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I don’t even know him that well. It’s not like we dated or spent any time together. He only noticed my existence that one day. I just don’t understand any of it, and I don’t know if I ever will. When we’re finished figuring out color schemes and have a list of about fifty dresses for me to try on, Allison leans back in her chair, her eyes searching mine.
“You’re okay, right?”
Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I lean back, too. “I am,” I say just as the door unlocks.
Turning my head, I watch as Wells walks through the door. I didn’t expect him so soon. His eyes find mine, and he holds my gaze for a moment. I know he’s trying to gauge my mood. He doesn’t say anything, then he moves closer to me, crouching slightly when he’s in front of me.
He lifts his hand, wrapping his fingers loosely around the front of my throat. “You good, cupcake?” My gaze searches his, and my lips curve up into a small smile. “Yeah, she’s okay,” he rasps.
Wells leans forward and touches his lips to mine. I hear him crumple the article and the piece of paper in his fist, then he chuckles against my mouth. “Love you, Parker. Nothing, nobody, not a single person, comes between us.”
“Never,” I exhale.
“In two months, we get married, and this shit is just that… shit.”
WELLS
Liftingthe phone to my ear, I step out on the balcony while Parker and Allison say their goodbyes. He picks up on the second ring, and I feel it’s my obligation to tell him what’s happened.
Shoving my hand into my pocket, I feel the papers there. I wadded them up, but as soon as her back was turned, I picked them both up and shoved them into my pocket. I don’t know why. I’m sure there’s nothing identifying on them, but throwing them away didn’t seem right, not when I don’t know who sent them.
“What had you in a rush out of the office this afternoon?” he asks.
“Parker received a letter. It was dropped in the box at the condo. No return address and no stamp. It was an article from the day her parents were killed and a note that said:Ask your fiancé’s father who killed your parents. He knows.”
There is nothing except breathing and silence on the other end of the line. I almost ask him if he’s okay, but then he decides to speak. “Your wedding cannot come soon enough,” he murmurs. “Is everything okay?”
“I handled it, Dad. But do you know who it could be?”
I have no clue. Eira isn’t a bad guess, but I highly doubt he is worried about it any longer. He didn’t know her enough to give a shit. He didn’t even kiss her, let alone fuck her, so I doubt it’s him.
It’s more than likely an enemy. Possibly one of my father’s, likely one of mine. Instead of trying to figure out who it is, I hand it over to my father. This is his shit. Not mine. He’s the director of the family for a reason.
“I’ll see to it,” he murmurs. “The wedding planning going well?” he asks, slightly veering off the subject at hand.
“All on course,” I murmur.
“See you in the morning. Managers’ meeting. Plus, tomorrow night, we all meet Coleman’s bride and her family for dinner. Your mother is in a tizzy.”
“I’ll send Parker over early. She can help.”
“Thanks,” he rasps. “All will be well, Wells.”
I don’t know if he tells me that because he is trying to convince me or himself. I’m not sure. There is a noise behind me, and the door opens. Turning my head, I watch as my beautiful bride-to-be makes her way toward me in the cool Dallas night.
“I have to go now,” I murmur.
“Keep her mind off whatever that letter is, Wells.”
I almost laugh.
Keeping Parker busy is my absolute favorite pastime. I love every second of it, and I hope she does as well. Although, judging by the way her eyes watch me as she moves across the balcony, I think she does.
“Parker,” I murmur. “Stop there.”
She’s a few feet from me, her eyes wide as she watches me, waiting for her next instructions. Sucking in a breath, she holds it. My lips curve up into a grin.
“Take everything off,” I demand.
