One Good Reason (Boston Love #3)(27)

“Spend the day with me. Let me take you on an adventure. Let me show you what fun looks like.”

I take a breath.

Here it is. The tipping point.

I’ve been putting him off all day, telling myself I don’t like him, don’t want to spend any more time with him than I have to, that lingering in his presence is due to the flash drive, nothing else. Certainly not because I might actually like him.

That would be crazy. Right?

His expression is easy-going as he waits for my answer, but his eyes never lose that intent edge as they stare into mine. There’s something simmering at the back of his irises that I can’t quite define — I don’t know him well enough.

But I want to, a voice in my mind stuns me by replying. I want to know this man — want to see what lies beneath that facade of trust-fund entitlement and joking nonchalance.

“Okay, Parker,” I whisper. His eyes flare when I say his name — his real name, not playboy or man-child. “One day. One adventure. You’d better make it count.”

“Darling… Something to know about me?” He leans closer. “I always make it count.”





7





The Bad Idea




We walk along the side of the boat until we reach a narrow wooden gangway extending over the water. One end rests on the dock before us; the other sits on the rail of the sailboat. It looks far too thin to hold Parker’s body weight, but he doesn’t even blink as he strides out onto the ramp like he’s done it a million times before. He probably has done it a million times before.

He pulls me along behind him and I have to bite down on my lip to keep from yelling, Wait just a goddamned minute! We don’t all live like you, jumping into things without ever glancing at the ground.

He must feel my hand go tense in his, because his grip loosens to release it. He stops in the middle of the gangway and glances back at me.

“You okay?”

My eyes dart down to the thin piece of wood suspending him over the water. There is no f*cking way I’m walking on that thing in heels. “Peachy.”

His eyes narrow. “Oh really?”

“Yep.” I swallow. “I just don’t want to plummet into the harbor, seeing as it looks about as warm as the White Witch from the Narnia movies and I’d rather not freeze to death.”

“Narnia?” His mouth twitches. “Really?”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Yes, really. Why do you sound so surprised?”

“I just wouldn’t have pegged you as a kids’ movie fan. I kind of figured you only watched documentaries. Black and white silent films. Foreign flicks with subtitles. Shit like that.”

“Well, you’re wrong.” My voice lowers. “And for the record, Narnia is not just a kids’ movie.”

“Whoa.” He holds his hands up in surrender. “Happy to be proven wrong. Let’s have a movie night, you can educate me on all things Narnian.”

“We’re not having a movie night.”

“Why not?”

“We’ve been through this. Multiple times. I’m not going out with you.”

“Technically, I was suggesting we stay in.”

“Still not happening.”

“Uh huh.” His tone is amused. As though he doesn’t believe a word I’m saying.

Idiot.

I strive for composure. “Listen. You really need to wrap your mind around this…” I make sure to emphasize every word, so he can’t possibly misinterpret my meaning. “After today, we’re never going to see each other again.”

He thinks about that for a nanosecond. “You’re very persnickety.”

“This is me being nice,” I inform him. “If you give me my flash drive back, you won’t have to experience my truly disagreeable side.”

“But, Zoe… I like your disagreeable side.”

I look skyward and ask the heavens, “Why me? What did I do to deserve this?”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.”

My gaze returns to Parker. “I hate you,” I say tiredly.

“Well, can you hate me from onboard?” He bounces a bit and the whole gangplank shakes like a tambourine. “You’re shivering. It’s warmer inside.”

My eyes widen. “Don’t bounce like that, you’ll snap the wood.”

“That’s what she said.”

I glare.

He grins. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.” He bounces again and the board jumps beneath his feet. “Come on. It’s perfectly safe.”

“Would you stop that?!” I exclaim, watching the plank rattle precariously. Another good bounce and he’ll be in the water.

“Why?” he asks, bouncing again. The board slips closer to the edge of the rail. “You worried about me?”

“No.” I swallow. My eyes are locked on his tread-less leather shoes — sliding again and again — and I feel my stomach clench. “You’re going to fall into the f*cking harbor and I am not jumping in after you, man-child.”

“Aw.” He laughs. “You’re worried about my welfare. It’s cute.”

I make an incredulous sound. “Only you would interpret that statement as cute.”