All I Want(67)

The corners of his mouth quirked slightly. “I’ll work on that.” He handed over her panties.

She shoved her feet into them and wriggled them on. Then she attempted to put on her bra, but it took two tries because it was tangled in her blouse. Frustrated, she tugged and tugged until Parker took them both from her fingers, righted everything, and handed them back to her.

Dammit. He was standing there quiet and utterly at ease in his own skin, and why shouldn’t he be. He was smart and sharp and funny and . . . perfect.

And he was leaving.

He was really leaving.

She kept telling herself that worked for her. She always had carried a bit of a trust issue, and she certainly hadn’t been looking for anything with him. But somewhere along the way, she wasn’t sure when, maybe when he’d hugged her silly dog for the first time, she’d started to trust him.

And now, as a direct result, she was falling for him. Only he had this expiration date, one that was flashing big, bright red warning signs at her with every breath.

Knees weak, she sank to the edge of the tub, unable to keep up any sort of pretense of having her shit together. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I thought I could do this, I really did. But I can’t.”

His smile vanished and his eyes went serious as he crouched in front of her, his hands on her knees. “I know,” he said just as softly.

“I mean, it’s good between us.” She gathered his hands in hers and let out a small, watery laugh. “Actually, it’s great. Which is what keeps tripping me up. I get all confused because my body’s emotionally invested and so my brain thinks it should be, too. It’s how I work, you know? But not you, which means you’re not The One. I wanted you to be, but you’re not, and I should’ve known from the very beginning because you weren’t the things on my list that The One was supposed to have. You’re all these other things like sexy and—”

He put a finger on her lips. “I know,” he said again.

She just stared at him and realized he wasn’t going to say anything else. He wasn’t going to dangle a carrot, or try to talk her into setting aside her needs for his.

Or tell her he couldn’t live without her.

Damn. She’d really sort of hoped for that, ridiculous as it seemed. Rising, she dropped his hands and dressed in silence, her throat getting tighter and tighter with each breath.

When she’d finished, he pulled her around to face him, waiting until she met his warm eyes.

“I wanted to be okay with this,” she said quietly before he could speak, and damn, her eyes threatened to fill.

Parker held her gaze. “I’m sorry, Zoe. You deserve better; you deserve someone who can give you what you want for the long haul.”

And that someone wasn’t going to be him. Unable to hold eye contact with him without dissolving into a sniffling mess, she dropped her head to his chest. She wanted to be mad, but he’d been open and up front and honest about their future—or lack of one—from the beginning.

And anyway, he was right. She needed to move on. She needed to go back to her plan. Lifting her head, she looked into his warm eyes and promised herself she’d do just that. She’d go back to the plan.

Tomorrow.

For now, she simply breathed him in before gathering her strength and heading toward the door.

Parker let her go. What the hell else could he do? She’d been so genuine and earnest, so sweetly apologetic, so absolutely positive they had to stop this madness.

It had just about killed him. Because against all the odds, he’d liked the idea of them being a . . . well, them.

But she needed him to stop messing with her. Except he hadn’t been messing with her at all. He’d been as shocked as she at their easy chemistry.

But it was a lot more than chemistry. He knew that now. And yet the reality was that he was leaving, and he had to find a way to do that without further hurting her. That was a priority for him. She’d set the boundaries and he’d honor them.

Even if it killed him.

He could have changed her mind. There’d been a beat there when she’d hesitated, as if waiting for him to say something. And he’d known what she wanted him to say, that this didn’t have to end when he left.

Just as he knew what he wanted to say—Let’s take this thing, this really great, hot, sexy, wonderful thing as far as we can before I have to go.

No, that was a lie. That was what he’d have wanted to say when he’d first arrived. But things had changed. He no longer wanted to go—not that it mattered. His job was his life and he was going back to it.

So even though she’d looked at him like maybe she wouldn’t argue if he made a good case for continuing their relationship, he wouldn’t. She’d been hurt enough in her life; no way would he add to it, ever.





Twenty-four




Parker slept like shit, his dreams mocking him with images of Zoe smiling at him, making his life better just by being in it.

At some point before dawn, he was woken up by a notification on his phone. When he accessed the app, he couldn’t see much in the dark but there was definite movement. Trucks on the go, leaving the ranch just like the other day but more. Like all of them . . .

Shit. He sat up and called Sharon. “He’s moving his stash,” he told her. “He’s got a buyer or he’s going to auction, or maybe he’s been spooked and is changing locales.”