Page 2 of Lovers at Seaside
He’d been the subject of her late-night fantasies for so many months she felt like she already knew him well enough for him to own that list.
This was bad.
Very, very bad.
Parker didn’t have that kind ofto-dolist. Shedidrelationships. Or rather,didn’tdo them, based on her dating history.
Ugh!Her head was too fuzzy to try to untangle the web of lust she’d weaved with every email, every intimate glance into his private world of family, friends, and his love of his craft. Grayson worked with heavy metals, as evident from his insanely perfect physique, which no gym in the world could produce, and his designs were excruciatingly unique and beautiful. Parker had probably driven him crazy making changes, but if she had, he’d never let on. She loved reading his descriptions about why he designed certain pieces and how he felt when he was creating them. Sometimes he wrote about missing his family, or about bonfires and outings he’d gone on when he flew home to work with his brother on specific designs for CCF. She’d been careful not to ask personal questions, so she wouldn’t feel inclined to share her personal life, but she had secretly clung to each of his tales, treasuring the emotions he’d so eloquently shared. She’d made excessive design changes just to keep those intimate glances of him coming.
And now he was here, all six-something feet of him, close enough to see and touch and taste—and between her grief and his hunkiness, she was clearly losing her mind.
She pushed past him, grabbed the lingerie from Christmas, and tossed it into her suitcase. “Lie down.”
Christmas walked in a circle and plopped onto a pile of clothes with a huff.
Parker grabbed a shot glass from the bar, determined to remain in her inebriated state so she could deal with all the testosterone flinging around the room, and sank down to the couch. “Coming, big guy?”
OH YEAH, I’D totally be into…Grayson scrubbed his hand down his face to try to clear that thought from his brain and sat down beside Parker, silently reminding himself that she was technically his bossanda client. That was only one reason he should stop thinking about how incredibly sexy she was. They’d been emailing for almost a year, and he’d sensed affection brewing between them, even if neither one had directly addressed it. Three weeks ago she’d sent him an email pulling him from the foundation project to design a railing for this mini-mansion and had followed it up with a note about beingexcited to finally get together in person—and he hadn’t heard from her since.
Another reason he needed to keep his sexual urges at bay—because he really needed to find as many reasons as possible right this very second—was the inebriated state and slightly red, puffy eyes of the scrumptious blonde currently reaching across his lap. Her hair tumbled sexily over her bare shoulders as she fished for something between the leather sofa cushions. There was no ignoring the feel of her against his thigh, making him hungry for what he shouldn’t have.At least not tonight, with all that alcohol muddying your thoughts.
She crawled off his lap and held up another shot glass. “Voilà! Fill ’er up!”
Needing the alcohol to calm the inferno inside him, he gladly filled their glasses and handed her one. She wrapped her delicate fingers around his, giving him ideas about what else he’d like to see those slender digits wrapped around. Her blue eyes filled with determination, which he also found incredibly sexy.
“Don’t tell anyone you saw me like this.”
Seriously? Who did she think he’d tell? “I’ll cross putting an article in the paper tomorrow off my list.”
She pushed her face to within an inch of his. His eyes fell to her luscious lips as more erotic thoughts raced through his mind. He was skating on very thin ice.
“Parkercan’t do things like cry, or curse, or eat an entire jumbo bag of M&M’s and watch horror movies until her eyes nearly bleed without being judged. Only Polly can do that.”
“Polly?” He reached for her glass, figuring she’d had enough and needed more babysitting than his sexual urges did at the moment.
She pulled her glass out of his reach with a devilish glint in her eyes andclinkedit to his. “To Bert. I miss himsomuch I ache.” She downed the drink in one swallow.
Bert?Jealousy clawed at him. He shifted his gaze away from her, taking in the room again.Tequila, chocolate, pizza? Two weeks of radio silence. Aw, man. Hallmarks of a rough breakup.That thought bugged the heck out of him, so he moved on to another. Maybe this was her typical go-to stress release after filming and Bert was her…director? No way she’dachefor her director. Unless…something else,anythingelse. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get past his first assessment. Had their emails onlyfeltpersonal? It was difficult to evaluate a lot of things over email, so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that he’d misinterpreted the depth of their friendship, regardless of the heat simmering between them now.
As she refilled their glasses, he realized she’d never mentioned her dog. He’d talked about his family and friends, and if he’d had a dog, he sure as heck would have mentioned it. Who would leave out their dog? Feeling like a complete numskull, he realized she’d never mentioned her family, either. Had he been sucked in by her musings over how pretty the countryside was and how she wishedhewas there to see it? And her off-the-cuff remarks about how acting would be easier if the other actors were as confident ashewas?
Another look around the room told him he was an idiot.
This is a post breakup breakdown.So much for babysitting. He could deal with a lot of things, but picking up the pieces from some other guy’s mistakes was not one of them. He downed the shot, thankful she’d refilled their glasses.
“Bert?” he mumbled to himself, thinking about how he’d like to wring the jerk’s neck—right after he wrung his own for being such a fool. Parker was America’s sweetheart. Right up there with Julia Roberts. While he’d been slowly falling for the sweet, gorgeous woman a million miles away, she’d probably been out with dozens of Hollywood heartthrobs. He didn’t like knowing he’d misinterpreted their friendship, but he only had himself to blame for that. But he didn’t appreciate being blown off or having his time wasted. He couldn’t move forward with the railing designs he’d sent her over the past two weeks without her approval—and she’d obviously been too wrapped up in whoever Bert was to answer a single email.
It was time for him to leave.
She turned her big, tear-filled baby blues on him, making him sorry he’d come by to get the final measurements for the railing. “Bert was the best man on the planet. He was—” Tequila spilled over the top of the glass. “Oh, gosh! Darn it! I…”
“I’ve got it.” Grayson pushed to his feet, needing to put distance between them anyway, because regardless of his not wanting to still be attracted to her, every fiber of his being had been consumed with her for months. He found a towel behind the bar.
Christmas lumbered over, sniffed the spillage, and went back to lying on the pile of clothes, leaving Grayson to mop up the mess—and scrub out his urge to be a jerk and walk out the door, leaving her alone to deal with her breakup woes. Hearing about some guy—other than him—that she thought wasthe best man on the planetwas nowhere on tonight’s agenda.
“Maybe you’ve had enough.” He tossed the wet towel on the bar, grabbed another and wet it down.
“Oh no.” She shook her head, waving a finger at him. “No amount of tequila is enough right now. I’ve never had tequila before, and you know what? I like it. It’s delicious. Numbing. Truly helpful right now.”
