Page 27 of No Broken Promises

“You can do this, Parker,” Danny repeated while he grabbed my hand and took it in his, hope shining in his eyes. “Just give me a chance to make up for what happened. I’m supposed to be deploying, and they’ll pull me if this gets out. I might even be discharged if the truth… If I don’t do what’s right, my mom is gonna kill me. I can’t knock you up and leave. Once I get home, we can get a divorce. I just can’t deal with the blowback from my family right now.”

His blue eyes shone bright that night, sitting in the front seat of his truck. I felt like I was about to throw up, and it didn’t have anything to do with the pregnancy.

The tears started to leak out of my eyes, and I pulled my hand away from him, trying to curl into a ball. “I don’t think I can.”

At seven weeks pregnant, we were running out of time to make a choice. A choice that Danny stripped away from me in the first place.

“You know I don’t love you, Danny. It wasn’t supposed to be this way… It can’t be this way.” I screamed and cried in my mind, trying to erase that night every single time I closed my eyes.

The sad smile on his face threw me off, in complete contrast to the excitement I saw shining in his eyes, and for a moment I was afraid of Danny. “It wasn’t supposed to be me. You mean me, Parker. And I know that. But it is. I promise, I won’t hurt you again. Just… give me this one thing, okay? No one has to know this is why. We can pretend. You can pretend. You’ll have insurance or whatever you need for the baby.”

I swallowed down every bit of doubt and nodded. “Okay. But only until you get home.”

That’s right, Parker. Danny’s voice fills my head as I remember that I am not actually sitting in his truck, but in my own car, in a completely different time. You can do this. You can do anything. I’m so sorry for everything I put you through.

Great, my dead husband is giving me a pep talk about going on a date with a complete stranger. A pep talk he never would have given in real life because he was a selfish prick.

My life is a wreck.

11

PARKER

Rose hooks me up with a hot guy. There is no other word to describe him. Benton Mays may have chosen to be a college professor, but my first impression of the man is that he must get hit on by all of his students. I swear and think about leaving before he sees me, but then he stands up with a broad smile on his face.

When he walks away from the table toward me, the way he moves holds me transfixed. And even though he is gorgeous, there is something missing. His brown eyes seem dull, and the tattoos on his arms aren’t nearly as bright as Remy’s are. He isn’t quite as tall, either.

When the fuck did I start comparing men to Remy?

I shake my head slightly and put a smile on my face, although I’m pretty sure it comes across as a grimace.

“Hi…” My fucking voice betrays me, barely a squeak.

I don’t even know what to expect. Is he going to shake my hand? Hug me? In the two seconds it takes for him to jump into action, my entire body starts to sweat. At least I am wearing my favorite pair of jeans and a loose-fitting blouse, because there’s no way in hell I’ll be able to hide sweat stains on anything else I own.

“You’re gorgeous.” He doesn’t eye me up and down like I think he might. Instead, Benton’s eyes stay glued to mine, and for a second, I see an entirely different life.

One I hadn’t chosen by making a reckless decision, where I laugh, live, and love in an entirely different way. One that vanishes when I blink, and I am once more in this life.

“Thank you,” I manage to say. “I’m Parker.”

He laughs, a deep and soul-filled laugh. “I know. You look nothing at all like your sister or mother, though. And just a little bit better than the photo Rose showed me. I’m Benton. Benton Mays.”

The small light of happiness at his compliment falls behind the simple fact of why I don’t look like Emma or Rose, but I choose not to tell him. To save the night and enjoy the first bit of fun I’ll have with someone who doesn’t know my entire sordid history.

“It’s nice to meet you, Benton.”

“Now that we have that out of the way, let’s eat. I’m starved.” He guides me back to the table and pulls out my chair like a gentleman.

Everything about Benton screams gentleman, even if the muscles bulging out from under his dress shirt and the tattoo that snakes out under the rolled sleeve onto his arm scream of all the naughty things he’ll do to someone in bed. What surprises me most of all, though, is the fact that I actually enjoy myself. Especially when I’ve been prepared for the date to crash and burn before it even starts.

“Excuse me.” The waitress appears at my side, and I turn my attention away from Benton’s description of one of his students’ poor excuses for not finishing a research project to see her holding out a Bloody Mary with an unsure expression on her face.

“I didn’t order that.”

The expression on my face has to be frozen because she sets the drink down and subtly nods in the direction of the bar.

“Looks like maybe you’ve got an admirer.” Benton laughs, completely throwing me off guard.

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