Vintage Volume Two (9 page)

eleven

The days separating me from Parker seemed interminable. I more than missed him. You miss a television show when it’s between seasons or you miss baseball in December. I ached for him. I longed for him.

And it wasn’t just his strong arms protecting me from whatever threat was lurking in the shadows. It was everything about him—the way he talked to me, the way he understood me, the way he loved me.

I already knew that what we had together was unconditional. It had changed once we’d been forced together for a month during the tour. At first, the idea of being forced together with him made me miserable. But once I got past the betrayal and the lies and realized that he had his reasons for what he did, I had a hard time functioning without him.

I was working, this time on registers. The store was fairly busy since we had a local singer coming in for a signing later that evening, but I’d requested the early shift because I knew Parker was coming home that night. I wondered why Barry had never thought to set up a stage for short performances. Even one or two songs would easily gain us two or three times the number of customers.

My mind flashed to Damien as I rang up someone purchasing a Nirvana t-shirt and CD. He’d loved Nirvana, and I always thought of him when I passed our merchandise sporting their name.

And just as quickly as thoughts of Damien entered my mind, they disappeared when the bells above the door jingled and Parker James walked into my store.

My heart jumped into my throat as I stared at him from my spot behind the register. I watched him look around the store, and then his eyes found mine.

And I felt like I was home again.

I always felt like I was at home when I was in the store, but having Parker there was different. Intense.

Perfect.

His face lit up as a grin spread across his lips, and I forgot the customer I was waiting on as I ran from behind the register to meet him in the middle of the store. He grabbed me into his arms and held me tightly for a moment, whispering into my hair. “I love you so much, Jimi. I don’t ever want to be apart from you again.”

I felt tears in my eyes, and I wasn’t even sure why. This was all so cliché, like some big reunion in a movie. I felt eyes on us, but for some reason, I just didn’t care. Privacy had always been a priority, but in that moment, Parker was my only priority.

He pulled back from our embrace and his lips pressed to mine. My entire world shifted to the way it was supposed to be. The ache I’d repressed for two weeks was gone the moment my eyes had met his from across the store.

He broke away from our kiss, his eyes burning into mine. It was one of those moments where our unspoken conversation was louder than any words could ever be. In his eyes I could see the love he had for me and the same pain I’d endured. He saw the same emotions mirrored back at him.

“What time do you get off?” he finally asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.

“Six.”

“I’ll meet you at your place at six-thirty. Okay?”

I nodded. It was less than an hour until six, but I knew it would be the longest hour of my life.

I needed Parker back in my space.

I remembered a time when I had just met him, when I hadn’t been ready to share my address and my home with him. And now home felt empty without him there to share it.

While we’d grown close over our time on the road together, nothing compared to settling into the routines of our daily lives. I knew his routine would never be normal because of his career, but it was the principle of it.

I was certain our reunion would start with the two of us in bed. We’d always been magical together, and while sex certainly wasn’t the only base of our relationship, it seemed to set everything right between us. It drew us closer in intimacy, but it also managed to bond us emotionally. I needed it, and I could tell from the way he pressed his body to mine that he needed it, too.

But after that, I had an awful lot to discuss with him.

For starters, I needed to tell him about the bankruptcy. I wanted to figure out how to save Vintage and subsequently how the hell to run it.

I wanted him to know about the threat we’d received. I’d held off on telling him because he was on the road. I didn’t want him to worry, and I knew he had the guys from his band surrounding him. My dad informed me that George had put a security guard on Flashing Light during the tour, and he remained with them for their extra performances.

I wanted to ask Parker to move in with me. It wasn’t a stretch, really, considering my dad wanted him watching me as often as he could. It just made sense.

And, perhaps most frightening of all, I had to talk to Parker about marriage. I wanted to marry Parker for real, and I wanted more than anything for him to know that.

I just had no idea how to even start that terrifying conversation.

“Oh shit,” I said, glancing toward the register. “I have a customer.”

Parker chuckled and grabbed my hand, leading me to the register to finish the transaction. “I haven’t been home yet,” he said after the Nirvana man went on his way.

“You came here first?”

“Of course.”

I wasn’t sure why I was surprised by that, but I was.

“I needed you in my arms. I’ve been stupid worried about you for the past two weeks after protecting you for the last month.”

I couldn’t help my smile. “Well I’ve been stupid worried about you, too, Parker.”

He leaned in for another kiss just as Tim walked up to the register. “You’re on the clock, Roxy,” he reminded me.

“I’ll go,” Parker said. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

I rolled my eyes. “Tim’s not going to do anything.”

Tim raised an eyebrow in my direction, grabbed a binder from behind the register, and headed back to the floor of the store, pulling down a pencil that had been perched behind his ear.

Parker kissed me once more and then headed toward the exit. My heart dropped when he disappeared through the doors. I missed him already. Again.

My shift went faster than expected as I prepped for the signing. Tim asked me to stay late, but I had a pressing appointment ahead of me, so I declined.

I raced home, making it in record time. I had ten minutes before Parker was set to arrive, so I changed out of my t-shirt and jeans and into a dress that made me feel pretty. I brushed my teeth and combed my hair. I touched up my make-up, and then I put in my favorite earrings: simple one carat diamonds that my dad had given me for my sixteenth birthday.

I wanted to make an effort for Parker, even though I had very limited time in which to do so.

