“Fuck,” I mutter in frustration. A sudden panic rises in my chest. I’m fearful that she’s never going to see past all of that. How can I make her see that this is different? That me spending time with her is different. Sure, it didn’t start that way, but well, now it is. It takes one long stride to be standing toe-to-toe with her. My hands cup her face, and I angle her head so that she’s looking at me.
“This is different, Parker. You’re different.” Something flashes in her eyes, but it’s gone before I can get a read on what it was.
“This isn’t slow,” she whispers. She swallows hard, and I want to press my lips against her pulse anything that connects me to her on a deeper level. I crave that connection with her.
“Trust me. This is slow. If it wasn’t, I’d already have had my lips on yours. I’m not going to stand here and spout bullshit that I don’t understand. All I know is that this started out as less. You shot me down, and I wanted you. It’s as simple as that. However, things aren’t that simple anymore. You’re all I think about, and I crave the moments I get to spend with you. I can’t see anyone but you, and that should scare me, but it doesn’t. So, yeah, this is definitely different.” She’s staring up at me with what looks like hope in her eyes. She’s hoping that I’m not feeding her a line of shit, I’m sure. I’m going to prove to her that I’m a man of my word.
I want to kiss her. I want to bend my head just a little farther and press my lips to hers. I want to taste her. I want to know if her lips are as soft as they look. I run through the ramifications in my head. I told her we’d go slow, but dammit, the need to kiss her is strong.
“How’s it going?” Tosha says from behind us, effectively ruining the moment.
Closing my eyes, I push down the anger of being interrupted. Did I not ask her to give us some time? Dropping my hands from my girl’s face, I turn to look at the woman over my shoulder. “We’ve been up here maybe five minutes. I asked you to give us some time.”
“Do you have any questions?” she pushes.
I’ve had enough of this woman. “No. We’re done here.” I reach for Parker’s hand, and surprisingly, she’s there, ready and willing to lace her fingers with mine.
“Oh, okay, well, off to the next house,” Tosha purrs.
“Actually, we’re done here. I’ll be calling your agency and getting a new agent assigned to us, and we can look at the houses then.” Tosha’s face pales. “You’ve blatantly flirted with me, and she’s right here. My hand is locked in hers, and you damn well know it.”
“I-I’m sorry, Hold” she starts, but I cut her off.
“It’s Mr. Bailey. I will be talking to your supervisor.” This isn’t me. I’m pretty even-keeled with this kind of thing, but Parker makes every situation mean more. She deserves respect, and I refuse to work with someone who won’t give it to her. It’s eye-opening and different for me, but it feels right, and I know that it is, so I’m going with it.
“Mr. Bailey,” she quickly corrects. “What can I do?”
“You can go sit in your car and let us have time to explore this place. You can apologize to my girl, and you will treat her with respect.”
Tosha turns to look at Parker. “I’m sorry. I’ll be outside if you need me.” She turns and rushes down the stairs as fast as her skyscraper heels will take her.
“I’m sorry,” I say, pulling Parker into a hug. Fuck me, but it feels good to have her wrapped up in my arms like this. I don’t know what’s happening here, but I do know that whatever it is, I don’t want it to stop.
She pulls out of my embrace. “Come on, let’s have a look around.” With a small smile, she steps into the room, and we do just that.
All the bedrooms have their own bathroom. The master suite is huge, and the bathroom is bigger than my room at my parents’ place. “We could definitely play baseball in here.”
“I’m not sure if you’re channeling your inner Nickelback or if it’s just your love of the game,” Parker teases as she steps into the shower, turning in circles with her arms stretched out beside her.
“Can it not be both?” I fire back.
“Yeah,” she agrees, “it can be both.” She takes a seat on the bench in the shower. “This would be great if they had a wand here, so when your significant other is shaving her legs, she can rinse off.” She points at the wall. “Or you know, after a game when you’re exhausted, and you want to shower, but you’re too damn tired. You could just sit here and do your thing.”
“I could always have one installed.” I don’t tell her that I’m picturing her with a different kind of wand. You know, the one otherwise known as my cock.
“You could, but Holden, this is a lot of money. If it’s not everything you could ever want it to be, then pass until you find what you’ve always wanted.”
It’s not lost on me that when I try to think about what I’ve always wanted, it’s her face that comes to mind. Is it possible to want something, to want someone so bad, even when you never knew it’s what or who you wanted?
“Let’s go check out the downstairs.” She steps out of the shower and moves past me.
I want to reach out and lace her fingers with mine, but I know I’ve already pushed my luck today. My actions have not reflected our agreement of going slow. I blame her. She’s too damn sexy and intoxicating for me to keep a level head when she’s close.
Forty minutes later, we’ve walked through the entire first floor and the finished basement. Parker was right when she said this place was huge.
“So, tell me, does this place feel like home to you?” she asks as we slip back into our coats.
“Not really.”
She nods. “You didn’t seem to be feeling it.”
“It’s a beautiful home, but I want to see the others.”
“Well, Mr. Bailey, what are we waiting for?” She pulls open the front door and steps outside. I hit the remote start on my truck to get the cab warmed up before stepping up to Tosha’s car.
“We’re ready for house number two.” The real estate agent nods, and I turn away, not sparing her another glance. How could I when I have Parker sitting in my truck waiting for me?
“I’m starving,” I announce when we reach the truck. We just left the third house, and it's late afternoon, closer to dinnertime than lunch.
“Where are you taking me?” she asks.
“What sounds good?”
“Anything. I’m withering away over here, Bailey,” she teases.
“I should have stopped before this house,” I admit.
“It’s fine. I’m just messing with you, but food is our next stop.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I chuckle. I’ve noticed I’ve been doing a lot of that today. Parker is so much fun to be around. She’s real and honest. She gave me her thoughts on each house as we toured them. I’m not used to women not throwing themselves at me. To have an actual meaningful conversation is new and welcome. Most of the women in my orbit just want the status that comes with being seen with me. Parker doesn’t want or need that, and it’s refreshing.