Parker Page 3

  Shit. Reba Morris was coming on to him. That made him sweat, and heat rose to his cheeks.

  Dammit!

  Well, that wasn’t going to happen. He’d never taken advantage of a woman, and he wasn’t about to start now. She was hurt. She had a head injury. That had to be it. And she wasn’t thinking straight, she’d said that earlier, so he had to be the stronger person here and keep things in perspective.

  Even if he did find her attractive—which he did. And even if the crotch of his jeans was growing even tighter than it had on the porch—which it was. Tonight was not the night for canoodling, or whatever they called it these days, with his neighbor.

  Give him a week and maybe he’d change his mind.

  Hell, no!

  No. He wouldn’t change his mind about Reba. In a week he’d be knee-deep in issues concerning his father’s will and dealing with his stepmother and all of his siblings. Ignore it. She’d probably even be embarrassed if she realized what she’d done. Shaking his head, he picked up the leaking ice bag and frowned. He pulled open a drawer and retrieved another baggy, double-bagged the ice, and then headed for the freezer.

  No time for canoodling with his neighbor. No way.

  Although, he couldn’t deny an intense tumble in the hay might do a lot to alleviate some of the stress he’d been under lately. At least temporarily.

  No.

  Get your priorities straight, McKenna.

  He squared his shoulders, fished a few more cubes out of the ice bin and dropped them into the bag—all the while mentally patting himself on the back for thinking that scenario through. But that wink she’d thrown him sure was sexy and inviting, and if it had happened on any other day, in any other place in time, he probably would have seized the opportunity head-on.

  That part that worried him. There was too much going on in his life to bring a woman into the chaos. He had to get his family life straight first. But from the first moment he’d laid eyes on Reba Morris, he’d found her both interesting and charming—

  That come-hither look, the tease in her voice, and the twinkle in her wink?

  Well, those things made a cowboy drop to his knees and beg.

  ****

  Reba waited for Parker to come back.

  Simultaneously, she wished he would just leave.

  How could she have been such a brazen hussy to wink at him and say what she had said? Embarrassed didn’t cover how she felt right now. Good Lord, the man was probably hiding in the kitchen.

  But no. He burst back into the room and, without eye contact, sat right next to her on the sofa.

  “Get that ice on your arm,” he ordered.

  She stared. “Yes, sir.”

  He gave his head a quick shake. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so gruff.”

  Let him off the hook, Reba. You probably scared the shit out of him. “No worries. I’m sure you have a lot of other places you’d rather be tonight, and it’s been a long day. In fact, truly, Parker, I am fine. You can leave.”

  “No.”

  Reba sighed. Pig-headed man. She attracted them. Her husband was the same, until he’d fallen too sick to challenge her. Much. Even then, she caved to his whims all too often.

  But that’s what people do when the one they love is dying. Give them what they want—often to the sacrifice of your own needs. And she had happily done so.

  Not thinking of that now.

  His voice softened. “Let me get this on that goose egg again.” He lifted the new ice bag to her brow. “It’s gone down some.”

  “Good,” she replied. “It felt huge earlier. Am I cut up?” He’d not let her look in the mirror earlier when they came in.

  “A little. It’s not as bad as I thought. That one cut on your nose bled the most, and it’s actually small. You’ll be fine.”

  Reba sighed. She wasn’t a vain woman—well not much anyway—but she hated the thought of her face being messed up. “Thank God my nose isn’t broken,” she said.

  He chuckled. “It’s not.” Then he added, “But you are going to have one hell of a black eye.”

  Reba jerked out from under the ice bag and looked at him. “What?”

  He lowered his hand holding the ice. Looking her in the eyes, he lifted a forefinger and traced a line under her left eye. “You’re all puffy and bruised here. It’s already turning purple.”

  The light touch of his finger sent a small shiver down her spine that she fought to stifle. “Anything else?” She bit her lip.

