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Chapter One
Parker
Iwastryingtoconcentrate, swear to God I was, but the newest Assistant Graphic Designer walked by the conference room I’d been holed up in and I nearly fell out of my chair trying to get a better look at his ass in his impossibly tight gray slacks.
“You okay, Parker?” the assistant assigned to our department, Leigh, asked as I scrambled to right myself and knocked over a glass of water, immediately drenching a dozen images of the client’s property, which I’d printed and spread on the table.
“Damn it,” I muttered. “Can you get some paper towels?” I yanked the images off the table and shook them out while Leigh hurried to find something for me to mop up my mess with.
When Leigh returned with a stack of paper towels in her hand, she helped me sop up the water from the table. “You seem pretty distracted today. Everything okay?”
I picked up a soaking wad of towels and tossed them in the nearby trash can. “I’m great. Just distracted.”
“That’s… that’s what I just said.”
“You did?”
She nodded and grabbed the last of the trash. “You sure you’re okay?”
I shrugged, trying to ignore the question. The truth was, distraction was my middle name those days. My boss had assigned me the role of creative manager to run the campaign for Amante Bay, an all-inclusive honeymoon resort off the coast of Italy. Instead of crushing it and landing myself a promotion, I’d been completely thrown off by the marriages of not one buttwoof my best friends and the fact that I would turn thirty in just a few weeks. It wasn’t that I wanted to get married—far from it—but between the weddings and my birthday, I was really feeling my age.
“Parker?”
I looked at Leigh and blinked. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?”
With a sigh, she shook her head. “Just worried about you. Oh, hi, Armand.”
I looked to the doorway so quickly that I could’ve gotten whiplash. The Assistant Graphic Designer I’d nearly killed myself to look at just a few minutes prior had stopped to talk to us—well, probably just Leigh. While they talked, though, Armand kept cutting his glance in my direction. I summoned my confidence and leaned on the back of a chair.
“What are you up to this weekend, Armand?” Before he could respond, the chair rolled out from under me and I nearly face-planted on the floor, catching myself on the table just before I hit the ground. I stood, feeling as ungraceful as I was sure I looked, Armand’s eyes wide. “Sorry. I’m okay. I’m not usually this clumsy, I swear.”
Armand cleared his throat. “Your, um, fly is open.”
I looked down, horrified to see he was right. I zipped it quickly, my face heating. I ran one hand over my shaved head and laughed self-consciously. “Whoops.”
He turned to Leigh. “Yeah, I can absolutely make Friday work. Just let me know.” He knocked twice on the doorframe before walking away.
When he was gone, Leigh burst out laughing. “Oh my God. Are you okay?”
I shook my head miserably and let out a long, slow exhale. The only thing really injured was my pride. “So, you two are going on a date? I didn’t know he was straight.”
Leigh’s eyes widened and her cheeks flushed pink. “You really are having an off day. No, we’re not going on a date. We were talking about meeting on Friday for you to go over what he’s come up with so far for Amante Bay.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, ‘oh.’ Now, run to your office to hide for the rest of the day before a piano falls on you or something. I’ll take these to the conference room to dry off.”
“Thanks. I owe you.”
Leigh just nodded and shooed me away, and I did exactly as she suggested. I hurried back to my office and closed the door, sighing as I sank into my comfortable desk chair. On my desk were a handful of photos, including one of me with my best friends at Theo and Nate’s wedding. We were all smiling and holding beers, looking happier than ever, but as I studied the photo of the six of us plus Nate, my chest ached, and I didn’t know why.
Theo was a part of our friend group and kickball team, Out and Kickin’, and he’d married Nate almost six months ago. Just weeks before their wedding, Cam and Oliver got married. I was grateful that I still had three other single guys in our friend group to hang out with, even if they did give me shit about sleeping around so much.
Part of me wondered if I’d ever get married. I couldn’t really imagine myself walking down the aisle, someone waiting to love me forever. Part of me was ready torundown the aisle to get it over with and to get my mom off my back. Not only that, the idea of having someone consistent to come home to every night, someone to care for and to take care of me… it wasveryappealing. It wasn’t really on-brand for me, so I’d never confess it to the guys, but if I was being honest with myself, I kind of wanted it, and I wished I had someone to share it with. I was nearly thirty, and all I had to show for it was my house and my job. I knew those things were plenty to be proud of, but I wanted more.
As a kid, my best friend and I had made a promise to get married to each other if we turned thirty and were still single. I smiled a little at the memory. Even though I hadn’t talked to Travis Weston in years, I still thought of him sometimes. I saw his posts on social media occasionally, but as for an actual conversation, we hadn’t had one since… I couldn’t remember when. We’d grown apart after high school and hadn’t reconnected in the years since.
With a sigh, I went back to work, staring at the old campaign for Amante Bay and flipping through photos of the property until the end of the day. It was Tuesday, the day my siblings and I had a weekly meal with our parents, mostly at my mom’s insistence, so when the clock hit five, I got in my car and headed to the house I grew up in.
