Free Need You Tonight by Marquita Valentine Page A

blink up at him, my lashes spikey with tears. “You’re going to cook for me?”
    “Oh yeah, and you’re going to eat every bit of it.” He flashes his dimples at me. “Sit tight. Think happy thoughts and I’ll be back.”
    *
    Parker
    I T TAKES ME less than fifteen minutes to clean up the old meal and make pancakes and bacon for us. I arrange the bacon on top of her pancakes to look like a smiley face. Grabbing a tray, I put everything on it and head back to the guest room.
    Hopefully, she isn’t too freaked out by my change of plans, or the fact that I carried her off to a bedroom. It had almost been her bedroom, though what I would have done when we’d gotten there—I’m not sure.
    Brooklyn is still right where I left her, only she’s asleep. Dark lashes fan out on the top of her cheeks, and her plump lips are slightly parted. Like this, she looks young, far too young to have been married and widowed. Hell, her husband had probably been too young as well.
    “Are you still hungry?” I ask, sitting down beside her on the bed with the tray in my hands.”
    Her lashes slowly lift, giving me a glimpse of what it would be like to wake up with her. My heart slams against my chest. I don’t need that glimpse. Not one damn bit.
    “Starving.” She gives me a crooked smile. “I fell asleep.”
    “Rough day at work?”
    She gives me a grateful smile and sits up. “Very rough.”
    I carefully set the tray in her lap. “Eat up.”
    “My bacon is smiling at me.”
    “That okay with you?” Jesus, I hope her husband hadn’t done this for her. “My little sister, Kelly, loves bacon smiles on pancakes.”
    “Never had one before.” She takes a bite, letting out a little moan. “Why does bacon have to be so good?”
    “Because it’s bacon.” I scarf down two pieces, and then start on my pancakes, covering them with syrup.
    “Your logic is truly astounding.”
    “It’s a gift,” I confide with a wink. “I’ve been thinking.”
    “About what?” she asks, her tongue darting out to catch a drop of syrup. I stifle a groan.
    “Maybe I could help you out.”
    “You’re already helping me out with the house.”
    “But what if I could help you out with more than just the house. What if I could help get your friends and family off your back?”
    Her brows crease. “Why would you help me?”
    “I don’t know…” I stretch out beside her on the bed. “Maybe we both need people in our lives who aren’t pressuring us.”
    She grabs a glass of orange juice. “I’ll drink to that.”
    I toast her with my glass. “Cheers.”

Chapter Ten
    Parker
    T HE NEXT DAY, I show up at Brooklyn’s house at ten am. She’s already outside, washing her SUV while wearing a bikini top and a pair of cutoffs.
    Surprise shows on her face, and I can already see the wheels turning in her head as she glances down at what she’s wearing.
    In some ways, I find it odd how modest she is. Or maybe modest is the wrong word. Shy might fit her better.
    “Need some help?” I ask as I get out my truck.
    “Sure. Just let me run inside and get another uh, rag.”
    While she’s inside, I start scrubbing the tires.
    “Here you go.” She stands beside me—this time with a t-shirt over her bathing suit top. Brooklyn catches me noticing the wardrobe change and tugs on the hem of her shirt. “I was getting a little cold.”
    Nothing on this planet can get me to point out that it is already eighty-five degrees and climbing. Taking the rag, I throw it in the bucket. “After I’m done with the tires, I’ll get the roof.”
    She flashes me a sweet smile. “That would be a big help. I have a hard time reaching the middle.”
    Turning my attention back to the tires, I start washing rims. “I didn’t mean to startle you, but I thought if I came over early, I could finish up the majority of your list this weekend.”
    “Oh.”
    Oh? I look up at her. Her grey eyes are soft, like rain falling. “You don’t sound happy about