Chapter Two

Skylar went from dead to the world to wide-awake. As early-morning light filled her room, she ran over yesterday and remembered the dangerously deep gouge in her hand due to Parker Jax.

She stretched, wincing over the lingering pain in her palm. No. It wasn’t his fault, no matter how much she wanted to blame him. Sure he knocked on the door, but that could have happened anytime.

Her mouth was dry and had an off taste in it. Medication, most likely.

Exhaling heavily, she rolled from bed and stared at the stitches in her hand. “Least I can still work, I hope. Granted, with slight modifications.” It would just be a bit slower than she would like.

While her hand wasn’t without pain, it wasn’t her dominant one.

After covering her hand, she showered, brushed her teeth, and dressed. Back in her room, she made sure it was pristine. Then she walked to her kitchen and started a pot of coffee. And frowned, paused, then backed up to peer into the living room.

Was she crazy?

Parker Jax was stretched out on her couch, her Celtic knot blanket draped over him as he lay there. One arm was over his eyes, making her focus entirely too much on his muscles and the incredible display of tattoos on his arm.

Right here, right now, he evoked something so much deeper than the anger and frustration she typically had when around him.

Wriggling the fingertips of her uninjured hand as she approached, she paused by his feet. She hesitated in touching him, highly aware he could react dangerously.

Kissing him awake had potential. Perhaps he’d respond favorably, at least until he realized who it was.

“No need to kick me, darlin’, I’m awake.”

Skylar jumped back as though he’d hit her with a cattle prod and had been privy to her private thoughts. She flushed. “I wasn’t going to kick you.”

His chuckle rumbled through her, centering its attention over her clit. She struggled to hide her gasp of longing and need as he sat up, watching her with an unflinching gaze.

“It was all over your face, darlin’.” He pushed to his feet and began folding up her blanket. “How are you doing? How’s your hand? Pain level okay? Need meds?”

Her brain scrambled to make sense of his line of questions. But dammit, it was early morning and she hadn’t yet had her coffee. Here he was, standing there in all his muscular glory, derailing her brain. And him calling her “darlin’” didn’t help. It shouldn’t matter. She’d heard him toss that around to the women at his parties. It was as natural as breathing to him. Nothing special.

“You were here all night?” See? She could make a logical inquiry, all without sounding like a panting hussy.

“Yep.” He finished folding, then draped the blanket over the back of the couch; even that was made to be a sexual act. “You’re not answering my questions.” Parker stood and captured her wrist.

Maybe she was the one with the issue, and everything she thought about this man was sexual. “Why would you do that?”

“Because the doctor said you shouldn’t be alone.” He checked her bandaging job, eyes on the work, not her. “Looks good.”

Her mind wasn’t comprehending anything he said. His touch absorbed it all. The words slowly sank in, and she blinked.

“It wasn’t necessary to forgo your endless stream of homecoming pussy to crash on my sofa.” She took her hand back and sighed as embarrassment smacked her.

God, that was incredibly rude.

Her parents would have kicked her ass for such behavior.

He lifted an eyebrow, and she sucked in a deep breath before asking forgiveness. A knock on the door interrupted her apology. Bypassing the hunk of man in her living room, she headed for the front door.

Could her day get any worse?

She opened it to find her visitor to be Mrs. O’Neary from across the street. Her pink-and-blue geometric pattern dress, years out of date, completely fit the woman.

“Morning, dearie.”

“Good morning, Mrs. O’Neary. Out bright and early I see.”

Her smile brought one out in Skylar.

“I have to get my walk in before it gets hot. I wanted to make sure we were still on for the trip we have later today. Oh”—she blushed, then smiled again—“I didn’t mean to interrupt, I didn’t know… Good morning, Mr. Jax. Nice to see you up early this morning instead of late afternoon, as usual, after your party.”

Skylar struggled not to cringe—their neighbor was a notorious gossip; she had no doubt this would be all over their section of the subdivision before noon.

Parker stepped up beside Skylar, a roguish smile on his face. “I’ll admit I’m a slow learner, Mrs. O’Neary.” He slid his arm around Skylar, tugging her flush against him. “But once I figure it out, I’m on it. Looks like the two of you are making some plans for the day. What trouble are you getting into?”

It irritated the hell out of her that he was asking Mrs. O’Neary, but Skylar understood why—she wouldn’t have told him. She wasn’t someone who shared a lot of things. Skylar did share confidences with her ex-sister-in-law and her bestie. Other than that, she held it in and kept to herself. Easier, she’d learned, to avoid more questions and sympathetic looks.

