10
The moment the plane’s wheels touch down in New York, I can hardly contain my excitement. Thank God Wendy booked me in first class and I get to deplane first. I’m positively itching to see Skyler.
I grab my two carry-on bags. Since I knew the case would only be a week, I packed rather light.
In mere minutes, I’m pushing through the airport crush to get to the arrivals area. As I approach, I see little Rachel Van Dyken. She looks as if she walked right out of a badass all-chick commando-type film. Her long, platinum-blonde hair is pulled back away from her face in a series of braids, sticking with the warrior vibe. She’s wearing black cargo pants, a matching tank, combat boots, and aviators. She’s leaning against the wall; one foot pushes off when she sees me. Only she’s not the only one drawing my attention.
Out of nowhere, a horde of paparazzi swarm, their camera flashes going at warp speed, blinding me where I stand. I lift my hand to block some of the flashes. My elbow is grabbed, and Rachel is yelling out commands to the photographers clicking away.
“What does Skyler think about your betrayal?” one man says.
“Did you take both women back to your hotel?” another shouts.
“Will Skyler forgive you?” I hear a third yell.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I toss out, confused, tired, and flustered. I’ve just arrived after a nine-hour flight, and I’m being slammed by a round of questions I know nothing about.
Rachel yanks on my elbow. “Do. Not. Say. A. Word. Follow me,” she grates through her teeth.
“But I don’t know what they’re going on about this time.”
Jesus. Every time I take a continental flight, I come back to chaos.
Growling my frustration, I push out with my suitcases and follow Rachel to the car waiting at the curb. Nate is in it.
“Good Lord!” he roars when he sees the swarm. He’s on me like flies on shit.
“Welcome home, Mr. Ellis.” He pushes back the crowd with his arms so I can move past him and into the blacked-out SUV. “Give the man his privacy, you vultures!” I hear him yell as I toss the luggage in the back with me and close the door.
Rachel whistles, already in the driver’s seat. Her husband jumps into the passenger side and spins around so he can make sure we’re not followed.
“Nice to see you guys, but what the hell was that? How did they even know I’d be here?”
Nate shakes his head while Rachel’s jaw firms.
“Your little friend, Martina, talks a lot,” Rachel responds snidely.
“My friend? She is not a friend. We hired her team to teach the models how to move their bodies.”
Rachel nods, her lips in a flat white line. She pushes a button on the car stereo, and the sound of a telephone call being made can be heard through the speakers.
“Do you have him?” Skyler’s voice is warm but direct.
“We’ve got him,” Rachel responds, focused on maneuvering the SUV out of the airport and onto the freeway.
“Skyler. What’s going on?” I ask openly, not giving a shit who hears me.
“We’ll talk when you get here. I’m glad you made it safely.” Her voice is now monotone, lacking any feeling. Not exactly the welcome home I expected from her.
Before I can say anything more, she hangs up.
“What is going on, guys? Talk to me. Please.” I’m not above begging. Something’s wrong with Skyler, the paps are swarming, and I’ve got the cold shoulder coming from the Van Dykens.
Nate turns around, his face a mask of unconcealed anger. I lean back and lift my hands in a gesture of surrender. “Bro, I have no idea why the press were here or why. You look like you want to tear my head off with your bare hands.” He could probably do it too. The guy is ripped.
“Probably because I do!” He frowns, and his voice takes on a serious tone. “You steppin’ out on Skyler?”
I jolt up straight in my seat. “Fuck no! What would give you that impression?”
He tosses two smut mags over the seat back to where I sit. On the cover of one is a picture of Skyler in tears. Not sure where the hell that came from or when, but the one next to it has my full attention. It’s the picture of Martina and me backstage before the show yesterday. The caption above says “Skyler in Tears. Parker Wooing Exotic Dancer in Italy.”
I groan and look at the next one. “Parker Gets Around. Skyler Is Furious.” This one has a picture of me with my arm around Sophie, the two of us laughing at something Bo said at the fashion show. Bo, of course, has been conveniently cut out of the picture. Next to the image is one of Skyler angry, which honestly looks like a picture taken years ago. Her hair is a different color now and much longer.
“Where do these bastards get off making this shit up! Martina was a teacher in the show. Sophie is my friend.” I press back into the seat and rub at my temples. “Is Sky pissed?” I hold up the two mags. “She believes this shit is real?”
Nate shrugs and turns to the front.
“I wouldn’t ever hurt Skyler like this. I care too much about her.” A pang hits my heart, and my chest feels tight.
Nate nods. “Yeah, we figured something was up, but we have Sky’s back first. You understand.”
I nod. “Does she believe this crap?” I toss the smut rags to the floor.
