Feather Light (Knead Me) (11 page)

The week dragged on at a lumbering pace for Parker. Too many times, his mind wandered to Ann. Would he ever see her again? Without a valid phone number or any other verified information, he had no means of contacting her. Waiting would be the key, and patience wasn’t a virtue he had an abundance of these days. He was like a junkie who needed a quick hit. She was suddenly the air he needed to breathe. Her presence was intoxicating, and he longed to hear her voice.

How had she managed to crawl under his skin and dismantle his guarded self-control? In his mind’s eye, Ann was vulnerable and lost. If he based his opinion on their two meetings when she’d ended up in tears, he’d say she was carrying some heavy emotional burdens. What a pair they made. His lack of vision placed him at a physical disadvantage, but this was one aspect he refused to give in to. Parker planned to make the most of what he had in life, and that included getting to know the woman whose gentleness had rocked his world.

After the last client of the day had left, Parker returned to his office and pulled out his cell phone. He listened to the voice announce three text messages. Two were from his mother inviting him and Cork to drop by for a barbecue that weekend. Another was from an unknown number. Parker felt a shot of excitement as he listened.

Parker, this is Ann. I’m so sorry for how it ended the last time we were together.

That was the extent of the message, and it gave nothing away. Not how she felt—besides feeling bad about how their night had ended—or where she was or how he could find her. With the unknown number, he was back to where he’d been before—lost without answers and feeling sick to his stomach. How could he have let someone he hardly knew walk into his life and crack the rigid walls he’d built around himself?

Groaning, Parker pressed a speed dial code and waited. “Cork, it’s Friday night. Got any plans?”

It came as a surprise when his brother said his schedule was clear that afternoon. Like clockwork, Cork stayed with Parker from the morning until he was driven home from work, and he would work with the city league children afterward.
 

At their prearranged time, Parker met up with his coworkers at the bar they all frequented, which was one block away from his massage parlor. The loud voices of the guys suggested they were already having happy hour.

“Parker, over here,” Andy hollered from end of the bar.

From what little he could recognize from their blurry shapes, Cork was seated next to the bar with Andy and Mark, his two other massage therapists. It hadn’t been planned when all the masseuses they hired had been deemed “the hottest males with magical hands.” From Webbie’s vivid descriptions, Andy, dark-haired and tall, and Mark, a buff blonde with a quick wit, were good-looking and full of hot masculine pride. He smiled at the colorful picture Webbie had painted and took her word for it.
 

The place was already teeming with activity, the usual after-work patrons wanting to jumpstart the weekend. Friday nights were crowded and busy, but the bar owner had always given Parker and his buddies a special seat whenever they swung by.

They bumped fists and slapped hands before he took a seat between Andy and Cork. The music overhead drowned out any possibility of quiet conversation, so he had to shout above the noise.

“Cork, Mom called. She wants us to come by on Sunday afternoon for a barbecue. Are you available?” he yelled.
 

Cork appeared to shrug, but Parker waited for a verbal response. His brother remained unfazed by his impairment, which made him feel better. He didn’t tiptoe around Parker like others sometimes did. Cork never cleared the path for him but instead forced Parker to depend on himself to find the pitfalls or sense danger. His younger brother had made his transition from the sighted world to his new reality a bit more bearable by treating him the same way, and Parker was thankful for that. 

“I’m . . . going out that day. Maybe I should call Mom to see if she’d mind switching the barbecue to tomorrow.” His brother had always been awkward, saying very little and admitting even less.

Andy chuckled from Parker’s right. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think your baby bro has a date.”

“Is that right, Corky?” he teased, using the nickname he’d christened his brother with when they were younger—a name Cork hated.

Cork shrugged again, and the sound of his glass scraped the surface of the table. He chugged his usual Sam Adams beer until it was gone. Parker didn’t prod, and the conversation moved to safer ground, at least as far as Cork was concerned.
 

The LA team was playing for the Stanley Cup, and the bar was more crowded than usual. Parker listened to the play-by-play from the announcer to follow the game. Time flew for them, and by the time they made their way out of the bar, it was close to eleven.

“Talk about happy hour,” Mark mumbled while they walked to the parking lot adjacent to their building.

Parker walked a step behind the guys, as was his usual practice when he hung out with them. This had more to do with safety than anything else. Since he didn’t use a walking stick or a guide dog, this helped him gauge the surface of the pavement, the dips and bumps.

He heard the jingling of keys from his companions when they got closer to their parking spot. They stopped next to what seemed to be a dark stretch limousine that was blocking their cars.

“What’s up?” Parker asked, squinting to see as much as he could in the darkness.

“There’s a limousine blocking our cars,” Andy said. “Let me see what’s going on. For Christ’s sake, there are a hundred spots available now. Why would the idiot double park?”

Parker put a hand on his employee’s shoulder to stop him. “Let me find out what’s up.”
Why are they assuming something is wrong?

Andy didn’t object, so he felt his way around the vehicle until he reached the driver’s window. He tapped on the glass twice, and the window rolled down in an instant.

The person on the driver’s side spoke before he had a chance to ask. “Sir, Ms. Ann Sutton sent me here to pick you up. She’s flying in as we speak, and I am to take you to meet her for dinner and drinks.”

“Ann sent you?”

His heart spiked, and he felt heat rushing to his face. The tone of the man who’d spoken sounded professional enough, so when Parker heard the click of the handle, he stepped aside to allow the door to open.

“Yes, sir. Here’s my business card. It has the address and phone number of the company who employs me. I was told to give you one and another one to your brother, so he knows who is to be held accountable if there is any doubt with regards to your safety. I’m also instructed to drive you home right after.”