It was probably better this way, because she probably couldn’t make any coherent sentences with him touching her. If she were to open her mouth, it would most likely be to ask him to touch her again, in places he hadn’t yet, and all without her clothes on. Or his.

“She’s taking me to the Humane Society to pick up my cat. I’ve gone three times and he’s the one I want, so today is the day we bring him home. And then we’re heading to the pet shop for supplies.”

Parker nodded. “Skylar is amazing, that’s for sure.” His fingers flexed against her side.

Skylar struggled to make sense of the words, because all of her attention went to the strength of the arm around her. And the way it made her feel. Her stomach was in knots and her legs about as sturdy as a tower built out of Jell-O.

Mrs. O’Neary clasped her hands together, an idyllic smile turning up her thin lips. “He truly dotes on you.”

And the conversation needed to end. Now.

Ensuring her smile never faltered, she covered Mrs. O’Neary’s hands with her unbandaged one. “I’ll be over to get you in three hours.”

“Wonderful. I already have some names picked out for him.” She clapped. “I’m so excited.”

With a wave, the brightly colored dress and the woman it covered went back across the street. Right now, Skylar could use a nap, and apparently some meds, for she still remained pressed up against Parker.

She turned to the man whose arm continued to feel so good against her and found him staring down at her. “Why would you pretend we’re together? You know that woman is a notorious gossip. Sweet as pie, but can’t keep her mouth shut to save her life.”

“Who said I was pretending?” He winked, then kissed her.

Skylar’s entire world shifted on its axis. Knees trembling, she leaned into him with a whimper. This was no tender kiss. No. He possessed every inch of her with it, tongue surging through her mouth. He slid his around hers.

Christ. She’d forgotten what a kiss was like.

The man ended the kiss, tugging on her lower lip in a playful tease. “See you later, baby.” Parker smacked her on the ass, then he strode out the door without a look back.

Chest heaving, she closed the door and rested against it with a groan.

…

Five hours later, she carried Mrs. O’Neary’s newly adopted cat, an orange tabby with a ripped ear and a stubby tail, who lay quiet in the crate, from the truck into her neighbor’s house.

After getting all the needed feline items, she helped her get Absinthe—the cat—all set up in her home before leaving them alone.

Skylar stepped outside, enjoying the warm day. Unbidden, her gaze drifted across the cul-de-sac to the open garage belonging to one Parker Jax. Music blared, and he strode into view.

Fuck me.

Shirtless with low-riding jeans, he caused her to lose what little breath she had. Those intricate tattoos were a road map she wanted desperately to explore. Especially the ones that dipped below that waistband.

With my fingers and tongue.

He wiped off his hands as his large steps carried him to his bike. Parker lifted his head as he dragged one hand along the seat.

Fuck. Just that one look had her panties damp and every inch of her craving his touch.

That kiss meant nothing to him.

Who gave a damn if this—or was it that—man had made her feel something since Reggie? Her husband had been the complete opposite of Parker. But those thoughts weren’t pleasant, and she shut them down. Fast. Today wasn’t a day for dwelling in the past.

Not acknowledging Parker, she went to her truck and drove away. There were things to do, and nothing on her list had a damn thing to do with daydreaming about her sexy Recon Marine neighbor.

Skylar didn’t return home until nearly three in the afternoon and backed up to the garage. It took her a few trips to unload everything, but soon she was in her backyard with the newest member of her household.

Alpin.

Her senior Scottish deerhound mix. She’d been working on getting him while she’d been in with Mrs. O’Neary.

He’d been at the shelter for a while, and they’d said nobody seemed to want the senior dog. All it took was one look at his warm brown eyes and she’d been lost. Now he ambled around her decent-sized backyard surrounded by the five-and-a-half-foot fence.

“Where you been?”

She stiffened at the decadent voice flowing over the fence to her ears. Closing her eyes briefly, she took a deep breath and turned to find Parker staring at her.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jax. I hardly see how my whereabouts are any of your concern.”

Even the scruff lining his jaw couldn’t detract from the obvious clenching it did.

“Really?” He cut his gaze to her side, and she rubbed her fingers along the wiry hair on the head nudging her. “You got a dog.”

She smiled, and it came so much easier this time. “I did. His name is Alpin. I see you’re getting ready to have another party or a continuation of the one you had last night. Maybe this one is to make up for the fact that you crashed on my couch and missed your shindig?”

