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I agreed. “Lonely, too. Has she had disappointments in relationships in the past?”
“Not really. But she’s definitely romantic. She wants to be adored and taken care of, and this guy seems to be perfect. He’s so freaking into her. He really listens when she talks, and he remembers important things she’s said. He takes care of her, like when she… dropped a tray of drinks, he pulled her out of the way so she wouldn’t cut herself.”
“He sounds like a good guy.” I wasn’t sure what he wanted me to say.
“He is. I’ve met him several times. He’s a really, really good guy.” Mikey’s eyes had an intensity to them that unnerved me. “Can you imagine preferring a fictional fantasy to a good, devoted guy in real life?”
I opened my mouth to respond when the pieces finally fell into place with a loud and obnoxious snap. “It’s safer to cling to the fantasy,” I said, trying to act casual. “Real life is much messier. The fantasy can’t break your heart.”
Truman spoke up from his spot halfway sprawled across Sam’s lap. “But it can’t reach something on the high shelf for you either.”
“Or rub your feet after a long day,” Darius said, glancing at Miller.
“Or arrest overly aggressive paparazzi to keep you safe,” added Finn.
“Or suck cock until you accidentally alert the people in the stalls next to you,” Tiller said, returning from the pantry with a tall stack of plates.
Mikey shot him the bird. “It wasn’t people, asshole. It was your father and uncle.”
Parker followed Tiller with his own armload of dishes. His were thick soup bowls, which he set down with a clatter next to a tall pot of something simmering on the stove.
Tiller winked at me. “And that’s why they send him tulips now on his birthday.”
Thankfully, the subject changed as Mikey got up to continue working on getting dinner on the table. Parker fixed me a drink from the supplies on the kitchen island and brought it over.
“Go easy. I made it strong,” he warned.
The vodka cranberry looked like a dream come true, and I gulped down a healthy swig before thanking him. “Bless you. You’re my favorite.”
He leaned over to press a kiss to the top of my head before returning to the counter to get his own soda. I didn’t think much of it since it was the kind of affectionate gesture he’d always made with me. Even before this weirdness between us, we’d been unusually physically affectionate. I probably wouldn’t have even noticed it if Truman hadn’t sighed happily.
I glanced up at him.
“For me, it’s the forehead kiss,” he said, leaning his head on Sam’s shoulder. “Gets me every time.”
Sam dipped his chin to rest his lips on Truman’s forehead. “Love you,” he murmured softly.
It hit me hard in the chest. Apparently, I’d been lying my ass off when I’d implied the fantasy was better than reality.
Because I wanted that. And I wanted it with Parker Ellis.
I glanced over at the counter in time to meet Parker’s gaze. He lifted a brow in question. You okay? his expression asked.
How the hell was I supposed to know?
I nodded so he wouldn’t worry, but it was a lie. I wasn’t truly okay. I was at a major crossroads. This week was supposed to have been my week of mourning the loss of the Parker fantasy once and for all before moving forward to embrace a different path.
But now I was right back in it. The Parker fantasy was alive and well and dipping its toes into becoming reality.
What would happen if I dove in expecting a nice long swim and it turned out Parker only wanted a quick, refreshing dip?
The soup course passed in comfortable company. Conversation was easy, and Parker seemed to enjoy several of the Aster Valley men he hadn’t gotten to meet yet.
It wasn’t until Mikey and Tiller had served us all the next course, heaping plates of gorgeous artisan salad, that the interrogation began in earnest.
It came from an unexpected quarter. Declan pinned Parker with his cool sheriff’s gaze. “Since no one else seems to have the balls to put it out there, I’m going to go ahead and ask. How can you go from getting ready to marry a woman on Saturday to publicly claiming Julian with that kiss today?”
Silence descended. Only the clink of forks hitting plates broke through. I rushed to defend him. “He’s understandably upset. He’s been through a lot. He didn’t know what he was—”
Parker’s hand gripped my thigh and squeezed. “Stop,” he said softly. “Because your words are upsetting me more than his right now.”
I looked anywhere but at him. He was right. I knew how much it upset him for me to blame this connection, our connection, on his “confusion” or disappointment over Erin. It wasn’t fair of me.
