When Life Happened Page 8

  No one had ever made Parker question herself like that. “So let me get this straight. If your wife were having an affair and someone else found out before you, you wouldn’t want them to tell you?”

  “Fuck no.” He took another pull of his beer. “My wife. My life. None of their fucking business.”

  “Wow … just … wow. That’s crazy. You’d rather look like a fool to the rest of the world.”

  “If someone has to tell me that my wife is cheating on me, then I’m already a fool. Telling me isn’t going to change that. And what if something happened to her, some freak accident, and they knew I knew? I’d be in prison for murdering my cheating wife. No thank you. I’ll stick with ignorance is bliss until I figure it out on my own.”

  Parker laughed. “Oh my god, that’s the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”

  “Weirder things have happened.” He gave her a pointed look.

  “You’re crazy.” She stood and took their plates to the sink. “I don’t think I’ll ever get it … the cheating. If you love someone, your heart should always trump physical desire.”

  “We often hurt the ones we love the most … or the ones we should love the most.”

  He had no idea that his words cut into her very soul, the place she harbored such hatred for the person she’d loved the most since birth. Everyone thought she blamed Caleb. But he didn’t live in her soul; that special place had always been reserved for Piper.

  “Out of control hormones are no excuse.” She rinsed the plates and set them beside the sink.

  “Desire is very powerful.”

  Parker reached for the handle to the fridge. “I don’t buy it.”

  Before she could make sense of what was happening, Gus whipped her around and pinned her to the refrigerator door with his body, chest to chest. He pressed his hands flat to the door on either side of her head as she flattened hers to it just below her hips.

  She tried to speak as his eyes stripped every ounce of her confidence. His warm breath touched her lips as he licked his, hovering an inch above hers. When her mouth opened to protest or scream, nothing came out.

  “Parker,” he whispered in a deep, throaty voice.

  The hammering in her chest and the weight of him against her made it difficult to breathe. Warmth flooded her body, yet goose bumps pimpled along her skin from the sound—the feel—of her name falling from his lips. He didn’t move, but his pulse danced along every inch where his body connected to hers.

  “Don’t fucking think … just …” He pinched his eyes shut. “Tell me what you feel right now.”

  Scared.

  Confused.

  Angry.

  Exhilarated.

  Turned on.

  Tears stung her eyes as he opened his.

  “Tell. Me.”

  “I …” She slowly turned her head side to side.

  “Are you scared?” The control he held in his voice seemed to slip with each word.

  Parker felt his presence in places she didn’t—shouldn’t—want to feel it. Heavy in her breasts. Wet between her legs.

  “Yes.” Her voice shook.

  “Why?” Gus’s lips lingered close to hers. “Are you afraid of me?”

  “I-I’m afraid…” she swallowed hard “…of myself.”

  “Why?” His right hand slid down an inch then moved to her face.

  She closed her eyes as the back of his fingers brushed her cheek, down her neck, and along the bare skin of her arm. Her nipples hardened against his chest, betraying her.

  “Because I’m …” She spoke in breaths, painful and laborious.

  Gus shifted a few inches, wedging his knee between her legs; his thigh rubbed along the apex of her legs as his hand moved from her arm to the hem of her shirt.

  As her breath hitched from the warmth of his fingers brushing her bare skin, her conscience wept, pleading with her to break the silence. She needed to tell him to stop. It was wrong. He was the devil, a drug, and she didn’t want to be the sinner and the addict.

  “You’re what?” His hand moved up her shirt, stopping at the edge of her bra as his knee moved a fraction.

  So. Fucking. Wrong.

  “Confused,” she whispered.

  “And?” His fingers caressed her abdomen.

  Her muscles clenched. “Gus …”

  She looked up at him and blinked, sending tears running down her cheeks.

  He pressed his knee into her until her hips involuntarily bucked against it. She grimaced and more tears filled her eyes as her body betrayed her again.

  “Tell. Me.” He gritted his teeth and stroked her again with his leg, and again her pelvis rocked into it.

