| |
His truck had never seemed so loud before as it did with Kayla sitting in the passenger seat, silently watching the landscape go by outside her window.
He wished she would look at him. Talk to him. Kiss him again.
But the road continued in front of them and he followed it, dutifully, begrudging every inch the tires traveled. Night was falling, dragging its dull darkness over every tree they passed.
Parker held back a growl. It didn't help his nerves that Kayla was wearing a little dress that barely hid her thighs or her tits. Sure, she looked hot as fuck, but it looked like it was trying too hard, that dress. Like it belonged on a woman who craved attention, but who didn't want to come by that attention honestly. That wasn't like Kayla, at all.
There were two reasons he'd subjected himself to this torture. One: he needed to apologize to Kayla. Whatever her reason for being afraid of driving, she shouldn't have had to do something she was scared of—not when it had been his job to drive. Two: he couldn't abide the thought that she was once again walking into danger. That cougar had confirmed his suspicions the other night. This was a dangerous pack.
That Jameson was allowing Kayla to risk her safety by walking right into their territory not once, but three fucking times drove Parker nearly insane with anger and fear.
He still owed her an apology for last night, but he wasn't sure how to bring it up. He'd heard plenty of apologies in his lifetime. His stepdad, sobbing to Parker's mom that he was sorry, so sorry, and he never meant to, and that was the last time. His mom, sobbing to Parker that she was sorry and that if it happened again, they were leaving.
Funny thing, it sounded like the truth each time those two apologized. Those promises had been real at the time they were made.
"Last night," he finally said, breaking the silence. "I'm sorry."
She shrugged, one tanned, slender shoulder moving up and down. "It's okay."
"No, it's not. I shouldn't have left. I wanted to put distance between us."
"And you were successful," she said.
He shook his head, clenched the steering wheel. "It was wrong."
"Well, I accept your apology." She turned back to the window. There was nothing to see out there, just trees and more trees.
Parker huffed in impatience. "Would you talk to me, please?"
"Really? Now you want to talk?" she asked.
"Yes." He wanted to shout it, but reined in the impulse.
"Okay. What do you think of my dress?" she asked, smoothing down the skirt.
He gave it another appraising once-over. This was a dangerous question, because he had to be honest, and truthfully, he didn't like the dress at all.
"You look good in whatever you wear," he said in a low voice.
"But this dress in particular?"
Why was she pushing this point? There was nothing to be gained by making him answer this question.
"It isn't you." There. She'd asked, and he would give her an honest response.
Instead of looking offended, she smiled. "I guess you know me at least a little bit, then."
"I know you a lot."
She snorted in disbelief.
"What?" he asked.
"You don't know me at all," she snapped.
"I know you better than you think I do."
"Pull over," she said.
"But—"
"Pull over. Then turn off the engine."
Although he was puzzled, he did as she asked, then turned to face her. Without the sound of the engine, the cab of his truck felt more intimate. It made him feel vulnerable.
"You don't know me," she said, "because I haven't told you anything."
He swallowed his retort of well, who's fault is that? Because he knew damn well whose fault it was—it was his. She'd tried to get close to him for months and he'd repeatedly shoved her away.
"I haven't been listening," he said after a moment. "But I'm listening now."
Taking a deep breath, she said, "Driving is hard for me. Hell, even being in a car is hard for me."
Parker nodded. "Okay."
"It might seem really dumb to some people, so I don't talk about it a lot. But my dad died in an accident—a car accident."
"I'm sorry," Parker said.
Kayla nodded. Like Parker, she was probably used to people saying that about her dad. He knew he'd heard it enough growing up, although once his stepdad came into the picture, the sympathy—and friendships—had mostly ended.
He felt compelled to add, "My father is dead, too."
She reached over and took his hand. It was something.
"The part I don't like to talk about," she said, "was that I was driving the car. I killed my dad. I'd just gotten my license, and I insisted on driving everywhere, like teenagers do. He made me buckle up because it was the law, but he never bothered. I mean, we're shifters. We heal so fast, who needs seatbelts, right?"
Parker just nodded. He was guilty of not buckling up on occasion.
"My mom kinda lost it after that," Kayla said. "I did, too. And I wouldn't drive anywhere. Still haven't. I kept my license because it just makes sense, and I renew it whenever I need to. But until last night, I'd never managed to get behind the wheel again."
"I can't tell you how sorry I am," he said, then winced. It sounded like something his stepfather would have blubbered after a drunken rage.
"You couldn't have known, because I didn't tell you," she said.
"And you couldn't have told me, because I wasn't listening," he said.
When he squeezed her hand, she squeezed back.
"I should explain something, too," he said.
