"Commute? You haven't commuted for three days, you tool."
His grin widened. "Exactly, and I'm finding that I like it."
I side-eyed him as I moved to the third and final table. "If you want to live here, all you have to do is ask."
"I dunno-have Satan's hellhounds made anymore appearances in your dreams?"
"They probably will tonight. With any luck, they'll be chasing you."
He laughed as he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. After brushing a kiss over my bare shoulder, he said, "I did find an apartment."
"Great. Go pay rent for you to decide you want to finish work and not leave." I rolled my eyes and escaped from his clutches to finish straightening the cloth.
"You're right. It really is a lot easier to just live with you."
"I wouldn't say it's easier."
"I didn't mean in general. Work-wise, it's easier. Otherwise, I'm probably slowly torturing myself." He grabbed me back and kissed me. "You're just lucky I love you."
My heart jumped. He'd never said it before. "Lucky is stretching it a bit."
"Say it back or I just made a complete tool of myself."
"You always make a tool of yourself."
"Raven. You're giving me a complex."
I laughed and, gripping his shirt, reached up onto my tiptoes and kissed him firmly. "Next time you decide to visit your parents," I said, trying not to laugh again, "Bring the rest of your stuff back. I guess I won't set my dream hellhounds on you, because you really are pretty lucky I love you."
Parker grinned, squeezing me against him. "Now, I hate to break up this lovefest we have going on, but I'm going to burn food if I don't put you down."
"Are you making gyros?"
"Yes."
I wriggled away from him and shoved him in the direction of the kitchen. "Go. And bring me a taste test."
"A taste test, huh?" The grin didn't leave his face as he opened the door. "Fine, but you owe me a blow job."
My lips twitched. "Hellhounds, Parker. Hellhounds."
His laugh echoed, even after the door shut.
I couldn't stop my smile. I expected a lot of things at the start of this summer. Hiring Parker wasn't one of them-and falling in love with him definitely wasn't. I was the mixologist, but there was no doubt at all that he'd come home and mixed up my world.
Four weeks ago, I would have minded.
Now, I didn't mind at all.
In fact, I was glad.
Because, somehow, as little sense as it made to me, there was no doubt about it.
Parker Hamilton was my person.