Page 22 of Lovers at Seaside
Parker dropped her gaze. “I don’t really know those feelings.”
His chest tightened. “Were you very young when you lost your parents?”
“I never knew my father, and my mom was killed when I was a year old.” She drew in a shaky breath. “We were driving across the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge when that big earthquake hit. I don’t remember it, of course, although I wish I could remember something about her. Anything, really.”
“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.” He gathered her in his arms, the soothing sounds of the bay playing in the distance, conflicting with the rampant beating of her heart. “Was Bert a relative? Did he raise you?”
She shook her head and sat back, finally meeting his gaze. “They weren’t able to track down any relatives, so I grew up in the foster care system. When I was sixteen I started working part-time as a bus girl in a diner, and that’s where I met Bert. He came in every Sunday. When I graduated from high school, I went full-time. We had become pretty friendly by then, and I knew he was a photographer, and when he asked if he could take a few pictures of me, I agreed.”
“You know how dangerous that was, right?”
She smiled, nodded. “Yeah. But Bert was in his seventies, and he was gay, so I was pretty sure he wasn’t interested in getting me naked. We met at a park one afternoon, and he took some pictures. After that we talked more often, and a few weeks later he asked if I’d ever considered modeling, which was a world away from anything I’d ever thought about. I was thankful to have a job that paid enough to rent a room. Anyway, a few weeks after that he told me he’d shown the pictures he’d taken to his friend who was a modeling agent and asked if I’d meet him. I agreed, and a month later I was earning three times what I’d been making at the diner, but I hated modeling. I wasn’t used to that kind of attention. It made me uncomfortable, being the sole object of the camera and having people touch me, position my body. I don’t know…It just wasn’t my thing.”
Grayson tried to imagine her at eighteen, putting all her trust in Bert and jumping into an industry that carried rumors of trading sex for jobs. “You’re really lucky Bert was an honest guy. I hope he took your discomfort to heart.”
“I’m lucky he was honestandcaring. He was a good man, and he treated me like a daughter. When I told him I didn’t like modeling, he arranged for me to meet Phillipa Grace, another agent, and when I decided to give acting a shot, he paid for private acting lessons. He went with me to auditions, helped me run lines, and watched out for me. Phillipa is still my agent, and she’s always been very good to me.”
Grayson was beginning to understand her need to do for Bert what he never could. He’d been there for her in the most important ways a person could be. “Do you like acting?”
“The work? Yes. I grew up living with one foot out the door at all times, even though the families I stayed with treated me well. Stability was the unattainable dream. The brass ring. I was with my first family for three years, and for whatever reason, I went back into the system. A year later they found me another home, but that lasted less than a year, and the one after that wasn’t much longer. You get the picture.”
“I can’t imagine what that was like.” He pulled her closer again, needing the contact.
“When it’s your life and it’s all you know, you figure out coping mechanisms without even realizing you’re doing it. Like not getting too attached. But that’s what’s so great about acting. I get to slip into a life and pretend to be a cherished daughter, sister, or mother. It’s like living out a fantasy. But I don’t like all the stuff that comes with acting. There’s no privacy back home, and despite the tequila I drank the other night, I’m not a party girl and I don’t reallyfitinto that world.”
“Which is why Polly’s the fantasy for you.” He saw her so much clearer now. “And for most people, you’re living their fantasy.”
She nodded, and her eyes went serious. “Please don’t think I’m not grateful for everything I have and every opportunity I’ve been given, because I am. I know how fortunate I am. My career allowed me to create the children’s foundation and to give other kids whose lives feel unstable a chance to have something to hang on to, to look forward to amid the chaos of moving, of trying to fit in and make new friends.”
Her voice rose with excitement and purpose. “I know it’s not much in the grand scheme of things,” she said. “But when you grow up in foster care, your next move is determinedforyou. You’re moved away from kids you’ve gotten close to, who you care about. It’s not a choice; it’s a given. Through CCF we’re giving those kids a chance to come back together with the kids they’ve spent time with, they’ve lived with, they’ve bonded with. Coming back to the same place with the same kids each year allows those early bonds to become stronger. It’s a way to maintain the relationship with the scared girl who slept in the bed next to you for a year, or a month, or whatever. It’s keeping those friendships alive instead of trying to forget them because some other kid will be in that bed tomorrow. And, of course, it takes all sorts of approvals, red tape, and money, and—”
“Parker.” He was momentarily speechless, in awe of her strength and courage with all she’d gone through. And shocked that she was still able to trust so easily after such a rocky start to her life. She was not only unveiling her past, but she was revealing her generous heart, her hopes, and her dreams, trying to give others what she never had. He’d undervalued the foundation’s mission, and he realized, not for the first time that day, how much he took for granted in his own life. She was giving him renewed appreciation for his loving family, and she increased his desire to help her find the stability she craved, and all the things she wished for others, for herself.
“Sorry. I’m rambling again,” she said shyly.
“No, sweetheart.” He held her gaze, scrounging for the right words. “You’re passionate and inspiring and so incredibly strong you make me look weak. How on earth do you survive in Hollywood? How has some guy not fallen head over heels in love with you and swept you off your feet yet?”
He didn’t wait for her answer, couldn’t wait. He had too many things he wanted to say. “I wish…I wish for so much it’s hard to put into words. I wish you hadn’t lost your mom and that you’d known your father. I wish Bert were still here for you, and for me, so I could thank him. I was pretty mad at him for leaving you the letters that led you to Abe, but he really was youreverything. How can I be anything but thankful for a man like that?”
“He was the kindest man I’d ever met, until you. You’re right up there with him.”
He slid his hand beneath her hair, to the nape of her neck. “Knowing what Bert meant to you, that’s the highest compliment I could ever hope for. I didn’t understand CCF’s mission before, but it all makes sense now. I get it, and I am so proud to be part of it.”
“You don’t have to say that just for me.”
“Not for you.Becauseof you. You’ve opened my eyes. I want to be involved, Parker. With the foundation, and with you.”
Heat pulsed in the space between them.
“Grayson…?” She reached for him as he leaned forward. Her eyes held the same wonder about what was happening between them as he felt.
“I feel it, too, sweetheart. I don’t have the answers.” This was new territory, combining want and need with a heart that never wanted to let her go. “But I don’t want to fight what we feel.”
Her breath whispered over his skin as he pressed a soft kiss to the swell of her upper lip, then the lower. Her eyes fluttered closed on a sigh of surrender, and he sucked her plump lower lip into his mouth. She tasted so sweet he went back for more, kissing her tenderly, again and again.Slow, slow, slow, he told himself, fighting the urge to take it deeper, to make her his in every way and wanting to savor every anticipatory breath, every touch, every breathy plea as it fell from her mouth.
Slow, slow, slow.
Tracing her lips with his tongue, riding the sweet curves to the corner, he kissed her there.