  As she squeezed her eyes shut, her hands gripped his shirt, warring between the need to push him away and something else too terrifying to admit.

  “It’s …” A deep and almost painful pressure settled between her legs. “D-desire. I feel…” she fisted his shirt tighter, an unrecognizable voice in her head begged him to move his leg again. Push it higher into her. Harder. Deeper. “…desire.” The admission brought such guilt, but her body couldn’t feel what her mind comprehended. Her body could only feel one thing at that moment.

  Gus’s head dipped lower until his breath enveloped her ear. “What are you going to do about it, Parker?” He remained static, hand idle at her belly, hard thigh stilled between her legs.

  Even with him pressed against her body, she could have shoved him away, smacked him across the face, or screamed. He held her, but not tightly nor as a hostage. Gus ripped away her control then gave it back to her, yet she remained transfixed only by his words and the way they made her feel desperate and helpless to the moment.

  “G-go home, Gus.” She released his shirt, closed her eyes, and held her breath.

  He vanished like a dream, leaving only the echo of the door screeching on its hinges and the shudder it gave her when it thwacked shut—an eerie reminder that it really happened.

  Chapter Ten

  The dishes were clean. Day bled into night leaving a rustic sunset painted along the cornfield horizon. Parker’s tears dried, but the memory of what Gus did poisoned her conscience. She would quit her job, of that there was no question. However, her plans of telling Sabrina about the drunken kiss at the bar seemed trivial after the incident in the kitchen.

  It was sexual, intimate, suggestive, and inappropriate. Yet nothing happened. He baited her—taunted her—then vanished. All for what?

  She couldn’t wait for Sabrina to arrive before confronting Gus. Breaking into her emergency reserve of courage that she kept for Armageddon situations, Parker marched over to the Westmans’ and pounded on the front door.

  No answer.

  Like an errant child, she rang the doorbell over and over, sending Rags into a frenzy.

  No answer.

  Gus was there. She’d watched his place without as much as a blink since he left her in a puddle on her kitchen floor. Determined to get answers, she stomped around back and went in through the unlocked door. Rags greeted her, but no Gus.

  “Where is he?” she asked Rags.

  Rags ran up the stairs. It wasn’t the answer she wanted. At eight forty-five, she couldn’t imagine him already in bed.

  “Gus?” Her uneasiness over going to his bedroom diluted her attempt to sound mad.

  The master bedroom door was open, but the bathroom door was shut, and the shower murmured behind it. She sat on the bench at the end of the bed and waited. As minutes passed and memories of earlier that night fed her anger, her patience dwindled to nothing.

  With the twist of her wrist, the unlocked door opened in silence. She kept her head down not wanting to look at naked Gus behind the glass-walled shower.

  “Why did you do that to me?” Her voice stayed firm and even, in spite of her heart pounding against her ribs.

  “Fuck! What the hell are you doing, Parker?” Gus turned his back to her. “Get out!”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, keep
ing her eyes on her flip-flop-clad feet. “Not until you answer my question.”

  “I’m in the shower naked!”

  “I’m not looking. Just answer me.”

  He shut off the water and grabbed a towel, rubbing it quickly through his hair before tying it around his waist as rivulets of water continued to race down his body.

  “Go home, Parker. It doesn’t matter.” He sidestepped her to get to the walk-in closet bordered in dark wood drawers and racks of clothes hanging perfectly from matching wood and brass hangers.

  “You’re a dick. A cheater. A pathetic excuse for a husband.” Parker followed him then whipped around and squeezed her eyes shut the moment he dropped his towel as if he’d given up on hiding his naked body from her.

  “Yeah, I’m probably a dick.” He slipped on gray sweatpants, sans underwear. “But I’m not a cheater, and you have no idea what kind of husband I am.”

  “You … you tried to seduce me.” Anger fueled her fight, overriding how terrified she felt being feet from naked Gus.

  He laughed. That fed her anger even more.

