by Jill Shalvis
feel it again.
It was hard to see past the little black dots floating in Zoe’s vision—a side effect from holding her breath so long—but she didn’t need to see in order to absorb the feel of Parker’s arms around her.
She could’ve stayed right here forever.
But eventually Parker pulled back, keeping one of her hands in his as he kicked in the doors of the four bathroom stalls.
“There was no one with him,” she said. “At least n-not that I saw.” Great, now she was shaking and stuttering.
“Only a few more minutes, Zoe,” he said with quiet understanding.
She started to say she was still fine, but her teeth were chattering now. As if from a great distance she felt Parker tighten his grip on her hand and pull her from the bathroom. He led her down the hall, slowing his long-legged stride to match hers.
In the front reception area, he pushed her into one of the chairs and squatted in front of her. “Take a few deep breaths,” he said quietly. Calm steel.
As she did just that, he kept one hand on her and with the other pulled out his cell. “Sharon,” he said. “Carver just took an outbound flight from Sunshine Airport. Tell me you got everything you needed from him—Yeah, I do realize you would have rather I called you before he took off, but there were extenuating circumstances—Such as? Such as I had to make a deal to keep someone I care about safe. We can’t tail him. Now did everyone get what they needed from him or not?” Eyes on Zoe, he let out a breath and briefly closed his eyes. “Okay, good. Yes, I’m sure you do want to talk to me. Later.” He disconnected and hit another number.
Zoe couldn’t imagine who he was calling now, but the mystery was immediately solved.
“Kel,” Parker said. “Incident at the airport. You’ll want to come down here and get it on record personally.” He disconnected and slid his phone away. It was already ringing, but he didn’t pull it back out or take his eyes off Zoe. “Joe,” he said in his normal speaking voice, and how he’d known Joe was heading his way, Zoe would never know. “I need a soda for Zoe.”
Shocking the hell out of Zoe, Joe did an about-face and headed for the soda machine against the far wall without a word. “Can you teach me how to do that?” she whispered.
Joe came back and handed Zoe the soda.
“Sip it,” Parker said. “It helps with shock.” He rose to his feet and said a few quiet words to Joe that she couldn’t catch—undoubtedly telling Joe some version of a story about what had just happened and that the authorities were on their way.
She closed her eyes a moment and then Parker was back, crouched in front of her, his face a mask of concern.
“You told me to stay,” she said. “Stay.”
“Which, by the way, you didn’t do.”
“Because I’m not a dog,” she said.
He dropped his head and studied his feet a moment, whether to control his temper or resist strangling her, she had no idea. “If there’s danger and you’re with me and I ask you to do something like stay, then I have to know you’ll do just that.”
“You didn’t ask,” she said. “You told. And even if two out of three siblings agree with you, I would’ve liked to be asked.”
He just looked at her. “Drink the soda.”
“I’m fine!” And pissed to boot, it seemed. “And define ‘with you.’”
“In a relationship.”
“You don’t do relationships,” she said. “And it’s no wonder, you can’t even have a real conversation. Asking me to stay would have meant a question mark at the end of your sentence. Like, ‘Hey, Zoe, could you wait here a sec?’ Or how about ‘I’m about to go jump right into harm’s way, don’t worry your pretty little head about a thing, the big bad caveman’s got it all covered.’”
He wrapped his hand around hers holding the soda can and brought it up to her lips.
She took a long sip, and then as the sugar eased into her system, she sighed. “Okay, so adrenaline rushes tend to make me cranky.”
“Understandable,” he said with only a very small lip twitch. “But you need to understand something, too. When it comes to your safety, I’m never going to take a chance.”
She opened her mouth, but he shook his head. “Never, Zoe.”
Saying anything more to that would be like talking to a brick wall. “I don’t know who in their right mind would want a relationship with you,” she grumbled.
Except she did know who. Dammit. She wanted a relationship with him.
She’d told him he wasn’t The One, that he didn’t have her basic requirements. But she’d just watched him handle a volatile, violent, dangerous situation without blinking. He’d have done anything to keep her safe, including stepping in front of a gun, no questions asked. He’d put his life before hers.
And right then and there she mentally rewrote her requirements in a man, and those requirements all added up to Parker James.
Too bad he wasn’t available.
