Addicted to Mr. Parks (The Park #2) (37 page)

Chapter

Thirty-Four

That morning I woke up alone. I had no idea where Parks was. His smartphone was in the bedroom with me and was constantly ringing, so I couldn’t even call him to ask where he was. He wouldn’t have gone back to London without me, would he?

I got dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a grey tank top and threw my hair up into a messy ponytail. My intention was to walk around the mansion and find him, but I would have felt like I was prying. Instead I thought about just heading to the kitchen. Maybe he was eating breakfast.

Before I exited the room my phone rang. It was Tabby.

“Hey,” I answered, quickly glancing at my watch. It was nine o’clock in the morning, and I quickly worked it out to five p.m. in London.

“Hey, Evey. I saw you in
The Star Magazine
this morning.”

“What?” My heart was in my mouth. I put Tabby on loudspeaker and clicked Internet tab on my phone.

“It’s a picture of you and Wade at the event. Are you still in America?”

My mind was lost for a second. I was rudely ignoring Tabby, waiting for the article to load.

Billionaire businessman Wade Parks steps out with a mysterious brunette.

My eyes read over the headline, my fingers unwilling to read what the rest of the article said. What would it say? Did they know about my past?

The picture of us looked stunning nevertheless. Parks was gazing down on me, and we were both looking into each other’s eyes, showing the world we had captured each other’s hearts.

“Shit.” I already felt the hint of panic—panic over millions of people seeing who I was. Digging into my past. I wasn’t sure how I was going to cope with this part of his life. Being exposed. Having no privacy.

Tabby chuckled. “Don’t worry, they’ll hop on to another story soon. So, how are the Parks family? All perfect and clean like they come across?”

Why was she so curious? “You’re not a reporter, are you, Tabby?” My question was playful, but Tabby didn’t take it that way.

“No. I’m just curious about one of the most prestigious but private families in America.”

“Now you definitely sound like a reporter.”

She laughed but continued to annoyingly push. “But come on, what were they like?”

“Um.” I scratched at my forehead. “His mother’s wonderful. Jasmine’s a total bitch. His dad…I can’t quite figure him out.”

“What about the little girl?” She was pushing eagerly. My brows furrowed quickly. Little girl?

“Abigail?” Why the hell would she want to know how she was? And more to the point, how did she know her?

“You know more about this family than I do.” My chuckle was forced because I didn’t want her to sense my uncertainty.

“Like I said, I’m just curious.”

Tabby had a way of making me feel sorry for her, a way of turning my thoughts about her around in an instant. I wasn’t sure why or how, but she did.

“Well, she was just like any normal little girl. I did find it strange, though. She’s Wade’s little sister. I’m not even sure how old Harriet is. Maybe she was adopted?”

Why was I telling her this information? Tabby also had a way of getting things out of me like no one else did.

“Adopted?” she scoffed, instantly making me doubt her again. Jeez, she gave me whiplash.

“Why’s that strange? Harriet is the founder of COA. Maybe Abigail was living with a family that couldn’t take care of her, so she adopted her.”
That would make sense
, I thought. Anyway, why was I still talking? “Tabby, I have to go. We’ll catch up when I get back, yes?”

“Oh. Of course. Can’t wait for our girly night. Bye, Evey.”

We hung up, and I went back to my intentions of finding Parks. That article had to be shoved to the back of my brain. If I thought about it too much, my anxiety levels would expand, and I didn’t want to feel that way.

As I was about to exit the room, Parks’s smartphone caught my attention again as it rang for the twentieth time. I hit the Answer button, and David’s voice came blaring through the speakers.

“Mr. Parks. If you have been hit with the articles about yourself and Miss Banks this morning, then I wouldn’t worry. They still have no idea who she is. Although, I did try and stop the article getting out in the first place.”

“I bet you did.” My snarl was to his surprise. “Does Wade know how much you hate me, Dave? Does he know about our little talk last night?”

“Evey?” After the shock of hearing my voice on the other end of the line, he cleared his throat. “Well, my job would be no more if I told Wade how unworthy you are of him. I will just plant that thought in his head.”

“Maybe I should tell him all about your slyness.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.” I hung up and threw the phone onto the bed. “Bastard.” Muttering under my breath, I continued my walk downstairs.

“Evelyn, dear, good morning.” I was greeted by Harriet when I walked into the kitchen. She was dressed up elegantly in a floral tea dress, and her hair was pinned up to show off her face. After pulling out one of the stools that was neatly tucked into the breakfast bar, I slipped my backside onto it and took in the vastness of the room.

“Morning. No Wade?”

She glanced up from whatever she was fussing with at the oven. “No, dear. He’s not with you?”

My eyes rolled on their own. Where the hell was that man? “No. I don’t know where he’s got to.” I glanced over to the oven. “What are you making? Smells good.”

“Apple pie.” She smiled. “Wade loves it.”

“Oh.” I was confused. “Wade doesn’t eat things like that. Does he?”

She flapped her hand, showing me three gorgeous diamond rings on her fingers. “Not normally. But he loves my apple pie. Has since he was a child. He just likes to be in control of what he eats. That’s all.”

He wanted to be in control of what he did. What he said. What he wore. What he ate. Everything had to be
his
way.

“Why is he so—?”

“—controlling?” she finished for me, then looked behind me. “Oh, Leanne. Would you be a love and make Evelyn some breakfast?”

I shook my hand in front of me, telling the housekeeper not to bother. “Honestly. I’m not hungry.”

“You will eat.” All three of our heads turned to see Parks standing in the doorway, his tight body dressed in a black tank and his legs in grey joggers. His clothes were sweat-ridden, all damp and sexy down his chest. His forehead was also dotted with speckles as he pushed his dark hair from his forehead. He also had dark stubble gracing his jaw, which made me stare. Oh God. My appetite made an appearance immediately. But not for food.

