AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The Douglas nepo baby and giving up my career part, anyway. As for getting married and starting a family, I definitely want that. On myownterms. With a man I choose.
“You remember Aaron Wagner?” Dad goes on, like I didn’t respond at all.
“Sure. Friend of your friends. Smug smile and even smugger attitude. Hard to forget the dinner with him and his parents. Even if I’d like to.”
“Parker James.”
“Using my middle name doesn’t make me comply,” I say, my attention dragged down to the ice where the guys are practicing a new play with Logan. Even though they’re all geared up to the point of being almost unrecognizable from up here, I could pick out his broad build and his skating stride in a room with a hundred hockey players.
“I gave Aaron your number. The one he had must have been wrong. He said it went to some business.”
It sure did: Franco’s Birthday Clowns. Because after the dinner with my parents and the Wagners, that’s the number I gave him.
It’s what Aaron deserves. Clowns.
The Wagners are important to my dad, but I forget why and frankly, I don’t care. The way Aaron kept incessantly hitting on me while staring at my chest—which, if I’m being totally honest, isn’t all that much to write home about—tempted me to poke him in the eye with one of the breadsticks.
The only reason I refrained was because the breadsticks were fantastic. Aaron Wagner isn’t even worth a good breadstick to the eye.
“Like I said, Dad, I don’t need you to set me up with someone.” Especially not Aaron.
“It’s already done,” he says.
“No,” I say. “It really isn’t.” And then, I start down a stupid and dangerous path—one paved with lies. “I have a date.”
There’s a pause where Dad takes in my words. Regrouping, probably. Planning his countermeasures.
“Who are you bringing?” he demands.
“It doesn’t matter who,” I say, trying to scramble for some idea of who I can name. More than that, who I could actuallybring. Because I cannot tell my father I have a date and then show up alone. “I’m not going with Aaron. Or any other son of some important business partner.”
I’m distracted by movement on the ice. Eli has spotted me up here and is waving with his puppy-like enthusiasm. Van stops beside him and blows me a kiss. I wave back, grinning. Such goofballs.
When Logan looks up, skating the periphery of the rink, my stomach does a little shimmy. Even from afar, his attention affects me.
Dad’s voice jerks me back into the unpleasant conversation I’m currently having. “How do I know you haven’t made up some fictional date just to get out of going with Aaron?”
My father is a smart man. The track record of his business is a testament to his acumen. But it’s scary—almost Javi-level scary—how quickly Dad figured out my game.
“Of course I didn’t make someone up,” I lie, my gaze pulled again to Logan. He’s stopped by the goal, his head tilted back, regarding me. He doesn’t wave, but the little head nod I get is somehow better.
Because it’shim. And when it comes to Logan, even the smallest scrap of attention has always felt like a five-course meal prepared by a Michelin-starred chef.
“Then give me a name,” my father demands. “Your mother needs it for the guest list.”
And my mouth, clearly faster at processing and more concerned with sticking it to Dad than with the consequences, says a name it really, really shouldn’t.
“I’m bringing Logan Barnes.”
CHAPTER4
Parker
My stupid parkingspace might be overpriced, but the ten-minute walk from the lot to my apartment calms me down. Every time. Though today, admittedly, the charming vibe of the historic downtown isn’t working its usual magic. At least, not on me. The handfuls of tourists strolling the streets seem to be enjoying it just fine.
Probably because they don’t have Logan Barnes on the brain.
Tucked out of the way in the Appalachian Mountains between Asheville and Knoxville, Harvest Hollow has become quite the vacation destination. Especially in fall.
