Page 30 of No Broken Promises

Not when I’ve loved her since before I knew what real love was.

I set the letters on the couch next to me and bury my head in my hands before looking up at the picture of all of us, Danny’s smile, and the promise I made him, haunting me.

“That fucking promise is going to ruin my life.”

But for Parker?

“I’ll walk straight through Hell, smiling the whole time.”

I lean back on the couch, staring at the photo and taking comfort in the letters that sit next to me. I’ve kept them locked up and hidden for so long. Afraid that someone will know my secret, that even I’ve almost forgotten how they make me feel.

Safe.

When I close my eyes and start to drift off, I hear Daisy get up and her claws clack on the floor as she abandons me and goes to the bedroom to chew on my pillow, no doubt.

“I think we need to talk.”

A splash of cold water to my veins, her sweet timbre has my body jerking into action. I grab the box of letters as I open my eyes and shove them onto the ground, under the coffee table, to keep Parker from seeing them.

“What are you doing here?” My pulse races and I swear my voice rises an entire octave.

Parker raises an eyebrow at me, her hands on her hips and her lips pursed together in challenge.

“You ruined my night. I thought turnabout was fair game.”

I stare at her outfit and have to keep my mouth from watering. She’s changed out of the dress she’d been wearing at the restaurant, which had been lethal to my libido just with its existence. But now, she is wearing a pair of skintight black leggings, and I can’t seem to catch my breath.

Her shirt, low-cut and loose-fitting, reveals all her cleavage and pushes up against her curves, making my mouth water on top of everything else. I stare like an idiot and try to pull my shit together.

Parker doesn’t have a clue about the effect she has on me. She never really did.

“It took a minute. Actually, it took a few hours, but I figured it out.” She taps her finger against her lip thoughtfully. “I couldn’t figure out who would send me a Bloody Mary. They’re gross. I hate tomatoes. Always have. But no one knows that. No one but you.”

“You should go.”

She doesn’t budge. Instead, her eyes bore into me, seeing straight through my bullshit like she always has. Those eyes, I dreamed about them while I was overseas.

Parker’s eyes flash, and she crosses her arms over her ample chest, blatantly mocking my earlier stance at the restaurant.

“I only stopped to say ‘hi’ to an old friend, Remington.”

The growl leaves my throat before I can stop it. “My name isn’t Remington, Parker. Don’t call me that.”

The command in my tone spurs her into action, and I don’t miss the glazed-over expression that crosses her face. Her mouth opens in the prettiest little O shape that I’ve ever seen, before she quickly masks it, biting her lip unconsciously.

I barely bite back the groan threatening to escape at the sight of her doing that, instead turning my eyes to the ceiling and counting to ten silently.

“Jeremy.” Her throaty voice fills my ears, bringing my attention back to her.

When my eyes lock on hers, I see the pain there—the hurt. She breaks eye contact first, her gaze moving to my wrist, and I see the moment she knows the truth.

“You lied to me.” Fractured, she barely manages to whisper. “You told me you never got a single letter.”

Don’t look down.

Almost as if she reads my mind, Parker’s head drops, and the box of letters is right in her line of sight. Worse, there is a letter on the ground next to the box that must have dropped when I shoved them down.

Number 25.

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