  Slowly, he nodded. “Yes.” Tenderly, he dragged the same finger over her eyelid, just beneath her brow. The motion tickled and tingled. “Here. Swollen already and bruised. Sorry to say, it’s turning an ugly blue, almost back.”

  “Oh. Great.”

  But she couldn’t ponder that long because she was caught up in his gaze. Parker’s eyes were the deepest shade of brown, and Reba wondered to what depth a woman could sink into them. He was drawing her in, mesmerizing her with his glare. “I’ve never had a brown eye before.”

  “Brown?”

  “Oh, I mean black.” Shit, Reba!

  Parker chuckled again. “You’re right. You are not thinking or talking straight. I’m a little worried about that bump. Maybe I should have taken you on in to Livingston.”

  Reba saw the concern in his eyes as he brushed her hair back from her forehead, inspecting her goose egg. “It’s big, isn’t it?” she said.

  “Yes, but it was puffing out, which I hear is better than pushing in. It’s going to be tender for a while, and you’ll likely bruise there too. I see a couple of weeks of dark glasses in your future.”

  He smiled then, and Reba felt that smile land on her heart. A little, anyway. It danced and spun and then sank in and took hold. Oh, my.

  His fingers lingered at the corner of her eye, his knuckles gently grazing her skin, and Reba found herself licking her lips as Parker’s gaze shifted to connect with hers. She watched the darkened intensity of his gaze; his eyelids drooped half-closed as he looked to her lips.

  Go for it, Reba. Live life. It’s way too short. The wench was back.

  “I want to kiss you,” she whispered.

  She startled herself by saying those words. And she was a little frightened, again, when he didn’t jerk back and hightail it into the kitchen, as he had earlier. But what scared her most was when he leaned in and placed a soft, magical kiss on her open mouth.

  ****

  Every fiber of Parker McKenna’s being told him to retreat. His head shot signals to his feet, telling him to stand up and move away. His heart urged him closer into Reba’s embrace.

  She pulled back slightly, her lips a breath from his, her mouth parted. Her breathing came in quick, short pants, branding the scorching heat of their kiss on his lips. She didn’t move and neither did he. They stayed close, eyes closed, breathing each other’s breath.

  At least his eyes were closed. He blinked and opened them in time to see Reba’s flutter open too. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I don’t know what got into me. I’m not thinking straight.”

  “That’s my line,” she told him.

  He pulled back. “Maybe so. Maybe that deer kicked me in the head. I don’t usually go around kissing women I have barely met.”

  Reba frowned. “I’m sorry that it was such an insane idea to kiss me. I mean, why would you want to?”

  It was his turn to frown. What? “Reba, I wanted to kiss you. And you said—”

  She held up a hand. “Stop. I know what I said. And what we just did. Let’s just—”

  “Forget about it?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  Easier said than done. “All right.” He rose and stepped across the room to a straight-back wooden chair—the most uncomfortable looking chair in the room—and sat in it, facing her.

  He glanced at his watch. Hours had to pass before he’d feel comfortable leaving her. At the very least, he wasn’t leaving until he could call his friend Mike, who also happened to be his personal doctor
, and discuss her symptoms with him.

  Of course, it wasn’t that late, and Mike was used to calls interrupting his sleep, but if he didn’t have to do that, well…

  He’d call as soon as he thought Mike was up.

  Resigned, Parker stared across the room. “Okay, talk to me, Reba Morris. Tell me your life story. Tell me any story. Hell, tell me lies. I don’t care. Just talk and keep us both awake. It’s going to be a long night.”

  He watched her mouth clamp shut, open, and then close again. Then she started. “All right.” She inhaled deep and sighed. “I just moved here from Kentucky, but I’m not originally from there. In fact, I was born on a ranch not far from here. The Crandalls? They are family. I bought this place from my distant cousins. And since we have all night, I might as well start at the beginning….”

  Chapter Four

  Saturday morning

  Parker ambled across his porch, opened the back door, and slowly moved into his kitchen—all the while hoping his siblings were either still asleep or crashing at Liz’s house.

  But hell no.

