Page 21 of The Proximity Factor

“Does your mama know? I thought you were living with a woman?”

“Obviously, I’m not.” I slid closer to Parker, knowing what I was intimating to Greg. Waves of heat were rolling off Parker as he glared at my ex.

“Are you together?” Greg had the audacity to ask.

“None of your business,” Parker snapped. “I suggest you turn around and leave now.”

Greg squared his shoulders, trying to make himself look bigger. “And what if I don’t?”

Parker didn’t hesitate to grab Greg by the shirt and push him out the door onto the porch. “This is what’s going to happen. And if I see you coming back here, or if I hear about you contacting Lanie again, you’re going to see what the back of a squad car looks like. Do you understand me?” He let go of Greg and stood there, crossing his arms, guarding the entrance to the house.

Whoa. Parker didn’t mess around. I guess he was going to be Batman and I would play Robin.

Greg blinked and blinked, taking in quick breaths, as if he wasn’t sure what to say. He looked over Parker’s shoulder. His eyes tried to plead with me, but I wasn’t having it. “Lanie, I’m sorry.” He turned and ran away.

Parker watched him leave before coming back in and slamming the door.

We locked eyes, silently asking each other what had just happened. I wasn’t exactly sure, but the adrenaline coursing through me started to wear off, and the tears that had been threatening to come finally burst forth and streamed down my cheeks. “Thank you,” I said through my shudders. “You probably think I date small-town beer-guzzling hicks who only think of women as objects, but I’ll have you know Greg is a doctor. The people of Goldenville once really respected him. I didn’t know he was like this. I’m not stupid.” I cried harder, hoping it was true.

Parker cautiously inched closer. “I don’t think you’re stupid. I know guys like him. The jerks are good at hiding who they really are.”

I wrapped my arms around myself, needing to feel secure, wishing for someone to hold me. “I should probably call the police. Thank you again. You can go back to ignoring me now.”

“Lanie.” He reached out a hand but quickly thought the better of it and dropped it. “I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you. It was never my intention.”

“What was your intention?” I blubbered. I was now at the snotty crying stage and sniffling furiously.

Parker stared at me. A mixture of confusion and fear filled his gorgeous gray eyes. “I don’t know,” he whispered before he steeled himself like he was about to do something brave. In a fluid move, he gently pulled me toward him and wrapped me in his strong arms. “You look like you could use a hug.”

He wasn’t wrong, but I was so surprised by this turn of events, I stiffened.

“I’m sorry.” He let go of me and backed away. “I shouldn’t have.”

“I was just surprised,” I said, flustered, already missing the human connection he’d offered me. Then he did the most unexpected thing. He smiled. Not like a big, bright smile, but a warm, gentle one. It did something to me. It was like I got a glimpse of the real Parker. Whatever it was, it had me flinging my arms around him. I just wanted to feel safe.

Parker didn’t hesitate to securely wrap his arms around me. Oh, and did the man know how to hug. He placed his hand over the back of my head like he was a pro as I cried into the soft tee over his hard chest.

“It’s all right, you’re safe.”

I relaxed against him and breathed in the spicy, warm scent he’d let linger in the bathroom after he showered every day. It was even more intoxicating on him. I really shouldn’t be having such thoughts. I mean, the man hated me, and I wasn’t all that fond of him. “We’ll go back to avoiding each other after this, right?”

He stilled and took a deep breath, making his chest rise and fall. “If that’s what you want.”

“Not really.” I couldn’t take the silence anymore. “I’d be okay if we just want to argue every day about where your Pop-Tarts belong.” Anything but being ignored.

He chuckled before he breathed out as if resigning himself to his fate. “Okay. You win. Just keep my Pop-Tarts out of your baskets.”

“I make no promises.”

WHAT HAVE I DONE? WHAT have I done? I kept asking myself as I stared at Lanie sitting next to me on the couch, holding her tissues and squeezing the life out of a throw pillow. She didn’t want to be alone, and damn if I didn’t want to leave her. Holding her was like opening the gates to my own personal hell. I could still smell her soft scent and feel the way her body contoured perfectly against mine as she trembled in my arms. I did my best not to think about her warm, soft skin or the scent of honey in her hair that tickled my nose while I held her. The woman was in distress, so I tried to keep my thoughts focused only on offering comfort and pummeling that Greg character. But some other ideas crept in. Up close, Lanie was every bit as intoxicating as I imagined she would be. If I wasn’t careful around her, I was going to end up as a walking midlife crisis.

“Can I get you anything?” I asked, not sure what else I should do. “I don’t have any ice cream.” If I remembered correctly, that seemed to be something women wanted when they were upset. Or was it cookies? Or both? I couldn’t remember. “But I do have Pop-Tarts.” I smirked.

Lanie giggled. “What flavor?”

My left brow quirked. “You like Pop-Tarts? I thought you were into kale.”

She scrunched her perfect button nose. “No one actually likes kale, but if you blend it with enough fruits and veggies, you can’t taste it.”

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