His eyebrow rose as he swung his gaze back to her. “Jealous, baby?”

Yes. “No reason to be. You’ve had them since you moved in, and all that makes it there from my house are devices or appliances that plug in.”

His kissable lips—that had been incredible against hers—quirked up. He rested strong forearms on the top of the fence.

Bastard was far too tall for this. “What kind of other devices do you have that plug in I may be interested in knowing about?”

He flashed a grin at her, and she would’ve humped his leg like a dog had there been no fence between them.

I’ve got it so bad.

Biting the inside of her cheek to maintain a composed expression, she shrugged. “I have no idea what you could be talking about. Do keep your women quiet tonight. Not all of us have the luxury of getting up at noon.” She headed for the sliding glass door.

“Anything battery-operated we could use?” he hollered after her. Her steps stuttered. “I can’t promise they’ll be quiet. Care to find out how loud I can make you scream? I think that could be even more fun.”

Her slit pulsed. Please, yes.

“Goodbye, Mr. Jax.” Once Alpin followed her in, she slid the door shut on him, her temptation, and the music.

Only thing she knew for certain was her battery-operated devices would surely get a workout tonight.

…

Parker Jax finished cleaning his kitchen—there wasn’t a party planned for tonight and there wouldn’t be, although Skylar assumed he’d be having another. Unless she wanted to have a private one with him.

She looked so much better today. The sun fucking loved her skin, not that he blamed it. And her curls. When he’d kissed her this morning, he’d allowed himself a light touch of them and knew one touch would never be enough. He didn’t count the touches when he’d carried her to and from the hospital and they’d brushed his shoulder. The way she’d pressed against him, allowing him to hold her up while her curves were along him. He was a far cry from a saint but dammit, she could make one sin.

Having been there all night had given him the opportunity to figure out what that amazing scent she had around her was—a perfect combination of fresh peaches and frosted raspberries with a light hint of mint. Who would have known it was a scent that would have him harder than steel and randier than a ram during mating season?

Leaning against his counter, he thought about asking her out or inviting her over for a meal. They could have a serious discussion about his idea of them sleeping together; after all, they were both adults, had needs and wants. Surely they could work this out.

And I can resolve my itch for her.

Then, when he was cleared for duty again, there’d be no hard feelings, because they’d both have gone in with their eyes open.

A solid plan. And one negating the need to dig for feelings. He didn’t do that. He wasn’t a man who did—he was a Recon Marine, and he’d grown up learning that you didn’t do feelings.

Watching his father with his mother had only solidified that. He could count on one hand the number of times, in his entire life, he recalled his father telling his mother, or him, that he loved them.

The doorbell rang, and he pushed away to go open it. Perhaps one of the older neighbors needed something.

Or maybe Skylar was coming over.

Phone in his pocket, he strode to the door. “Yeah?”

The person standing there wasn’t anyone he’d expect to see on his doorstep, definitely wasn’t one he wished to see again. Gemma something or another. A one-night stand that hadn’t been all that memorable, but he didn’t forget the women he slept with.

The woman before him didn’t look anything like the one he’d taken to bed. Okay, more like it was against the wall of the hotel they’d used. That woman had been thin with large boobs, a tiny waist, and full lips. The one before him now was dangerously thin, with sunken features and dark circles below her eyes, her blond hair drawn back in a functional ponytail.

Signs of habitual drug use.

He crossed his arms and waited for her to say something.

She shifted her feet and wiped a hand under her nose. “Parker.”

He ran a dispassionate gaze over her. The clothing she wore was clean but not new. The most startling thing was the little rich-chocolate-headed boy standing next to her, holding tight to a faded brown-and-yellow teddy bear.

“Gemma.”

Two questions raced through his mind. One, how had she learned where he lived? And two, what could she possibly want? He’d been specific about their time being a solo event.

She pasted on a smile that originally had gotten him to pick her. Sassy with a hint of sex kitten. Right now, it didn’t work, not at all.

“We need to talk.” She licked her lips and sidled closer. “Do you have a moment?”

“Not sure what we could possibly need to talk about.” He didn’t back up, just waited.

The rumble of Skylar’s garage door opening snagged his focus. He had to get to her before she drove off. He wanted to have dinner with her and needed to make sure she’d taken her meds. Her truck was parked on the driveway and as she stepped out to lower the tailgate, he breathed a bit easier.

