See part 1 ("Another Woman") for disclaimer.
Author's Note: To any practitioners of yoga out there, please excuse Miss Parker's remarks. They are intended to reflect what *her* attitude - as someone completely ignorant of the practice - would be and do not reflect the author's views of this respected, ancient discipline. I myself practice yoga and find it very rewarding, although I wouldn't mind trying Parker's method of relaxation!
Another Author's Note: The rating of this fic (PG-13 currently) will likely go up with the next installment. In fact, I'm not entirely sure that it shouldn't have gone up with this one. There's nothing graphic here, but if the mere suggestion of responsible sex between consenting adults sends you running for the hills then I recommend that you go elsewhere. Consider yourself duly notified.
And Let's Make It Three: Apparently, it's not only my German that needs help. It's only one word, but it's an important one, so I'm reposting this. Thanks, D!
The Friendship Cycle Six: The Mountain's Out
By Ginger
The Cloud Room
Camlin Hotel, Seattle
"Smile," the bartender cheerfully advised as he placed a second drink in front of Parker. "It's a beautiful summer day and the mountain's out."
"How nice for the mountain," she replied icily. Shoving aside the glass she'd just emptied, she took a sip of her fresh drink.
The bartender glanced at Broots, who simply shrugged and took a sip from the beer he'd been nursing for twenty minutes. After what he deemed a suitable interval, he commented tentatively,
"I... I guess it really was a rookie mistake on our part, to allow Jarod to lure us into the middle of the International Fountain like that."
Parker didn't respond as she stared off into the distance, as if gazing into an unseen horizon. He continued,
"We're both pretty aware of our surroundings most of the time. I mean, we have to be. I can't believe I missed the water jets embedded in the concrete, not to mention all the kids hanging around in bathing suits."
She expelled a deep breath and nodded slowly as she turned the sweating rock glass in her hands. Broots went on,
"I guess that suit is probably ruined, not to mention your shoes. Fortunately, my clothing is pretty durable."
Parker turned to him, glanced down at his attire, raised an eyebrow, and faced forward again then took another sip from her drink. At least she's going a little slower on the second one, Broots noted with some relief. Silence reigned for a few beats before he proceeded softly,
"That's not it, is it? That's not what's bothering you. Something's been bothering you for weeks. If there's something... some kind of trouble... anything I can help you with..."
"Thank you, Broots," she interrupted, turning to him with a small but genuinely warm smile. "I've just been feeling a little world weary lately, that's all. And, you're right, we played right into Rat Boy's hands this morning and, you're right, it really was a rookie mistake. But we won't let that juvenile pain-in-the-ass do it to us again, will we?"
"No, Miss P., we won't," Broots replied as he returned her smile.
"Excuse me," a cocktail waitress interrupted. "You are Miss Parker, aren't you?"
"Who wants to know?" Parker responded, turning to give her a vaguely contemptuous look.
"I have something for you," the young woman stated, ignoring her tone and facial expression and handing her a small envelope. "Have a nice day," the waitress tacked on with faux sweetness then stepped quickly away from them.
Parker just stared at the envelope for a time, running her fingers lightly over it. She appeared to be a million miles away.
"Aren't you going to, you know..." Broots gently prodded as he nodded at the item in her hands.
Parker did not answer but slid off her stool and, slipping the envelope into her pocket, turned to him and announced,
"You know, Broots, the bartender is right. It's still early, it's a beautiful day, and I think you've earned a little R&R. Why don't you head down to the Market and watch the guys throw fish around. I hear there's a candy store near there that specializes in outrageous candied apples. You can have some shipped home for Debbie. Visit the Space Needle, check out the first 'Starbucks,' whatever."
"Huh?" He looked utterly stupified.
"I'll meet you in the lobby at 7:00 a.m. sharp. Don't make me wait." With that she headed out of the bar.
"But, Miss P..." Broots called after her.
Just before she turned the corner to head for the elevator, Parker called back over her shoulder, "You heard the man: the mountain's out! For crying out loud, Broots, live a little!"
Then she was gone.
"Live a little?" He muttered under his breath as he turned to stare perplexedly at his half-finished, warming microbrew.
"That lady," the bartender inquired in a confidential tone. "Is she your boss or something?"
"Something," Broots responded wearily without looking up.
"Must be stressful work you do," the bartender observed casually in that way those in his profession have of showing compassion without prying.
"You have no idea," Broots remarked distractedly then brightened. Looking up he asked,
"Hey, what's this I hear about outrageous candied applies?"
* * * *
"Well, there it is," Parker whispered as she stood on the deck of the ferry. Leaning against the railing, she gazed south over the deep blue water of Puget Sound toward the peak towering in the distance. Everything glittered in the late afternoon sunlight on a near-perfect summer day as she joined throngs of people on their weekday commute home.
