One Good Reason (Boston Love #3)(73)

“It’s Christmas Eve,” I say dumbly. “Isn’t Knox busy with Phoebe or something?”

Parker shrugs as he hands me my black peacoat and a scarf. “Nate doesn’t take time off. He’s a workaholic.” He shoots me a pointed look. “Kind of reminds me of someone else I know.”

“I’m not a workaholic,” I protest.

His brows lift.

“Okay, so I keep busy.” I shrug and slide my arms into my coat. “Is that such a crime, Mr. CEO?”

“No — not technically illegal, just heavily frowned upon.”

I roll my eyes.

He reaches over and starts doing up the buttons on my coat, which is such a boyfriend-like task it should totally repulse me. Instead all it does is make my insides melt.

Shit.

“Speaking of you being an all-important CEO, don’t you have lots of work to do?” My nose wrinkles as he gently wraps the scarf around my neck. “By my account, all you’ve done for the past few days is watch a Christmas movie marathon,” I tease.

“And given you multiple orgasms,” he says seriously. “Don’t forget the multiple orgasms.”

“I don’t recall any orgasms.”

“An insult to my manhood?” He gasps in outrage. “I’d be worried, if you hadn’t spent all last night crying out my name.”

I laugh. “Oh, that was you doing all that work? I thought it was the other Parker I’ve been spending time with…”

“So much evil in such a small package.” He grimaces. “Are your other boyfriends also worried you’ll kill them in their sleep?”

“What other boyfriends?” I scoff… and then proceed to turn beet red as I realize I’ve just admitted he’s the only man in my life. “I mean— that came out wrong,” I protest, watching a shit-eating grin light up Parker’s entire face.

“Oh, no, Zoe.” His eyes are bright with humor and happiness. “It’s too late. You can’t take it back now.”

“Yes, I can.” My voice is a grumble. “In fact, that’s exactly what I’m doing. I’m taking it back.”

“Nope.” He grabs my hand and places it over his heart. “I already know the truth. We’re dating.” His eyebrows waggle. “Exclusively.”

“Gross.”

“Do you want to wear my letterman’s jacket?”

“I’m going to vomit.”

“Should I buy you a corsage?”

“Seriously. Gagging.”

“Okay, no corsage.” He laughs. “Just the matching tattoos, then?”

“Seriously.” I fight the urge to stomp my foot. “Let it go, Parker. Let it go.”

“Hey, Elsa, don’t quote Frozen to me unless you’re prepared to listen to the entire soundtrack in my car on the way to Seaport.”

I stare up at him. “I’m not sure whether I should be disturbed or turned on by the fact that you know all the words to Let It Go.”

He grins. “Definitely turned on.”

“Downloaded in your iTunes library, no doubt.” I shake my head. “This is nearly as disturbing as the time I learned the song A Whole New World from Aladdin is a metaphor for mind-blowing sex.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I can open your eyes? Lead you wonder by wonder? Over, sideways, and under?” I snort. “Come on. That’s basically soft-core porn.”

“Thank you, Zoe, for ruining a beloved Disney classic for me.”

“Anytime.”

“For the record…” He trails off.

I wince, anticipating the worst. “What?”

“I’ll take you on my magic carpet ride any time you want, snookums.”

“Pass.”

“So, that’s a no on rubbing my lamp then?”

“You know, I think I’ll just find my own way to Nate’s…” I turn and start walking to the elevator.

“Oh, come on.” Parker twines his fingers with mine and pushes the call button, humming under his breath. “I’m a genie in a bottle, baby, gotta rub—”

“AH!” I stare at him in horror as the elevator arrives. “So help me god if you start singing vintage Christina Aguilera lyrics right now, I will murder you with my bare hands.”

“With these dainty things?” He grabs one and pulls it to his lips, depositing a quick kiss in the center of my palm as we walk onboard.

I use my free hand to flick him in the temple.

“Ow!” He drops my hand and rubs at the spot I flicked. “What was that for? Christina, Aladdin, or Frozen? I’d like to narrow it down, so I know what most annoys you, in the future. It’s still a bit of trial and error when it comes to driving you totally nuts in the shortest amount of time.”

“I hate you.”

“Keep telling yourself that, darling.” He pulls me close and kisses me softly. “I hate to break it to you, but I’m not buying what you’re selling.”

My lips move under his, returning his sweet kiss, and I try to muster up some kind of protest. Funnily enough, as his tongue sweeps into my mouth, I can’t think of a single thing to say to contradict his words.