A card was pressed into his palm. Parker smirked at the thought that flashed through his mind.
What good will a card do me if I can’t read it?
He took the business cards to avoid further explanation and walked around the car to where Cork and the guys were waiting for him, most likely curious as to what was going on.

“Cork, go ahead. I have a ride home.” He didn’t bother giving one of the cards to his brother.

“Who’s that guy? What’s going on?” Cork asked.
 

Parker hated hearing the concern in his brother’s voice. He was a capable, grown man, but still he felt compelled to put his worry to rest. Putting an arm around Cork’s shoulder, he tried to reassure him. 

“It’s all good, Corky. I got this. I’ll call if anything comes up. Call Mom if you want to reschedule the barbecue. I’ll need a ride, so let me know if plans are changing.” Cork hesitated, but Parker didn’t give him a chance to speak. He turned to Andy and Mark. “See you on Monday, guys. Drive safe.” After they exchanged slaps and fist bumps, he slid into the backseat of the limo.

Parker stayed quiet during the first few minutes of the ride. He had no idea where they were headed. They weren’t going very fast, and judging by the stop-and-go traffic, he figured they were taking the surface streets. If he had to guess, he’d say they were moving away from Beverly Hills, based on how long they had been traveling.

The drone of the limousine’s engine lulled him while he pondered the questions in his head. He was still unable to grasp the rationale behind Ann’s peculiar approach. Why couldn’t she just call him and ask like a normal person? What was behind the thick veil of mystery? After a few frustrated moments, Parker gave up trying to figure it out. He had more questions than answers.

“So where are you supposed to take me?” he asked, trailing his fingers along the plush leather seats.

“To a cottage in Santa Monica, sir.”

“Have you been driving Ms. Sutton a lot?” Sneaky question, but he’d take any information he could get.

“No, sir. I have no idea who Ms. Sutton is. My boss is the one who takes the calls, and I’m just given the directions.”

The straightforward answer led him nowhere. Parker decided to sit back and just enjoy the jazz music coming from the speakers instead of grilling the driver for information. After a few more minutes, the car came to a stop. He tapped his watch for the time—close to midnight.

The passenger door opened, and Parker slid out of the car. The scent of salty air was strong, and in the distance, he heard the lapping waves. They had to be less than a quarter mile away from the beach, if his estimation was correct. The night seemed clear, the wind docile. He sniffed a couple of times while he tried to recover his equilibrium.
 

“Follow me this way, sir.”

They walked slowly while he followed the hazy form before him to a graveled path lit with candles.

“Two steps up,” the driver directed.

When they got to the door, the man pressed a key into Parker’s palm and closed his fingers around it.

“Here’s the key to the door. I will be waiting for you in the car, however long it takes.” After giving him what Parker guessed was a salute, the driver left, leaving him standing alone in front of the quaint, wooden door.

So much secrecy surrounded this Ann Sutton. Now Parker’s interest was more than piqued. After feeling for the keyhole, he inserted the key and hesitantly pushed open the door. The house held a floral scent, and a soft glow filled his vision everywhere he turned. Candles lined the floor. After closing the front door, he followed the lit trail with slow and careful steps.

“Hello?”

“I’m in here, Parker.” Ann’s voice came from the direction where he guessed the candles would lead him. He tapped what he thought was a bedroom door before opening.

“Ann?”

“Are you hungry?”

Warm hands circled his waist from behind. Operating on instinct, he turned around and placed his hands on her shoulders to get his bearings. She’d startled him, but he wasn’t about to let her know how he despised being caught off guard. Parker felt her bare skin, and he stepped back.
Is she naked already?
A shudder spread through his body and pulsated down to his cock at the picture he drew in his mind. He groaned. Just as quick, he was sporting a massive woody that would have put a baseball bat to shame.

“Yes,” he answered before running a hand along her face and touching her lips. “Actually, I’m starved.”

Chapter 7

“Starved?” Kelly asked, using her most seductive voice while she linked her hands behind his neck to pull him down for a kiss.

Parker nodded. He grasped her waist with both hands and lifted her. She wrapped her legs around him, and they ended up on the bed without breaking the kiss.

“What am I eating?” Parker drawled after they surfaced for air.

“Something delectable and mouthwatering, but before I feed you, I want to tell you something.” She watched his brows crease into a frown.

“What is it?”
 

“I feel bad about how our night ended in New York. I didn’t mean to sound curt—there are things I’m not ready to talk about.”
 

Parker seemed to consider her words before he nodded. “I feel bad about the way it ended, too. I hope we can get over my little temper tantrum.” He picked up her hand and kissed it.

This was going all wrong. Parker had done nothing to offend her. Kelly, on the other hand, had been unwilling to answer his simple questions. They were the type of questions that wouldn’t bother a regular person. Someone who wasn’t hiding something.

“I’m hoping for the same thing—that’s why I wanted to make it up to you. How about you shower while I get things ready? You smell like you’ve had enough to drink.” Kelly nibbled on Parker’s lip before pulling at his arm until he stood. He let her tug him to the bathroom. “Here’s the shower.” She guided his hand to the glass door. “The towel is right here, and the sink is directly opposite. There’s a robe hanging on the door for you. Is ten minutes enough?”

Parker turned and licked his lips. A devilish grin revealed the crinkles in the corners of his eyes. “I can finish in three.”

“I’ll be ready in
ten
. You know where the bed is.”
 

Kelly stood on tiptoe and kissed him again before stepping back. Parker moaned, reaching for her when she closed the door behind her. She tied her hair into a quick bun on top of her head and heard the sound of running water before she padded down the candlelit hallway to the kitchen.