Rachel shakes her head. “I don’t think so, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt when she sees her boyfriend plastered all over the papers on the arms of two separate but equally beautiful women.”
Attempting to cool down right now is impossible. I’m seething. “Fuck, all I wanted to do was come to New York and spend some much-needed one-on-one time with my goddamned girlfriend. Now I’ve got to explain a completely innocent situation! Fuck me!” I run my fingers through my hair, tugging at the roots until I feel the bite of pain centering my anger.
“Talk to her, man. She’s waiting for you in the penthouse,” Nate offers. The anger in his voice and demeanor is gone now that he knows the truth.
Rachel pulls up, and Nate walks me into the building and straight into the elevator. I stand in silence, waiting for the numbers to rise to the fortieth floor, where I’m going to have to explain myself regarding a bullshit situation the media and paps created.
The elevator doors open, and Nate unlocks Skyler’s door, letting me in. “You guys going out tonight?”
“Fuck no.” I grit my teeth and enter the condo, every footfall harsher than the next. Her scent fills the air, and even though I’m pissed, the familiar, welcome scent soothes me.
“Sky!” I holler through the room, wanting to go right to her.
“In here!” she yells somewhere near where the kitchen is centered.
With quick strides, I make it to the kitchen. My girl is bent over the oven, ass in the air, checking something.
“Baby . . . ,” I whisper, and she stands up straight, closes the oven door, and spins around.
She’s a vision. Blonde hair down in beachy waves, her face with a hint of makeup, but nothing to take away from her natural beauty. She’s wearing an olive-green tank, which goes great against her honey skin tone. Her bottom half is encased in a tight, form-fitting pair of skinny jeans, which mold to every curve. Her feet are bare, toes painted a dark wine color.
I grind my teeth for a moment, taking in all that is her before I spew what’s on my mind. “Tell me you don’t believe any of the shit they printed?” My shoulders seem weighted to the ground, my feet in concrete boots as I wait for the verdict.
Skyler grins, which turns into a sparkling smile. She runs toward me and jumps up. I catch her at the ass, and she locks her legs around my waist and smashes her lips to mine. Her lips are warm and taste of cherry lip balm. I dip my tongue in, not waiting for her invitation. I need a taste, and when our tongues meet, we both groan. I turn around and place her on top of the counter, barely able to hold myself up, let alone her too with the amount of relief crashing over me. Skyler threads her fingers through my hair, tugging on the overlong strands curling at the top. She moans into my mouth, and I kiss her harder, deeper. I run one hand up her thigh, locking on to her hip, the other up her spine and into her hair, where I cradle her head. Our tongues duel for supremacy, both wanting to lead. I win, tipping her head to the side so I can delve deeper, take more, until we’re both a mess of wet, bruised lips.
Needing air, I ease back. She follows, and I smile against her lips. “Thank God.”
Skyler blinks her eyes open almost sleepily. “I never believe everything I read in the papers. Though the look of real concern on your face when you saw me said it all for you. I’m not sure what happened, but I trust you, Parker. If we can’t trust each other, we have nothing. Especially in my business.”
I press my forehead against hers. “I had no idea all that crap was printed. Once more, I got off a plane after landing in the States and was bombarded by the paparazzi spilling their lies.”
“So the picture of you and that Martina woman was fake?” She leans back enough so I can look her in the eyes.
“No, but they made it look like more than it was. Martina was a dance coach for the models Bo and I were hired to help. She taught them how to move their bodies. She and two others from her dance company. We spent the week working with women who’d never modeled before. It was amazing and exhausting at the same time.”
“Then she didn’t ask you out?”
Now how do I avoid this topic. Unfortunately I don’t think I can. I suck in a long breath and grip Skyler’s hips. I run my hands up and down her thighs, soothing my battered soul through touching her. “Actually she did ask me out. Offered me a no-strings-attached night of ‘fun,’ but I didn’t take her up on it. The picture was taken immediately after she asked me out. A random photographer came up and asked for a picture and said smile, and baby, I did it on autopilot. I’m sorry.”
She shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. And of course, I knew Sophie was going to be there. Then again, you looked pretty comfortable sitting there . . .” This time, her voice holds a teasing note.
I grin. “Well, Bo was on my other side, and you can’t see my other arm, but it’s around his chair too.”
Skyler traces my face with her fingertips, running her fingers from my temples down to my lips, where she caresses them with a feather-soft touch. “I believe you. At first, it irked me to see those pictures, but it’s going to happen. This isn’t the first time, nor will it be the last time one of us has something printed about our relationship that is so far from the truth it’s mind-boggling. We need to promise to always talk it out. If I’d spent time speculating which parts were the truth and which were lies, I would have gone crazy.”