Had he gone into stalker mode? Nah, he just had a serious hard-on for his neighbor.

Gemma cleared her throat. “I’m standing here with a kid. Look, could we please step inside and discuss this?”

Her first sentence snared every ounce of his focus. “Are you trying to tell me that this…” He coughed a few times, not wanting to insult the kid, but not knowing how much he could or couldn’t understand. “That I’m his…”

Fuck. He couldn’t even say the word.

She nodded.

Shit could have blown up around him, and it wouldn’t have been a greater shock.

“And you’re just reaching out to me about this now, why? Didn’t think maybe it would have been best to tell me about him say, oh, I don’t know, when you knew you were fucking pregnant?” His growled words spilled free, and he reined himself back in when the boy’s eyes widened and he took a step back.

“I was scared and didn’t think you’d care. I messed up.” Another swipe under her nose. “I can’t do this on my own, and I’m reaching out for help. We can work at being a couple again and do what’s best for our son.”

He narrowed his gaze. “So, you roll up in my life after nearly four years and present me with a kid, telling me that he’s mine, and now you want to move in as if we’re one big happy family? Did you even think that I might be married or seeing someone?”

That someone was unloading wood from the back of her truck. Something she shouldn’t be doing at all with her injured hand.

An idea sprouted in the back of his mind.

“If that’s the case, you can give us a place to stay until I get back on my feet. Look, I know this isn’t what you were expecting but you can’t just throw us out on the street.”

There was desperation in her tone. Was she always this whiny?

He moved his gaze from her to the car she drove. A Mercedes, not new, but not a classic. It did look as if a ton of crap was shoved in the seats.

“I need a DNA test.”

Her eyes widened, but she held out hands that shook and agreed.

If she weren’t telling the truth, perhaps she wouldn’t have been so quick to say she’d do the DNA test.

Perhaps this boy is mine.

“We’re not staying here together.”

“You’re making me and your son stay in a hotel? I’m sure there’s room here, Parker, for us to stay.” She gestured to the house he still hadn’t allowed her in. “Or is this place only a one-bedroom?”

The commanding edge to her tone struck a nerve, but he bit it back, because it played into what he ultimately wanted.

“Come on,” he ordered, even as he strode over the manicured lawn between his house and Skylar’s.

He waited for them to join him at the edge of her paved drive. Then he took a deep breath and called out, “Skylar?”

She poked her head out of the garage seconds later, and her gaze skimmed the three of them. He wouldn’t swear on it, but he was almost positive her eyes softened when they passed over the boy.

Beckoning to her, he made her lock gazes with him. “Come here, baby, I have something to tell you.” Her eyebrow rose slightly at his use of “baby,” but she didn’t refute him. That’s a positive sign.

“This is who you’re dating?” Gemma bit off.

“Mind your tone and words,” he snarled in response.

He stepped forward and held out his palm, grasping Skylar’s uninjured hand, making sure to lace their fingers. He drew her close and tipped his head to look down at her, reveling in what this allowed him to do. Touch her. If this worked out, he’d be in her home tonight.

Then he could move on to the next step in a fling.

He brushed his lips along hers, so light he wasn’t sure it hadn’t been his imagination; however, her sharp breath told him she’d experienced the bolt that rocked through him as well.

Parker repositioned himself so Skylar and he faced Gemma and the boy. Maybe I should ask what his name is.

He reluctantly released her hand and then put his arm around her. Even with the light sweat from moving the wood, she still smelled like fresh peaches and frosted raspberries with that slightest hint of mint, the scent that drove him crazy.

He’d address her hauling wood with her injured hand later.

“I meant what I said, Gemma. I demand a paternity test to prove what you’re saying about…what’s his name?”

“Cullen.”

He liked the name. “Got it. Cullen. However, in the meantime, I won’t make you two get a hotel. You can stay at my house.” He tightened his grip on Skylar. “I’m over here mostly anyway, when I’m home from deployment.”

There wasn’t any way to hide the sharp intake of breath from Skylar, and he flexed his fingers along her skin. Yes, this was exactly where he wanted to be. The woman beside him stiffened, but didn’t argue.

Plan had altered but again, Recon. He would roll with it.

Gemma’s glare zeroed in on them both, mostly Skylar. She moved her ponytail back from where it had fallen forward over her shoulder. “Why would you be here with her when you have a home right there?”

He nuzzled the soft curls around Skylar’s ear. God, he’d never get enough of her hair on his skin. “Because Skylar is my fiancée.”