  “I wasn’t seducing you. I was making a point.” He slipped on a white T-shirt.

  “Bullshit. I was there.”

  “Precisely. Then you should know that I wasn’t seducing you.” He grabbed her shoulders and steered her away from the entrance to his closet.

  She turned, relieved to find him dressed. “I felt you.” Her eyes narrowed.

  He smirked. “You did, did you?”

  Heat spread up her neck and burned her cheeks. Discussing Gus’s erection in his bedroom with Sabrina out of town qualified as the most inappropriate conversation she had ever had. “You’re such an ass. Just tell me why?”

  Twisting his lips to the side, he narrowed his eyes. “You’re young. You think the world is so black and white. In your fairy-tale world, love is a magic wand spreading trails of glitter and granting happily ever afters.”

  Parker stepped closer, knowing the lion could pull her into his den. “I don’t believe in fairytales.”

  “No?” He shrugged. “Then I guess I made my point.”

  “I don’t get your stupid point!” Her fingernails dug into her hands as she clenched them.

  Gus leaned forward, putting them at eye level. She held her ground, even though his proximity made her body tremble.

  “Someone cheated on you. And you’re so fucking mad about it because you can’t understand it. But love is an emotion that resides in your head and your proverbial heart. It has to be nurtured to grow or it dies. But … desire … it’s instinctual. Physical. Carnal. And when it wants its way, your brain shuts down and the only heart you hear is that blood-pumping organ in your chest. A slave to your desire, readying your body to do one thing and one thing only …” He leaned into her ear and whispered, “Get. Off.”

  August Westman proved he was the devil. Parker became the worst possible version of herself in his presence. He drugged her with his words, pulled her under with his confidence, and stole her innocence with a whisper.

  Gus stood straight again. “Do you want me to treat you like a child, Parker? Like my wife’s B-team assistant?”

  She swallowed hard and shook her head.

  “Truth?”

  She nodded.

  “I love my wife.” His brow pulled tight as if saying those simple words somehow pained him. “She’s brilliant, and beautiful, and sexy, and I’m committed to her in my head and my heart. But I miss her. Because even when she’s here … she’s not really here. So when she hires this young girl that smiles all the damn time, and says the funniest things, and looks at me the way my wife used to look at me …”

  Parker could barely breathe and every small gasp of air she found was laced with his herbaceous soap and pheromones.

  Gus sighed while shaking his head. “I-I can’t think and my heart becomes that indiscriminate blood-pumping organ because I’m a man, and maybe that’s no excuse, but I feel so …” He ran his hands through his wet hair then interlaced them behind his neck. “I wanted to prove that you desired me at that moment and black turned into an ugly gray because you so desperately wanted that release. I wanted you to acknowledge that desire is a drug and no one is immune to its effect.”

  Gus made gray a terrible color. Parker preferred black and white—and blue.

  “You’ve known me less than two weeks.”

  He shrugged. “And you’ve kissed me once and answered the door half-naked twice. I’m a decent guy, but I’m no saint.”

  “Gus, I …”

  “Don’t sweat it, Parker.” He moved past her toward the stairs. “I’m not making you my mistress. I’m not cheating on Sabrina. I shouldn’t have done what I did to you.”

  She chased after him.

  “I’m sorry.” He continued. “After she called me, I was frustrated with her. Then you went off about the whole cheating thing, and I was pissed at the world and needed to justify my feelings. I used you to do it, and that was shitty of me.” He kept walking to the kitchen without looking back. “Let’s forget it ever happened.”

  “What?” Parker couldn’t believe he said that.

  Gus tossed Rags a treat from his dog tin on the counter. Then he grabbed a cola from the fridge.

  “Are you kidding me? Forget that it ever happened?” With eyes wild and hands flailing in the air, she stomped across the tile floor toward him, not stopping until they were toe-to-toe. She glared up at him as he took a casual swig of his cola, ignoring her in-your-face attitude like she was nothing more than a fly on his shoulder.