Mt. Rainier is a volcano, she thought wryly, and it is *not* extinct. One good eruption and all these healthy looking people with their coffee stands, cutting edge techie jobs, and cool urban lifestyles would be toast - the good life reduced to a pile of smoldering ash in the blink of an eye.
*Someday you'll blow it - because people like you always do - and then you'll know what it's like to lose him.*
Depending on her mood, which pretty much changed by the minute, she'd been both longing for and dreading this: the day when she'd see him again. It had been nearly three weeks since her encounter with Zoe, and almost a month since she and Jarod had spent the better part of a weekend sequestered in her house. It was already the end of July. Summer was rolling by at pretty fair clip: the summer of her discontent.
She kept coming back to it because there really was no way around it: Zoe had a damned good point. Not that Parker had any intention of doing something ridiculous like hurling herself at Jarod's feet to beg his forgiveness on behalf of herself, her family, or the Centre. As far as she was concerned it wasn't her place to apologize on anyone's behalf, and she wasn't seeking his forgiveness any more than he appeared to be seeking her remorse. The dynamics of their relationship were far more complex. There was the fundamental understanding of each other that had always been there, the thin thread of trust that somehow over the years had strengthened to heavy gauge rope, and the chemistry - powerful, exciting, and even a little frightening.
On the other hand, given their totally fucked up history it also seemed ludicrous to her that they could simply ease into a healthy, if by necessity illicit, relationship. She also couldn't help but question her own motives. Maybe this was, in fact, at least partly about penance. Perhaps it would be her act of contrition to offer something she knew he coveted: her body. Toss in the fact that if they were ever found out she'd likely end up in Renewal Wing, or worse, and you had all the ingredients for a perfect martyrdom. Maybe she was her mother's daughter after all.
Parker turned away from the scenery and wrapped her arms tightly around her waist. Her stomach pinched. Such bitter, cynical thoughts had plagued her ever since her conversation with Zoe, particularly on quiet evenings when she was alone. Consequently, her scotch consumption had increased significantly and sometimes approached levels not reached since the days just after Tommy's death.
The ferry's horn blew and she looked up to see that it was just about to dock. She was seized by a brief, but nonetheless unpleasant, wave of panic and mused that it was perhaps her sanity she should be questioning. She could simply remain at the terminal and take the next ferry back to Seattle. Then she could go back to the hotel, order room service, and get rip-roaring drunk.
That was no good, Parker concluded as she reached back to grab the railing, steadying herself against the jolt as the ferry docked. Jarod would only come to her later and demand to know why she had stood him up. He'd look wounded and vulnerable and she would feel his hurt feelings as though they were her own. And she'd have no choice but to ease his pain if only to ease her own so the end result would ultimately be the same. The gangplank was lowered and she ambled off the ferry with everyone else, looking as they did, like it was something she did everyday.
The only instruction contained in the note was to take the 5:30 ferry to Bainbridge Island, so Parker stood at the edge of the parking lot and surveyed the scene as commuters either climbed into their own cars and drove off or slipped into the passenger seats of waiting vehicles. She did her best not to look anxious, adopting the air of someone casually waiting to meet a friend. As the lot began to thin she spotted a car in the far corner and walked briskly toward it.
It was a Boxter, newer than hers, in metallic midnight blue. The windows were heavily tinted so she couldn't make out the features of the figure behind the wheel. But then, she didn't need to. Pulling open the passenger door, she leaned in and glanced over the top of her sunglasses at the driver, who returned her gaze over the top of his sunglasses.
"'Boxter Red' interior," she observed. "Very nice."
"I thought you'd like it. Once we're on the road, away from all these people, we can switch places if you like. Get in."
As soon as Parker had her door closed Jarod leaned over to place a tender, slightly lingering kiss to her lips - one that conveyed affection but not entitlement. It was very sweet but did nothing to ease her pinching stomach. If anything, it pinched more.
"Hi," he whispered.
"Hi," she whispered back then turned to look out the window.
Leaning back into his own seat, a smiling Jarod started the engine and they were off.
* * * *
"Would it be impolite to ask what we're doing at a plant nursery?" Parker inquired as she followed Jarod up a tree-lined path.
"The weather's so beautiful I thought it would be nice to eat outdoors. Since it probably isn't a good idea to be seen together at one of the restaurants downtown, I needed a Plan B. The gardens closed at 5:30 so we have the place to ourselves."
"Place? What place?" she muttered. It dawned on her that she was on a date with Jarod and that realization left her feeling awkward and self-conscious, which in itself irritated her slightly.
