I undo the ribbon and open it. And then my jaw drops. "You—I can't believe it. You brought me some Tarte Tatin?"
"Yes," he says proudly.
"That's every cooking addict's dream. How did you know I'd want something like this?"
"I had my assistant research to find out what French dish would most appeal to a hobby chef."
If he didn't look dead serious, I'd be convinced he's humoring me. "Wait, you seriously did that?"
"Yeah."
"You're . . . thorough," I say, stunned.
"Always. What did you expect?"
"Oh my God, this is heaven in a box," I say, eating one of the two pieces of pie. It's a caramelized apple tart baked upside down. The feeling of bliss isn't just due to the food, though. He wouldn't go to these lengths if I weren’t important to him, would he?
"I'm curious, what would you call a vibrator? Battery-operated heaven?"
I elbow him. "Shut up."
"You aren't eating the second one?"
"No way. I'm taking it home to study it. I tried to bake this a few times, with disappointing results."
"I'm guessing my performances last week were also disappointing since you were so eager for a vibrator." He smirks as I blush.
"No, it's not that at all. I have one anyway. I mean—”
I stop as Parker starts laughing again.
"What?" Parker asks, and I realize I've been staring at him.
"Nothing. I like to see you laugh. You look younger. You should try it more often."
"Not many people can bring this out in me. But you can. And I'd like you to do it as often as you can."
My heart skips a beat.
I put the box on the back seat. There are a million things I wanted to ask him about his trip. He went to Paris and Barcelona, two cities I’m dying to see. But the lightning-quick beats of my heart somehow seem to drive away any thought of those cities. One glance at the growing bulge in Parker's pants, and thoughts about anything else except one thing vanish for good.
"A penny for your thoughts?" I ask mockingly.
There's a pause, and when Parker speaks again, his voice has a rough edge to it that sends delicious shivers through my belly. "They're only worth that much to you, huh? You'll have to offer more than that."
"Tell me and maybe I'll consider it."
"If you insist," Parker says, and though he resumes a serious demeanor, there's still a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "Why was your first thought that I bought you a vibrator?"
"Hmm, let's see . . . maybe because of all the sexting we did this week?"
"Did you use a vibrator while we were doing it?"
"No."
"How did you pleasure yourself, Jessica?" he asks, and I shudder at the roughness in his voice.
I sink in my seat, my face suddenly really, really hot. "With my hands," I whisper, staring at the wheel.