EPILOGUE
Raven
Two weeks later.
"This is a mess!" I slammed the cloth down on the bar. "How do they expect me to handle all these damn requests? Like, sure, I can find high chairs at a three-hour notice. Oh, and you want the pita bread cooked to a certain color? Sure! Don't worry, I won't sit you anywhere near each other despite having no control over it at all, and no, it's not a big deal that I've closed my whole freaking bar for the day!"
Parker blinked at me. "Do you need a Xanax?"
"I need to run away," I muttered, snatching the cloth back up. "This is ridiculous. How are we expected to do this?"
"With a great deal of stress and craziness."
"So, like every other day, then."
He laughed. "Pretty much. But, you've got this handled. Food is cooking. Cocktail jugs are almost done. I think you're just getting a little wild over it all."
I glared at him. "Look at my phone. Look how many messages there will be."
He picked up my phone. His eyes briefly widened. "Sixteen messages?"
"That's been my phone all day. Great Aunt Maria has asked me no less than sixty times if I will be making jugs of the Pussy Pounder. Yia-Yia wants to know if you've got enough gyros meat and has called me three times to ask. Dad wants to know how much whiskey I have in stock and wants his name written on one bottle so everyone leaves him alone. Aunt Alexa wants to know if my grandpa will be there. And that's just the start."
"Is your grandpa coming?"
"Yes. That's the scary thing." I sighed. "I don't think my heart will hold up to this reunion."
"Your heart?" Parker sputtered the words out. "How old are you? Ninety-five?"
I threw the cloth at him, but he caught it. "Stop it. I'm having a meltdown over here."
"I know. I'm watching you. It's a little scary."
"It's what you're signed up for."
"Is it too late to back out of this relationship thing?"
I wiggled my finger at him. "Don't think I've forgotten how you and Ryan came in here after he found out about us. You don't get to tease me about being a little crazy when he dragged you in here by the scruff of the neck for absolutely no reason at all."
"Yeah, well, that wasn't my idea."
"That absolutely was your idea and you know it."
"Mighta been."
I shot another glare his way. "Don't you have a shit ton of stuff to be doing instead of annoying me?"
"No. It's what you're signed up for." He grinned.
"Ugh." I grabbed the cloth from his hands and shoved my way past him. Tablecloths still needed throwing down on the long tables I'd had to rent. At least I didn't have to pay for those—after Parker and I 'came out,' my grandmother started passing me her credit card because I needed my money for my upcoming wedding.
I didn't know who was planning this wedding or when it was, but I smiled and went along with it because I didn't have to pay, and she'd be gone in three days.
I would miss her, but my god, I was looking forward to the peace that my family's absence would bring.
"Have you told your mom you're staying yet?" I glanced over at him, picking up the tablecloth.
Parker shook his head and came to help me. "I think she's probably figured it out, but I need to figure out my living situation first. Living with my parents wasn't in my ten-year plan."
"You've barely been there in the last few days!" I whipped the sheet over the table, and he grabbed the other side of it. "You've spent most of your time here. You hardly have a living situation to figure out, do you?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Are you telling me to live here?"
"I'm telling you that you practically do. I washed your socks this morning, for the love of god."
"Can you do my red t-shirt, too?"
"If I had something to throw at you, I'd be doing it." I smoothed out the top of the cloth and moved to the next table. "But thank you for proving my point."
He grinned, unfolding the cloth. "You're welcome. If you want me to live with you, all you have to do is ask."
"Let me start this by saying I don't particularly want you to live with me." I took the corners form him. "I'm merely stating that you practically already do. I think doing someone else's laundry is one of the criteria. Asking someone else to do it for you definitely is."
I was going to put that red shirt in with one of his white ones to teach him a lesson.
"I should bring the rest of my stuff here," Parker mused. "It would lessen my commute."
"Commute? You haven't commuted for three days, you tool."
His grin widened. "Exactly, and I'm finding that I like it."
I side-eyed him as I moved to the third and final table. "If you want to live here, all you have to do is ask."
"I dunno—have Satan's hellhounds made anymore appearances in your dreams?"
"They probably will tonight. With any luck, they'll be chasing you."
He laughed as he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. After brushing a kiss over my bare shoulder, he said, "I did find an apartment."
"Great. Go pay rent for you to decide you want to finish work and not leave." I rolled my eyes and escaped from his clutches to finish straightening the cloth.
"You're right. It really is a lot easier to just live with you."
"I wouldn't say it's easier."
"I didn't mean in general. Work-wise, it's easier. Otherwise, I'm probably slowly torturing myself." He grabbed me back and kissed me. "You're just lucky I love you."
My heart jumped. He'd never said it before. "Lucky is stretching it a bit."
"Say it back or I just made a complete tool of myself."
"You always make a tool of yourself."
"Raven. You're giving me a complex."
I laughed and, gripping his shirt, reached up onto my tiptoes and kissed him firmly. "Next time you decide to visit your parents," I said, trying not to laugh again, "Bring the rest of your stuff back. I guess I won't set my dream hellhounds on you, because you really are pretty lucky I love you."
Parker grinned, squeezing me against him. "Now, I hate to break up this lovefest we have going on, but I'm going to burn food if I don't put you down."
"Are you making gyros?"
"Yes."
I wriggled away from him and shoved him in the direction of the kitchen. "Go. And bring me a taste test."
"A taste test, huh?" The grin didn't leave his face as he opened the door. "Fine, but you owe me a blow job."
My lips twitched. "Hellhounds, Parker. Hellhounds."
His laugh echoed, even after the door shut.
I couldn't stop my smile. I expected a lot of things at the start of this summer. Hiring Parker wasn't one of them—and falling in love with him definitely wasn't. I was the mixologist, but there was no doubt at all that he'd come home and mixed up my world.
Four weeks ago, I would have minded.
Now, I didn't mind at all.
In fact, I was glad.
Because, somehow, as little sense as it made to me, there was no doubt about it.
Parker Hamilton was my person.