They rounded a bend and a small, attractive wooden building came into view. It was surrounded by a deck with chairs and umbrella-topped tables. Jarod turned to face her, grinned, and stretched out his hand in a grandiose gesture.
"Welcome to the Rose Cafe."
"Are we breaking and entering?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and folding her arms at her chest.
Rolling his eyes, he replied, "Of course not," then reached for Parker's hand and tugged her up the steps to the wooden deck as he explained, "I once helped out a guy, a television cameraman who was injured in a gang shooting. I gave Ken a call when I got to town, explained my predicament..."
"Explained?" Parker interjected warily and stopped dead in her tracks.
"I didn't go into specifics. I just said I'd like to find a quiet, private spot to take a special friend to dinner." He turned to look knowingly at her. "I haven't managed to stay free for five years by being careless. C'mon," he coaxed, pulling her arm. She sighed and allowed him to drag her across the deck to a counter over which the food must be served during business hours as he continued, "So Ken brought me out here to meet his uncle Junkoh, who runs this place with his wife, Chris."
Jarod finally released her hand and, disappearing behind the counter for a moment, returned with a stool, set it down, and literally lifted Parker onto it. He then turned the swivel seat so that she would face the counter before stepping back behind it and setting to work on something that appeared to relate to dinner. Parker said nothing but just stared at him, amused, but only faintly because that was all she could muster. All the while, he went on,
"They're very nice people; they were generous enough to arrange for the staff here to prepare a delcious meal for us - everything they make is good and, take my word for it, I've tried just about everything - so you won't even have to eat my cooking."
"Well that's a relief," she remarked, trying to sound nonchalant even though she still hadn't managed to will herself to relax.
"Indeed it is," he chirped. He, on the other hand, didn't appear at all tense. Happy as a big, slobbering puppy pretty much nailed it.
"Oh, and I'm sorry about earlier today," he offered as he began scooping things out of containers and onto plates.
Parker shrugged. In truth, she'd forgotten all about it. "Probably just as well. We need to keep up appearances and it's been ages since you ruined an article of my clothing."
"Awww, it takes all the fun out of it if you're going to be gracious about it," he teased.
She didn't reply because she couldn't think of anything to say. Parker glanced down at her hands, folded tightly and resting on the countertop. She could feel Jarod watching her, studying her, reading her. She heard him emit a heavy sigh, set down a kitchen implement, and walk around the counter. Then she felt his hands on her hips and found herself spinning around again to face him.
Gazing intently into her eyes, he began softly, "What Zoe said to you..." In response to her expression, which made it quite clear that she had no intention of going there, he added, "Whatever it was, you need to remember that she's angry and hurt. You also need to remember that you're not the one who hurt her. I am, and I'm the one who has to live with it. Of course, the whole mess *could* have been avoided if you'd started being nice to me sooner," he tacked on with a smile.
Parker struggled to keep a grudging smile from appearing. Failing, she looked away from him and muttered, "I've always hated it when you do that."
Grasping her by the chin, Jarod tilted her face toward his and asked, "Hate when I do what?"
"Know what I'm thinking exactly when I'm thinking it, sometimes before."
With a cheeky smile he responded, "What can I say; for a while there it was necessary for my survival. You're a heck of a lot tougher than I am so I had to be crafty."
"Damn right I am and you'd do well to remember that."
"Yes, ma'am," he whispered then wrapped his arms around her, pulled her to him, and kissed her deeply. It was the kind of kiss that one had no choice but surrender to, so she did. The tension seeped from her body as she wrapped her arms around his neck and curled her legs around his to hook her ankles behind his knees. She kissed him back in earnest.
* * * *
"Dessert?" Jarod offered hopefully.
"No thank you. I'm about ready to burst as it is." To his poorly concealed look of disappointment, Parker added with a smile, "But you go ahead, please."
He hopped up from the table and disappeared behind the counter, returning with a gooey chocolate monstrosity. He set it down and, with an unholy gleam in his eye, retook his seat.
"How old are you?" she teased.
He shoveled in a forkful, shrugged, and mumbled, "Good question," through a mouthful of chocolate.
Parker slid back in her chair and sipped at her wine as she watched Jarod gleefully inhale an enormous piece of cake. Where does he put it, she wondered as her eyes traveled the expanse of his broad, muscled chest. When he was finished he emitted a deep groan of satisfaction and flopped back in his chair, looking sated and content. If he opens his belt and undoes the button to his pants I'm leaving, she mused with a smirk.
"It's always nice to see you out of your work clothes," he observed. "You look great."
"Yeah, well, a pair of faded jeans and a pink cotton sweater don't carry much intimidation factor," she replied.
"Oh, I don't know about that. Someone might be inclined to find it *more* intimidating because it's clearly not a case of fancy tailoring or makeup. You really *are* that gorgeous."
