Page 55 of Six Month Wife
“Cut the charming bullshit, Parker.”
My defense is to be hard, but I appreciate that he doesn’t look. He notices. His eyes scan the framed photo of my mom on the bookshelf, the stack of half-assembled Citrine boxes near the island.
I watch him take it in, not judging, absorbing, and that throws all of my resolve out the window. When did I become such a sentimental sap?
“What did you come here to say?”
He runs a hand along the back of his neck and then looks up at me like I'm going to save him. “First of all, the elephant in the room, about the call you saw a few minutes ago?—”
“Don’t,” I interrupt, crossing my arms. “You don’t owe me an explanation. This is fake, remember? I don’t want to look like a dumb ass. I’ll remember next time not to show up unannounced.”
His jaw tightens. “Stop. I know it’s fake, Adair, but that doesn’t mean I want you thinking something that isn’t true. Rose is a friend. We were catching up, that’s all.”
I raise an eyebrow, skeptical. Rose? Nice name.
I want to stay mad. I do. But the way he’s looking at me, earnest, like the last thing he wants is to hurt me, is harder than it should be. Someone who looks like Parker is probably a pro at talking his way out of shit like this.
“Do you trust me?” he asks, his voice steady.
I let out a short laugh, shaking my head. “Frankly, if you'd asked me an hour ago, I'd have said yes. Now, I don't know. Do you trust me?”
He smirks, leaning closer. “I do. You can trust me.”
For a moment, the tension between us melts away, replaced by something warmer. Something lighter. I bite back a smile, and he notices.
“There it is,” he says softly.
“There what is?”
“That smile I’ve been missing all day.”
I make a face, but my heart flutters in a way that annoys me. “It’s a fake smile. I’m good at being fake.”
He steps in, close enough that I can sense the electricity coming from his body. “I know the difference.”
He holds my gaze, but doesn’t try to fill the silence with some rehearsed line or distraction. He just lets it sit there, raw and real.
“Adair, I don’t want to screw this up. Whateverthisis. I know it’s complicated, but I care about you. And I need you to know that. Even if nothing about this setup is normal.”
It lands like a sucker punch. Not because it’s grand or dramatic—but because it’s not. It's just… real.
I open my mouth, no idea what’s about to come out. “Parker?—”
He closes the gap, brushing his fingers over mine like he’s giving me a chance to pull away.
I don’t.
Because sex solves everything, right?
Brilliant logic.
Our mouths meet, and whatever fight I had left in me is gone. All the tension melts into his mouth along with me, and suddenly, it isn't about convenience or business. It's about us.
He deepens the kiss as his hands expertly move to my waist, pulling me in until I forget why I ever wanted distance in the first place.
When we finally break for air, I’m dizzy. He’s watching me like I’m something to be unraveled, not conquered.
And it wrecks me.
