Somebody to Love (13 page)

But he didn’t. She saw him a few months later, when, instructed by Harry, he dropped by with some mutual-fund papers she needed to sign.

He never mentioned anything about their hookup.

And even though it was what she’d asked for, it was oddly disappointing.

CHAPTER TEN

P
ARKER
WAS
SHOWERING
. Not ten feet from his bedroom, Parker Welles was naked and wet.

Okay. Probably not the most productive way to start the day. She’d already blown him off in spectacular fashion once in his life. But she was naked and wet and near, so these thoughts were apparently unavoidable.

Since yesterday, when she accepted that she really did need some help here, Parker had been very civilized, oh, yes. She always was. Nope, he was not allowed to see behind the curtain, as it were.

Except for that one time at her cousin’s wedding. Damn. When she’d leaned in and kissed him on those stairs, he actually froze for a second, convinced he was hallucinating the whole thing. But no. The memory of what had followed would live on the trophy shelf of James’s mind till the day he died.

And afterward, when he was convinced she was having not only second thoughts, but third, fourth and fifth thoughts, too, she agreed to hang out with him. She kissed him on the cheek. Which, in its own way, meant more than even the unbelievable shag.

Then he’d run smack into Harry at the base of the stairs.
Hey, Harry, I just finished doing your daughter. How’s it going?

So what was he supposed to do?

He figured he’d take his lead from Parker, and she’d been her usual frosty self with Harry. Then Harry had taken him off to meet some Rhode Island senator, and yeah, maybe it had been more than a few minutes. But he hadn’t expected her to bolt, either. Texted her, got no answer. Maybe something had come up with her kid. But Harry was power-drinking and, as usual, wanted company. James called Parker; no answer. When Harry insisted on going back to the city because of a Sunday-morning brunch he couldn’t miss, James went with him, knowing his boss was sloppy, feeling that mix of pity and love he always did when Harry overindulged. And now, maybe, he was taking care of not only his boss, but of Parker’s father. Drove all the way back to Rhode Island so he could see her the next day.

Whereupon he’d gone over with flowers and found that he’d become dog shit. Then again, he may well have been dog shit all along. He might’ve just been the guy picked up by the bridesmaid. No one could measure up to the Paragon, after all. A point driven home by the fact that Parker had the guy right there in the house with her.

Not that James really wanted to try to measure up. He’d never pictured himself married, never wanted kids. But the first time he’d ever seen Parker Harrington Welles, staring at her baby as if no one on earth had ever had a baby before, her face so rapt and gentle…something had sneaked up on him in that moment and sucker punched him and reminded him of what he didn’t have, and hadn’t had for a long time.

Somebody to love.

He loved Mary Elizabeth, of course. But that was different.

Then, at The Wedding, he’d felt it again, that sucker punch when she kissed him on the cheek, a moment of believing that Parker…well. Whatever. She didn’t. She’d made that abundantly clear.

So why was he lying in bed, thinking about her? Because he was an idiot, that was why.

The water shut off. James surmised that if he leaped out of bed at this very second, he could probably catch her in her towel. But no, she was quick. The bathroom door opened; her bedroom door closed. He rolled out of his own bed and pulled on some jeans and a T-shirt and went into the kitchen.

A few minutes later, Parker joined him, the little dog slinking at her calves. “Hey,” she said. “I have to run, but I poured boiling water over these mugs last night and washed them three times.” She glanced at him, not quite meeting his eyes. “And luckily, I brought my Keurig, so there’s coffee if you want it.”

“Good morning,” he said.

Her ears went red. “Hi. Sleep well?”

“I did. You?”

“Yes, thank you.” She cleared her throat. “I’m meeting my cousin this morning at the diner. Should I bring something back for you?”

“That’d be great.”

She nodded, pulled her wet hair into a ponytail. “So you really think we can get this place up and running by the time Nicky gets back East?”

“Yeah, definitely,” he said. So long as he worked twenty hours a day or so. “It won’t be what he’s used to, but it’ll be livable.”