"I see we've entered the shameless flattery portion of the evening," Parker remarked with a grin, adding, "And if you think I'm intimidating out of my work clothes..." She leaned forward slightly and purred, "You should see me out of *these* clothes."
His face erupting in a wide grin, Jarod literally launched from his seat and grabbed her and, for a moment or two, Parker thought he might take her up on the offer then and there. Instead, he pulled her into his arms and spun around and around on the wooden deck, deftly avoiding the tables and chairs scattered about the place.
"What are you doing, you lunatic?" she yelped as she was literally swept off her feet.
"Oops, how forgetful of me!" he said as he backed his way toward the counter without loosening his death grip on her and, therefore, leaving her no choice but to stumble along with him.
Jarod leaned back over the counter, forcing Parker to topple onto him helplessly. Smirking, he hesitated a moment and shot her one of his looks then flipped a switch and, when music began to play, propelled them both into a standing position and resumed moving about the deck.
"I realize you haven't been out in the world all that long, monkeyboy, but it *is* customary to *ask* a woman if she wants to dance rather than grabbing and molesting her," she chided playfully.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware that I had molested you because, frankly, I'd have thought it would be a lot more interesting..." He grinned mischievously at her. "And fun."
* * * *
"Mmmm... Bebel Gilberto," Parker purred softly as she rocked slowly in Jarod's arms. The sun rested low on the horizon; they had been dancing for almost an hour.
"You're familiar with her?" he whispered into her hair.
She nodded against him and said, "I love Brazilian music."
"Ever been?" he asked.
"Once... just a quick jaunt to Rio with friends... ages ago when I was young and spontaneous. I've always wanted to go back though and explore, you know, really see the country. Maybe someday..." She sighed and repeated, "Maybe someday."
Smiling wistfully, Jarod tightened his arms around her and abruptly changed the subject.
"I'm staying nearby."
"Hmmm?" was her only response.
"In a house... a small house, but it's very nice. The owners are away for the summer."
"Mmm-hmm..."
"It's a lot nicer than my usual accommodations. It's got a loft... and a fireplace."
"Sounds nice," Parker remarked lazily. There was a moment or two of silence and then,
"Well?"
"Well what?" she inquired, smiling against his shoulder.
"Would you like to see it?"
* * * *
*Who needs yoga?*
Sprawled on her stomach on the spacious, comfortable bed, Parker replayed a recent conversation with Sydney in which he had recommended yoga as an effective stress reliever. She had laughed out loud and asked him to picture her surrounded by a bunch of granola-crunching peaceniks in leotards. Then it had been his turn to chuckle.
She'd just discovered an alternative form of stress relief. Her body hummed with contentment and she was disinclined to move a muscle, only something occurred to her compelling her to inquire,
"What time is the last ferry back to Seattle? I'll need to be on it."
Jarod turned his head to glance at the clock on the beside table and replied, "It left eight minutes ago."
Lifting her head off the pillow, she said, "Then I'll have to take the bridge and you'll have to *acquire* another vehicle. I don't much care for the idea of risking being seen together in the city and I *have* to meet Broots in the hotel lobby at 7:00 a.m. sharp. If I'm not there on time and he starts looking for me then the sweepers we brought along will start to get..."
"It's okay, relax," he advised softly as he turned completely onto his side to face her then propped his head up on one elbow.
Running the tips of his fingers gently down the center of her spine, he continued, "I have every intention of getting you to the terminal in time to catch the first ferry. It leaves at 4:45 and that should get you back to town in plenty of time to dress, pack, and meet Broots."
She lowered her head to the pillow then smiled languorously up at him and remarked, "Sounds like you had this all planned out. Mighty sure of yourself, aren't you, Wonderboy?"
"Well, I find it always pays to hope for the best and prepare for the worst," he responded with a grin.
"And which does this constitute?" she asked with a playful gleam in her eye.
"That's a very good question, Miss Parker. I don't think I have enough information to answer at this time but I do plan to explore the matter further."
And explore he did, his hand wandering to the small of her back where he teased the sensitive flesh with his fingertips. Every cell in her body jumped to attention as if to say, "Again? Well, okay, if you insist!"
Jarod's hand wandered lower to cup and gently squeeze one of her buttocks then he sat up and climbed over her body to straddle her thighs with his knees. He leaned forward and began placing the most exquisite little kisses to the back of her neck, shoulders, and as much of her back as he could reach. Parker reveled in this attention for quite a while until, with a sigh, she reached for the open box on the bedside table, removing yet another foil packet and handing it back to him.
"Why, thank you, Miss Parker," Jarod murmured seductively.
"Anytime, buddy... mmm... anytime."
# # # #
Tbc... Now that they've started, I very much doubt they'll want to stop!