I heard a knock at my door and my heart raced into overdrive. I wasn’t sure why I felt as nervous as I did; it had only been two weeks that we’d been apart, but I felt like a giddy girl going on her first date with the boy she had a crush on.

I had a lot that I wanted to say to him. Words that had gone unsaid in those two weeks apart needed to be said that night.

I checked my reflection once more in the mirror, drew in a shaky breath, and headed toward my front door.

There was no way I could have expected what was behind that door.

I opened it and first spotted the flowers Parker held in his hands. There had to be two dozen white roses.

And then I noticed Parker. He stood anxiously in a black suit. He wore black pants and a black jacket with a black shirt underneath. He even wore a tie—black and silver plaid. He looked refined and dangerous. His dark eyes gleamed in my direction. He cleared his throat nervously and handed me the flowers.

I wasn’t sure what to feel, but about a thousand emotions lanced through me. Curiosity, nervousness, and unbridled lust, to name a few.

I wallowed in the emotions. After not feeling them for so long, this felt good. Parker felt good.

“What’s all this about?” I asked, stepping aside to let him in. I set the flowers on my dining table situated near the door.

He took my hands in his.

“You look extraordinary,” he murmured. His voice caught nervously. His nerves were making
me
nervous.

“So do you. I’ve never seen you so dressed up.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so dressed up.”

I giggled. I couldn’t picture a time he would have been apart from school dances or maybe a wedding.

“Look, Jimi. I didn’t do this right the first time. I let other people talk me into something that I knew wasn’t right. But I need to correct that mistake. And this time, it’s just you and me. There’s no one else here to judge or to report back or to see what’s happening. Just us, okay?”

“Just us,” I echoed, sublimely confused at the direction of this conversation. It was the suit. He was jumbling all of my thoughts standing there in a suit, looking so goddamn handsome that I had to force my eyes to blink.

I didn’t want to miss a nanosecond of Parker James in a suit in my foyer.

He took my hands in his. His were ice cold, which was unusual for him. He always radiated warmth.

“I love you,” he said, the nerves in his voice subsiding to a deep and genuine sincerity. “I think I loved you the second I first saw you when your dad asked me to watch over you, and the more time I’ve had the honor of spending with you, the deeper I’ve found myself. I’m in this forever, Roxanna.”

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my lips. “I don’t want some stupid fake engagement, and the second I did it, I knew it was all wrong,” he continued. “I want to marry you. I want to be with you. I want to protect you forever. I want that ring that symbolizes the lie off of your hand.” He paused, and he pulled the ring off of my finger. He set it on the table as I held my breath.

“I want you to wear the ring that I chose for you, not the one George picked up. I want this to be real, because I’ve done a hell of a lot of thinking over the past two weeks, and I know that my life was empty until I met you. You fill it with laughter and energy and strength, and I want that. I want you. Forever.”

Parker knelt down on his right knee. My heart raced in my chest.

This was different than the last time. Last time was in front of a crowd of fifteen thousand people at Raleigh’s Walnut Creek Amphitheater.

This time was real. This was just for us. This was in the privacy of my home. This was Parker declaring his love for me, telling me he wanted to spend the rest of his life committed to only me.

He flipped open a jewelry box that he’d pulled from his pants pocket.

An oval diamond was horizontally perched over two thin pave-diamond encrusted bands that twined together. The ring screamed
Vintage
to me. It suited my tastes completely, as if I’d gone myself to choose it.

It was perfect, but Parker was even more perfect.

Just like before, I didn’t care about the rock—even though it was just right for me. I cared about the commitment. And I knew my answer before he even asked the question.

“Jimi, will you—”

“YES!” I shouted before he had the chance to complete his question. He slipped the ring onto my finger.

I knelt down in front of him and wrapped my arms around him. Somehow our mouths crashed together to seal our commitment. He held me in his arms for one sweet moment, and then the sexual tension always present between us crashed down on me.

I pushed his jacket down his arms and he pushed my dress up to my waist. He manhandled my breasts roughly as I cupped his cock through his pants. A sexy growl of lust rumbled up from his chest.

Clothes flew in random directions and somehow sealing our commitment with a kiss turned into sealing our commitment with sex.

He pulled on my panties until they snapped clean off of me, and I fumbled with his zipper while I fondled him through his pants. His heavy groans matched my loud moans. It had been too long, and there was too much pent up emotion between the two of us. Somehow I ended up beneath him.

He helped me with his zipper and he sprung free from the cage of his pants. I stroked his cock slowly. A long and slow growl emitted from him. He looked down at me through heavily lidded eyes. “You’re the last woman I want to fuck for the rest of my life,” he said, and then his cock slammed into me.

My head hit the floor behind me, but I didn’t care. When Parker was inside of me, that was all that mattered. He repeated his thrusting rhythm, driving me closer and closer to orgasm within mere seconds of his entrance. He had the right formula for satisfying every need I had, and that was only part of what made him perfect for me.

“Oh my God,” I yelled as his lips met my neck. He grinned as he continued pumping into me.

“Fuck,” he muttered, thrusting up and lingering inside of me as he came. It was too quick, but we’d been apart for too long.

He drove me into my own orgasm, and then his mouth found mine for a slow and sensual kiss, a heady contrast to the fast fuck he’d just given me.

We collapsed together on the floor. Parker drew a pattern of circles on the back of my hand. I was totally worn out and sated, and even though I was lying on the floor, I never wanted to move. Ever.