The Next Best Thing (Gideon's Cove #2)(54)

I fiddle with the hem of my pajama top. “Well, what guy doesn’t love no-strings sex?” I mumble.

“I suppose that’s true,” she agrees. “But rubbing Ben-Gay into each other’s achy joints fifty years from now has its own appeal, too.”

I chug the rest of my too-good coffee, then set the mug down. “You’re a fine one to talk,” I say, my voice mild. “What about you two? I thought you were talking about getting back together.”

Parker tips her head back and smiles. “Interesting that you should ask. He came over one night last week, right? We all had dinner together, then we got Nicky to bed.” She takes a sip of coffee, and my toes curl in hard, waiting for the rest of the story.

“Do go on,” I say.

“Mmm-hmm. So there we were, just Ethan and me, and I said, ‘Okay, Eth, you ready? Let’s give it a shot.’ Then I kissed him. And he kissed me back.”

My stomach clenches. Gorgeous blonde Parker Harrington Welles, five-foot-eight inches, built like Heidi Klum. I can just see them kissing, Ethan’s gorgeous hands cupping Parker’s face, the gentle scrape of his beard against her skin, the heat from his body…

Realizing that Parker is waiting for me to rejoin the conversation, I ask, “And? How was it?”

“Oh, Lucy, it was…” She pauses, lifting a silken eyebrow to torture me. “It was gross. Like kissing my brother.”

The breath I wasn’t aware I was holding whooshes out. “Really?” My voice is incredulous.

She laughs. “Yeah. I don’t know.” She stares at her coffee cup. “When we were together way back when, it was all fun and games, you know? And I have fond memories of those times, Lucy, fond memories.” She grows serious. “But all these years of platonics and being grown-ups and sharing Nicky…I don’t know. The chemistry’s gone. We ended up playing Scrabble.”

A warm rush of satisfaction fills my stomach, much to my shame. “What about Doral-Anne? I know she’s interested in him.”

“The Starbucks chick?” Parker asks. I nod. “Jeesh, I don’t think so. He mentioned her once or twice…I think she wants a job with International or something.”

“Or something is right,” I say, staring out the window.

In the tradition of adoring the ones who hate them, my cat jumps up on Parker’s lap, only to be forcibly ejected. Deeply wounded, Fat Mikey reacts in typical fashion, which is to say, he lifts his leg and begins licking his gen**als.

“Lucy,” Parker says hesitantly, “can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” I answer, not sure at all.

“Why not Ethan? Seriously.”

My stomach twists. Should’ve seen that one coming. “Well, here’s the thing,” I say slowly. Fat Mikey leaves his grooming and rubs his head against my ankle, and I appreciate the comfort. “Ethan’s…” I swallow. “He’s Jimmy’s brother. That matters.”

“But you could get past that, right? You got past it enough to sleep with him.”

I nod. “Yes, I did.”

“So it’s not just that.” Her beautiful eyes are kind.

“Right again,” I whisper, then clear my throat. “Ethan…Ethan could do some serious damage, you know what I mean?”

“Why would he damage you? He cares about you, Lucy. You must know that.”

“He’s been a prince, I know that. But, jeez louise, Parks,” I blurt. “What if I fell for him? Really let myself just…love him? What if we did get together and I loved him and he left me?”

“Well, I just don’t see—”

“What if he died?” I interrupt. “What if I really am a Black Widow and I kill another Mirabelli boy, huh? What if one of those stupid things he does killed him? What if he got into a motorcycle accident? What if some idiot was driving over the Newport Bridge in a U-Haul and didn’t see him and hit and crushed him? Or sent him right through the railing and over the edge and he broke every bone in his body and sank like a rock? What if he was out sailing and the boom swung around and hit him in the head and sent him overboard and he drowned, or he was treading water, waiting for help, but a shark came up and ate him and we only found out because his leg washed up on shore?”

“Not that you’ve ever pictured any of this, of course,” Parker says dryly.

“Did you know he took some corporate idiot skydiving last year, Parker?” I demand, my voice rising. “He jumped out of an airplane! What if his chute didn’t open? What if the lines got tangled? And that stupid helicopter skiing, they drop you off at the top of a mountain that’s so high you can’t get to it another way, and what if—”

“Okay, okay, stop. Honey. Stop. You’re getting hysterical.” She gets up, and in a rare gesture of affection, puts her hand on my shoulder, then moves to refill her mug with the traitorous coffee. “First of all, Ethan’s not doing those things so much anymore.”

I don’t answer.

“And secondly, Jimmy didn’t do any of those things, did he? And he still managed to die.”

My eyes fill. “Good point.”

She sits back down and contemplates me. “You haven’t said the big one yet. The big what-if.”