Nights With Parker (3 page)

“What would you like to see today?” she asks, steering the conversation away from herself. I like that too, the moments when she tries to keep me at bay. She’s a challenge, and I can see that. Unfortunately for her, I don’t normally back away from a challenge.

“I will follow wherever you lead … Lead away.”

***

“Are you hungry? We can stop for lunch if you want?” Riley asks after we leave the museum where we have spent the last hour. I must admit she took her duties as a tour guide seriously, packing in as much as she could in our three hours together.

“Lunch would be good,” I reply, trying to come to terms with how vastly different my reactions to this girl are at different times. How when I first met her, I felt a strong sense of lust for her, how this morning, I wanted to get away from her as quickly as possible, and how now … well, now, I don’t know.

She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met—beautiful in one respect but simple in another. Shy in one instance, but fearless in the next. Everything about her is a contradiction, and I feel this intense need to peel back the layers of her in order to discover what’s at the core. That doesn’t matter, though. I have no room in my life for someone like her. There’s no time for me to explore the different nuances of her because I’ll only be here for a few months. The best I can hope for is to fuck the shit out of her and let that satisfy whatever craving I have for her.

We walk into a small restaurant, much like the one I found her working in yesterday, and we’re seated at a bistro table alongside a picturesque window. We place our orders then sit silently, both of us staring out at the city, watching the people walking by, the window shoppers, and the obvious sightseers.

“It really is a beautiful place,” I comment, trying my best to break through the ice that keeps her far removed. “Thank you for showing me around.”

Her eyes land on mine, but she looks right through me. “You’re welcome.”

“Have you always lived here?”

“I spent some time away at college, but other than that, yeah, I’ve always lived here.”

“Where did you go to college?”

“Duke.”

“Impressive,” I respond, and I wonder how someone who went to a university as prestigious as Duke ended up waiting tables.

“Where are you from?” she questions. I gather that it’s her attempt at deflecting, shifting the spotlight onto me rather than keeping it on herself.

“New York. Have you ever been?”

“No.” Her response is quick, short, as if she’s trying to control the conversation by giving minimal information. I like it. I find her reaction to me amusing. She doesn’t trust me, and she shouldn’t. I’m not someone she should ever put her faith in.

“Would you like to go?”

She shakes her head. “Large, overcrowded cities don’t interest me.”

“Fair enough.” I lean back in my chair and take a sip of my drink. I wonder what it would take to crack this girl, to get Riley to open up, because that’s the key with her. She’s not the kind of girl who’s easily seduced. There’s a wall there, a guard, and it’s firmly in place. I wouldn’t even make it to first base like this. I’ve never encountered someone like her; the women I’m used to don’t require special attention. They’re usually more than willing to let me have my fill. Then again, they know my name and the weight that it carries. They think that by letting me fuck them the way I want to, I’ll keep them. The only problem with that is I’ve yet to meet a woman I’ve wanted to keep around. Not ever.

“How long will you be in town?” Riley questions, cutting into my thoughts.

“A while.” I give her a vague response, much like the ones she’s given me. Let’s see how she feels when the shoe is on the other foot. I think maybe she gets off on being difficult, but maybe she doesn’t know she gets off on it. She obviously doesn’t know it does something particularly special to me.

“So you’re here for work?”

“Yes.”

“What do you do?”

“Hospitality.”

She bites her lip, and I can tell she wants to prod for more information, but she takes a sip of her drink instead. Our meals are delivered, and again, we sit in silence as we eat. Every so often, I feel her eyes on me; I’m as much of a mystery to her as she is to me. I decide right then that if she shuts me down today, I’ll leave her alone. She’s the type of distraction that I don’t need. Like a puzzle that will drive you mad with the desire to solve it.

We leave the restaurant once we finish our lunch. Together, we walk back to my hotel, and though we’re side by side, we couldn’t be any farther apart.

“Well, here you are. Safe and sound back where we started,” she says, coming to a halt a few feet away from the entrance.

“I never doubted my safety for a second.”

She smiles at me, and for the first time, I feel like it’s genuine. It lights up her entire face, and I almost feel honored to have witnessed it because you just know it doesn’t happen often.

“Well, we wouldn’t want to ruin my reputation as an amazing tour giver.”

“No, we wouldn’t want that,” I agree with a smirk, pulling an envelope out of my pocket and extending it to her. “As agreed upon, five hundred dollars.”

She looks down at the envelope then back up at me.

“Keep it.”

I’m stunned that she’s refusing to accept the money we agreed upon; it’s not like five hundred dollars is chump change. In fact, I’m sure that given her profession, the money would come in handy.

“Absolutely not. I agreed to pay you for the tour, and that’s what I intend to do.”

“It wasn’t even a real tour, and it definitely wasn’t worth five hundred dollars.”

“It was to me. I would have hated being stuck on a tour with a group. I wanted a personal tour, and that’s what you gave me. Take it, Riley,” I demand with a finality in my voice that I know registers with her. She reaches out and takes the envelope.

“Thank you,” she says quietly as her gaze focuses on the street below her. For some reason, she can’t even look at me. “I guess I’ll get going.”

“Riley.” I call to her, and her eyes travel upward until they land on my face. Her cheeks are rosy with a light blush, giving away her unwarranted embarrassment. Is she ashamed to take the money? Is that why she didn’t want to accept it?

“Yes?”

“Would you like to accompany me upstairs?” The tone of my voice drops to downright lustful, and she doesn’t miss it. Her eyes grow wide and her lips part, allowing her shallow breath to escape, and I think that maybe, just maybe, she wants to come with me. I think maybe she wants me exactly the same way I want her. Or at the very least, she’s curious.

