Deep down, I knew that's what this was about.
This time. Tyler was determined to win. To finally beat me at something. The real question was, win at what? He wasn't going to get Parker back. He didn't jump at the chance for cash when she offered it. So what did Tyler consider a win? What did he really want?
Until we found the answer to that question, I wasn't leaving Parker's side. I finally had everything I'd dreamed about from the day I met her. I wasn't going to lose her now.
Whatever Tyler had planned, he was going to have to go through me first.
Somehow, I didn't think the idea of that would bother Tyler in the slightest.
ChapterThirty-Two
NASH
"One second, baby, I just need to check the tracking on this order." Parker reached up to kiss my jaw before turning her attention back to the data on her tablet screen.
I didn't love that she was selling her things, but I was so fucking proud of the way she took on every challenge. The stock in her online shop was cleverly photographed and displayed, and she was moving inventory at a brisk pace.
It was the same with the cottage. She might not have had experience with renovation, but she was relentless, researching or asking Billy Bob about everything, learning in leaps and bounds.
Her slender body curved into mine, her velvet couch more than big enough for the two of us to stretch out together. I'd already set my laptop on the coffee table, finally finished with work for the day and ready to distract Parker. Preferably a naked distraction.
Nuzzling the top of her head, I reached down to cup one full breast. Her swift intake of breath had her pausing, the tablet in her hand wavering. I pressed my advantage, reaching across to–
Parker swatted my questing hands away. "Don't you have more email to deal with?" she asked, her starchy tone ruined by a breathless laugh.
"Nope, all done." That was a lie, but I'd long given up on the idea of inbox zero. I'd handled everything I needed to get to, and that would have to be good enough. I was more interested in Parker than my email. By far.
"Find something else to occupy yourself for five minutes and then I'll be done too."
I pulled her down the couch, turning on my side so I was reclined and she leaned against me as a backrest. "Good?"
"Umhm," she murmured, settling in, her eyes on the screen.
I let my eyes close. A nap would do until Parker finished her work. I'd learned she was hard to distract when she was focused on a project. That was fine with me, since I was her project more often than not. I'd quickly learned that being the subject of Parker's focus was better than I'd dreamed.
For most of the time I'd known her, Parker had been more concept than reality. We'd had moments together, sure. Those moments had fed my feelings for her, kept them going during the long stretches of time when I only heard about her from my mother. There were things I knew were true–that Paker was kind, intelligent, loyal, loving, and far more than Tyler deserved.
But I didn't know the little things. That she always hung up her clothes. That her fixation on her morning coffee was a little intense. She was affectionate with the people she loved, hugging her siblings and friends often, touching me whenever we were close enough. Even now, her free hand lazily stroked my hip as she worked.
I'd wondered so many times over the years if the real Parker could possibly live up to the dream. Sex was one thing. After that night in New York I had no doubt we were compatible in bed. Really, I'd known after that kiss on her wedding day, but New York had proved it.
The last week together had been proof of a different nature.
I'd already known we were perfectly matched in bed. The few dates we'd managed away from Heartstone had been better than I'd imagined. But it was one thing to plan a romantic date and another to share a bathroom. We'd gone from years of dancing around each other to living together in a few short days. The risk of implosion was perilously high, especially when you added in Tyler living under the same roof.
So far, there hadn't been an implosion. When it came to the domestic aspects of life, Parker and I fit just as well as we did everywhere else. She could live with me hogging the bed. I didn't mind that her stuff took up most of the bathroom counter.
Those minor issues aside, we were pretty much in sync. We both rose early. We both made the bed in the morning. Neither of us liked to leave stuff lying around, but neither of us was obsessively neat, either.
In the last week, we'd fallen into a comfortable rhythm. Parker's renovation was off schedule, thanks to the ongoing electrical problems in the manor. She still went to the cottage every day to work on her smaller projects, like refinishing the mantel in the upstairs bedroom and sanding down the kitchen cabinets in preparation for repainting.
Savannah found me a folding table and chair, and I brought my laptop to the cottage, tethering to my phone for internet. While Parker worked in the cottage, I worked at my makeshift desk. If I had a meeting or had to leave the Manor, Parker worked in the main house, or came with me.
I'd worried being joined at the hip would wear thin. Not so far. More than the sex, which was fucking spectacular, I just liked being with her. Hanging out, watching a movie, helping her scrape paint. It didn't matter. If Parker was in arms reach, I was good. Better than good. I'd never been this happy.
The only real problem was Tyler. He was still in the Manor, at the dining room table for every meal, acting like a welcome houseguest instead of a despised intruder. Inexplicably, he'd been staying out of our way. After he'd cornered Parker in the cottage, I'd been on high alert.
His words echoed in my brain.
