unnecessary for Parker to take me farther, neither of us said anything as we stepped into the elevator.
“This is a nice place,” he observed.
I stiffened, immediately self-conscious. Parker wasn’t an idiot and he had to know that I couldn’t afford a place like this on my own, even though a hefty chunk of my salary went to rent. My father had been adamant about me staying in a place he felt was nice enough and secure enough for his “baby girl.” It had been easier to give in, especially when my mother got so upset when Dad and I argued.
“Do you have roommates?” Parker asked.
I shook my head. “No. It’s just me.”
He nodded and I could see the wheels turning inside his head.
Seven flights later, we exited the elevator and I walked to the end of the hall, Parker at my heels. This felt like déjà vu, only not with Parker. I’d taken this walk with dates too many times not to feel the similarity. Inviting a man to my apartment after a date really meant just one thing, and of course that was all I could think about as I tried to unlock my door. But my hands weren’t cooperating, nerves and lack of sleep getting to me.
“Here, let me,” Parker said, taking the keys from me and unlocking the door. I tried to ignore the brush of his fingers against mine.
He pushed it open and I stepped inside. I had absolutely no clue what to do. I mean, yes, if it had been a date, I’d have known exactly what to do next. Depending on how badly I wanted to jump his bones, it was either “Hey, want a drink?” or “Here, let me help you with that belt.” Since I didn’t want to be fired on the spot, I settled for Option A.
Parker Anderson was in my apartment. That alone would keep me awake and fantasizing for hours.
“No, it’s fine,” I said, flinching inwardly at the anxious-to-please note in my voice. Hello, obvious.
“Then…a drink would be nice,” he said. “It’s been a while since I’ve been shot at.”
Oh yeah, let’s bring that up again. I turned away with a shudder, wishing I hadn’t known how close he’d come to getting hit tonight. Looked like I’d be having a drink, too.
“I have wine or bourbon,” I offered. “Beer, too, if you’d rather.”
“A shot of bourbon sounds good.”
I set aside my purse and scarf and reached up to take two glasses from the cupboard. I briefly thought about undoing two buttons on my blouse again, but discarded the idea. That would be tacky and way too obvious. After adding some ice to the glasses, I poured a hefty shot in both, then handed one to Parker, who’d sat on my sofa. After a brief hesitation and deliberation, I sat there, too. Not too close as in right next to him, but not farthest away either. Something in the middle.
I was really glad I’d taken time to pick up my dirty clothes that had been strewn about this morning. I loved my apartment and kept it pretty picked up. My mother had wanted to send her cleaning lady out, but I’d drawn the line at that. I’d decorated in peach and earth tones. I liked natural wood, so a lot of it was handmade pieces I’d picked out myself, some bowls carved from tree roots, a few pieces of African art, and vases filled with branches.
Parker took a drink of the bourbon, his Adam’s apple moving as he swallowed. Without his jacket and tie, the top button undone on his shirt, he looked less intimidating, though not by much.
He was a gorgeous man and when he dressed to the nines, he was more than enough to make a woman weak in the knees. Casual like this, his hair in slight disarray from pushing his fingers through it, a five o’clock shadow darkening his jaw, the muscles in this forearms flexing as he again raised the glass to his lips…the words panty dropping came to mind.
I sighed a little, realized I was staring, and quickly looked away. I took a steadying sip of the liquor, the cool liquid a contrast to the warmth it produced as it slid down my throat. I felt guilty and a bit embarrassed at the thoughts of Parker swirling in my head, but I blamed it on being tired…and the embrace we’d