She drew in a deep breath and she realized she was thinking clearly again.
“Better?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
He didn’t smile but his eyes did, with a light that said he was proud of her. Still, there was a grim set to his features as he rose.
“You’re going to figure out how to stop him now, right?” she asked. “Find out where Devon is flying him to and have him followed and arrested?”
“No.”
“But—”
“No,” he said implacably.
She heard all sorts of things in his voice and had no idea what any of it meant. “Parker, I am not going to be the reason you don’t do your job.”
Nothing.
“Dammit, Parker, say something.”
He didn’t, and in the next minute the lobby was filled with cops, including Kel.
She was given a blanket and hot tea, and tucked into a corner like a damn victim. And then asked a million questions by the police.
And by Kel.
And then a million more by others whom she guessed were FBI and ATF, and a few more alphabet agencies she didn’t know.
But not Parker.
She was seen by medics who fretted about shock, but she wasn’t in shock. She was in the damn dark. She refused to go to the hospital and was reluctantly cleared at the scene.
Parker was the one to collect her, reappearing after too long a time where she hadn’t been able to see him in the chaos. He ushered her out to her car and into the passenger seat.
“I can drive.”
“I know,” he said, but he got behind the wheel.
“Let me guess,” she murmured. “You’ve got this.”
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I’ve got this. I’ve got you.”
And on that, she was going to have to trust him because she was suddenly so exhausted she couldn’t lift her own head.
Zoe opened her eyes and gasped in horror. Once again she was in the airport’s bathroom, panic flowing through her veins instead of blood. She watched in slow motion as Parker stepped in front of her so that Carver’s gun bumped him in the chest.
Parker’s gun had vanished. He had no protection at all—not that she could tell by the way he stood there still as night and deadly calm, like maybe he faced down maniacs on a daily basis.
Not Zoe. Her skin felt too tight for her body. She was both sweating and shaking. And her heart thundered against her ribs so hard she was sure they’d shatter before this was over.
“Drop the gun,” Parker said.
Carver laughed maniacally and emptied his clip into Parker’s chest.
Zoe screamed as he crumpled to the floor.
“Zoe.”
She jerked awake to the feel of Parker undoing her seat belt. They were parked in front of her house and he was outside the car, crouched at her side. “Easy,” he said. “Just me.”
Breathing like a lunatic, she’d have fallen right out of the seat if not for Parker. “You’re safe,” he said softly, his hands on her thighs.
/>
Because he had her. And no one had ever made her feel so good. She let out a shaky breath and shoved her fingers through her hair. “I’m awake now.”
He nodded and rose to his feet, holding out a hand for hers. Night had fallen and so had the temperature. He wrapped her in his sweatshirt and led her to the house. Inside, he took her straight through the living room to the kitchen, where he sat her at the table.
“I have questions,” she said.
“I know.” He let Oreo out the back kitchen door to do his business and then fed the kittens, who were wild and unruly and climbing up her legs. He pulled them free, set them on the floor with a few of their toys, and put water on the stove to boil.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Making you tea.”
“I don’t want tea,” she said. “I want answers.”
When the tea was ready he set a hot mug in front of her and leaned back against the counter, arms crossed. Clearly not exactly open to talking, but he hadn’t refused her, either.
She’d take it. “At the airport,” she said, “Kel told me you’d done the right thing, which was a lot harder than the easy thing, and that it was going to cost you, which wasn’t the right thing.”
Parker’s face was blank, giving nothing away of his thoughts. He didn’t speak.
Shock.
“What’s today going to cost you?” she asked.
He slid his gaze away.
“Your job?” she asked.
He shrugged.
“Oh, Parker,” she breathed. “But I don’t get it. In the end you did what your boss had asked you to do. Honor the deal with Carver and let him walk.”
“They meant for him to stay in Idaho, in a known place where they could keep an eye on him. I sent him packing.”
“But Joe told the authorities that Devon only flew Carver to Coeur d’Alene.”
“We lost him from there,” he said.
She bit her lip, refusing to cry for him because he wouldn’t want her to, but it was all so unfair. That he’d ended up doing what he had was all her fault, her doing. He’d had to react to keep her safe and if she knew one thing about Parker, she knew that he’d never even weighed the choice. “Surely they’ll understand—”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s my problem, not yours.”