Author's Note: To any practitioners of yoga out there, please excuse Miss Parker's remarks. They are intended to reflect what *her* attitude - as someone completely ignorant of the practice - would be and do not reflect the author's views of this respected, ancient discipline. I myself practice yoga and find it very rewarding, although I wouldn't mind trying Parker's method of relaxation!
Another Author's Note: The rating of this fic (PG-13 currently) will likely go up with the next installment. In fact, I'm not entirely sure that it shouldn't have gone up with this one. There's nothing graphic here, but if the mere suggestion of responsible sex between consenting adults sends you running for the hills then I recommend that you go elsewhere. Consider yourself duly notified.
And Let's Make It Three: Apparently, it's not only my German that needs help. It's only one word, but it's an important one, so I'm reposting this. Thanks, D!
The Friendship Cycle Six: The Mountain's Out
By Ginger
The Cloud Room
Camlin Hotel, Seattle
"Smile," the bartender cheerfully advised as he placed a second drink in front of Parker. "It's a beautiful summer day and the mountain's out."
"How nice for the mountain," she replied icily. Shoving aside the glass she'd just emptied, she took a sip of her fresh drink.
The bartender glanced at Broots, who simply shrugged and took a sip from the beer he'd been nursing for twenty minutes. After what he deemed a suitable interval, he commented tentatively,
"I... I guess it really was a rookie mistake on our part, to allow Jarod to lure us into the middle of the International Fountain like that."
Parker didn't respond as she stared off into the distance, as if gazing into an unseen horizon. He continued,
"We're both pretty aware of our surroundings most of the time. I mean, we have to be. I can't believe I missed the water jets embedded in the concrete, not to mention all the kids hanging around in bathing suits."
She expelled a deep breath and nodded slowly as she turned the sweating rock glass in her hands. Broots went on,
"I guess that suit is probably ruined, not to mention your shoes. Fortunately, my clothing is pretty durable."
Parker turned to him, glanced down at his attire, raised an eyebrow, and faced forward again then took another sip from her drink. At least she's going a little slower on the second one, Broots noted with some relief. Silence reigned for a few beats before he proceeded softly,
"That's not it, is it? That's not what's bothering you. Something's been bothering you for weeks. If there's something... some kind of trouble... anything I can help you with..."
"Thank you, Broots," she interrupted, turning to him with a small but genuinely warm smile. "I've just been feeling a little world weary lately, that's all. And, you're right, we played right into Rat Boy's hands this morning and, you're right, it really was a rookie mistake. But we won't let that juvenile pain-in-the-ass do it to us again, will we?"
"No, Miss P., we won't," Broots replied as he returned her smile.
"Excuse me," a cocktail waitress interrupted. "You are Miss Parker, aren't you?"
"Who wants to know?" Parker responded, turning to give her a vaguely contemptuous look.
"I have something for you," the young woman stated, ignoring her tone and facial expression and handing her a small envelope. "Have a nice day," the waitress tacked on with faux sweetness then stepped quickly away from them.
Parker just stared at the envelope for a time, running her fingers lightly over it. She appeared to be a million miles away.
"Aren't you going to, you know..." Broots gently prodded as he nodded at the item in her hands.
Parker did not answer but slid off her stool and, slipping the envelope into her pocket, turned to him and announced,
"You know, Broots, the bartender is right. It's still early, it's a beautiful day, and I think you've earned a little R&R. Why don't you head down to the Market and watch the guys throw fish around. I hear there's a candy store near there that specializes in outrageous candied apples. You can have some shipped home for Debbie. Visit the Space Needle, check out the first 'Starbucks,' whatever."
"Huh?" He looked utterly stupified.
"I'll meet you in the lobby at 7:00 a.m. sharp. Don't make me wait." With that she headed out of the bar.
"But, Miss P..." Broots called after her.
Just before she turned the corner to head for the elevator, Parker called back over her shoulder, "You heard the man: the mountain's out! For crying out loud, Broots, live a little!"
Then she was gone.
"Live a little?" He muttered under his breath as he turned to stare perplexedly at his half-finished, warming microbrew.
"That lady," the bartender inquired in a confidential tone. "Is she your boss or something?"
"Something," Broots responded wearily without looking up.
"Must be stressful work you do," the bartender observed casually in that way those in his profession have of showing compassion without prying.
"You have no idea," Broots remarked distractedly then brightened. Looking up he asked,
"Hey, what's this I hear about outrageous candied applies?"
* * * *
"Well, there it is," Parker whispered as she stood on the deck of the ferry. Leaning against the railing, she gazed south over the deep blue water of Puget Sound toward the peak towering in the distance. Everything glittered in the late afternoon sunlight on a near-perfect summer day as she joined throngs of people on their weekday commute home.
