okay, Ethan. He was just leaving. Drive safely, James.”

“Dwive safewy, James,” Nicky echoed.

James looked at her another second or two. “Okay. Enjoy your night.”

There was a lump in Parker’s throat as she closed the door. She was stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Nicky, can you go get me a grape?” Ethan asked.

“Sure, Daddy!” Nicky said, racing off to the kitchen.

Parker looked at Ethan, forced a smile.

“Flowers, huh?” he said, leaning in the doorway.

“Yep. You know. Kissing up to the boss’s daughter. So is salmon okay? I thought I’d grill it, make a salad. Or we could have what the chef left on Friday. Just need to heat it up.”

“You want to talk?”

“About what?”

“About the fact that James brought you flowers and you pretty much set the dogs on him?”

“I don’t have dogs.”

“Come on, Parker.”

“There’s really nothing to talk about.”

“You sure?”

“Heck yeah.”

Ethan gave her a long look but said nothing more.

She spent the next week on edge, waiting for something that never came. James never called her. Never emailed, texted or dropped by. He followed instructions, in other words; proof that she was right—he wasn’t going to get anywhere by being with her. If he really wanted something different—not that he actually did, but if—he would’ve surely tried again.

But he didn’t. She saw him a few months later, when, instructed by Harry, he dropped by with some mutual-fund papers she needed to sign.

He never mentioned anything about their hookup.

And even though it was what she’d asked for, it was oddly disappointing.

CHAPTER TEN

PARKER WAS SHOWERING. Not ten feet from his bedroom, Parker Welles was na**d and wet.

Okay. Probably not the most productive way to start the day. She’d already blown him off in spectacular fashion once in his life. But she was na**d and wet and near, so these thoughts were apparently unavoidable.

Since yesterday, when she accepted that she really did need some help here, Parker had been very civilized, oh, yes. She always was. Nope, he was not allowed to see behind the curtain, as it were.

Except for that one time at her cousin’s wedding. Damn. When she’d leaned in and kissed him on those stairs, he actually froze for a second, convinced he was hallucinating the whole thing. But no. The memory of what had followed would live on the trophy shelf of James’s mind till the day he died.

And afterward, when he was convinced she was having not only second thoughts, but third, fourth and fifth thoughts, too, she agreed to hang out with him. She kissed him on the cheek. Which, in its own way, meant more than even the unbelievable shag.

Then he’d run smack into Harry at the base of the stairs. Hey, Harry, I just finished doing your daughter. How’s it going?

So what was he supposed to do?

He figured he’d take his lead from Parker, and she’d been her usual frosty self with Harry. Then Harry had taken him off to meet some Rhode Island senator, and yeah, maybe it had been more than a few minutes. But he hadn’t expected her to bolt, either. Texted her, got no answer. Maybe something had come up with her kid. But Harry was power-drinking and, as usual, wanted company. James called Parker; no answer. When Harry insisted on going back to the city because of a Sunday-morning brunch he couldn’t miss, James went with him, knowing his boss was sloppy, feeling that mix of pity and love he always did when Harry overindulged. And now, maybe, he was taking care of not only his boss, but of Parker’s father. Drove all the way back to Rhode Island so he could see her the next day.

Whereupon he’d gone over with flowers and found that he’d become dog shit. Then again, he may well have been dog shit all along. He might’ve just been the guy picked up by the bridesmaid. No one could measure up to the Paragon, after all. A point driven home by the fact that Parker had the guy right there in the house with her.

Not that James really wanted to try to measure up. He’d never pictured himself married, never wanted kids. But the first time he’d ever seen Parker Harrington Welles, staring at her baby as if no one on earth had ever had a baby before, her face so rapt and gentle…something had sneaked up on him in that moment and sucker punched him and reminded him of what he didn’t have, and hadn’t had for a long time.

Somebody to love.

He loved Mary Elizabeth, of course. But that was different.

Then, at The Wedding, he’d felt it again, that sucker punch when she kissed him on the cheek, a moment of believing that Parker…well. Whatever. She didn’t. She’d made that abundantly clear.