  “Well, if you don’t look like someone rode you hard and put you up wet.”

  I wish. The way things had been lately, he could use a sexual diversion.

  He glanced to Mercer, standing by the counter with coffee pot in hand, and figured what she said was pretty much a true statement. He had to look rough.

  The night was long, although pleasant. Turned out Reba Morris was a very nice woman, with an interesting life. He’d heard all about it up until about five o’clock this morning when apparently, he’d nodded off sitting straight up in the chair. He jerked awake to find Reba sleeping too and then quietly left the room to call Mike. The doctor assured Parker that Reba was probably just fine, and that he had done all of the right things, but it wouldn’t hurt for her to follow up with her physician as soon as possible.

  That was a relief.

  Parker didn’t wake her. He left a note on the kitchen table with the instructions from Mike, and then at the last second, jotted his phone number down and asked her to call him later—just to let him know how she was doing.

  Maybe someday he’d get to hear the rest of her life story.

  Where had she ended it? Oh, right. At her wedding.

  Wedding. Interesting.

  He would’ve liked to hear more about that.

  “Coffee is hot, Parker. Want a cup?”

  He nodded and took off his hat, setting it in on the shelf beside the door. He ruffled his hair a bit and ran his hands over his face—a feeble attempt at waking himself up—and then joined them at the table. Mercer put a large mug of steaming black coffee in front of him. He glanced up to his sister. “You’re an angel.”

  She grinned and said, “You look like the devil.”

  “I feel like hell.”

  “How’s Reba?”

  “She’ll be okay.”

  “I hope so because I like her a lot.”

  He agreed. He liked her too, for what it was worth. “She was sleeping when I left.”

  Mercer’s eyebrows arched. “Should she do that? I mean, with a head injury…”

  He waved her off. “It’s okay. I called Mike Attaway. He said she’ll be fine, but she probably needs to follow-up with her doctor. She’ll have a black eye and should probably get that arm looked at sometime today. Shit.”

  “What?” Callie dished some egg casserole onto a plate and pushed it, and a fork, toward him. “Eat up. Reba actually made this. And what’s wrong?”

  Reba made it? When did that happen?

  Mercer turned to replace the carafe. “We’re almost out. Should I make another pot?” A chorus of yesses went up around the table. She fiddled with the filter and old grounds and then continued, “She’s single, you know, from what I understand. And man, she sure knows her way around a kitchen. Did you see what she did in here before she left yesterday?”

  Parker was still stuck on the first of Mercer’s words. She’s single, you know… Yes, somehow he needed to learn the rest of the Reba Morris story. What had happened between wedding and single? It was going to nag at him, and he really didn’t want it to. He brought the coffee to his lips and sipped. “So how come you know so much, Mercer.”

  She shrugged. “She’s new. People ask questions and talk.”

  Hmm. “You women…” He glanced off for a second, thinking, and then asked, “So what do they say about her?”

  Callie laughed. “I think big Brother has a crush on our new neighbor.”

  Parker shot her a look. “I’m thirty-five, Callie. I don’t have crushes.”

  “But you like her,” she replied.

  “She’s a very nice woman.” And that was not a lie. “You all have already acknowledged that.”

  Brody rose and chuckled, taking his cup with him, and headed for the counter where he waited for another cup of coffee.

  “What’s so funny, Brody?”

  He shrugged, grinning. “Nothing.”

  Parker glared.

  “You’re smitten.”

  “Smitten? What the hell kind of word is smitten?”

  Brody faced him and laughed aloud. “What would you rather I say, that you want to get into her panties?”

  Parker’s face heated up. Quickly he shot back with, “We’re not talking about getting into anyone’s panties here, Brody.”

  Hell, I want to get into her panties.

  Brody set his cup down and put his hands up in surrender. “No worries, big Brother, I’m just saying that I think you like her a bit.”

  “Enough.” Parker’s voice rose. “End of subject.” He waited a few seconds to clear the air and then added, “One of us might need to take her to the doctor since her truck is out of commission.” He glanced at his siblings.