Right. She’d nearly forgotten. Her problems were his problems. And his problems were his problems. It infuriated her all over again. God, she was such an idiot. Because she was still falling for him, even now. Hell, she’d already fallen. She dropped her head to the table and thunked it a few times, but it didn’t help.
“Okay,” he said, and pushed away from the counter. “Bedtime.”
She lifted her head when he wrapped a palm around her arm and pulled her out of the chair. “I’m not in the mood.”
His lips quirked. “To sleep.”
“I knew that,” she muttered. Tugging free, she headed to the door and then stopped. “I need something from you,” she said to the wood.
“Anything,” he said from behind her. Right behind her.
He’d followed and was close enough that she could take in his scent. They’d been gone for hours, in an incredibly tense situation, and he still smelled amazing.
She could hate him for that alone. “I need you to be strong here, because I don’t think I can be, not after today. I need you to keep the space invasions to a minimum until you go, which I assume you’re doing sooner than later.”
Parker paused. “I have to be in D.C. to face the music on Monday,” he finally said.
Today was Friday. She swallowed hard and nodded, and walked out.
Twenty-seven
Parker walked through the house, checking windows and locks, turning off lights. He’d put off going to bed because he knew sleep wasn’t going to come for him.
He spent a few moments with the ridiculously energetic Bonnie and Clyde, who’d gotten bigger this week, their strength finally matching their courage and bravado. They were now insane heathens who climbed and destroyed everything in their midst.
And he adored them every bit as much as he did Oreo.
When he finally went upstairs, he passed by his bedroom, heading to Zoe’s, needing to check in on her just to make sure she’d been able to fall asleep without any trouble, that what had happened wasn’t bothering her.
He had no intention of letting her know he was there, but the sight of her soothed an ache he hadn’t even realized he’d had. In the center of her bed she was curled up around Oreo, the two of them huddled together and lit by only the moon’s glow.
Oreo’s nose wriggled. Then one bleary eye pried open. At the sight of Parker, his tail thumped the blankets.
“Stay,” Parker mouthed to him, pointing at the bed, but Oreo, hopeful that he’d brought food, abandoned his mistress and hopped off the bed.
Zoe turned restlessly, reaching out for the dog in her sleep with a soft sound of distress.
Stay the hell away from me.
Okay, so that wasn’t exactly what she’d said, but it was what she’d meant. And then she made the sound again, like her dreams were dark and chasing her, and he couldn’t, he just couldn’t leave her to face the demons—his demons—on her own. Lying down beside her—on top of the covers—he stroked a hand over her arm to her fingers, which he entwined with his. “You’re safe,” he whispered.
He’d made sure of it. There was a watch on this house, and would be for as long as he thought it necessary to make sure Carver kept his word.
Zoe immediately curled up into Parker, pressing her face in the crook of his neck and inhaling deep, like she needed his essence to breathe, like maybe he could chase away all the bad in the world.
And then she made a sound of frustration at the covers caught between them, yanked them free, and wrapped herself around him like an octopus. He was still fully dressed but she wore her pj’s, which tonight consisted of a teeny, tiny pair of shorts and an equally tiny, snug tank top. He had to close his eyes and do math problems in his head. When that didn’t work, he tried to count sheep. Hell, he told himself, think of the job he’d probably screwed himself out of.
But all he could think was that there was nowhere else on earth he’d rather be than right here, holding Zoe. And knowing it, he buried his face into her hair.
“Parker?” she asked sleepily.
“Shh,” he said. “Go back to sleep.”
There was a beat during which he held his breath, but then her arms came around him and she did just that, went to sleep.
Even more amazingly, so did he.
Zoe came awake when her blanket moved and let in the cold morning air.
Except it hadn’t been a blanket, it had been Parker. She opened her eyes as he reached over her to the nightstand and grabbed his phone, which was vibrating across the wood.
He slid his thumb across the screen and listened for a long moment. “I’ll be there,” he said. “Yes, as in today, so stay right where you are. Don’t move until I get there.”
He disconnected and, silent as a cat, slid out of the bed.
He was shirtless and shoeless, wearing low-slung jeans, unfastened.
He looked delectable.
Not that she was going to bite. She might be a little bit slow in the man department, but she did learn from her mistakes.
Eventually.