His Substitute Wife... My Sister Book One Page 22

  She was all for him protecting his wife’s integrity, but dammit she needed to know how he felt. “Chyna told me that you argued heatedly after Jaelen left.” Evasively she asked, “Are you still arguing? Or mad at each other?”

  Parker was a little uncomfortable speaking to her about something so personal, but it was in Chyna’s nature to blab all their business. She wasn’t one to learn from her mistakes and Charisse must be the only one she had to confide in about personal issues since she couldn’t go to Joanie or Cheyenne anymore. “Chyna and I argued and then we made up, I guess. I don’t know.”

  “And when you made up, how did you feel?”

  “Charisse, aren’t you getting personal? What does it matter how we made up or how I felt about it?” he asked suspiciously.

  Quickly she went back to picking at her food. “Nothing, I was just worried about you. You’ve been so nice to me and I know Chyna can be a bitch at times and insensitive at times, but like I’ve said before you deserve better.”

  “Better? I deserve better? You’ve never said that to me.”

  “Well, maybe I’ve said it to myself,” she said offhandedly finding the picked over food all of a sudden very interesting to look at instead of looking at him.

  “What’s better for me? What kind of woman would be better for me, Charisse? You?”

  “Oh hell no!” she blurted out. “I’m crazy!”

  “I beg to differ on that, but let’s finish with me.” He leaned forward. “What kind of woman would be right for me?”

  “A woman with less drama and one who can appreciate what you do for them.”

  “Really? And you don’t think you could be that kind of woman?”

  “It doesn’t matter what kind of woman I could be.” She put her fork down and just used her finger to pick up a broccoli spout. Gnawing on a little at a time, she figured out what she was craving instantly. “I want peanut butter.”

  He frowned. “Are you changing the subject?”

  “No. Really Parker. I want some peanut butter.”

  It then dawned on him, she was having her first craving and he was excited about it. Immediately he stood up and went to the kitchen. The maid just happened to be in there.

  “Is something wrong, Mr. Mills?” she asked concerned.

  “Ms. Sheridan needs some peanut butter.”

  “With her food?”

  “No… I don’t know. She just wants some peanut butter.”

  “We’ve never had peanut butter in the house before. You’ve never asked for it and Ms. Mills is allergic to peanuts.”

  He took the stairs almost three at a time to the third floor to knock on Rochelle’s door. She looked almost frightened at the insistent knocks.

  “Is something wrong, Mr. Mills?”

  “Peanut butter,” he said out of breath. “Do you have any?”

  She went over to the private refrigerator, but there was nothing in there and then she checked the cabinet, to which she found a small jar that had never been opened. Handing it to him, she said, “I’ve never seen anyone this desperate for peanut butter.”

  “Not for me,” he said gaining his breath. “Charisse wants some.”

  “Oh,” Rochelle said with the confusion leaving her face.

  He returned to the dining room, but grabbed a spoon from the kitchen before setting the jar in front of the stunned looking Charisse.

  “Are you insane?” she asked incredulously jumping out of her chair.

  Parker shook his head coolly and took his seat. “I’ve been waiting too long to be at the beck and call of the woman who would carry my child.”

  “But you don’t just go and get whatever I want, Parker!”

  Proudly, he said, “My father did it for my mother, my grandfather did it for my grandmother and so on and so on.”

  “And I’m going to endure you being there for me hand and foot for nine months?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh gawd!” Even though she really wanted to be obtuse and not even eat the peanut butter there had been a real craving and she couldn’t help herself as she opened the jar. Yet, stubbornly ignored the spoon he had thoughtfully brought and dug the broccoli inside for a large chunk of peanut butter to eat of the spear.

  He didn’t even flinch in disgust but looked absolutely ecstatic watching her. For some reason knowing he was just so happy made her even more upset.

  “You’re wasting your time,” she said.

  “It’s my time.”

  “I’ll get on your nerves.”

  “You’re pregnant. It’ll be excusable,” he said simply.

  “I’m going to hate you.”

  “Won’t matter.” He picked up a napkin and handed it to her.

  She snatched it away and wiped her mouth before slamming it back on the table. “You’re going to drive me crazy.”

  “How can I do that when you’re already crazy?”

  Instantly she stopped eating and narrowed her eyes to slits, but he didn’t look the least bit apologetic at what he had said. If he continued to be nice to her, she didn’t know if she could forget about… everything, but if she just got him to understand he needed to back off, then maybe he would. Yet, this was Parker Mills and just because you told him not to do things still didn’t mean he would. She needed him to see her way but yelling at him or getting upset with him didn’t work. Leaning close to him resting her arms on the table, she asked calmly, “Do you really think I’m crazy, Parker?”

  Parker suddenly realized that she was just inches from him and when he leaned a little closer; he noticed she didn’t back away. There was newfound brazenness about her and he had to assume it had to be from the baby.

  “Actually no, Charisse, but you don’t mind people assuming the worst about you.”

