Somebody to Love(73)

“No. That’s me.” Parker set down the flower-girl bouquet and started on the bridesmaid’s.

Vin laughed. “Look at you, Miss Busy Bee. Want my help with anything?”

Parker straightened up and looked around. The shop was a mess. “You can do the boutonnieres, okay? A little bitty sprig of hydrangea, and a piece of ivy, like this.”

“I think I can make a boutonniere, Parker,” her cousin said. “I’ve been in business for thirty years.”

“Got it. Sorry, Vin.”

Lavinia gave her a grudging smile. “Ah, well. I admit…you’re not half-bad at this.”

By four o’clock, Parker’s back was aching, and they still had miles to go. But Lavinia was growling about the judge, and honestly, everything that could be done today was done. She’d take care of the rest in the morning.

“Vin, you go ahead. You have a date. I’ll clean up.”

“It’s more of a sex date. What do you kids call that these days?”

“Booty call?”

“Ayuh. Don’t get me wrong, my eyes are wide open. Men would f**k a fur-lined knothole, you know what I mean? I’m just glad to be getting a little some-some at my age.”

Parker grinned. “I’m so glad we’re related,” she said honestly.

“You’re a good cousin,” Lavinia said. “Not much like your mother, are you?”

“Mom’s not so bad.”

“That branch of the family never got over being rich. We had more practice, over on my side. Ah, well. Gotta go pluck some hairs and shave my legs,” Lavinia said. “Thanks, kid.”

“You bet.”

Parker cleaned up the mess of stems and bits of blossom and ribbon, then swept the floor. Admit it, Spike said, stubbing out a ciggie the same way Lavinia did. You’re avoiding him.

It was true.

James was five years younger than she was. Did he want a serious relationship with a single mom, or a roll in the hay? Did she want more? James always seemed so much like Harry…slick, insincere. Parker, always lovely to see you. She couldn’t help feeling as if he was mocking her, that lifted eyebrow, that gleam in his eye. His compliments on her books always stung a little, as if she didn’t already know they were nauseating and fake.

And yet, James had spent the past two weeks working like a draft horse. There had been moments between them, sure. Chemistry and all that. But the truth was, she really didn’t know what kind of a man he was, and…

She paused in her sweeping, a little surprised at the thought that was forming in her brain.

…and if James ever found out just how lonely she really was, it would be horrible.

Because nobody knew that.

She wanted a husband. She wanted more kids, maybe, and yes, she was thirty-five. She wanted someone who loved her the way Ethan loved Lucy, who looked at her the way Malone looked at Maggie, and let’s be honest. She’d never had anything even close.

James was here under orders from her father. He wanted her, sure. But Nicky was coming in nine days.

Well. She couldn’t avoid him forever. She locked up the shop and headed for home. The Volvo was comforting, the smell of Goldfish crackers and old leather, the indentation in the backseat from Nicky’s booster, reminding her who she really was.

A mom. With a sigh, she pulled into the driveway.

James was shirtless, sweaty and doing stuff for her house. Parker’s knees weakened. He’s beautiful, said Golly. “Preach it, sister,” Parker muttered. She forced her attention to the house. Her purpose in being in Maine, after all. Flip the house. Earn a little money for a place back home.

She dragged her eyes off Thing One’s arms, those lean, muscular, capable arms that had crushed her against him last night, a kiss so fierce and angry and hot that—House, Parker, house!

James had reshingled the entire western side of the house. For now, the color was creamy-cedar, but the salt winds and water would turn the shingles to gray. He didn’t look up as she got out of the car, but Beauty came bounding over, her plumy tail wagging, her nose cool against Parker’s leg.

“Wow, Thing One. You’ve been busy,” Parker said as she bent to pet her little dog. Yes. Adopt a casual attitude. Definitely the way to go. “It looks great.”

“Thanks.” He didn’t look at her.

“You’re welcome. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” Still no eye contact.

Beauty lay down in the grass and put her muzzle on her paws, watching the two humans avoid meaningful conversation.

“So the library thing was kind of fun, as debts to society go,” Parker said, reaching out to touch a shingle with one finger.

“Good.” Bang! The sound of the air gun made her jump. James bent—his ass…perfect—and picked up another shingle. Bang!

“Collier was there,” Parker said. No comment. “I reduced him to tears as the Holy Rollers helped bury the squashed kitten.”

“He’s a sensitive soul.” Bang!

Was James jealous? Please, she wasn’t that desperate. Still, perhaps clarification would be in order. “Yeah, well, he’s very nice and all, but I don’t think I could be friends with a man who took those books seriously.”

No comment. His neck glistened with sweat.