Somebody to Love(98)

“Shit,” said James. “I have to swim back, don’t I?”

“’Fraid so,” she answered.

Finally, he looked at her, squinting a little in the sun, and studied her face. “When do I get to collect my prize?” he asked.

She glanced at Nicky, who was occupied with digging. “Now works for me,” she said, her legs tingling a little.

He leaned over and kissed her, a long, lingering kiss. “That’s one,” she said when he pulled back.

“Ew! Gross!” her son yelled from shore. Shoot. Busted.

“You’re right, Nick,” James yelled back, grinning. “I should’ve asked for ten dollars!”

“I told you so!”

“I woulda held out for at least twenty,” Lavinia called.

James looked back at Parker, the drops of water sliding down his brown skin. His smile faded, and his eyes were serious. “I love you,” he said.

Then he pushed off the raft and was in the water, swimming back to the safety of the shore, leaving her feeling fragile and precious and completely new.

* * *

FROM WHERE HE LAY on the dock back home, James could hear Parker singing “Home on the Range,” which was apparently her son’s favorite bedtime song. Lavinia had left an hour or so before, and Parker’s voice and the gentle slap of the waves were the only sounds. Overhead, the sky was a dark purple, a sliver of crescent moon slicing through the clouds that slipped past.

Happiness wasn’t a feeling he was used to. He’d been pretty content the past few years, grateful to Harry, glad to be able to provide for Mary Elizabeth. He’d had fun, sure—Leah had been fun, as had been dinners with Harry, playing basketball with the guys on Saturday mornings, catching the occasional baseball game.

But that was nothing compared with this. Today, he’d been part of something.

A family.

The kid wasn’t his, but the little guy’s wriggling delight at finally being able to use the nail gun, the way he’d grabbed James’s hand…it had touched some part of James he’d thought had been erased eighteen years ago.

But now, the time before the tragedy kept running through his head. Christmas mornings, fishing trips, running for the school bus with his three brothers, telling Mary Elizabeth stories well past her bedtime. He’d been part of a family once, and when that family fell apart because of him, he’d assumed that was it. When you’re told over and over by the father you once worshipped that you don’t deserve to be loved…it sinks in. It seems true.

James had simply thought that some people were cut out for family life. Others, like him, were not.

Until today. Today, he’d had a family—Lavinia and Parker and her son. Today, a kid had held his hand. By the time they’d gotten back from the lake, Nicky had been sound asleep in his booster seat, and James had lifted him out, cradling the little guy’s sweaty head, shifting his limp weight onto his shoulder and carrying him inside as Parker held the door. The four of them had had hot dogs and salad for dinner, and he and Vin had done the dishes while Parker and Nicky fished off the dock.

It felt better than he could have ever imagined.

Maybe, he thought, maybe it was time to let the past go and stop blaming himself for Mary Elizabeth. Maybe being an irresponsible twelve-year-old kid didn’t warrant a life sentence.

Earlier today, he’d gotten the call from New York. The job offer had been finalized, the package details had come through today; the pay was close to what Harry paid him, signing bonus, sweet benefits…all thanks to Harry’s recommendation. Last month, he would’ve taken that job without hesitation. Last week, even.

Things were different now. For him, certainly. For Parker, too. Whatever she wanted, however she wanted it to be, that was all fine with him, so long as he could be near her.

Mine.

Kind of a caveman word. It fit, though. She was his. He’d seen it in her eyes today on the dock.

He heard the back door close, and Beauty came trotting down the new stairs and flopped down next to him on the blanket. Then the dock rocked a little harder, and the other beauty came, her long hair down, wearing a white dress, her feet bare. “Shoo, puppy,” she said, and the good dog obeyed. Parker sat down next to him. “Nicky’s asleep. Tired from all that swimming.” She paused. “He wouldn’t wake up if there was a buffalo stampede through his room. I’m just mentioning that.” She was smiling.

“Good to know.” He felt himself smiling, too, and reached up to touch her cheek.

Parker reached down and started unbuttoning his shirt. Yep. Best day ever.

But next week was looming; New York wanted an answer by Friday, and today was Wednesday. He put his hand over hers. “Parker, I should tell you something.”

She lifted her eyes to his. “So serious, Thing One. You’re not pregnant, are you?” She grinned.

“Uh…no. Are you?” He jerked into a sitting position, the same icy rush of terror he’d felt today just before diving under the water washing over him.

“Me? No, no, I was…I was kidding.” She frowned.

“Okay. Great. Try not to kill me, Parker.”

Her eyes narrowed a little. Shit. “But if I was—I’m not, don’t worry—would that be horrible?”

“Uh…” These were the conversations that doomed many a man. “I don’t know. I mean, no. Not horrible.”