“I’ll get right to it.” Leanne, a pretty redhead, smiled. “Any requests?”

“Evelyn likes smoked bacon, boiled eggs, and toast with lots of butter.” He was giving his orders to Leanne whilst making his way to the fridge. I watched him, gawping at how sexy and edible he looked in his damp, tight clothes.

He opened the fridge, took out a bottle of water, unscrewed the lid, and downed the liquid. I watched as his Adam’s apple sexily bobbed as he swallowed. He swiped at his forehead with the back of his hand, then screwed up the lid. Jesus. It was like watching an erotic Evian advert.

After his drink, he pulled out a jug of orange juice, took a glass from the cabinet, and poured the juice into it. He brought it over to me, placed it in my hands, and then dipped down to kiss my lips in front of his mother. He kissed me deeply, making me taste the almost-salted taste of his sweaty lips.

“Drink,” he demanded, then sauntered out of the room.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. He had my skin breaking out in goose bumps, my sex damp and aching to have his delicious body pressed up against mine. Every part of me was missing him, even though he’d only been away from me for a couple of hours. My mind hurt from thinking about what he was thinking. My body ached from the loss of its partner in crime.

“He loves you.” Harriet glanced at me warmly. “He told me.”

“He told you?” It was a hard push for Parks to talk to anyone, let alone his mother.

“Yes. I’m as surprised as you look. He wasn’t himself last night.” Harriet twisted the ring on her index finger with her thumb and stared at it as she spoke. “I found him sitting by the pool alone. He was upset. So angry.” My heart pounded at the thought of him being alone and wounded all night, but I listened as she went on. “He thinks he’s going to mess up what you have.” Her eyes looked deep into my mine affectionately, and her palm covered her heart. “He said you were his princess. Evelyn, to hear my son call a woman a princess after he’s never spoken to me about anything before broke my heart. In a good way,” she quickly added.

“He’s incredible,” I croaked. “He won’t mess anything up. I just wish he’d let me in.”

“Wade is too independent for his own good. His one goal in life was to make it by himself. Cut away from his father’s strings.”

“He has issues with his dad?” I knew he did, so if Parks wasn’t going to tell me what it was, I was going to snoop. Clearly.

“More than you could bear to think, dear.” She solemnly looked at the ring on her finger. Her eyes were teary, and she didn’t want me to catch that. But I already had.

“Why does he drink watermelon?” It was an odd question to ask, but I was curious, and maybe I wanted to lighten up the conversation. After all, snooping didn’t seem a good idea just then.

She laughed fondly and moved in closer to speak. “Because his father hates it.”

“That’s why?” Was she kidding me?

She nodded and got up to see to the pie she’d placed in the oven.

After breakfast, I made my way up the stairs. Parks wasn’t in the room we’d shared, but our bags were packed and resting on the bed ready to go.

Deciding to wait for him, I rummaged in my bag for my sunglasses and opened up the French doors that led onto a beautiful balcony that had all the sunlight beaming down and comfy chairs to sit on. Pulling out my iPod, I pressed play to Ella Henderson’s “Empire” and closed my eyes.

The first time I’d heard the song, it instantly hit home. It was like the lyrics were written for Parks and me. We had found strength in each other’s arms, building on our love and making it our empire. But Parks still remained strong while I let go. I let him into my life and only him. It hurt that he didn’t want to share his everything with me when I’d shared
my everything
with him.

Sitting alone, I got to really appreciate the surroundings of what I was basking in. Just across my view was the sea glistening from the reflection of the sunlight. Palm trees swaying in the gentle breeze. Peace. Serenity. Two things I rarely found.

“Hey.” A soft voice I’d started to miss caused a shiver down my spine. Pulling my sunglasses from me, he quickly captured my eyes with those emerald beauties. He had a laid-back white T-shirt on, jeans, and casual Ralph Lauren shoes. I’d only ever witnessed him in suits and ties, so when he dressed casual, it was a hot shock.

“Oh, he speaks.”

He smiled in aid of my humour and pulled up the seat next to me. “What’s this song?”

“Ella Henderson. “Empire.” It reminds me of us.”

“I’ll have to remember this one.”

My smile was clearly from the way he always remembered the songs I listened to because he knew how much words meant to me. Lyrics of a song said how I was feeling better than I could ever try to explain myself.

“Evelyn.” He reached out his hand and clasped his palm over my knuckles. “When I get that like, the best thing to do is to let me be alone. I told you, when I’m angry, I can’t see past it. I really just need to be alone.”

“And it’s better than angry spanking me, correct?”

He squeezed my hand. “Yes.”

I didn’t agree with him. “I say it’s not. Because as you know, I hate it when you leave me in body and mind. I panic when you’re not around. My anxiety builds when you feel so far away that I can’t even touch you.”

“Evelyn.” His bum left the chair, and he knelt beside me. “Trust me, you wouldn’t rather I angry spanked you.” His tone was softer with an edge of exhaustion entwined. He still didn’t seem his full self, and I hated that.

“But you do spank me and I love it.” And I did. I didn’t want that to stop.

His gaze dropped briefly, and he caught the side of his full bottom lip with his teeth. “Spanking out of anger is not the same as spanking a woman because of punishment.”

“But you fucked me in anger.” My frown was very much apparent, and he winced at my words. I knew he’d been beating himself up over it all night.

“I know. I hate myself for it.”

“Well don’t, because I love you.”

“I don’t deserve you. You’ve changed so much for me, and when you ask me to let you in, I fuck you so bad you can’t even sit down properly.”