I run my hands up her thighs and back down. “I’d never hurt you like that. And I promise to always be honest with you.”
She smiles, leans forward, and places a soft kiss on my lips. “It’s what I’ve come to expect from you. Part of the reason I like you so much. I always know where you stand.”
I nibble on her chin and along her jaw before bringing her into a full-body hug. She tightens her legs around my waist and wraps her arms around my back as I set my nose against the crook of her neck and breathe her in. She’s content to sit there while I hug her.
“I missed you, Peaches,” I murmur into her hair.
She hums, and I feel it straight through my chest on a path to my dick. “I missed you too. And I have a surprise for you, if you’d turn around and let me go.”
“I don’t want to ever let you go.”
She tightens her hold briefly. “Good answer,” she whispers against my cheek, before kissing the edge of my ear and running her teeth along it.
I chuckle and pull back, needing the room, or I’m liable to fuck her on the kitchen counter. Then again, it doesn’t sound like a bad idea.
“Turn around, pretty boy.” A coy smile spreads across her lips.
I step away as she slides off the counter. I turn around and see her kitchen table is set for two. Candles are burning, place mats set, fine dishware placed perfectly along with cloth napkins. She’s even added a bouquet of sunflowers, making her table bright and cheery to coincide with her romantic gesture.
“I’m cooking for you tonight. I’ve made my mother’s famous hot dish, a salad, and warm garlic bread.”
I mull over what she said. “You made me dinner, baby?”
She grins and nods. “All by myself.”
“You know how to cook?”
She shrugs. “A little. I know some of the dishes my mother taught me, and this one is my favorite.”
“Tater Tot hot dish.”
“Yeah.”
Not rack of lamb. Steak. Linguini, fish, or anything gourmet. My girl sets about making her man a meal and makes her favorite family recipe. Which also happens to be something a mother would make her small child.
“You did say Tater Tots, as in the square little fried potatoes we used to get back in the elementary school cafeteria?”
She looks around the room. “Is there another kind of Tater Tot?”
I cover my stomach, tilt back my head, and laugh to my heart’s content. “You are full of surprises.”
She snuggles up against my front, lifts her head, and pops up onto her toes. She kisses me firm and fast. “How about you go freshen up, put on some pj’s, and come settle in with a beer.”
“I didn’t bring pj’s.” I loop an arm around her waist and bring her body flat against my chest so she can feel every inch of me touching every inch of her.
Skyler grins. “Good thing I bought you a few pairs online and had them delivered. They’re stacked in a section of my closet. You can hang anything you want in there.”
“Moving me in already?” I tease.
She flicks her hair over one shoulder and frowns. “No. I wanted to make my man comfortable when he visits. I want you to feel like you’re at home here the same way you made me feel at home with your family at Lucky’s and in your apartment. No ulterior motives. I promise.” She crosses her finger over her heart.
I grin. “Thank you, baby.”
“Go! Get settled and come back. I’ll be waiting.”
My girlfriend will be waiting. I shake my head and smile while carrying my luggage to her room.
The next day, after what I found out is the best hot casserole ever and a fuck-a-thon with my girlfriend, we finally make it to the set. The director knew she was coming in late and planned ahead. Tracey meets us at the gate as Nate and Rachel exit the SUV and escort us to the entrance of the set.
Sky holds my hand, an ease about her I don’t feel within myself. The media is everywhere. The cameras are going off like a tornado around us, and my heart is in my throat.
My girl squeezes my hand. “Relax. They won’t bite. Much.” She winks.
The paparazzi are screaming out requests to Sky. Ever the professional, she turns her body toward mine and loops her arms around my waist.
“Get your pictures now, people. I’ve got a movie to film.” She laughs, and the crowd claps and whistles, some calling out questions.
“Based on your body language, I’m assuming you and Parker are still together?” one asks.
She answers him right away. “Yes. We’ve been together for a little over two months and are enjoying spending time together when our schedules permit.” She lifts her head and smiles at me while I look down at her pretty face. I want to kiss her so badly, but I’m afraid of breaking some type of Hollywood protocol rule I haven’t been informed of.
“What do you think about the pictures of the women he was with in Italy?”
“I trust my man.” She lifts her hand and places it on my stomach in a possessive gesture that speaks volumes. At least it does to me. I squeeze her shoulder, keeping her closely wrapped in my hold.
“Sophie Rolland is a personal friend of ours, and they attended the fashion show together. Martina was a dance coach hired by Parker to assist the models. You can’t believe everything you see in a photo!” She smirks, and the crowd laughs, taking picture after picture.
