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“I’m sure that’s why she thinks it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay.” I’m frustrated as hell over this.

“She assumes this time is not any different to any others.”

“I’ve never met her before,” I defend.

“Maybe not, but you’re a professional athlete, a gorgeous one, and you get a lot of media attention. We’ve all seen you on the red carpet of a gala flirting with the female interviewer, with a beautiful woman on your arm.”

“Fuck,” I mutter in frustration. A sudden panic rises in my chest. I’m fearful that she’s never going to see past all of that. How can I make her see that this is different? That me spending time with her is different. Sure, it didn’t start that way, but well, now it is. It takes one long stride to be standing toe-to-toe with her. My hands cup her face, and I angle her head so that she’s looking at me.

“This is different, Parker. You’re different.” Something flashes in her eyes, but it’s gone before I can get a read on what it was.

“This isn’t slow,” she whispers. She swallows hard, and I want to press my lips against her pulse anything that connects me to her on a deeper level. I crave that connection with her.

“Trust me. This is slow. If it wasn’t, I’d already have had my lips on yours. I’m not going to stand here and spout bullshit that I don’t understand. All I know is that this started out as less. You shot me down, and I wanted you. It’s as simple as that. However, things aren’t that simple anymore. You’re all I think about, and I crave the moments I get to spend with you. I can’t see anyone but you, and that should scare me, but it doesn’t. So, yeah, this is definitely different.” She’s staring up at me with what looks like hope in her eyes. She’s hoping that I’m not feeding her a line of shit, I’m sure. I’m going to prove to her that I’m a man of my word.

I want to kiss her. I want to bend my head just a little farther and press my lips to hers. I want to taste her. I want to know if her lips are as soft as they look. I run through the ramifications in my head. I told her we’d go slow, but dammit, the need to kiss her is strong.

“How’s it going?” Tosha says from behind us, effectively ruining the moment.

Closing my eyes, I push down the anger of being interrupted. Did I not ask her to give us some time? Dropping my hands from my girl’s face, I turn to look at the woman over my shoulder. “We’ve been up here maybe five minutes. I asked you to give us some time.”

“Do you have any questions?” she pushes.

I’ve had enough of this woman. “No. We’re done here.” I reach for Parker’s hand, and surprisingly, she’s there, ready and willing to lace her fingers with mine.

“Oh, okay, well, off to the next house,” Tosha purrs.

“Actually, we’re done here. I’ll be calling your agency and getting a new agent assigned to us, and we can look at the houses then.” Tosha’s face pales. “You’ve blatantly flirted with me, and she’s right here. My hand is locked in hers, and you damn well know it.”

“I-I’m sorry, Hold” she starts, but I cut her off.

“It’s Mr. Bailey. I will be talking to your supervisor.” This isn’t me. I’m pretty even-keeled with this kind of thing, but Parker makes every situation mean more. She deserves respect, and I refuse to work with someone who won’t give it to her. It’s eye-opening and different for me, but it feels right, and I know that it is, so I’m going with it.

“Mr. Bailey,” she quickly corrects. “What can I do?”

“You can go sit in your car and let us have time to explore this place. You can apologize to my girl, and you will treat her with respect.”

Tosha turns to look at Parker. “I’m sorry. I’ll be outside if you need me.” She turns and rushes down the stairs as fast as her skyscraper heels will take her.

“I’m sorry,” I say, pulling Parker into a hug. Fuck me, but it feels good to have her wrapped up in my arms like this. I don’t know what’s happening here, but I do know that whatever it is, I don’t want it to stop.

She pulls out of my embrace. “Come on, let’s have a look around.” With a small smile, she steps into the room, and we do just that.

All the bedrooms have their own bathroom. The master suite is huge, and the bathroom is bigger than my room at my parents’ place. “We could definitely play baseball in here.”

“I’m not sure if you’re channeling your inner Nickelback or if it’s just your love of the game,” Parker teases as she steps into the shower, turning in circles with her arms stretched out beside her.

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