The Anchor (34 page)

Why is it that on one of the scariest and saddest days of my life, having sex with Parker is what will be singed in my brain forever? The feeling of love, acceptance, and desire takes over me. He’s behind me, slowly pulling in and out of me in a passionate, maddening rhythm, whispering everything I need to hear right now.

“I want you. I always want you. I always think about you,” he growls in my ear. Every word, every breath, fills me with an overwhelming need for this man. “Don’t ever push me away, Nikki. Don’t fight me, don’t fight us.”

I reach my hand back and thread my fingers in his hair. I never want to be without him. I can’t be. He was right when he said he’d anchor me; hold me steady. He does. And if he leaves, if he’s not with me, I know I’ll always be afloat in life. “Parker . . . ah . . .” And I moan. “I won’t, baby,” I promise. Tears form in my eyes. “I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

His hand comes up and grabs my hair, pulling it away from my neck and face. “I won’t leave you, Nik. I belong to you now. Swear to me you’ll fight for us and mean it.” He thrusts hard and I shriek, tears rolling down my cheeks. There is so much love, ecstasy, and fear rolled into this moment. I’m overwhelmed with emotion.

“I swear, Parker. Please, baby, just . . .”

He pulls out and thrusts hard again, making me moan louder. “Just what?” he grits out, holding my hair firmly so that my head is arched back against him.

“Just fuck me. Make me feel good.”

He growls and pulls out and before I know it, I’m on all fours with him pushing his erection back inside me. “Hard, Parker,” I instruct him.

Then he takes me away. Our skin smacking together, sweat trickling down my back, my moans, his grunts—it’s pure abandoned ecstasy. When I come, my arms lose their strength and I fall face-first on the bed, ass in the air as Parker pounds relentlessly inside me. A moment later, his grip on my hips tightens and he tenses, yelling, “Fuck,” as he comes.

He collapses beside me, his breathing labored, his hard body as sweaty as mine. Even though he’s exhausted, he rubs my back gently as his chest rises and falls. After a moment, I get up and go to the bathroom to clean up. When I return, neither of us say a word. We know what the other one is thinking and feeling. There’s no need. Climbing in bed, I curl up against him. Parker just gave me what I needed. He helped me forget for a moment about the cloud hanging over us, and now it’s my turn to return the favor.

With my head resting on his chest, his heart pounding in my ear, I tell him, “Sleep, baby.”

And after a few moments, his breathing slows and he lets out a tiny snore that makes me smile. “Looks like it’ll be a long night for us, little guy,” I whisper to our child.

When I wake up the next morning the smell of coffee and bacon wafts in the air and my stomach grumbles. I slowly climb out of bed, having barely slept at all, and go use the bathroom before meeting Parker in the kitchen. Had I known Edie and John would be there as well I might’ve put something on other than Parker’s dress shirt.

As soon as Edie sees me she flies across the room and hugs me tightly. “I guess Parker told you,” I mumble, my voice still hoarse with sleep.

She pulls away and leads me to the kitchen table, forcing me to sit. “He came to the house to grab clothes this morning and I nearly tackled him and forced him to tell me what the sex of the baby is.”

“Edie can be quite persistent,” John adds from behind his coffee mug.

“She threatened to castrate me,” Parker mentions defensively. “Given her expertise in the field, I wasn’t taking any chances.”

“Well . . .” I sigh and try to force a smile. I look at Parker and feel that he’s watching me. When our eyes lock, an understanding passes between us. Something clicked last night. Something fell into place. He’s promised many times to keep me grounded, to take care of us. Last night is the first time I believed him. Last night I let all the walls fall and put my faith in him. He can’t control everything. He can’t fix our child if something is in fact wrong with him. But he’ll ride the storm and keep us from sinking no matter what. “It’s a boy.” My hand moves to my belly and I pat it gently a few times. The fear looming over us knots up in my throat and I fight the urge to cry.

Edie’s eyes grow teary and she squeezes my hand. “A little boy, Nik. I wish Daddy Bud were here.”

Now I’m crying.

“Me too,” I whimper.

“I’m thinking Parker Jr.,” Parker says, with a wide grin, and Edie and I chuckle through our tears.

