Page 27 of Someday You Learn

“I know.” He sighs. “But no one from the animal hospital can know, not even Beth.”

Nodding, I say, “Agreed.”

“Next, no more lying to me.” His words are sharp, but fair.

“You got it.” And then a thought comes to mind. “I guess that makes this a good time to tell you my father thinks I’ll be staying with you?”

His eyes bug out. “What?”

“I mean, wouldn’t it make sense for me to be staying with my fiancé?”

Parker closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Jesus. Yeah, I guess so.”

“I also didn’t tell him the truth about my job.”

His eyes snap back open. “Which is?”

“That I don’t have one. You said I’d be working remotely, which was kind of you—but I actually quit.”

“That’s right, you’re a lawyer. Your dad always talks about how proud he is of his lawyer daughter.” He shakes his head. “Not a teacher like I assumed.”

I nod. “Right.”

“Then what was with the blue paint under your fingernails?”

The details of his memory take me by surprise. “You remember the color of the paint under my nails?”

He shrugs, looking away. “Well, yeah. You don’t see blue paint under people’s nails every day.”

“Huh.” I lean back and fold my arms over my chest.

“Huh? What does that mean?”

“Can I ask you a question…without you getting mad?”

His brow furrows. “I can’t promise that.”

“Well, do your best for me then, will you?”

He blows out a breath, his irritation building again. “What is it, Cashlynn?”

Swallowing down my nerves, I uncross my arms, biting my bottom lip as I glance down at Parker’s mouth—the same mouth that did magical things between my legs. “Do you…have you…ever thought about that night?”

His entire body goes still, his jaw tightening as his eyes darken slightly. Then, after a beat, he licks his lips and replies in a low, measured voice, “No.”

“Liar,” I retort, fighting my grin as heat floods my cheeks. And there it is—memories of that night, the way we’d moved together, each kiss and touch like wildfire. I clench my thighs as desire hums through me.

We just sit there, silent, staring across the table at one another. My pulse thrums in my ears, a soft ache building inside me.

“Rule number three,” Parker finally says, breaking the silence.

“We’re numbering them now?”

“Rules are always numbered.”

“Only if you’re a rule-follower,” I counter.

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as if I’m exhausting him. “Are you going to argue with me about everything?”

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