Page 33 of The Wrong Heart

The front door busts open and my brother saunters through, a little grin unfolding when he spots Leah beside me on the couch. “Morning,” he mutters, kicking the door closed with his heel.

“What are you doing here?” I inquire, but it’s a baseless question. West always drops by unannounced.

“Dad said to take a look at your bathroom, and I finally have some free time. The master, right?”

I frown. “I’m good, West. I hired someone already. He should actually be here within the hour.”

West slips out of his shoes anyway, eyes locked on Leah. “Sweet. I’m off the hook.”

“How is Dad? I need to stop by for dinner. I’ve been so busy.”

“He’s good. Still overfeeding the dog. Still pissing off Mom.”

I let out a chuckle, despite the pit that forms in my chest when I think about visiting Mom and Dad. I love my parents, I love them so much, but they remind me of him. They remind me of the life I no longer have. When I look at them, I see dinner dates with Charlie, I see bonfires in their backyard, I see my wedding day, my father walking me down the aisle and my mother weeping in the front row.

I see their horrified faces when I finally woke up in that hospital bed, teetering the line between fading away forever and making a comeback.

I know I can’t stay away forever, but I still need more time.

The sound of my name has me jerking my head up, pulling me from my idle thoughts and wicked memories. West eyes me from the opposite loveseat, a cup of drive-thru coffee twirling between his fingers. I blink. “Huh?”

“I asked if you were coming out with us tonight. To the brewery.”

“Oh.”

Maybe. Maybe I can do that.

I do feel better. More composed. More…me.

I’m about to respond when a knock at the front door has me jumping to my feet and instinctively smoothing down my hair and adjusting my blouse. Leah sends me a curious look as I shuffle to the front entryway, clear my throat, and pull the door open.

Miserable.

He looks absolutely miserable.

I’ve determined this is just his face, so I hide my wince and smile at him. “Hey. Thanks for coming.”

Parker’s eyes hold with mine, and I can’t tell if they are ice cold or blazing fire. Either way, I feel a temperature shift as he stares at me. His work t-shirt is scuffed and faded, his jeans worn and hanging low on his lips, weighed down by a tool belt. Dark hair curls along his forehead, a little shaggy and mussed, giving his hard exterior a flare of boyish charm. But the rough stubble shadowing his jaw and the muscles that flex beneath the thin layer of cotton when he steps forward, tell me he’s all man.

“That’s the arrangement.”

I chew on my inner cheek when he pushes through the threshold with his toolbox and his clean, woodsy scent. “I know. But I’m sure you’re busy, so I appreciate you squeezing me in.”

He makes some kind of humming sound, or maybe it’s a grunt, giving me a quick once-over before shifting his attention to the right. Parker’s eyes drift between West and Leah as he stands there rigid, sporting his trademark scowl, looking as if he was trying to find a church but walked into a brothel instead. He’s clearly not a people person.

“Hey, man.” West holds up his coffee cup in greeting. “How’s it going?”

Leah sends him a little wave, her cat eyes assessing him like she’s on the prowl.Shameless.

“This is Parker. I met him through…” I trail off, remembering that I met him through a suicide prevention group, and that’s probably the most awkward introduction ever. Regrouping, I clear my throat and finish, “A networking thing.”

Leah mouths to me, “Sign me up.”

I feel my cheeks heat as I shift back to Parker, who towers over me like a giant shadow, dark and mysterious.

Parker blinks back at me, expression unchanging. “Bathroom?”

“Yes. Right. Follow me.”

---