Somebody to Love(94)

He’d told Dewey he’d help with a few things at the bar. The door to the men’s room stuck, a windstorm had blown the gutter off, a faucet leaked in the kitchen. If James was slow and lazy, he maybe had a week’s worth of excuses to stay in Gideon’s Cove. Real life was waiting. It was time to get back to work.

This morning, he’d had a phone interview with an old crony of Harry’s, who was a partner at Goldman Sachs. James was fairly sure a job offer would be coming, the old-boy network in play, despite—or perhaps because of—Harry’s felony. He’d have to move to New York, not that he really wanted to, but a job was a job. A buddy from law school had even offered to sublet his Brooklyn apartment for a year. It would be stupid not to take it.

Except he didn’t want to leave Parker. Even the kid had his moments. Well, one moment, anyway. James had been at the hardware store this morning, shooting the shit with Rolly and Ben, and picked up a pair of lobsterman gloves for Nicky. The kid had gone wild. Wore them all morning, chasing the dog around the yard, digging with them, trying to eat lunch with them.

“You give really good presents,” Parker observed. Then, as if realizing this was too intimate a thing to say, now that they weren’t together anymore, she’d sidled off to start the dishes.

That was about as close as they’d come to a conversation lately.

A knock on the door startled him.

Speak of the devil. “Hey,” he said, opening the door. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine.” She smiled. “Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

“This is really cute,” she said, looking around at the empty rooms. He was going to have to buy a bottle of the shampoo she used and keep it around for an occasional hit, because he was incredibly pathetic. He glanced at her; she was staring at him expectantly.

“Yeah. Um, how’s Nicky?”

“Since you left him two hours ago, you mean?” She grinned.

Okay, so it was a stupid question. “Yes.”

“He’s excellent. We had an early dinner at Lavinia’s, and the two of them are playing Nintendo.”

“‘Soldier of Fortune’?”

Parker laughed. “She does own that one, but no. This is Mario Brothers or something. Anyway.” She sat down on one of the two chairs. “How are you?”

Ah. So this was a booty call. There was nothing wrong with being used for sex. Right? So why was he pissed off?

“I’m fine. You want a beer, Parker?”

“Sure. Thank you.”

He got her a Sam Adams and poured it into a glass. This was Parker Harrington Welles, after all.

“So what are you doing here?” he asked, handing her the glass.

“Um, just went for a walk. Thought I’d check on you.”

“Want to fool around, then?”

“What? Oh. Uh…” The tips of her ears flushed. “I thought we could talk.”

“What would you like to talk about?”

She set her beer on the table. “Are you mad at me, James?”

He didn’t answer. Because the answer was, of course, yes. He hadn’t realized it until now.

“Something on your mind?” she asked.

“Not really.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“No.” Funny, he used to know how to talk to women.

“Well, what do you want, then?” Her voice was sharp.

You. All I want is you. I want what I saw in the kitchen when Ethan was here. I want your kid to like me. I want you to love me. “Sex would be great, if that’s what you’re here for.”

“Okay, you’re being an ass. I’ll go now.” She got up and went to the door, and if James had a pin, he would’ve stuck it in his eye, because he was an idiot.

“Parker, wait.” She stopped by the door, turned and folded her arms over her chest. Not exactly conducive to soul-baring, but who could blame her? “Look,” he began, running a hand through his hair. “I know you and Ethan have a kid together. And I know what a great guy he is.”

“What’s your point?”

“I also know that when he was with you, he was in love with someone else.”

Her jaw tightened. “I fail to see why—”

“I don’t have that problem.”

Her mouth opened a little, and her eyes widened.

“I don’t want to be nothing to you, Parker. I don’t have to be…ah, hell, I don’t know. But I miss you. I’m with you every day and I miss you, and I hate being near you and not being able to… This summer’s been so…”

This was careening toward idiocy. Talking sucked. He took her by the shoulders and kissed her. Hard. Pushed her against the door and kissed her, that beautiful, soft mouth, just kissed her with all the pent-up frustration that had been building in him for the past week. He slid his fingers into her cool, smooth hair and tilted her face for better access to her mouth, his kiss softening as she opened her lips and let him taste her, and please, God, he wanted her so much that his damn heart was about to burst.

She pulled back, her breathing shaky. “Does this place have a bed?” she asked, and James could definitely see why people believed in prayer.

* * *

“JAMES! JAMES, DEAR! I need a tiny favor!”