“He won’t care. He’ll be so excited about the dog. And the ocean, too. He swims like a fish.” She paused. “As you know.”

“This water’s too cold for swimming,” James said. “It’s not like Rhode Island.”

“Well, he’s five. Hypothermia only deters adults.” She smiled a little, then grew somber. “I was thinking last night about how to pay you,” she began.

How about in sex? You could pay me in sex, most definitely.
“You don’t have to pay me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I do.”

Right. The help must be paid.
“Your father already took care of it,” he lied. “Now, get to the diner. Don’t you have someone waiting for you?”

“Yes. Um, I guess I’ll leave the dog here?”

“Sure,” he said. “We can bond.”

“Good luck with that.” Her smile hit him in the chest like a line drive.

Three weeks together before her kid came up. Three weeks alone with Parker Harrington Welles. He didn’t know whether to laugh or shoot himself.

* * *

T
O
P
ARKER
’
S
SURPRISE
, Joe’s Diner was mobbed; for such a tiny town, she wouldn’t have guessed there’d be a line. Then again, it was the only place in town, from what she’d seen yesterday. The smell of dark-roasted coffee and bacon greeted her, practically making her knees buckle. That pizza last night hadn’t been anything to write home about…and then again, there was James watching her, which was proving to be quite uncomfortable.

All that work he did—for her—well, Harry was paying him, but still, that smile of his brought up some very conflicted memories.

Because you were slutty,
chided Golly.

“You have a point,” Parker said.

“Morning,” said a rough voice, making her jump.

Oh, yes.
This
was more like it. Fling Material. The guy with one name. Malone, that was it, in all his blue-collar glory. “Hi,” she said. “Hi again. Great to see you. How are you? Malone, right? You were very, um, helpful the other night.”

He stared at her. Not smiling. A little scary, even. Parker swallowed and tried again. “So, Malone, I think I owe you a drink, since you straightened me out on my little property issue and all. Which I can’t say I appreciate, really. I would’ve much preferred the first house.”

So out of practice on this boy-girl stuff.

Maybe it’s not so bad,
Spike commented.
He’s smiling.

It was true. A little, anyway. “You going in?” he asked.

“Yes, yes.” Parker pushed through the door of the little diner and turned back to Malone. “Um, I’m meeting my cousin Lavinia Harrington. I don’t suppose you know her, do you?”

“Last booth on the left.” He nodded, then turned as someone slapped him on the shoulder.

Last booth on the left. A woman—or possibly a man—sat there, studying the menu. She looked up as Parker approached. “Pahkah?” Lavinia Harrington looked like she sounded—somewhat ravaged. Deep, leathery face framed with frizzy white hair.

“Hi,” Parker said, squeezing past a buxom woman holding a baby. “It’s really nice to—”

“Hurry it up, girl. Sit down.”

Parker obeyed, sliding into the red vinyl seat. “So, you’re Lavinia,” she began. “I’m not one-hundred-percent sure how we’re related, to tell you the truth.”

“Could you hush up for a few? There’s a surprise planned.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Rather a strange welcome. She looked around at the diner, which was gleaming and adorable, like a piece of Norman Rockwell. Every seat was filled—families in booths, people sitting at the counter, babies, toddlers, old folks— Oh, hey, there were the Three Musketeers from the hardware store yesterday. She waved, but they didn’t see her.

At the counter directly across from Parker’s booth was the stacked woman and her baby, who was dressed in blue. Six months, Parker guessed, all drool and smiles. God, Nicky had been so cute at that age! The mother wore a low-cut blouse, and a young guy next to her stared appreciatively at her wares. Aside from him, everyone seemed to be looking out the window and murmuring excitedly.

“Here she comes, here she comes,” announced a woman about Parker’s age. “Act normal, everyone!”

“Maggie, Maggie!” said the toddler next to her. “Maggie coming!”

“Shh,” the dad said. “Be cool, Violet, sweetheart.”