Mt. Rainier is a volcano, she thought wryly, and it is *not* extinct. One good eruption and all these healthy looking people with their coffee stands, cutting edge techie jobs, and cool urban lifestyles would be toast - the good life reduced to a pile of smoldering ash in the blink of an eye.
*Someday you'll blow it - because people like you always do - and then you'll know what it's like to lose him.*
Depending on her mood, which pretty much changed by the minute, she'd been both longing for and dreading this: the day when she'd see him again. It had been nearly three weeks since her encounter with Zoe, and almost a month since she and Jarod had spent the better part of a weekend sequestered in her house. It was already the end of July. Summer was rolling by at pretty fair clip: the summer of her discontent.
She kept coming back to it because there really was no way around it: Zoe had a damned good point. Not that Parker had any intention of doing something ridiculous like hurling herself at Jarod's feet to beg his forgiveness on behalf of herself, her family, or the Centre. As far as she was concerned it wasn't her place to apologize on anyone's behalf, and she wasn't seeking his forgiveness any more than he appeared to be seeking her remorse. The dynamics of their relationship were far more complex. There was the fundamental understanding of each other that had always been there, the thin thread of trust that somehow over the years had strengthened to heavy gauge rope, and the chemistry - powerful, exciting, and even a little frightening.
On the other hand, given their totally fucked up history it also seemed ludicrous to her that they could simply ease into a healthy, if by necessity illicit, relationship. She also couldn't help but question her own motives. Maybe this was, in fact, at least partly about penance. Perhaps it would be her act of contrition to offer something she knew he coveted: her body. Toss in the fact that if they were ever found out she'd likely end up in Renewal Wing, or worse, and you had all the ingredients for a perfect martyrdom. Maybe she was her mother's daughter after all.
Parker turned away from the scenery and wrapped her arms tightly around her waist. Her stomach pinched. Such bitter, cynical thoughts had plagued her ever since her conversation with Zoe, particularly on quiet evenings when she was alone. Consequently, her scotch consumption had increased significantly and sometimes approached levels not reached since the days just after Tommy's death.
The ferry's horn blew and she looked up to see that it was just about to dock. She was seized by a brief, but nonetheless unpleasant, wave of panic and mused that it was perhaps her sanity she should be questioning. She could simply remain at the terminal and take the next ferry back to Seattle. Then she could go back to the hotel, order room service, and get rip-roaring drunk.
That was no good, Parker concluded as she reached back to grab the railing, steadying herself against the jolt as the ferry docked. Jarod would only come to her later and demand to know why she had stood him up. He'd look wounded and vulnerable and she would feel his hurt feelings as though they were her own. And she'd have no choice but to ease his pain if only to ease her own so the end result would ultimately be the same. The gangplank was lowered and she ambled off the ferry with everyone else, looking as they did, like it was something she did everyday.
The only instruction contained in the note was to take the 5:30 ferry to Bainbridge Island, so Parker stood at the edge of the parking lot and surveyed the scene as commuters either climbed into their own cars and drove off or slipped into the passenger seats of waiting vehicles. She did her best not to look anxious, adopting the air of someone casually waiting to meet a friend. As the lot began to thin she spotted a car in the far corner and walked briskly toward it.
It was a Boxter, newer than hers, in metallic midnight blue. The windows were heavily tinted so she couldn't make out the features of the figure behind the wheel. But then, she didn't need to. Pulling open the passenger door, she leaned in and glanced over the top of her sunglasses at the driver, who returned her gaze over the top of his sunglasses.
"'Boxter Red' interior," she observed. "Very nice."
"I thought you'd like it. Once we're on the road, away from all these people, we can switch places if you like. Get in."
As soon as Parker had her door closed Jarod leaned over to place a tender, slightly lingering kiss to her lips - one that conveyed affection but not entitlement. It was very sweet but did nothing to ease her pinching stomach. If anything, it pinched more.
"Hi," he whispered.
"Hi," she whispered back then turned to look out the window.
Leaning back into his own seat, a smiling Jarod started the engine and they were off.
* * * *
"Would it be impolite to ask what we're doing at a plant nursery?" Parker inquired as she followed Jarod up a tree-lined path.
"The weather's so beautiful I thought it would be nice to eat outdoors. Since it probably isn't a good idea to be seen together at one of the restaurants downtown, I needed a Plan B. The gardens closed at 5:30 so we have the place to ourselves."
"Place? What place?" she muttered. It dawned on her that she was on a date with Jarod and that realization left her feeling awkward and self-conscious, which in itself irritated her slightly.
They rounded a bend and a small, attractive wooden building came into view. It was surrounded by a deck with chairs and umbrella-topped tables. Jarod turned to face her, grinned, and stretched out his hand in a grandiose gesture.
