All I Want(34)

Grinning, Parker said to Zoe, “A minute?”

“Oh,” she said. “Um, sure.” She followed him into the kitchen, twisting her hair up as she went.

She still smelled like syrup.

Parker did his best not to lean in and lick her like a Tootsie Pop.

“What is it?” she asked, smoothing down her dress. “Do I look okay?”

“Sure. If you’re going to that bingo night we talked about.”

She stilled and stared at him, and then looked down at herself. “I just figured since this dress never went out on the date with the dentist that it was okay to wear again. Some people like this dress, you know.”

He watched Oreo sniff at the dress, leaving a fairly significant drool stain. “You’re absolutely right,” he said. “You should wear that dress.”

She glared at him. “You don’t want me to look good on my date.”

Give the woman a prize.

“I’ll have you know that I wore this dress to Wyatt’s birthday dinner last month and he liked it,” she said defensively.

“Because he isn’t interested in banging you.”

She stared at him. “I really hate it when she’s right.”

“Who?”

“Darcy. Argh, I don’t have time to change.”

“Yes, you do.” This was Joe’s voice, coming through the double doors to the living room.

Zoe crossed to them and yanked them open, revealing Joe standing there, bent a little, like maybe he’d been peeking in the crack.

He straightened quickly, but apparently Zoe had bigger fish to fry. “You don’t like the dress, either?” she demanded.

Joe hesitated.

“Well?”

He grimaced. “If I say no, are you going to back out of the date?”

“Do you want to bang me?” she asked instead of answering.

Joe’s eyes slid to Parker. “Uh . . .”

“Oh, I’m sorry, is that a difficult question?” Zoe asked him.

Much as Parker was enjoying this, he was actually starting to feel a little sorry for Joe.

“Okay, yeah,” Joe said manfully. “Sometimes I want to bang you. When you’re not being mean.”

Zoe sighed and picked up her purse from the table. “Let’s just go.”

“So . . . you’re not changing?” Joe asked, a little crestfallen.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“It’s just that I really like your jeans,” Joe said. “Especially the ones that kinda slide down a little bit when you bend over. Maybe you could—”

“We leave right now or not at all,” she said.

Joe blew out a breath and gestured her out ahead of him.

Zoe started to go and then glanced back at Parker, her expression a little . . . regretful?

No, that couldn’t be right. And besides, why would she feel bad about leaving him behind? They had no dating in their future, and he would be leaving soon enough, going back to his fast-paced, crazy world. He smiled at her. “Don’t drink and drive,” he said. “Use your seat belts, and text if you’re going to be out past curfew.”

Worked like a charm. The regret vanished from her eyes as she turned away, flipping him off behind her back as she left.





Thirteen




Parker had laughed at Zoe’s good-night finger gesture, but once she’d left, the house seemed . . . quiet. Empty of its life force. At his feet, Oreo plopped to the floor and huffed out a crestfallen sigh, setting his head on Parker’s foot with a thunk.

Oreo clearly felt the same way.

Parker cheered them both up with the leftover French toast. Then he opened his laptop to check the cameras, even though if he’d caught any action, he’d have been alerted via his cell phone.

Nothing. No action at all.

Giving up for the night, he took Oreo out to do his business, stopping short at the end of the driveway when he heard the sounds of someone crying softly. Turning, he peered through the dark and found a little girl sitting on the next door porch.

She couldn’t have been more than five. Her dark hair was long and crazy wild around her face. Her eyes were dark and drenched with tears, and the sight stabbed him right in the heart.

She looked so much like his sister Amory had at that age: sweet, guileless, and able to take down grown men with a single devastatingly vulnerable gaze.

Shit.

Don’t do it, man. Just keep walking.

Instead he moved to the edge of Zoe’s property line and called out to her. “Hey, you okay?”

She just cried harder. The front door opened behind her and a woman stepped out into the pool of light created by the porch lantern hanging above them. “Kaylie,” she said with obvious relief. “There you are— Oh honey, I told you we couldn’t keep them when Socks came up pregnant. One cat, baby, that’s all we can handle right now.”

“But the babies, Mama,” Kaylie cried. “The babies are so cute.”

The woman looked up and saw Parker standing there. “Are you a friend of Zoe’s, or do I need to call the police because you’re stealing Oreo?”

Oreo stopped anointing every single bush lining the driveway and sat on Parker’s feet. Parker patted the dog’s big head. “Friend,” he said. “Parker James.”