Her Marine Next Door - Aliyah Burke Page 0,68

outweighed everything else. Murray in hand, she slowly made her way to the front door for the second time today. With a deep breath, she pushed the doorbell.

A bit of time passed before the door opened and she was face-to-face with Gemma once more. She looked like she’d just rolled out of bed, and not from a bender. Unless it was a sex bender. A worn marine shirt hung off one pale shoulder and fell to midthigh on her.

“You again? Christ. What now?”

She held out the bear, and Gemma snatched it away. The sun glinted off a ring on her finger, and sourness churned in her gut before Skylar reminded herself again, she didn’t have any say over the man in there.

As she began closing the door, Skylar heard Parker say, “Who’s at the door?” his voice low and bedroom deep.

“No one important. Go back to bed and I’ll be right there.”

“Okay.”

Her emotions had been broken as well. He’d apparently moved on like she’d told him to do. At home, she made straight for the bottles she’d intended to drink last night.

She bypassed the empty glass and tipped the bottle of cinnamon schnapps to her lips.

…

Parker braced his hands on the kitchen sink and closed his eyes. Seeing Skylar this morning had been hard as fuck. He’d fucking tried to get her to talk to him, but she’d made that impossible. And short of breaking and entering to force a face-to-face, he had to wait for her. But she was cagy and not at all easy to corner. And he missed the fuck out of her. So it would have been perfect to see her after being on base for the past week, if not for the fact that Gemma had been there. He needed to talk to Skylar, to fight this insane idea she had that this couldn’t work between them. Stop letting her hide from him. He swore she’d been there for him when he’d been in the hospital, but his mother had been the one to bring Cullen and him home. Maybe he’d imagined it, but he didn’t think so. He had to get it all straightened out. Good news was the fall hadn’t set him back with his recovery.

Gemma said Cullen had sneaked through the fence once more. He’d bought it, because he was notorious for doing that. Surely Skylar understood he had to give a bit to Gemma—she held Cullen’s future in her hands. He didn’t like it, but there it was. For a single dad on active duty, to get full custody wasn’t easy, and he didn’t want her to rabbit with his son.

This entire situation had gone to shit. He was angry. Skylar was removing herself from the picture. And Cullen was hurt.

He had to figure out a way for this to work. His love for his son was unquestionable, but he couldn’t ignore the feelings Skylar Radford stirred up. He was going to have to man up and face it all, no matter how he looked doing it.

A childish need for her to hurt like he was owned him, so he’d regurgitated what Gemma said without thinking of the consequences. It didn’t bring him joy—none, not even a tiny shred—and she strode away without even a farewell to Cullen.

He went inside, hugged his son again, and crashed. The doorbell had woken him, and he’d stumbled out to find Gemma closing the door on someone. Now he was awake and showered.

“Why are you in my shirt?” he asked when she strolled into the kitchen.

She smiled and tucked a blond curl behind her ear. “I needed something quick when the doorbell rang.”

He grunted and looked out the door at Cullen, who played with his handyman workbench.

“Supper will be ready in about an hour,” she said lightly, touching him on the back. Then she moved on, so he didn’t think anything of it.

In the living room, he paused by the end table and frowned as a crumpled piece of paper caught his eye. About to toss it in the trash, he paused when he recognized Skylar’s handwriting.

Heartbeat kicking up, he opened it and read:

Cullen is at my house next door.

I’m keeping him as you are passed out on the couch.

I’ll bring him back in the morning, so don’t bother coming over tonight.

—Skylar

Parker took a deep breath. Then several of them. After he reread the note several times, he allowed his gaze to dart to the mother of his child. He moved toward her with two