  She reached down without breaking eye contact from him and dug her finger in the peanut butter. He watched as she brought it up to her mouth and sucked it off her finger. The action really was innocent, but Parker couldn’t help become aroused at just her lips tightly gripping her finger and he suddenly felt transported to last night when he was in the library.

  ‘NO! It was your wife!’ he told himself.

  “What’s wrong with letting people think the worst about me? It keeps them away and I like that.”

  Briefly, he composed himself shifting a little because of the sudden tightness in his pants. “Yes, I remember, to be left alone and niceness makes you sick,” he said.

  “Now you’re understanding. So all this waiting on hand and foot is ridiculous for someone who just wants to be left alone.” In her sweetest voice, she said, “You want to make me happy right?”

  “You can fake liking it, just like you’re faking being sweet now.”

  She became upset again instantly. “Parker!”

  “Charisse, I’m going to do whatever you want because you carry my child. Accept it and just use me.”

  Grabbing her peanut butter and a handful of broccoli spears, she mumbled, “Lunch time is over. I have to get back to work.”

  Parker watch her leave out very amused at her innocent attempt to seduce him into getting him to do what she wanted. It was good to see she could “fake it,” because that was almost close to actually being normal. If she kept faking it though, he’d find himself confusing her for the wife he wanted.

  This brought up last night’s heated argument.

  “You’re right Parker and that’s why I need your help.”

  After she’d said those words he’d felt his gut dropped, which should have been his indication to get away from her as fast as possible. Chyna’s plans usually tended to be insane and frustrating.

  He couldn’t believe the words that had come out of his wife’s mouth, but at the same time, the whole thing made so much sense. Yet, he’d still gotten upset because it was immoral and ludicrous. Maybe five years ago when he felt being out there and cheating it would have been fine, but now he was trying to be the best husband he could be. Now that he had a chance to thi
nk about it, he could almost understand Chyna’s reasoning because of her condition. It made sense and maybe that “gift” in the library last night was her way of getting him to see it her way.

  The maid came in and cleaned off the table.

  “If you have more spears could you see if Ms. Sheridan would like to finish them off?” he said. “And make sure peanut butter is in the house from now on.”

  “Yes, Mr. Mills,” she said obediently and went back to the kitchen.

  Charisse would get upset that he was being thoughtful again, but he could care less. He wanted to be there for the baby and would climb Mount Everest for the freshest damn water on earth if his baby craved it. She’d get used to it.

  Chyna came in the house carrying some bags from a baby store and looking flush from her shopping trip. By this time, Parker had placed his feet up in the chair and was just thinking about all of yesterday.

  “I’d like to speak to you about last night.”

  She looked around to see if anyone was around.

  “Charisse is up in the office, so we can speak about this alone.”

  “What do you want to speak about Parker?” She set her bags down in the chair Charisse had previously occupied.

  “Why did you do that? You’ve never done that before.”

  “Yes, I have,” she said knowingly.

  “Not like that.”

  She did that indifferent shrug. “We needed something different. I knew you were really mad at me, so I thought I’d do something to make things just a little better. Did it work?”

  “It helped,” he admitted. “If there was something wrong with you, Chyna, that could affect our marriage would you trust me enough to understand and tell me?” He wanted to give his wife a way to tell him the truth because he didn’t want to admit he had overheard what she had said the other night.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t answer my question with a question,” he snapped.

  “Parker, there’s still a lot of trust issues that we have.”

  “There’s none that I have. So why should you have them?”

  “There’s nothing wrong.”

  This was a bold face lie and he wanted to throttle her, but he tried to be understanding and knew she was just afraid she’d lose him. There was nothing he could say or do to make her sure that he wouldn’t walk out of this marriage until she ended it. He refused to file for divorce and he wanted to say he had done all he could to make it work. True the last six years had been hell on them, but they’d made it this far; he felt they could make it further no matter what the problem was.

  She asked to change the subject, “How was lunch?”

  “Missing my wife,” he snipped, still a little bit upset that she had rebuffed him for lunch.

  “But I’m sure you and Charisse had a nice time.”

  “What kind of nice time would I have had with her? She’s anti-social Charisse, plus I think I upset her.”

  “You could talk about work and things like that.”

  “We didn’t.”

  She only shrugged and he knew she could care less.

  Standing up, he said in a firm determined voice, he said, “Next time I want to have lunch with my wife, you won’t refuse,” he said.

  She flinched her eye wanting to refuse and get upset, but she didn’t.

  Straightening his tie, he walked back up to the library where Charisse was just finishing up the work. Before he said something to her, she said, “Parker, I’m trying to be professional in here.”

  The way she said, “in here,” was significant to her, but he couldn’t figure that out. They’d spoken of personal matters “in here” before so how was now different? For some reason his eyes wandered over to the chair he had been sitting in the night before and then he looked back at her.

  She quickly looked back down at what she was doing faking concentration.

  “Charisse, do you know what happened in here last night?” he asked walking over to her. Currently she was standing beside the desk where the file cabinet was clutching the files to her chest as if it were some type of shield as he came closer to her. When she was still making that small gasping noise that she had been making earlier at the table, which he ignored then, he added, “And before you try to fake anything about now, just remember what a horrible liar and actress you are.”