“I—”

“Come upstairs with me.” My tone makes it sound like more of a command, and she flinches when I reach out and grab her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Come with me.” It’s a request now, and I give her a gentle tug. I can’t lie. I feel something shift in me when her feet shuffle toward me. Something warms me when she allows me to pull her into the building and onto the elevator. I watch with mild annoyance as the floor numbers flash above but feel an unexplainable amount of relief when the doors open, and she gets off with me. Pulling the room key out of my pocket, I drop her hand long enough to open the door. I usher her inside, tossing the key on a nearby table. At the same time, I note that her hesitation hasn’t dissipated. Her nerves are shot, and I should take the time to calm her down, to make her feel at ease. Instead, I do the exact opposite, even though I know it’s a bad move. I act like a horny teenager, shoving her up against the door and kissing the shit out of her.

It’s not lost on me that I’ve caught her off guard; her lack of resistance is more than evident. But when my tongue slides past her defenses and tangles with hers, she loses the battle. As my arms envelop her, she becomes pliant, melting into me as though she can no longer stand and I’m the only thing keeping her from becoming a puddle on the floor. She grabs my shirt, clutching it with her fists, and when a melodic whimper escapes from her lips, I’m certain of the fact that she’s mine for the taking.

Shifting us farther into the room, I lead her in the direction of the bed, but she begins to drag her feet. The hands that were moments ago pulling me closer, now push me away. I break the kiss, and stare at her, panting as if I’ve just run a mile.

“What’s wrong?” I question.

She takes a step back, her eyes wild, and she looks around the room like a caged animal seeking its escape.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this,” she says, her voice shaky. She sounds panicked, scared almost.

“Riley, come here,” I demand, hoping that the tone of my voice will have the same reaction as when I convinced her to come up here. I take a step forward, and she takes one back; it’s a dance I’m not thrilled to participate in.

“Riley.”

“No. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come up here.”

Her hair fans dramatically across her back as she turns on the balls of her feet and bolts toward the door. I go after her, hoping to catch up with her at the elevators, but she’s too fast. By the time I make it into the hallway, she’s nowhere in sight. She must have gone down the stairwell. I contemplate running after her, but I stop myself. In all my life, I’ve never had anyone literally run away from me.

“Fuck it.” I told myself I wasn’t going to pursue her if I couldn’t close the deal today, and I need to stick with that. Riley is a distraction I don’t need. Savannah, Georgia, is nothing more than a job site to me, and I won’t stay focused if I get mixed up with a girl like her. Undoubtedly, I could have my pick of hundreds of women in this city for some uncomplicated, no-strings-attached fun. Decision made, I shut the door and push thoughts of Riley out of my mind. Instead of dwelling on the promise of her and what might have happened, I take a shower. The next few hours are spent catching up on work, scheduling contracting bids for the hotel, and returning phone calls. When I’ve had enough of work, I head out into Savannah in search of the nightlife and someone to make me forget about the girl who ran out on me a few hours ago.

RILEY

I went in a little early to work last night in order to get some baking done, which is something I do whenever I’m in the mood or just need to clear my head. The owners of the restaurant tasted a few of my desserts and liked them so much that they allow me to use their kitchen whenever I want. Oftentimes, they sell my creations as add-ons to the existing dessert menu. They always give me a portion of the sales as payment, and I try to save as much of that as I can. The restaurant was jam-packed once my shift started, yet I still spent most of the night watching the front door to make sure Oliver wouldn’t show up looking for me. He didn’t, thank God. I don’t think I could have handled another encounter with him. I’ve never been so mortified in my entire life, running out on him the way I did … I’m such a moron. I’m not even sure how I ended up in his hotel room to begin with. I was all ready to say no, then I looked into his eyes, and it was as if I was in a trance. At that moment in time, I would have done just about anything he asked of me. I felt it the night we met at the restaurant, and I absolutely felt it throughout our time together yesterday. There’s something about him, though, that makes me think he’s dangerous. Not in the physically hurt me kind of way, but in the emotionally hurt me way. He’s not about love and rainbows; he’s not a one-woman man. Don’t ask me how I know this, I just do. It’s in the way he carries himself, the way he speaks, and the way he demands what he wants. The way his dark eyes lock on yours and tell you exactly what his intentions are with a practiced ease that’s almost scary. A girl like me would not look to get involved with a guy like him and hope for a happily-ever-after. You get involved with this kind of guy knowing he’s eventually going to obliterate you. I am not in the market to be obliterated … no, thank you.

When he kissed me, I was honestly stunned. I mean he barely let me get in the door before he was on me. Though, I must admit I liked it. It was a good kiss—the best, if I’m being honest. I could have stayed there forever, pinned up against the door with his mouth on mine and his arms around me. That moment was perfection, but when he started moving toward the bed, it was as though someone had poured a bucket of cold water over my head. I panicked, and I did the only thing I could think of. I ran like hell.

Thankfully, he didn’t show up at my job, even though I felt the minutest sense of disappointment. But it’s for the best. Someone like Oliver is not the staying kind; Oliver is the love ‘em and leave ‘em kind, so it’s definitely better this way. I stretch out one last time in bed before getting up, using the bathroom and heading toward the kitchen to make breakfast. I’m surprised to see my mom in the kitchen, hovering over the coffeepot as if her life depended on it. This time every day, she’s always at her housekeeping job at the Godwin Hotel, and she never misses work, never. She also waits tables in the evenings at a diner not too far from here, but the tips are shit, and the Godwin is her primary source of income.

“Momma? What are you doing home?”

She turns and jumps slightly, clearly startled by my presence.

“Riley,” she says, sounding winded. “I’m so sorry; I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” I return, still confused by her presence. I know better than anyone does that neither one of us can afford to miss a day’s work. “Don’t you have work today?”