Head Over Heels by Lena Matthews (classic books for 10 year olds TXT) 📗

so quickly before. This was more than attraction. It was downright obsession.

Parker made his way over to the bar, uncomfortable with the direction his thoughts were taking him. He needed a drink.

A real one.

“Would you like another drink, Cyn?”

“I still have my soda.”

“I meant a real drink.” Turning, he flashed his most disarming smile. The one that charmed hardened nuns and suspicious mothers alike. It was a mask of the highest quality and unlucky for him, she saw right through it.

“No, thank you.”

“Still don’t trust me?”

“I still don’t know you.”

Parker turned away and made himself a bourbon and coke, all the while thinking how her words didn’t sit right with him. With his drink in hand, he made his way back to the couch and sat down. This time a bit closer to her.

“What would you like to know? Ask away. My life is an open book.” Thanks to the paparazzi. “If you ask, I’ll answer.”

“Really?” The idea seemed to intrigue her. Cyn eased up on the couch and tucked her legs underneath her. The black skirt rose high on her thigh, teasing him with a sexy flash of brown flesh. His palms tingled to touch her, but he knew if she didn’t trust him to pour her a drink, she wouldn’t trust him to partake of the sweet chocolate flesh before him.

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Lena Matthews

“Yes. What do you want to know?” He braced himself for an onslaught of questions about his job and income. When he’d given her his name earlier, she didn’t respond. So either she was the best actress on the face of the earth or she didn’t have a clue.

“You asked me earlier what I thought of your club, why don’t you tell me what you think of it.”

The question took him back a bit. Parker hadn’t been expecting that. “Umm…”

“Is that a no-no?”

“Not at all. It was just surprising.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I was expecting something along the lines of materialistic stuff.”

“Please.” She rolled her very expressive hazel eyes. “I so don’t care about those sorts of things. I mean it’s obvious you must have some money, you do own a club.”

“Part of a club and to be honest, not a very big part.”

“Either way, it’s your business, not mine. Besides, knowing what kind of car you drive won’t tell me anything about you, except where you shop. It’s not what you do that’s important. It’s who you are when no one is around that matters most.”

She amazed him. Her insight was as refreshing as her honesty. “Who are you?”

She lightly laughed. “I’m Cyn, the lady asking the questions.”

Either his life had become overly jaded or he needed to get out more. He’d forgotten women like Cyn ever existed. Mentally shaking his head, he thought about her question.

“I’m sure it’s a good investment, but I’m not sure if this is what I want to do for the rest of my life.”

“What do you want to do for the rest of your life?”

“I have no idea. I have a great job now but it’s getting old. Or I am.”

“You, old? I doubt that. How old are you, gramps?”

“Thirty-five. You?”

“Twenty-five.”

“Aww…you’re a baby.”

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Head over Heels

“Whatever, old man.” She tsked. “You seem to have accomplished a lot at such an early age. Your parents must be proud.”

That was laughable. “Proud isn’t exactly the word I’d use.”

“Why not?”

“I could make money hand over fist, but until I deliver upon my parents’ steps a dutiful wife and strapping young heir, they’ll never be pleased. My father wants a namesake and my mother wants a grandchild to brag about over tea at the Country Club.”

“Do they beat you?”

Her comment startled him. “No.”

“Are they evil drunks who touched your little boy places when no one was looking?”

“No.” She really was too much .

“Then it could be worse,” she said with a smile and a shrug of her shoulders.

“Well, when you put it that way…” he laughed. “What about your parents?”

Her smiled dimmed. “My mother is dead and my father is gullible.”

“Gullible?”

“Big time. He used to be normal back in the day, but now this hag he’s in lust with has him on a leash. And not the hot sexy kind either.”

Hot sexy leashes. A woman after his own heart. “Yes, but did he beat you or touch your little girl places?”

“Nope.” She smiled. “So it’s not that bad.”

“Not at all.” Parker took a drink from his glass. To his utter amazement, Cyn held her hand out for his glass. He handed it to her and watched as she took a dainty sip, then gave it back. Her actions spurred him on. It was definitely a step in the right direction.

“Next question.”

Cyn continued to barrage him with off the wall questions all the while taking sips from his drink. Parker stood to refresh the glass at least twice and each time she waited until he took a drink before partaking herself. He decided he liked the interesting little ritual they’d created.

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Lena Matthews

He also liked the way she lined up the glass to match almost exactly where his lips had been with her own before drinking. It was as intimate as a kiss, sexy even, but not as fun.

For every question she asked, he would ask one of his own. They talked and laughed and spent the evening getting to know each other on a level Parker had never been to with another woman.

She’d discovered more about him in their time together than a decade worth of interviews by experienced reporters had over the course of his career. The woman could charm the birds from the trees. It was a good thing she didn’t know what kind of gold mine the information was.

In the midst of a funny story about silly fears, Cyn’s cell phone rang. It was the first interruption they’d experienced since entering the room. And it was a very unwelcome one. Frowning, she pulled the phone from her little black purse and gasped.

“What’s