I stand there practically mute, holding her close, rubbing her shoulder and trying to smile as much as possible.
“Parker, are you excited about visiting Skyler on set?”
Sky nudges me, and I realize I’m supposed to answer the question. “Yeah. It will be great to see my girl in action and meet her coworkers.”
“What do you guys think of the media calling you SkyPark?” another calls out.
“Yeah, SkyPark!” another says.
Skyler and I both look at one another and start laughing hysterically.
“I guess I have my answer.”
Tracey butts in, an arm held out to each of us. “Sorry, guys, Skyler needs to get on set. Thanks for stopping by.” She ushers us through the gates, and Skyler and I both wave.
“Well, that wasn’t too bad,” Tracey says as we follow her to the huge concrete building a good fifty yards ahead.
I lay my hand on Skyler’s nape, and she smiles. “You were amazing as usual. You never miss a beat. I don’t know how you do it.”
She grins. “Years of practice. Don’t worry, you’ll be an old pro in no time.”
And the best part is her thinking I’ll be around long enough to have mastered dealing with the press when it comes to her and our relationship.
I smile and bring her in closer to my side as we walk. “Have I told you today how much I like you?”
She licks her lips and pats my ass with her free hand. “I do believe you have, but I sure love hearing it!”
“I like you more than I like my burgers and beer.”
Her eyes widen, and she pretends to gasp in surprise. “Not sure I can handle the depth of those words, pretty boy.”
I nudge her shoulder playfully. “Hey, don’t be knocking my burgers and beers. Before you, they were my one true love.”
Oh fuck.
Insert foot right into mouth.
Skyler stops in the middle of the sidewalk and stares at me. She swallows slowly, her eyes searching mine while I suck in a harsh breath.
“Baby, that came out wrong.”
She narrows her gaze. “Mm-hmm. I’m going to let it slide, pretty boy.” She pokes at my chest. “You better watch it, mister, or I’ll start to believe you like me more than . . . your Tesla!” Her mouth opens into a wide O that she covers with her hand.
I shake my head and curl my lips. “You’re lucky my cherry-red baby didn’t hear you say that. You are a piece of work, Peaches. You know that?”
Skyler shrugs and smirks. “Never been accused of being easy.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” I get closer to her and grab her by the hips, slamming her body against mine. “If memory serves, I got in this luscious body pretty easy . . . ,” I tease while slipping my hands around to her ass and gripping each cheek firmly.
She whimpers, and I squeeze her bottom again, harder this time, hopefully reminding her of the fun we had this morning. I got those cheeks nice and rosy pink with a handful of well-placed smacks to her heart-shaped ass.
“Guys, you do realize the paparazzi can still see you, which means the pictures of you guys kissing and groping one another will be tonight’s Hollywood news,” Tracey says. “Congratulations, Parker. Everyone’s going to know you’re an ass man.”
I groan and place my forehead against Sky’s. “Nothing’s sacred, baby,” I complain, pouting.
“It is. Just not when you do it outside of the privacy of our bedrooms or houses. Now you know, for next time.” Tracey responds while Sky snickers.
“I’m already going to have to call my mother about the Martina and Sophie press. Now she’s going to scold me for not treating you like the lady you are.”
“Aw, your mom thinks I’m a lady. That’s so nice. I love Cathy.”
“Oh, she loves you. By the way, she thinks Catherine Paige is an excellent name for her future granddaughter.” I nail her right in the gut with my innuendo.
With that offhand comment, I let her go and follow Tracey, this time an arm’s length from my beautiful girl.
“Excuse me? What have you been telling your mother?” she fires off, a hint of indignation in her tone. “Let’s go back to the future-grandchild part of this discussion.”
I shake my head. “Nope. Gotta get to the set. Besides, you need to introduce me to Rick the . . .”
Her eyes go wide, and her face takes on a warning expression as her eyes flick to Tracey.
I barely regurgitate something believable. “Rick, the costar of the movie.”
She sidles up to me and interlaces our fingers. “Nice save there, SkyPark.”
“Ugh. Did they really give us a Hollywood-couple meshed name?”
Skyler grins. “I actually like SkyPark. It sounds pretty cool. Remember Brangelina for Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie?”
I shiver.
“Or Bennifer for Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez.”
I suck a breath in through my teeth. “SkyPark works.”
“That’s what I thought. Come on, I want to introduce you to the team.”
“Lead the way, Peaches. I’ll follow you anywhere.”
“Aw, that was really sweet.”
“Was it? Huh.” I rub at my chin with the hand not holding hers. “Following you means I get an excellent view of your ass in those jeans.”
Skyler tips her face to the sky and groans. “Why me?”