  Brody nodded and leaned into the counter. “She’s lucky that truck didn’t roll a few more times. I went down there this morning. She could have been hurt a lot worse had it teetered off into that gully.”

  Parker figured as much. “I’ll take a look after I get some coffee in me.” He took another sip. Mercer was right. Still hot. “I guess I’ll call a wrecker sometime this morning.” Hell, one more thing.

  “I wonder where she wants to take it?”

  “I haven’t a clue. I suppose Reba should make that decision. Insurance and all. I’ll take care of it.” He looked to Brody then, expecting another snarky remark, but it didn’t come.

  “Let it sit,” Brody added. “It’s off the road and not in the way. But that glass needs to get cleaned up. I’ll have a couple of the boys get down there. Maybe fix a tarp over the windshield to keep the animals out. I know you’ve got other things on your plate today.”

  Parker looked to his stepbrother. Brody sure had changed the past few weeks. He’d been more help to him lately than he had ever been. “Thanks. That would be good.”

  “Mom wanted me to help her at the lodge today,” Mercer said. “I’m not sure what time I will be finished or I’d take Reba.”

  Callie looked to Parker. “I can do it. I don’t have anything going on.”

  “Great.” Thanks, little sister. He was trying to avoid taking her himself. He didn’t want to stir up the speculation about him liking her any further. “She was sleeping so I guess give her some time….”

  Parker mentally went over his schedule. What day was it, anyway? Saturday. “Ah hell, I have an appointment in town at ten.” He had spoken with his father’s attorney yesterday, and Tom had suggested the meeting. He hadn’t told Liz about it yet. “I almost forgot.”

  “Can it wait?” Mercer asked. “You’re dead tired.”

  No, it couldn’t. “Naw. Tom was insistent. No worries.” He gave her a smile.

  “Well, if you’re sure. I can call and reschedule.”

  “No, thanks.” He glanced at his watch. Nearly seven o’clock. “I might be able to catch a couple of hours’ sleep before I go.”

  Callie stood, scooting her chair back. “Good idea, Parker. Go c
rash. I’ll make sure you are up in enough time to get to your appointment. And I’ll check on Reba too.”

  Parker smiled and stood and then gave his little sister a hug. “You don’t have to tell me twice.” It sure was good to have her home again—permanently. He slammed back as much of the coffee as he could, knowing no amount of caffeine would keep him awake in a few minutes.

  ****

  At about twenty minutes until ten, Reba fluttered her eyes open and slowly perused her surroundings. The cuckoo clock hung on the opposite wall. The time had to be right because she’d worked for hours getting the thing set correctly a few days before. She didn’t know if the time was approaching ten o’clock in the morning or in the evening.

  Felt like someone had shrink-wrapped her brain.

  Her gaze traveled to the window, where the sun poked through filmy sheers. “Morning,” she said. Okay, so she was starting to get her bearings straight.

  Scooting toward the edge of the sofa, trying to kick the footstool under her feet down in the process, she spied the wooden chair across the room.

  Ah. Parker McKenna. Where might he be now?

  She called out his name. Silence.

  Pushing off the couch, she winced, sore from her ribs to her shoulders. A small pain shot through her left arm.

  Dammit. This was surely going to cramp her style for a few days. She needed her arm and her hand and her fingers.

  Dammit. Dammit.

  Her calendar. Where had she left it? What was on her agenda for today?

  The kitchen, of course. That’s where she kept everything. After all, her kitchen was her livelihood.

  She ambled through the door to her favorite room in the house and immediately started feeling better. She’d been happy to find when she’d arrived a few weeks earlier that the kitchen—even though this was a log cabin—was bright and airy. A very large bay window faced the back of her property and framed the mountains in the distance. She paused to glance about, pleased with her recent renovations. Her new stainless professional gas stove and oven was the biggest splurge, but she justified it as needing the proper tools to do her job.

  A job that she needed to get to this morning.