Somebody to Love (Gideon's Cove #3)(82)

“Parker, hi, what a shock. I thought you were on a delivery.” He grinned at the sight of her flushed face.

“I’ll leave you two lovers alone,” Lavinia said with a rusty chuckle. “Eavesdropping the whole time, of course.”

Parker waited till Lavinia went into the back room. “James, I’m sorry I had to leave so early. I, um, had to clean up.”

“No, you didn’t. You’re avoiding me.”

“Okay, yes, I’m avoiding you.” She shoved a piece of hair behind her ear, pinched her pinkie, then folded her arms over her chest and looked at the floor, Princess Agitation. “I wasn’t sure what to say.”

“I missed you,” he said.

She pinched her pinkie again, biting her lip, as well. Very agitated indeed. “I— Can we—” She stopped herself, looked down for a second. Sighed, then raised her eyes back to him. “Last night might’ve been a huge mistake. I don’t know. I’m not really sure what I want here, or what you want, or what… Anyway, I need to think a little bit, and I’m not ready for a conversation yet.”

He was not going to let her shovel some wrongheaded story again. “Well, for what it’s worth, last night wasn’t a huge mistake, as far as I’m concerned. And I don’t believe you think it was, either.”

“Well, I— You might be right. I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do,” he said, his voice containing a hard edge. Good. “You blew me off the last time, Parker. You really gonna do that again?”

She looked at the floor again. “No,” she whispered. “I’m just thinking. Okay? I’m not blowing you off. And I’m sorry that I bolted this morning. As you might be aware, I’m not really good at relationships.”

She looked so miserable that he wanted to leap over the counter and kiss her stupid.

“Give me a few hours, okay?” she asked.

Well, shit. He couldn’t really say no, could he? Still, he couldn’t suppress a sigh, either. “Fine.”

“Thank you for finding me,” she whispered. “It was very sweet.”

That was the thing with Parker. Made him crazy on one hand, made him crazy on the other, but for two entirely different reasons. Plexiglas heart vs. gooey caramel center.

“I’ll be at home,” he said. “And I’ll be thinking of you the whole time.”

“My Gawd, that’s wicked romantic,” Lavinia called. “Nice one, Jamie.”

“Thanks, Vin,” he called, not looking away from Parker.

Then, what else could a guy do? He went home.

* * *

“FIVE YEARS? PLEASE. Jonah’s thirteen years younger than I am. Jamie’s what? Twenty-nine? Thirty? That’s totally legal. So he’s your beautiful boy toy. Run with it.”

“Beats the electronic solution,” Lavinia added.

Parker sighed. Advice from Chantal and Lavinia—probably not the best role models.

“There doesn’t seem to be a good ending here,” she said, trying yet again to explain. “When I thought about a summer fling, it was with someone I barely knew.”

“Trashy,” Vin said admiringly.

“So he’s not just a fling. But he’s not stepfather material, either. He’s…I don’t know. Glib.”

“Is he glib? What does glib mean, exactly?” Lavinia said, scratching her head.

“It means insincere and shallow,” Chantal answered.

They were drinking cheap white wine at some odd little structure in the middle of nowhere, half bar, half restaurant and the only alternative to Dewey’s in a forty-mile radius. Chantal had dropped by the shop to chat that afternoon, and Lavinia, claiming Chantal was an expert on all things male, had spilled out Parker’s deeply personal issues. A girls’ night had been deemed necessary, and as Parker wasn’t really sure about going home, here they were at Jason’s Taverne.

Parker sighed. “See, he’s only here this summer because my father told him to come. He’s being paid. Not to have sex with me, maybe, but still. I can never tell if he’s sincere or jerking my chain. And half the time, I think he’s only nice to me because it’s part of his job.”

“But your father’s in jail, so James doesn’t have a job, does he?” Vin asked. Parker shrugged.

“And he might be glib,” Chantal said thoughtfully, “but he has the best ass in town since Father Tim. Hey, I’m married, not blind.”

“So have a fling,” Lavinia said. “God knows you could use one.”

“Thanks, Vin. You’re so sweet to say so.” Parker sighed.

“Why not, Parker?” Chantal agreed. “Lavinia’s right. Have a fling. He’s there, he’s edible, you’re horny—”

“Okay, okay. What if I’m not fling material?” Parker said, cheeks hot. This whole conversation was extremely uncomfortable.

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Chantal said, eating some popcorn and waving to some guy at the bar who was eyeballing her. “Sorry,” she called. “Happily married.” She refocused on Parker. “Call it a summer romance. What are you afraid of? If James was good at seventeen, I can only imagine—”

“And again, I’m so uncomfortable talking about this,” Parker said, leaning her forehead against her fist. The cheap wine was doing its trick. “What if I break his heart or something? What if he breaks mine?”