Love's Paradox

Chapter 25: Feminist with a Side of Sarcasm

Parker pulls me against his naked body. "You know, Rae, I'm falling for you," he whispers. "No one has ever had this kind of effect on me before."

My thoughts scatter, and warmth radiates through me.

When I don't respond immediately, he says, "It's scary for me too."

"Who said I was scared?" I tease.

He ignores my attempt to lighten the mood. "It's obvious," he says quietly, his breath warm against my forehead. "Tell me you don't feel this same intense connection. Tell me you don't think about me every second we're apart, and then maybe I'll believe you aren't scared."

His words absorb into me, penetrating deep into my heart, forcing it to pick up its tempo. "I do think about you all the time," I admit. "I want the whole world to quit existing so we can be alone when we're together."

His arms tighten around me. "Have you ever thought of leaving Bowling Green?"

"All the time, but my family's here. I'd miss them too much."

"What if you and I left together? Not forever, just long enough that Ass Face could get over his obsession with you. Maybe we could go to Paris; you could attend that school."

I sigh dreamily. "It sounds too good to be true. Besides, Le Cordon Bleu probably won't accept me after I backed out last time. There's no way."

"You won't know until you try. Maybe there's another school who'd be happy to have you as a student."

I smile, thinking about Ian driving all over town in a vain attempt to find me, only to come up empty time and time again. "It'd be a dream come true."

His voice lowers when he says, "It doesn't have to be a dream, Rae. Just think about it."

To be honest, I'm a bit flabbergasted by his idea and a bit intrigued as well.

"I'd do anything for you," he says so quietly I'm not sure he even said it.

A rumble of thunder breaks through the silence.

"We better head to the car or we'll get drenched," he says.

For the first time, I notice we aren't moving anymore. "How long have we been docked?"

"Not long." He hands me my clothes, and we swiftly dress. Before we disembark, he makes sure I have my purse. Because he's a gentleman like that.

"What about the mess we left upstairs?"

He bends down to kiss me as we walk back to the car. "Don't worry about it."

"Sorry, can't help it."

We make it to the car right as it starts to pour down rain.

We're quiet as he drives us back to town, but I eventually break the silence. "My friends are throwing a little party at my apartment tomorrow. Want to come?"

He glances at me, giving me an amused and questioning look. "A party? For what?"

"Ian's incarceration, even if it's not likely to last long. I'll pick up some gelato if you want to come over," I tempt with a devilish half smile.

"You don't have to ask me twice. That's most definitely something to celebrate."

"Are you going to tell me about your family before I visit them?" I ask, changing the subject.

His carefree manner disappears in a wisp of anxiety.

"Uh-oh. What does that face mean?" I ask. "Should I be worried?"

"Nothing," he says, though I'm not at all convinced. He stares forward, the windshield wipers diligently swiping back and forth. There are no streetlights, so only the dash lights illuminate his features. "Don't worry."

I fold my arms, my eyebrows high as I stare at the side of his face. "Let's try that again," I say. "Are you going to tell me more about your family? I mean, won't they think it's weird if I know nothing at all?"

He shrugs. "There really isn't anything I can say about them that you won't find out within the first hour of being around them."

"Well, isn't that ominous," I snark. "Are they gun-toting, hardcore, right-wing nut jobs or something? Because then I should be worried."

He doesn't respond, but his carefully guarded expression, and the way he purposefully avoids my eyes, tells me plenty.

"I haven't outright said this yet," I begin. "But in case you haven't noticed based on my obvious clue-dropping, I'm a liberal, atheist, feminist with a side of sarcasm. But the sarcasm is usually just an allergic reaction to stupidity. Many on the right flee when they see me, holding up their crosses like I'm a vampire. I'm pretty sure most of Texas believes they can cure me by dousing me in holy water. You do realize this about me, right?"

His eyes stay glued to the road, but he reaches out and grabs my hand. "I do know this about you, and it's one of the things I adore so much. However, you're right about them being pretty conservative."

I gasp dramatically. "Republicans in Texas who own an oil company? Who would have thunk it?" I laugh, but Parker remains stoic. "What? Are you a Republican?" I cringe away from him in faux horror. "If you try to baptize me, it'll be like throwing a cat in water. Just warning you now."

He shakes his head, and I catch the tiniest tilt of his lips. "No churches. I'm like you. I trust science and lean farther left than my parents would like. My parents and I don't talk about it."

"Is this where you ask me to not say anything?" I ask.

His shoulders lift slightly, and he shifts uncomfortably at the direction our conversation is headed. "I don't care if you spout whatever it is you believe—or don't believe—as long as you leave my views out of it," he says.

"That's fair," I say. "But you really shouldn't be afraid to tell your family about your thoughts. They should be proud of you for forming your own opinions, even if they are vastly different from theirs."

"If only you knew," he mutters. "Sure, I'm entitled to have an opinion, but it's beguiling to them that I believe mine actually matters. Archer tried to convince my parents I was possessed when I told him, in secret, that I didn't believe in any gods. My family isn't even Catholic, but they contacted the local church in Bowling Green and asked if a priest would come to my house. Let's just say things between us haven't exactly been the same since."

I blink, stunned. I'm not quite sure how to respond, so I ask, a little too brightly, "How about this weather?"

He chuckles. "See why I don't want to talk about them? I want you to form your own opinions when you meet them."

"All right. But if they try to perform an exorcism on me, I'm out of there, lickety-split!"