Parker (Striking Back #3) (8 page)

“I’ll
bet it’s beautiful out here in the daylight,” I remark.

“I’ll
show you around tomorrow. Let’s get you settled in.” The living room is warm
and comfortable, masculine, with a soft sectional couch and oversized leather
recliner. Opening the door to a spacious bedroom with pale blue walls, he says,
“This is the guest room. There’s an attached bath. I want you to make yourself
at home here.”

“Thank
you,” I murmur. “But you don’t have to do this. You can move me out of state,
like you suggested.”

His
fingers pinch my chin, forcing me to look him in the eye. “I told you, I won’t
fail you again. I have a state of the art alarm system. Even if the bastard
somehow figures out where you are, he’ll never get in. I don’t want you to be
afraid.”

“I’m
not afraid.”

Parker
places my suitcase on the bed and runs his hands through his hair. “How about a
drink?” He looks like he could use one.

“Sounds
good.”

Parker

If
it was hard to resist Macy before, it’s damn near impossible now. Having her
here in my home—where no woman has ever been—makes me realize I never want her
to leave. We have to catch this asshole soon. If not, she’ll be relocating out
of state and I can’t let that happen. Friends, we said, but I only intend to
honor that until she’s safe. As soon as Al is behind bars and she’s no longer
under our protection, she’s mine.

Until
then, I have to keep my hands to myself and play along with this friend
agreement. Macy perches on the edge of the couch, sipping her wine, and I take
a seat across from her. “Was that Mason you were talking to before we left?”
she asks.

“Yeah,
I had to let him know what happened. We need to figure out how Al found you.”

“Mason
didn’t want you to bring me here.”

“He’d
prefer we move you out of state, but I don’t think that’s necessary just yet.”
I’m lying and I know it. If it was anyone else, we’d have them on a plane by
now, but I just can’t. We have to assume the other local safe houses are
compromised since he found the last one, so it was either take her far away or
bring her here. I have to know she’s safe and that means I have to be with her.

Dark
hair cascades over her shoulders when she flops back onto the couch. “I can
move. I hate to, but I’ve done it before.”

“Moved
to another state?”

“I
moved to Indy three years ago after my mother died. There was nothing keeping
me in Missouri and I wanted out of the small town I grew up in. It sucks that I
have to start over when I was just starting to make friends here, but I can do
it if I have to.”

I
didn’t realize how alone she is. “I’m sorry about your mother. Was it an
accident?”

“Colon
cancer. My father died the year before of a heart attack. They were both in
their seventies. My mom didn’t have me until she was forty-eight. I was quite a
surprise,” she says with a giggle, downing the rest of her wine.

“No
brothers or sisters?”

“Nope,
just me.”

She
doesn’t have any family. I can’t imagine that. I lost my parents, but always
had my brothers and an aunt and uncle. What kind of courage does it take to up
and move to a large city alone with no support system? She’s amazing.

“I’m
exhausted,” she says, carrying her wine glass to the kitchen. “Think I’ll turn
in.”

“Sure.
I’m in the room right across the hall if you need anything.”

“Thank
you, I’ll be fine.”

Before
I head to bed an hour later, I peek in on her. The light falls across her face
and she looks so peaceful. I wish I could take a picture. I imagine that’d be
one step too far and probably creep her out if she woke to a camera flash. She
rolls over just as I turn to leave, and the covers slip down to reveal one
creamy thigh. Shit. I didn’t need to see that. My cock is going to be chapped
if I abuse the wicked stick much more.

* * * *

Something
smells delicious when I wake and I roll out of bed to investigate. Macy is
standing over my stove, dressed in a tank top and shorts. Her hips sway when
she walks to the cabinet to grab a plate.

“You’re
walking without the crutches,” I say, and she turns with a smile that brightens
my day. Shit. Did I just think that? She’s got me sounding like a chick.

“It
doesn’t hurt to put weight on it for short periods of time, and I’m too clumsy
on those crutches.”

“I
know. Thought I was going to lose an eye.”

“Shut
up or I’ll aim lower next time. Hungry?”

“Starving,”
I reply, taking a seat at the counter. “What smells so good?”

“Biscuits
and sausage gravy.”

That’s
it. I’m fucking keeping her. “My favorite.”

A
roll of her eyes makes me laugh. She thinks I’m teasing her. “Seriously,” I
emphasize. “What’s your favorite food?”

“Chocolate
lava cake,” she replies instantly, placing a platter of biscuits and a large
bowl of gravy on the table.

“I
should’ve known it’d be chocolate.” I pour two glasses of orange juice and set
plates and silverware on the table. She takes a seat across from me and we dig
in. It’s disconcerting how good, how
normal
it feels to have breakfast
with her. Like she’s here voluntarily and not because her life is in danger.

I’ve
never wanted normal. I tell people normal is boring as hell, but that’s not the
reason I’ve refused to settle down or even date the same woman twice. I know
how quickly it can be torn apart and I won’t lose anyone else I love. Even if
that means never loving anyone new. This woman is just as bad for me as I am
for her. I need to remember that.

I’m
putting our breakfast dishes in the dishwasher when Mason shows up. “I see
you’ve changed your keycode,” he remarks when I unlock the door to let him in.

“Alarm
code too,” I reply.

“I
have some things for Macy.”

Irrational
jealousy hardens my jaw. “I’d have gotten her anything she needs.”

Ignoring
me, he greets Macy and places her laptop on the coffee table. “It’s clean. He
didn’t add anything or access any of your files, just uploaded that picture to
alarm you.”

“It
worked,” she scoffs.

“Try
not to let him upset you. It’s what he wants. Here, Evie sent you these.”