  Rubbing his wet lips together, he eyed her with suspicion. “Yes, that’s what I said.”

  “So we say nothing to Sabrina about the kiss or you getting me off in my kitchen.”

  Gus’s head jerked back, eyes wide. “You got off on my—”

  “No!” Taking a step back, she shook her head several times and tried to gain some composure. “I didn’t actually … I just came close … or … what I mean is …” Her nose wrinkled as she fumbled her words. Embarrassment bloomed along her skin as it always did so easily around him. “Stop putting words in my mouth.” She pointed a stiff finger at him.

  He chuckled. “Parker—”

  “Stop saying my name!” She hated how he made it sound so dirty.

  He laughed, even more, holding up his hands in defeat. “Sorry, Ms. Cruse, I haven’t put anything in your mouth … yet.”

  She gasped. “Pervert! I’m telling Sabrina everything as soon as she gets home tomorrow. And when you’re out on your horny, cheating, egotistical ASS, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.” Riding a wave of adrenaline, she stormed to the back door.

  “Jeez, I was joking. But make sure you tell my wife that you’ve made a habit of not wearing a bra around me, Ms. Nipples.”

  Parker slammed the door and looked down at her fitted tank top that had a built-in bra. However, that extra layer of cotton didn’t stand a chance of keeping her nipples in line around cocky Gus Westman and his rude comments that seemed to turn her on as much as they infuriated her. “Son of a bitch …”

  *

  Parker fell in love with Caleb in one night. He offered to tutor her in calculus, and they stayed up until four in the morning discovering their shared love of country music, pickled eggs, Chuck Taylor Converse shoes, and Grey’s Anatomy. By the following week, she discovered her new favorite past time involved making out with Caleb in his parents’ basement while “studying” calculus.

  It took ten days for Caleb to take her virginity. It should not have come as any surprise that in the same amount of time August Westman seduced her with his words, made her question her morals, and wreaked havoc on her body. Three changes of underwear in one day seemed extreme.

  The following morning did nothing more than end a sleepless night. The better perspective she’d hoped for didn’t come to fruition. Dressed conservatively in baggy capris, an oversized black Iowa Hawkeye tee, and a bra with extra padding in the nipple a
rea, Parker went to work for her last day at the Westmans’.

  She planned on quickly completing the ridiculous tasks Brock emailed her the previous night, finish the day with taking Rags for a long walk, and confess her adulterous sins to Sabrina as soon as she arrived home. Drowning her guilt in a bottle of wine would top off her evening before scouring the internet for job listings in the morning. With a little luck, the receptionist job at the chiropractor’s office would still be available.

  It pissed her off to see Gus’s van still in the garage when she arrived, blowing her whole purpose of arriving a half hour later than usual.

  “Good morning, Rags.” Parker ruffled his fur and kissed the top of his head. “Did you forget to get your dad up and send him off to work?” She scooped a cupful of dog food out of the bin in the mudroom and dumped it in his food bowl then filled up his water dish.

  Silence enveloped the house. Even as she tiptoed up the stairs, she couldn’t hear any signs of Gus in the shower or getting ready for work. If his intention was to beg her not to say anything to Sabrina, then his efforts and late start to the day were going to be all for nothing.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake,” she whispered to herself upon seeing Gus facedown in bed with a pillow over his head and one leg hanging off the side. “Go to work, Mr. Westman.” With a swift tug, she pulled the blankets and sheet off him, leaving him in nothing but a pair of black briefs. It threw her off for a second, but she sucked it up and focused on the task at hand.

  “I’ve been instructed to change the bed sheets before your wife arrives.” She yanked the pillow from his grasp and stripped off the pink pillowcase.

  “What the fuck?” he mumbled into the mattress.

  “Get up, or I’m going to throw your ass in the washing machine with your girly, emasculating, pink sheets. Why don’t you grow a pair and tell Sabrina you’re not going to sleep in a cloud of cotton candy.”

  He turned his head to the side and squinted open one eye. “Why don’t you tell her?”