Tyler and I had kissed and touched–enough that I thought I knew what I was getting into. But our joining had more in common with an arranged marriage than a romance. Tyler wanted me to wait for our wedding.
I hadn't understood why a man like Tyler would want a virgin bride until it was too late.
Nothing like an innocent bride who didn't know her own body, or what she should expect. Over the years, I'd had very little sex that I'd enjoyed and a whole lot that I tolerated, at best. Sex with Nash was not remotely in the same category.
A little wine, the warm buzz of companionship, and I jumped at the chance to touch Nash. Literally. I'm not sure he expected my enthusiasm, but he took full advantage. Just remembering the way I'd pulled at his clothes–getting him mostly naked before we made it out of the kitchen–had my cheeks burning and my nipples peaking.
Laughing, he'd scooped me up and carried me to his bed, laying me out on the crisp, white sheets and worshipping every inch of me until I was screaming his name, begging for release. He gave it to me. Again and again. I hoped it was as good for him as it was for me. I didn't have enough experience to guess. The whole thing had my head spinning until I didn't know which way was up. We'd had sex three times. How, I don't know. I didn't think men could do it that often. It couldn't be normal.
Why would it be? Nothing about Nash was normal. And none of that mattered.
I scrubbed my palms over my face, trying to banish the lingering heat from my dream. I'd taken advantage of Nash and I couldn't bring myself to regret it. Especially since I finally knew what sex was supposed to be like. I thought all those romance novels were lying. Until Nash, the only orgasms I'd ever had came from my own fingers.
Was it any wonder I was dreaming of him? That was probably the best sex I'd ever have, for the rest of my life. My heart sank at that idea. Would I be waking from sleep, dreaming of Nash, decades from now?
How depressing. Surely there was a man out there who was as good as Nash. I'd settle for half as good. A quarter. My gut answered with a firm, no. There wasn't anyone as good as Nash.
I rolled over, folding my pillow and shoving it under my head. Fine, then my next partner would be sub-par. I'd learn to live with that because Nash was my past. I was moving on from all of them, except Claudia. My future was here, in Sawyers Bend, with my family. I'd have to settle for my memories–every orgasmic minute of them–because I'd never get the real thing again.
Letting out a pathetic sigh, I tried to fall back to sleep, minus the sex dream this time. The last thing I needed was to be hung up on a man I couldn't have. Or any man, for that matter. I'd gone from my father's house to Tyler's. It was time to stand on my own two feet, just Parker, no man involved.
Squeezing my pillow, I let out another sigh. In the light of day, my newfound independence felt powerful. In my bed, in the dark, it mostly felt lonely.
ChapterTwelve
PARKER
The small, borrowed printer on my desk hummed, spitting out a page and chugging along to the next. It was slow, and I didn't have color ink, but it worked and it was free, so I wasn't complaining. Sterling, currently on pause selling her own things, had given me the rest of her shipping supplies, along with the printer Griffen had let her use when she was actively selling her stuff.
I was extremely pleased to note that I'd had seven successful sales so far and was about to use the last of my borrowed supplies. A few days before, Sterling and I had taken a field trip to Asheville to sell some of the smaller pieces of jewelry Tyler had bought me. It hadn't amounted to much money–Sterling refused to let me bring more, insisting that I'd get a better price when we could go to her guy in Atlanta–but it was enough to put a little cash in my pocket. Enough that I wouldn't have to borrow money to replenish my shipping supplies.
I did a little dance before I carefully folded a linen suit around a piece of tissue paper and wrapped it in another, sealing the package with a gold sticker I'd gotten from Sterling. Attractive presentation, she'd instructed, went a long way in warding off buyer complaints. I didn't know if my buyer would care, but I liked how pretty the suit was in its tissue wrapping. It would be fun to open if nothing else.
Folding the packing slip and setting it on top, I slid everything into a padded envelope and sealed it, smoothing the mailing label on the front. Selling my things wasn't going to change my life, but it was forward movement. At least I was taking action on something instead of sitting around waiting for Angie to call and tell me Tyler had agreed to sign the divorce papers.
So far he was agreeing to absolutely nothing. He'd fired the lawyer Claudia had found, declaring that he wouldn't be bullied into abandoning his marriage. That was exactly how he put it. Because in his mind, I was the bully, and he was the poor, innocent victim being forced from his wife's side.
Yeah, right. No one who knew either of us would believe it, but that was the story he was telling himself and anyone else who would listen. I reminded myself that it didn't matter. I had a life to live and Tyler's lies weren't going to stop me.
And speaking of having a life to live, before I took the packages to town to mail, I had one last thing to do. Stacking my packages on the front passenger seat of my car, I closed the door and went back in to the house. I made my way to Griffen's office and knocked lightly.
Both he and Hope called for me to come in at the same time. When she saw it was me, Hope stood. "I have to check in with Savannah on some things. I'll get out of your way."
"You don't have to leave–" I started to say, but she squeezed my arm and smiled as she passed me.
"I know. I lost track of time. I didn't realize until you knocked that I'd told Savannah I'd come down to see her half an hour ago. I won't be long. Unless you need me?"
Hope waited, and I knew if I wanted her to stay, she would. I almost asked her, a little nervous to start this conversation with Griffen. But I'm a grown woman and I don't need to use my sister-in-law as a buffer, no matter how tempting the idea.
"No, we're good. Thanks." With another smile and an affectionate squeeze to my arm, she was gone. I faced Griffen with a flutter of nerves in my stomach.
"Everything okay?" He asked, gesturing to the empty chair in front of his desk. "Do you want tea? Lunch?"
"No, I'm good. I just have a few questions." I sat in the chair opposite Griffen, hearing the high pitch of my voice. Ugh. I hated being nervous, especially when I shouldn't be. This was Griffen. He'd been nothing but kind since he came home. I had no reason to be nervous. Still, I was. Shifting in the chair, I smoothed my skirt over my knees and tried to figure out where to start. I'd practiced this, dammit.
Before I could say anything, Griffen did. "How are things going with Tyler?"
"Angie didn't tell you?" I asked, tartly.