“You called that one,” Edie points out, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand as she picks up her coffee mug and heads back to the pot.

We all have breakfast together, and surprisingly, Parker and I manage to laugh a little. Our best friends came to the rescue this morning. But when it’s time for them to leave, the dread sets in again.

“You need to go to work today,” Parker tells me after they leave. I’m at the sink washing dishes when he wraps his arms around my waist and puts his hands on my bump.

“I was thinking about staying home today.”

“No,” he answers immediately. “If you stay home, you’ll wallow in worry all day long. We don’t know anything for sure yet. Let’s keep busy. It’ll make waiting for the results go by faster.”

I grab the dish towel that’s next to the sink and dry my hands before turning to face him. His dark eyes meet mine and I reach up and cup his cheek. “Thank you.”

He smirks. “For what?”

“For not giving up on me. On us.”

Leaning down, he kisses me softly. “Can I move in with you?”

I smile against his lips. “I don’t know if we’re ready for that,” I tease. “These things should happen in a certain order.”

Pulling back, he narrows his eyes at me. “What order is that?”

“Dating, then maybe sex, a little more dating and sex, then maybe living together, then marriage, then babies, and so on.”

“Hmm. We definitely did a few things out of order,” he chuckles.

Straightening his tie, I gaze up at him and say, “You belong with me, by me, and in my bed. I love you, Parker. Come home.”

His features go soft as his dark eyes gaze lovingly upon me. Then he whispers, “Fucking beautiful.”

I won’t admit it to him because his head is already so big, inflated with ego, but Parker was right. Coming to the office helps me keep my mind focused on work. I’m alone in my shop, and if anyone saw me or heard me they’d think I was a mad lady talking to myself, but I talk to our little guy all day.

“I’m going to teach you how to play the piano and maybe the violin, if you want to learn. I kind of hated it,” I laugh. “Everything is going to be okay, little guy. It has to be.”

Later on, I’m setting up a display case with my crowns, sashes, and photos of me from my pageants throughout the years and I grin. I’m holding a framed photo of when I was crowned Miss Holly Springs, and gazing at a smiling me. I looked great. My body was thin and I looked killer in the dress Pearl made for me. It was an amazing day; the kind of day I’ve been fixated on since I found out I was pregnant. I thought losing this meant losing everything. But now it all seems so unimportant.

“You know, little guy, you can leave me as one giant stretch mark if you just come into this world healthy. Just please be okay,” I beg him softly. A strong jolt in my lower belly makes me lurch a little. For the last few weeks I’ve felt things, but it’s never been strong enough for me to discern if it was the baby moving or just . . . well, gas. But this time, I have no doubt. I just felt my son kick for the first time. I’m laughing as I run to my phone, which I left on my folding table desk.

I just felt him kick!
I text Parker.

“Thanks for making me smile, little guy,” I tell my son after setting my phone down, before getting back to work and feeling a little brighter.

Parker calls me later and asks me for every little detail about the kick, which I laugh at because . . . what details can I give? He tells me he’s stuck at his job working late, meeting some clients who couldn’t come in until after work hours. So around five I decide to take him dinner. If he’s working late, he needs to eat. I swing by a fast food joint near his office and grab us both some dinner. I figure the baby deserves some guilty pleasure food after the week we’ve had. The mouthwatering burger I bought for me to eat is totally for him. I’m loving that way.

Parker’s office building is about four floors in height; his firm is on the top floor. I ride the elevator up, holding his food, wondering if I should have called first. His clients might be in with him. Who will I give this food to?

When I reach the fourth floor, I step off and look around. The whole floor is eerily quiet, everyone having gone home for the evening. I have no idea where his office is so I go left. There’s a light on in one of the offices at the end of the hall and I can make out voices. I’m halfway to the office when Parker exits it, followed by a very pretty woman dressed to kill in a fitted black dress with black pumps. Her dark hair is twisted up and she has long, black lashes. They almost seem fake, but I can tell they’re not. I’ve worn fake lashes a few times in my day. He’s holding his jacket and briefcase but she seems to be standing in front of him, keeping him in place.