Kayla nodded. "I think I'd like that."
He doubted anyone would like knowing about this, but he needed to tell her. Somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted, its low tone mournful.
Finally, Parker forced the words from his mouth. "My stepdad hurt my mom."
"I'm sorry, Parker," Kayla said quietly.
"It's in the past, but it was hard when I was a kid," he said. "Then, when I got old enough to stop him, I tried to. And you know what my mom did?"
"I can guess," Kayla said in a sad voice. "She defended him, didn't she?"
"Yeah. She kicked me out of the house, said I wasn't allowed to hurt her mate."
"For fuck's sake," Kayla muttered. Then she said, "Sorry. I shouldn't talk about your mom that way."
"It's all right. We're on okay terms now, because he died a few years ago."
"Good riddance," Kayla said.
Parker nodded. "I barely knew my real dad. My stepdad's the one who raised me. There's an ugliness inside me that he planted."
"I find that really hard to believe," Kayla said.
Parker didn't want to tell her any more. He'd already shared so much—more than he'd ever told anyone else. Up until now, he and his mom were the only two souls who knew what his stepdad had done.
"I feel...angry," he said. "I feel angry a lot. And jealous."
"About what?" she asked. "Lots of people feel angry and jealous sometimes."
"About you."
"Oh."
Yeah, that oh said a thousand words all at once. Here was the rejection he'd feared and expected. Parker tried to pull his hand away from hers.
She wouldn't let him go.
"You've never hurt me," she said.
"I've yelled at you."
"Only because I was yelling at you first." She smirked.
"I choked you."
She whispered, "Only because I liked it."
His cock stirred at the memory of the way she'd wriggled around him, gasping for shallow breaths while he held her throat and thrust his cock in and out of her pussy.
"Parker," she said, "I've gone out with a guy who was all wrong for me before. He hurt me—not physically. And not in any way that I liked. I know you, and I know you wouldn't do that."
It was true. He'd rather die than hurt her. His voice came out as a croak. "How can you trust me, when I don't trust myself?"
"Because I love you." She unbuckled her safety belt and clambered across the bench seat toward him, then straddled his lap.
He leaned forward to kiss her, his entire body straining toward her, wanting her closer.
She leaned back against the steering wheel, which thrust her breasts forward in that stupid dress.
"I don't like you," she said.
The lie was so evident, he couldn't help but smile. "I don't like you, either. Kayla—I love you."
He reached up and gripped the back of her neck, then hauled her closer so he could take her mouth in a kiss so fierce, so savage and wild and ruthless, that in mere moments they were both panting. Only his jeans and her underwear stood between them, otherwise he would have been pulling her down on his rigid cock and exploring her depths again.
Leaning back, she gasped and ran her fingers over the buttons on his jeans. But a faint buzzing sound reached his ears. He gripped her wrists in his hands.
"Is that your phone?" he asked.
"Shit," she said. "Yes."
He felt her absence keenly as she climbed off his lap. His cock was like a heavy pillar in his pants, straining against the fabric.
Kayla pressed a button on her phone and looked at the screen. "It's Sloan, wondering where I am."
Parker could only nod.
"We should get going, I guess," Kayla said.
"The only place I want to take you is back to the RCC," Parker said. "You don't need to do this. I'll turn us around right now, and you call Sloan and tell him it's over forever."
Kayla sighed. "There are these papers Bronson didn't want me to see. If I could just get a closer look at them, I'm sure it would give us some answers about what they're up to."
Anything he said now would sound jealous and sulky. He didn't want to scare her off after having just admitted those feelings.
"I'll get a peek at them tonight and then I'll be done with this nonsense," she added.
They drove again without talking, but now they held hands. He stroked his thumb against hers, loving her softness, loving the contact. He never wanted to let her go.
"We're here," she said, much too soon for his liking.
He pulled into the dirt area and stopped the truck. "I don't like this," he said.
Her mouth was a tight line. "Me, neither. This is the last time."
All he could do was give a single, quick nod.
She leaned across the truck and kissed his cheek. He turned his head, kissed her back, tasted bubble gum lip gloss and sunshine and pure, unadulterated Kayla. Reluctantly, they pulled apart at the same time.
"I hate you so much," she whispered, gently cradling his face.
He heard the lie in her words, which was the only reason he could say, "I hate you, too."
She gave him a soft smile. "Good. I'll be done here in a jiff, and then we can go home and hate each other all night long. How does that sound?"
"Sounds so fucking good."
She pressed one last kiss to his lips. "Then I'll see you in a couple of hours."
As she walked down the road toward the Bitterroot boundary, Parker had to clench his fists and take deep breaths to prevent himself from shifting and running after her.