Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 155405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 777(@200wpm)___ 622(@250wpm)___ 518(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 777(@200wpm)___ 622(@250wpm)___ 518(@300wpm)
At school, it’s common knowledge that any asshole who even looks at Parker for too long is going to get a visit from me. Since middle school, the mere threat of it has sufficiently dissuaded most guys—and the more persistent ones got their asses kicked.
I like to fight, and none of them ever have.
The natural consequence is that Parker made it to senior year not only untouched, but probably with the notion that guys tend not to be that interested in her.
Parker’s social circle has never extended far beyond school, so I never had to worry about her meeting guys in other places. She worked at her mom’s dance school which is pretty much all girls, and she’s in enough school clubs to keep her pretty busy at Baymont High.
Obviously, when I didn’t live with her, there were certain places I couldn’t monitor her. I would have never known if she went to a restaurant with her mom and some overzealous waiter flirted with her. I would have found out if it went beyond that and turned into something more, but it never did.
After last time I refused to go to dinner with them, she probably thought she had a safe haven at the club.
But if she thinks I’ll fail to patrol my territory just because I’m pissed off at my dad, she’s going to be very disappointed.
Parker watches out the window as we approach the club. I’ve seen the million-dollar view so many times I don’t even notice it anymore, but since she’s gazing at it, I do, too.
The sun drops lower and lower in the sky as we inch toward sunset. The country club is built on the side of a cliff with killer ocean views. Outside, tables are set up on the patio area where plenty of Baymont’s more affluent citizens are enjoying their dinners.
Parker sighs softly, so I guess she enjoys the view.
I guess I do, too.
The car slows down under the portico. This place has valet parking, so my dad puts the car in park but leaves the engine running. Gemma grabs her purse and climbs out. Rather than get out on my own side, I scoot across and exit the same way Parker did so I can keep a close eye on her.
Dad gets out and approaches the valet stand.
Parker trails behind him, then lingers off to his side.
Typically, my father is a man who commands attention and respect.
Typically, a valet might offer a polite nod, but would hardly even notice whoever was with him.
So, when this valet’s gaze lands on Parker first and he has to visibly remind himself to greet my dad, I fucking notice.
Most of the valets here are older, but he’s a young guy, probably in his early twenties. He has dark hair that he keeps a little too long. I’m surprised management doesn’t make him cut it or at least slick it back. He’s wearing black slacks and a white dress shirt with a red vest over it like the other valets, but unlike the other valets, he’s rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up to just below his elbow, so the ink trailing down his tan left arm is clearly visible above his black watch.
He doesn’t look like any fucking valet I’ve seen.
As soon as he has written down my dad’s information, his dark gaze shifts back to Parker, a small smile tugging at his lips. “What book did you bring tonight?”
His tone is playful.
Familiar.
What the fuck.
“What?” Parker plays at innocence. “I’ve never brought a book anywhere with me in my whole life.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“I’m a social butterfly. Always talking to everyone. Definitely never spotted anywhere with my head in a book to avoid peopling.”
“Of course,” he teases. “I must have mistaken you for somebody else.”
I’m boiling in my own skin at the way she jokes around with this chump like I’m not even fucking here.
Gemma must have noticed something was off—do I look confused? I feel fucking homicidal—because she steps closer and leans in to fill me in. “Last time we were here, we ran into some of your father’s clients and got caught up, so Parker snuck off and—”
“I don’t care,” I snap without even meaning to.
Without fucking thought, and I regret it an instant later because I do care. I want to know what I missed at the dinner I didn’t come to. I want to know every exchange that’s ever taken place between Parker and this stupid asshole.
The sound of my voice shatters Parker’s focus and she seems to remember I’m here this time.
Her smile dies, and for the merest sliver of a second, I feel like an asshole for killing it.
But all I have to do is look at Aladdin on my way by and that feeling dissipates because his appreciative gaze is glued to her ass.