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“Can it not be both?” I fire back.
“Yeah,” she agrees, “it can be both.” She takes a seat on the bench in the shower. “This would be great if they had a wand here, so when your significant other is shaving her legs, she can rinse off.” She points at the wall. “Or you know, after a game when you’re exhausted, and you want to shower, but you’re too damn tired. You could just sit here and do your thing.”
“I could always have one installed.” I don’t tell her that I’m picturing her with a different kind of wand. You know, the one otherwise known as my cock.
“You could, but Holden, this is a lot of money. If it’s not everything you could ever want it to be, then pass until you find what you’ve always wanted.”
It’s not lost on me that when I try to think about what I’ve always wanted, it’s her face that comes to mind. Is it possible to want something, to want someone so bad, even when you never knew it’s what or who you wanted?
“Let’s go check out the downstairs.” She steps out of the shower and moves past me.
I want to reach out and lace her fingers with mine, but I know I’ve already pushed my luck today. My actions have not reflected our agreement of going slow. I blame her. She’s too damn sexy and intoxicating for me to keep a level head when she’s close.
Forty minutes later, we’ve walked through the entire first floor and the finished basement. Parker was right when she said this place was huge.
“So, tell me, does this place feel like home to you?” she asks as we slip back into our coats.
“Not really.”
She nods. “You didn’t seem to be feeling it.”
“It’s a beautiful home, but I want to see the others.”
“Well, Mr. Bailey, what are we waiting for?” She pulls open the front door and steps outside. I hit the remote start on my truck to get the cab warmed up before stepping up to Tosha’s car.
“We’re ready for house number two.” The real estate agent nods, and I turn away, not sparing her another glance. How could I when I have Parker sitting in my truck waiting for me?
“I’m starving,” I announce when we reach the truck. We just left the third house, and it's late afternoon, closer to dinnertime than lunch.
“Where are you taking me?” she asks.
“What sounds good?”
“Anything. I’m withering away over here, Bailey,” she teases.
“I should have stopped before this house,” I admit.
“It’s fine. I’m just messing with you, but food is our next stop.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I chuckle. I’ve noticed I’ve been doing a lot of that today. Parker is so much fun to be around. She’s real and honest. She gave me her thoughts on each house as we toured them. I’m not used to women not throwing themselves at me. To have an actual meaningful conversation is new and welcome. Most of the women in my orbit just want the status that comes with being seen with me. Parker doesn’t want or need that, and it’s refreshing.
She’s refreshing.
My phone rings, and Mom flashes across the screen in my truck. I glance over at Parker and grin. I hit the button to accept the call. “Hey, Mom. You’re on speaker,” I warn her.
She laughs. “Thanks for the warning. I just wanted to tell you that Dad and I are going to a movie. I made baked spaghetti. It’s in the fridge.”
“You spoil me.”
“I enjoy it. How was house hunting?”
“Good. Looked at all three.”
“And?”
“And I’m processing,” I admit.
“Well, take all the time you need. You know that Dad and I are happy to have you home with us.”
“Ash, you ready?” my dad says in the background.
“Your dad’s impatient. I’ll see you when we get home. Love you.” The call ends before I can tell her that I love her too.
“Your mom is sweet.”
“She’s the best. Both of them are. I got lucky in the parentals department.”
“You and me both. My dad is one of a kind. He adopted my older sister,” she says.
I glance over at her, and her eyes are wide. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I just told you that. Please don’t say anything. I mean, it’s public knowledge, and they didn’t hide it, but that was years ago.”
This time, I don’t fight it. I reach over and place my hand on her thigh. “I promise I won’t say anything. He’s a good man.”
“The best,” she agrees.
“How about we head to my parents’ place? I promise you my mom’s baked spaghetti is not something you want to miss.”
“Are you sure that’s okay?”
“I’m positive. We’ll stop there and eat, and I’ll have you back at your car before they get home. You don’t have to worry about meeting the parents,” I tease.
