Somebody to Love(88)

Parker looked at him for a long, long moment, then put her hand over his heart. “Oh, James,” she whispered. “I would’ve done the exact same thing.”

* * *

IT WAS NOT GREAT TIMING, falling for someone four days before a relationship was scheduled to end. Parker admitted that. But that night, James asleep on one side of her, Beauty on the other, both of them sound asleep, she had to acknowledge that it was true.

She was in love.

She studied him as he slept. Cheekbones of an angel, perfect, smooth skin.

They would make beautiful babies, that was for sure.

Oh, holy halos. Where had that thought come from? Now was not the time to be thinking babies. She had a child. That child—and reality—were returning in four days.

And James had never said anything about wanting kids, or a future, or anything other than getting exactly what he was getting now. The L word had not been exchanged. Given the horror he’d lived through, having kids was probably not on his list of things to do.

But hearing about James’s past, seeing him with his sister…it changed things in her heart, if not in the world.

James stirred, frowned, then opened his eyes. “Hey,” he muttered.

“Hi.”

He looked at her, his eyes softening. “Everything okay?”

“Yes.” Then she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, on the chin, on the temple, until he was smiling, and then she kissed him on the mouth, and the feeling was so overwhelming, so right and wonderful, she thought her heart might come right out of her chest.

Four days. Four more days of this.

It didn’t feel like enough.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

ON SATURDAY NIGHT, their last night together, James sat on the dock as ordered. He could hear Parker rattling around in the kitchen, putting the final touches on dinner. She’d already brought down a bottle of wine—the last one from Harry’s wine cellar, she’d said—and it was sitting in a bucket of ice next to him. The picnic blanket was spread and set. She’d even put a little vase of flowers in the middle.

James didn’t hate being on the dock anymore, despite the gentle rocking and deep water. Nope. It was growing on him, better late than never. The evening was warm and clear, the sun taking its time to set, lighting up Gideon’s Cove in a clean, golden glow.

It was almost insultingly romantic.

His bag was packed; his bed, in which he hadn’t slept for seven nights running, was now made up with fire-engine sheets for Nicky. James would be moving to Maggie Beaumont’s old apartment for the next week or so; all he had to do in exchange was check in on Maggie’s little old lady neighbor.

What happened with Parker after tonight, he had no idea.

A fling, she’d said. A weeklong summertime fling, at the end of which, they’d part as friends. Except he didn’t want her as a friend.

But she already seemed to be pulling away. Putting out her son’s stuffed animals on the bed, a few books in his room, making a sign that said, Welcome, Nicky! I missed you! He was getting the message. She was shifting back into mommy mode, and he couldn’t blame her. She had a lot to do back in Rhode Island—get a job, find a place to live, adjust to a new lifestyle, get her kid settled in school.

Didn’t stop the wanting, though.

But he had his own stuff to deal with. His own bills to pay, his own job to find.

“Okay, here we are,” Parker said, walking carefully with the tray. Beauty bounded onto the dock and flopped down expectantly, making Parker laugh. “It’s not for you, girl. It’s for him. Ta-da!”

Lobster. Drawn butter, mashed potatoes, green beans. “There’s peach cobbler for dessert, but it was too hot to bring down just yet,” she added.

“Wow,” he said. “This is really nice, Parker. Thanks.”

“Well. I owe you. For all you’ve done.”

Ah. He was being relegated back to the help. Got it.

The food was fantastic. Hard to really love your kiss-off meal, though. Parker chatted easily about town things…a little gossip from the flower shop, the busload of Canadians that had stopped at the diner today, Stuart from the hardware store dropping by with a “blonde with sand” for her today, which apparently was a cup of coffee with cream and sugar.

All very pleasant conversation, same as she’d have with the mailman.

“Why wouldn’t you go out with me back then?” he asked, setting down his fork. “After your cousin’s wedding?”

His question surprised James nearly as much as it surprised Parker. Her mouth opened, then closed, and she began stacking the plates neatly onto the tray, where Beauty surreptitiously gave them a few licks. Then, finally, she looked at him. “Well, at the time, I didn’t want to date you, James. You were Thing One. My father’s minion.”

“But you were okay with using me for sex.”

She flinched a little. “I guess so. It wasn’t like I’d planned anything.” She looked out over the water. “I figured you slept with me because my last name is Welles.”

“I slept with you because you dragged me into a bedroom and mauled me, Parker, and no straight single guy in his right mind would say no to that.” He smiled a little to soften the words.

Her ears grew pink. “Right. I did drag and maul. It’s true. But then you went off with my father, and it seemed very…convenient. You were already in my father’s back pocket—now you had his daughter, too.”