Somebody to Love (Gideon's Cove #3)

Somebody to Love (Gideon's Cove #3) Page 45

“Nope.”

“Will you come now?”

He hesitated. Glanced at Nick.

“Whoever goes swimming with me gets ten kisses,” Parker announced. “Nicky? Want ten kisses?”

“No,” he said. “You kiss me all the time. I want ten dollars. Or ten lobster claws. Or ten nail guns!”

“Lavinia?” Parker asked.

“I’m with the kid. Ten bucks, maybe. For fifty bucks, definitely.”

“James?”

He looked out to the water. “How far do I have to swim for these ten kisses?” he asked.

“To the raft.”

“She won’t kiss you, James,” Nicky explained, his tone tolerant. “She’s not your mommy.”

“Go on, you two,” Lavinia said. “I’ll watch the kid.”

James glanced at Lavinia, then back at Parker. With a sigh, he pulled his T-shirt over his head.

“Now we’re talking perfect,” Lavinia said, lighting up a cigarette and squinting appreciatively. “Very nice, Jamie.”

Parker took his hand and towed him to the water’s edge, where he stopped. “Come on, James. You can do it.”

“I hate the water.”

“I know.” She went in up to her knees, still holding his hand. “Come on.”

His jaw was tight, and no smile lightened his face at the moment. Took a few steps in. “You’re doing great,” she said, going in a bit deeper, not letting go of his hand. He followed, reluctantly.

When they were waist deep, Parker stopped to let him get acclimated. His face was a little pale under his tan. She swam out a few feet, then turned to look at him. “Harvard Varsity Swim Team, James. Third Olympic alternate. Red Cross certified in lifeguarding.”

“Very impressive,” he murmured, his eyes on the raft. The three boys had gotten back in their canoe and were now fishing in the middle of the lake.

“You can do it,” she said. “You have to someday.”

“Do I?”

“Yep.” Parker swam out a little farther and started to tread water. “Swim to me, beautiful man,” she said. “I’ll take care of you.”

His eyes were dark and a little tormented. “Not fair,” he said, and with that, he dived under the water. He surfaced just past her and swam, steadily, if a little desperately. One yard. Four. Ten. Parker kept pace easily off his right, her eyes never leaving him. When he reached the raft, he grabbed onto the ladder and waited for her to get up first, then followed, water streaming, his hair nearly black with the wetness, drops of moisture sliding down the planes of his face. He didn’t look at her, just sat, breathing hard.

Parker slipped her hand in his. He was shaking. Probably not from cold.

“You did it,” she whispered.

“Hated every second.”

“And you did it,” she repeated.

He still didn’t look at her, just stared back at the shore. Nicky waved. “See? It’s not scary!” he yelled, and James waved back.

The planks of the raft were dry and gray, and the water lapped softly at the edges. A seagull called from overhead. Lavinia coughed, then said something to Nicky. The sound of his laughter floated out to them.

“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.”

Beauty, maybe guessing that James had given the wrong answer, crept closer to him and curled at his side.

“Not horrible.” Parker glanced out at the water. “Okay, maybe this isn’t time for a big conversation, but maybe it is, too. Look, obviously the summer-fling idea has grown into…more. And this afternoon at the lake, I believe you made a certain declaration.” She raised an eyebrow.

“Yes. I did.”

“I’m not proposing or anything, James.” She squeezed her little finger. “I just assumed you meant in a long-term, monogamous kind of way.”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

“You weren’t just drunk with fear?”

He grinned. “Well, there was that. And the sight of you in your bikini. Though, admittedly, you look better out of it.”

She smiled, then looked down at her hands. “Well, someday, maybe, I could see possibly having another baby. Adopting, maybe. Or the other way.”

“With me.”

She closed her eyes. “No, James, with the guy who rotates my tires. I mean, I’m not asking for anything carved in stone, okay? But I like children. And I don’t want to rule out— Well, I’m thinking someday in the distant future, I mean, not too distant, since I’m thirty-five. But not tomorrow, either.” She was squeezing her little finger half to death. “You know what? I shouldn’t have said anything. I have no idea how we got on this subject. Can we forget I ever said anything?” She pulled her hair onto one side of her neck and looked out at the lobster boats.

“I’m in.”

Now who the hell said that?

She blinked a few times. Looked back at him. He didn’t look away.

“You’re in. Like, you’d be interested in a family. Maybe. Someday.”

“Yes.”

He remembered the first time he’d seen her, holding her son.

Pictured the scene again. This time, though, the baby was his, too, and he was the one at her side.

Mine.

He took her hand and kissed it, then looked at her face. “I want to ask you something.”

“Okay,” she breathed.

“You wearing anything under that dress?”

She burst out laughing, the sound bouncing out over the water. “Why don’t you find out, Thing One?”

CHAPTER THIRTY

THE RUMBLE OF A TRUCK in the driveway the next morning made Parker’s heart lift. The sight of James, clad in jeans and a Joe’s Diner T-shirt, had her break into a little trot. “Hey,” she said, ruffling his hair.

“Hey,” he echoed, grinning the I’ve seen you na**d look. Heck yeah!

Nicky was in the yard with Beauty. “James! Watch this. Beauty, roll over! Roll over! Roll over! Like this!” He demonstrated rolling in the grass as the dog yelped happily.

“So,” Parker said, surreptitiously brushing James’s hand with her fingertips, “I thought I’d go see my father today.”

“That’s great,” he said, his smiley eyes so dark and happy. “He’ll be glad to see you. But listen, when you get back, I want to talk to you about something.”

“Oh, right. We never did get to that last night.”