Like everyone else, Parker watched as a woman approached the diner, a yellow Lab on her heels, two grocery bags in her arms. “Okay, Octavio,” she said, pushing through the door. “I can’t believe we ran out of bacon and eggs when I could’ve sworn—” She stopped in her tracks. Her gaze flicked around the diner, eyes wide. “Where did everyone come from?” she asked. “Mom! What are you doing here? Did someone die?” Her voice trailed off as her eyes stopped on Malone.

Parker sighed…not with happiness, like everyone else in the place. Indeed, the woman with the toddler had tears sliding down her cheeks—hang on, she was twins with this Maggie person, apparently. The busty woman tilted her head on the young guy’s shoulder and smiled. Indeed, everyone was smiling.

And here it comes,
Parker thought. Sure enough, Malone, who was clearly
not
going to be her summer fling, got down on one knee and held up a small black velvet box. Yep. She just asked that guy out. The one on bended knee.

“Jeezum crow, Malone,” Maggie squeaked. A grinning man wearing a white apron stepped forward and took the grocery bags out of her arms.

“Well?” Malone said, a smile playing on his face. Everyone in the diner laughed—clearly some insider joke.

“Well, what?” Maggie said, a wobbly smile working its way through her tears.

Malone seemed to groan a little, and another laugh went through the crowd. “All right, then.” He paused, took a deep breath and soldiered on. “I love you, Maggie, have for a long time, and I’d be real glad to wake up next to you every day for the rest of my life. You and the dog, that is.” Another laugh, and now Malone’s face was gentle. “Will you marry me?”

“Oh, that was great. Yes, absolutely, yes, Malone, I thought you’d never ask.” She half laughed, half wept, and Malone rose and kissed her, and everyone cheered.

Oh! We have the Warm Fuzzles!
the Holy Rollers crowed.

You sicken me,
Parker thought. Still, the HRs had a point. It was all lovely. Her eyes were even a little wet, too, and several people were openly weeping. The twin was hugging Maggie now, and the toddler was jumping up and down. An older woman holding an infant was crying, as well. The whole place was congratulating the happy couple, slapping Malone on the back, kissing Maggie. Young people, old people, in-betweens…seemed as if the whole town was there.

For one brief second, Parker tried to imagine this scene happening to her. Yeah. No. She wasn’t really the Warm Fuzzles type, despite having invented the nauseating term.

Across the booth, Lavinia coughed, an alarming sound, then nodded as if satisfied. “We been watchin’ these two for some time,” she said in her rusty voice. “Malone asked us all to come, wanted his daughter here. She’s from away. But he figured Maggie’d like that. Seems he was right.”

A party seemed to be breaking out—orange juice and champagne were offered, and a few people were coming in and out of the kitchen with goodies. A thickly built waitress plunked a plate of Danish pastries down in front of her, and Parker snagged one. “Think I could get some coffee?” she asked. “I’m dying for a little caffeine.”

“Help yourself,” she said, making her way through the crowd.

“I’ll get it, this being your first time and all,” Lavinia said, sliding out of the booth.

Parker looked around, the only stranger here, it seemed. Rolly gave her a wave, but he was on the other side of the diner, talking to a young man with Down syndrome. Parker looked at the little jukebox at her table. Oldies but goodies. Tried not to feel awkward.

Little Maggot looked around. He didn’t know any other maggots on the entire roadkill. If only he was better at making friends!

“Hi there!”

Parker looked up at the bride-to-be and Malone, who nodded. “Sorry, the service kind of sucks this morning,” the woman said. “Because this guy here, he told everyone we know to show up. And I had
no
idea. How is that possible, I ask you? I mean, I know everybody, right? Except you. Hi, I’m Maggie, and I know you’re Julia Harrington’s niece. Sorry to be babbling. I’m a little overwhelmed. Because I’m engaged.” She bit her lip and looked at the ring herself, then kissed Malone’s cheek. “It’s so beautiful, Malone. I love it.”

She showed off the ring. Three-quarters of a carat, maybe, fourteen-karat gold. Parker’s mother’s last engagement ring had been five carats, framed by a ring of twelve smaller diamonds, set in platinum and big enough to choke a seventh grader.