Macy
opens the large box Mason places in front of her and laughs when she pulls out
a fresh box of chocolate covered donuts. Her mouth forms a perfect O when she
finds a brand new Kindle next. “I already destroyed her last one. I can’t keep
this. Tell her thanks, but give it back to her, please.”

Mason
shakes his head. “You didn’t destroy it, that psycho did. I bought her a new
one. That one’s yours. Evie loaded it with those dirty books you two like to
read.”

“They
aren’t dirty. They’re romantic,” she argues with a grin. “Thank you!” I really
didn’t need to know she reads dirty books.

“It
was all Evie,” Mason replies.

“Uh-huh.”
She isn’t fooled for a moment.

“I
need to talk to you about something. I’d like you to consider letting us move
you to a safe house that’s farther away. There’s much less chance of Mr.
Pearson locating you there.”

My
entire body burns with anger. I just told him no. He’s going over my head, trying
to talk her into it. “I told you…”

“And
I want to hear it from her,” Mason says, his jaw tight.

Macy’s
hands twist in her lap. “How far away?”

“Clarksville,
Tennessee. It doesn’t have to be forever, just until he’s behind bars.”

“You
don’t think I’m safe here?”

Mason
runs his hands through his hair with a sigh. “For now, but I’d feel better if
we put more distance between you.”

Macy
looks him in the eye. “Between me and Al, or me and Parker?” I can’t suppress a
grin watching her challenge Mason.

“Both,”
Mason admits, glancing at me.

Macy’s
voice is firm as she responds. “Parker has taken very good care of me through
all of this. I trust him.” Macy shows him her palm when he starts to interrupt.
“If there’s no news on Al in the next week, I’ll move to Tennessee. Until then,
I think you can leave two adults together without worrying we’ll turn into
horny teenagers.”

“Fair
enough,” Mason grumbles, shaking his head at me as he moves toward the door.
“I’ll be checking in.”

“Bring
Ev next time. I’m sure Macy would like the company,” I reply, locking the door
behind him.

“What
an ass,” Macy quips.

Laughing,
I flop onto the couch beside her. “Are you ready to binge on American Horror
Story?”

“Absolutely.”
I’m nearly knocked out by the sunny smile on her face as she hands me a donut
and curls up on the couch.

* * * *

I
manage to keep my hands to myself over the next few days, well mostly. We seem
to end up cuddled together on the couch every evening for our nightly movie,
but it’s completely innocent. So what if I end up with a completely innocent
hard on?

A
few hours after Macy goes to bed, I hear a noise, a little whimper. Shit. She
must be having another panic attack. She hasn’t had one for over a week and I
was hoping she never would. I ease open her door, trying not to wake her if
she’s just making noises in her sleep.

My
feet are nailed to the floor at the sight in front of me. She doesn’t see me in
the shadows or notice the door is open. Maybe because she’s topless with her
panties around one ankle, her head thrown back while her fingers plunge and rub
between her legs.

My
cock instantly turns to stone, straining against my pajama pants when her low
moan turns to a gasp. Her fingers move to her clit, and as if my night couldn’t
get any better, she moans, “Yes, Parker.” It’s a sight I’ll never forget,
Macy’s slender sexy body writhing as she comes with my name on her lips.

If
I had any doubt that she’s been struggling with the same urges I have, it’s
gone now. That was amazing, fantastic, fucking awesome. If I was a chick I’d
write about it in my damn diary. I’m still standing in the doorway, gawking
when she sits up to pull her panties back on and shrieks, “Parker!”

Damn,
I’m frozen, stuck like a deer in the headlights, staring at her headlights.
Stunned by the beauty and sensuality of what I just witnessed. “What the fuck?
Get out!” she yells, jerking the blanket to her neck.

“I…sorry…I
thought you were having a panic attack.”

“So
you stayed to watch! Get out!” Moonlight streams across her outraged face,
revealing the fierce blush that sweeps across her cheeks before she turns and
buries her face in a pillow. I can’t walk away or she’ll never face me again.
She’ll be calling Mason first thing in the morning to get her out of here. I
have to find a way to smooth this over.

She
groans when I sit on the bed beside her. “I wasn’t spying on you. I thought you
were panicking or having a nightmare and came to check on you.”

“I
know. Please go away.”

“It’s
really dark. I couldn’t see anything.”

“Liar,”
she mumbles, her voice muffled by the pillow. “You going to try to tell me you
couldn’t hear anything either?”

“Not
a thing.” Except the cock stiffening sound of her moaning my name.

“Parker,
I’m not mad, just please go back to bed.”

“I
know you aren’t pissed, you’re embarrassed, and we need to get past it right
now or you’ll avoid me for days.”

“Sounds
like a plan.”

“Nope.”
I scoot closer to her and lay a hand on her hip. “Not going to happen. So, what
can I do to convince you it’s no big deal? I know, we can make it even. You can
watch me stroke my poker.”

“Oh
my god. Stop.” I can hear amusement in her voice, though her face is still
hidden in a pillow.

“What?
I’m just saying, if you watch me fist my mister, you might feel better.”

“You
have to shut up,” she says with a giggle. “Christ, who has that many names for
it?”

“Doll,
making the bald man cry has been my favorite pastime since I was eleven. I have
endless names for it.” Her hair is soft under my fingers when she lets me turn
her head away from the pillow, allowing her musical laughter to fill the room.
“That’s better. So you were diddling your skittle, it’s no reason to be
embarrassed.” I have to tease her a little.

Laughing,
she tries to shove me off the bed. “Hey, it’s okay to love your muppet, baby,
that’s all I’m saying.”

“You
really need to grow up,” she replies through her giggles.

“Fine,
we’ll use scientific terms. You were participating in digital clitoral
oscillation.”

“If
you shut up right now and forget this ever happened, I’ll forgive you.”