  Slowly, she looked up from her papers and bit her lip to stop herself from gasping. Her brow was furrowed and her knuckles were turning white from clutching the files so tightly.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Were you sneaking around the house? Did you hear us in here?”

  “I’m not talking about this in here.” She started to turn away.

  Parker put a hand up on the file cabinet leaning closer to her. “Look at me Charisse,” he ordered. “And tell me the truth.”

  Turning back to him, she found that she had to tilt her head up to look at him because of his proximity. The sickness immediately returned. When she stepped back to give herself a moment to collect herself until her rear pressed against the file cabinet, he followed.

  He asked again with his words coming out slowly. “What do you know about what happened in here last night, Charisse? Tell me or I swear I’ll shake it out of you and damn your condition.”

  If her heart didn’t stop racing, it was going to burst. ‘He is going to touch me!’

  Chapter 22

  ‘You won’t die,’ her mind assured her.

  Yet this knowledge did nothing to relax the proximity sickness overwhelming her and she didn't know if she wanted to throw up, scream or reach out and touch him. There weren't tingles in her body anymore. She was quivering and her legs felt ready to give out, but she wasn't going to pass out. That was the crazy thing. And she really wasn't sick, but actually felt excitement.

  'No! No! No!' she ordered herself and clutched the file not to protect herself, but to hold her hands away from doing what they really wanted to do.

  “I’ll scream,” she threatened Parker.

  “No one will come,” he refuted smugly. “Rochelle’s locked in her room with the television blaring and the maid will ignore us.” He decided to keep the fact that Chyna was downstairs, just to call her bluff.

  Parker saw the panic overtaking her and didn’t press any closer. She was terrified, yet he needed answers and he knew Charisse couldn’t lie to him.

  This information empowered him. Chyna and Cheyenne were good at deceptions, but Charisse was not and did not strive to be like that.

  Except this time she wished she had been. He could see it written all over her face and he liked the knowledge she was so honest, pure and innocent.

  “Yes!” she cried. “Yes Parker! Now move away!”

  “So why were you sneaking around outside this door in the middle of the night?” For the life of him he couldn’t remember whether the door was opened or closed, but at the time it didn’t matter. Now it did.

  She stopped immediately in her panic and looked stunned. “You didn’t know?”

  “Of course, I didn’t know. My mind and body was a bit occupied at the moment, but we didn’t know you were in the hallway. I apologize for that.”

  Now she looked really confused. “You’re sorry for what happened?”

  “Oh hell no. How could I be sorry? Well, afterwards I…” He looked aggrieved, but then he looked again at her suspiciously. “Why were you sneaking around?”

  ‘Because I was in here with you!’ her mind screamed but that didn’t come out of her mouth. “I couldn’t sleep. I had a lot on my mind.” ‘And in my mouth!’ For some reason, her eyes drifted down to his pants, but then she quickly looked away.

  “So can you explain why Chyna did that?”

  ‘He really didn’t know?!’

  Charisse’s face frowned up, relaxed and then her eye twitched. Finally she revealed confusion in her eyes as if he’d spoken a different language.

  That had been a new unexplained
face, to which he assumed meant maybe she had not heard him. He started to repeat the question. “Did Chyna confide in you why she– “

  “I heard you,” she snapped cutting him off. “You terrified me like that to ask me that?!”

  “I needed answers.”

  “Chyna didn’t confide in me about anything she did with you last night.” And that was the honest to goodness truth, because ‘CHYNA DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WITH YOU, PARKER!’ Except she didn’t dare say this to him.

  He was still curious about her being around last night and for the life of him he didn’t know why he continued to press it or why his body was even more excited knowing that Charisse had been nearby last night. “How much did you see or could you see anything?”

  “No, I couldn’t see anything.” This was the absolute truth too, but now she was a little pissed off. “Get away from me, Parker.”

  “This shouldn’t be an issue.”

  “It’s not.”

  “But you were upset.”

  “It was an over exaggeration. I have a condition and your proximity was upsetting.”

  He noticed she used the past tense even though he hadn’t moved. It was then that he noticed the supple signs in her face. Her lips were fuller, her eyes were expecting and her skin seemed flushed. She was aroused by his proximity, which was a far cry from fear. Did she even know that? The fact that she was acting like a woman brought his manhood to semi hardness again because he found her to be even more beautiful. “So my proximity isn’t upsetting anymore.”

  “Parker,” she warned. “Don’t look into this more than what is on the surface. Now step away.”

  “We can talk about anything, right, Charisse?”

  Why did he have to talk about things now? Couldn’t he wait when she could actually think straight? ‘That might be never, Charisse the way you get when you’re around him is not good for your equilibrium!’

  “No, not right now! Not in here.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re too close!”

  “But you said– “

  “Forget what I said and move.”

  “Why do I have the feeling that the current proximity issue is not because of your condition, but because of something else?”