"Welcome to the Rose Cafe."
"Are we breaking and entering?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and folding her arms at her chest.
Rolling his eyes, he replied, "Of course not," then reached for Parker's hand and tugged her up the steps to the wooden deck as he explained, "I once helped out a guy, a television cameraman who was injured in a gang shooting. I gave Ken a call when I got to town, explained my predicament..."
"Explained?" Parker interjected warily and stopped dead in her tracks.
"I didn't go into specifics. I just said I'd like to find a quiet, private spot to take a special friend to dinner." He turned to look knowingly at her. "I haven't managed to stay free for five years by being careless. C'mon," he coaxed, pulling her arm. She sighed and allowed him to drag her across the deck to a counter over which the food must be served during business hours as he continued, "So Ken brought me out here to meet his uncle Junkoh, who runs this place with his wife, Chris."
Jarod finally released her hand and, disappearing behind the counter for a moment, returned with a stool, set it down, and literally lifted Parker onto it. He then turned the swivel seat so that she would face the counter before stepping back behind it and setting to work on something that appeared to relate to dinner. Parker said nothing but just stared at him, amused, but only faintly because that was all she could muster. All the while, he went on,
"They're very nice people; they were generous enough to arrange for the staff here to prepare a delcious meal for us - everything they make is good and, take my word for it, I've tried just about everything - so you won't even have to eat my cooking."
"Well that's a relief," she remarked, trying to sound nonchalant even though she still hadn't managed to will herself to relax.
"Indeed it is," he chirped. He, on the other hand, didn't appear at all tense. Happy as a big, slobbering puppy pretty much nailed it.
"Oh, and I'm sorry about earlier today," he offered as he began scooping things out of containers and onto plates.
Parker shrugged. In truth, she'd forgotten all about it. "Probably just as well. We need to keep up appearances and it's been ages since you ruined an article of my clothing."
"Awww, it takes all the fun out of it if you're going to be gracious about it," he teased.
She didn't reply because she couldn't think of anything to say. Parker glanced down at her hands, folded tightly and resting on the countertop. She could feel Jarod watching her, studying her, reading her. She heard him emit a heavy sigh, set down a kitchen implement, and walk around the counter. Then she felt his hands on her hips and found herself spinning around again to face him.
Gazing intently into her eyes, he began softly, "What Zoe said to you..." In response to her expression, which made it quite clear that she had no intention of going there, he added, "Whatever it was, you need to remember that she's angry and hurt. You also need to remember that you're not the one who hurt her. I am, and I'm the one who has to live with it. Of course, the whole mess *could* have been avoided if you'd started being nice to me sooner," he tacked on with a smile.
Parker struggled to keep a grudging smile from appearing. Failing, she looked away from him and muttered, "I've always hated it when you do that."
Grasping her by the chin, Jarod tilted her face toward his and asked, "Hate when I do what?"
"Know what I'm thinking exactly when I'm thinking it, sometimes before."
With a cheeky smile he responded, "What can I say; for a while there it was necessary for my survival. You're a heck of a lot tougher than I am so I had to be crafty."
"Damn right I am and you'd do well to remember that."
"Yes, ma'am," he whispered then wrapped his arms around her, pulled her to him, and kissed her deeply. It was the kind of kiss that one had no choice but surrender to, so she did. The tension seeped from her body as she wrapped her arms around his neck and curled her legs around his to hook her ankles behind his knees. She kissed him back in earnest.
* * * *
"Dessert?" Jarod offered hopefully.
"No thank you. I'm about ready to burst as it is." To his poorly concealed look of disappointment, Parker added with a smile, "But you go ahead, please."
He hopped up from the table and disappeared behind the counter, returning with a gooey chocolate monstrosity. He set it down and, with an unholy gleam in his eye, retook his seat.
"How old are you?" she teased.
He shoveled in a forkful, shrugged, and mumbled, "Good question," through a mouthful of chocolate.
Parker slid back in her chair and sipped at her wine as she watched Jarod gleefully inhale an enormous piece of cake. Where does he put it, she wondered as her eyes traveled the expanse of his broad, muscled chest. When he was finished he emitted a deep groan of satisfaction and flopped back in his chair, looking sated and content. If he opens his belt and undoes the button to his pants I'm leaving, she mused with a smirk.
"It's always nice to see you out of your work clothes," he observed. "You look great."
"Yeah, well, a pair of faded jeans and a pink cotton sweater don't carry much intimidation factor," she replied.
"Oh, I don't know about that. Someone might be inclined to find it *more* intimidating because it's clearly not a case of fancy tailoring or makeup. You really *are* that gorgeous."
"I see we've entered the shameless flattery portion of the evening," Parker remarked with a grin, adding, "And if you think I'm intimidating out of my work clothes..." She leaned forward slightly and purred, "You should see me out of *these* clothes."
His face erupting in a wide grin, Jarod literally launched from his seat and grabbed her and, for a moment or two, Parker thought he might take her up on the offer then and there. Instead, he pulled her into his arms and spun around and around on the wooden deck, deftly avoiding the tables and chairs scattered about the place.
"What are you doing, you lunatic?" she yelped as she was literally swept off her feet.
"Oops, how forgetful of me!" he said as he backed his way toward the counter without loosening his death grip on her and, therefore, leaving her no choice but to stumble along with him.
Jarod leaned back over the counter, forcing Parker to topple onto him helplessly. Smirking, he hesitated a moment and shot her one of his looks then flipped a switch and, when music began to play, propelled them both into a standing position and resumed moving about the deck.
"I realize you haven't been out in the world all that long, monkeyboy, but it *is* customary to *ask* a woman if she wants to dance rather than grabbing and molesting her," she chided playfully.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware that I had molested you because, frankly, I'd have thought it would be a lot more interesting..." He grinned mischievously at her. "And fun."
* * * *
"Mmmm... Bebel Gilberto," Parker purred softly as she rocked slowly in Jarod's arms. The sun rested low on the horizon; they had been dancing for almost an hour.
"You're familiar with her?" he whispered into her hair.
She nodded against him and said, "I love Brazilian music."
"Ever been?" he asked.
"Once... just a quick jaunt to Rio with friends... ages ago when I was young and spontaneous. I've always wanted to go back though and explore, you know, really see the country. Maybe someday..." She sighed and repeated, "Maybe someday."
Smiling wistfully, Jarod tightened his arms around her and abruptly changed the subject.
"I'm staying nearby."
"Hmmm?" was her only response.
"In a house... a small house, but it's very nice. The owners are away for the summer."
"Mmm-hmm..."
"It's a lot nicer than my usual accommodations. It's got a loft... and a fireplace."
"Sounds nice," Parker remarked lazily. There was a moment or two of silence and then,
"Well?"
"Well what?" she inquired, smiling against his shoulder.
"Would you like to see it?"
* * * *
*Who needs yoga?*
Sprawled on her stomach on the spacious, comfortable bed, Parker replayed a recent conversation with Sydney in which he had recommended yoga as an effective stress reliever. She had laughed out loud and asked him to picture her surrounded by a bunch of granola-crunching peaceniks in leotards. Then it had been his turn to chuckle.
She'd just discovered an alternative form of stress relief. Her body hummed with contentment and she was disinclined to move a muscle, only something occurred to her compelling her to inquire,
"What time is the last ferry back to Seattle? I'll need to be on it."
Jarod turned his head to glance at the clock on the beside table and replied, "It left eight minutes ago."
Lifting her head off the pillow, she said, "Then I'll have to take the bridge and you'll have to *acquire* another vehicle. I don't much care for the idea of risking being seen together in the city and I *have* to meet Broots in the hotel lobby at 7:00 a.m. sharp. If I'm not there on time and he starts looking for me then the sweepers we brought along will start to get..."
"It's okay, relax," he advised softly as he turned completely onto his side to face her then propped his head up on one elbow.
Running the tips of his fingers gently down the center of her spine, he continued, "I have every intention of getting you to the terminal in time to catch the first ferry. It leaves at 4:45 and that should get you back to town in plenty of time to dress, pack, and meet Broots."
She lowered her head to the pillow then smiled languorously up at him and remarked, "Sounds like you had this all planned out. Mighty sure of yourself, aren't you, Wonderboy?"
"Well, I find it always pays to hope for the best and prepare for the worst," he responded with a grin.
"And which does this constitute?" she asked with a playful gleam in her eye.
"That's a very good question, Miss Parker. I don't think I have enough information to answer at this time but I do plan to explore the matter further."
And explore he did, his hand wandering to the small of her back where he teased the sensitive flesh with his fingertips. Every cell in her body jumped to attention as if to say, "Again? Well, okay, if you insist!"
Jarod's hand wandered lower to cup and gently squeeze one of her buttocks then he sat up and climbed over her body to straddle her thighs with his knees. He leaned forward and began placing the most exquisite little kisses to the back of her neck, shoulders, and as much of her back as he could reach. Parker reveled in this attention for quite a while until, with a sigh, she reached for the open box on the bedside table, removing yet another foil packet and handing it back to him.
"Why, thank you, Miss Parker," Jarod murmured seductively.
"Anytime, buddy... mmm... anytime."
# # # #
Tbc... Now that they've started, I very much doubt they'll want to stop!