“And in return?” he asked.

  “He walks.”

  Parker let that soak in a minute, but no matter how he looked at it, it sucked for him and his team. “Walks,” he repeated. “As in goes scot-free? Which agency is he doing this deal with?”

  Nothing from Sharon.

  Keeping his cool right then was just about the hardest thing he’d ever done. “What about Ned? Where’s the justice for his death? Jesus, Sharon, this isn’t fair to—”

  “—Nothing about life is fair and you already know that. And there’s a lot about this deal that neither of us knows.”

  He was shaking his head even though she couldn’t see him. “He can’t have died for nothing,” he said.

  “He didn’t. But right now, you have no choice in this matter, Parker. If Carver catches wind of you in the area, you’ll spook him and we all lose.”

  “No, the other agencies lose. Our agency is already up shit creek without a paddle since we had to give him up.”

  “Don’t do anything without talking to me first,” she said. “I mean it, Parker. If you so much as—”

  “Got it,” he said, and sensing the conversation was about to deteriorate even further, he disconnected.

  And then he turned off his phone. She could kill him later. Much later. He tossed his phone down and realized he had three sets of eyes on him. Or more specifically on the peanut butter toast he hadn’t finished.

  “Mew,” said the gray kitten.

  “Mew,” said the tabby kitten.

  “Woof,” said Oreo.

  “Hey, I already fed all three of you beggars,” he said just as his laptop pinged an incoming e-mail from Amory:

  Parker! Loved the pics, send more! And guess what? It’s next week now so what day will you be here? I want to put it on the calendar! I tried calling you but it went right to voicemail. You busy? OMG, maybe you’re already on your way here!!!!!!!!

  Well, hell. Parker e-mailed her back, making sure to tell her that he was not on the way yet but that he’d let her know when. As he hit send, Zoe staggered into the kitchen in another skirt and blazer that made her look like a million bucks, heading directly for the coffeepot.

  “Bless you,” she said when she found he’d already made the coffee.

  He waited as she guzzled the caffeine, and in less than a minute the cobwebs had cleared from her pretty eyes. It was fascinating to watch. She was fascinating to watch. He’d heard her come in at three thirty in the morning and had gotten up to check on her. By the time he’d walked down the hall, she’d been facedown on her bed and out cold. He’d pulled off her shoes and covered her up.

  She hadn’t budged.

  Cradling the mug now, she leaned back against the counter and stared at him like he was a puzzle and she was missing a few of his pieces.

  Or maybe that was just how he felt looking at her.

  “I heard you on the phone,” she said.

  “Did you?”

  “Told you, thin walls.” She sipped more coffee. “Same woman?”

  “Yes,” he said. “My boss.”

  “And?” she asked with a false casualness.

  He took a closer look at her. Was she . . . jealous? Interesting concept, and one he realized he enjoyed the thought of way too much. “And nothing,” he said. “She’s a pain in my ass and I return the favor. She’s currently pissed off about the Carver thing.”

  “Carver?”

  “That’s the guy I’m looking for,” he said. “Tripp Carver.”

  She blinked.

  “What?” he asked.

  “That name sounds familiar. I’m sure I’ve flown a Tripp Carver.”

  He went still. If so, it was proof positive that Carver was really here, or at least proof he had been. “Recently?”

  She shook her head. “I’d have to check the logs.”

  He didn’t want to spook her, or ask her to do anything that would compromise her, but Christ. She’d flown the guy? He thought of everything that could’ve gone wrong and felt his gut clench tight.

  “I didn’t have any problems,” she said. “Or I’d have remembered. The name just sounds familiar, is all.”

  “Okay,” he said, not wanting to make a big deal of it and scare her. “But if you remember details, I’d be very interested in hearing them.”

  She nodded and refilled her cup.

  Not wanting to push, he changed the subject. “You’re not in your pj’s this morning,” he noted, vividly remembering yesterday morning. Hell, the remembering had gotten him through an entertaining shower just twenty minutes ago.

  “Disappointed?” she asked.

  “More than you know,” he said, and watched the flush cross her face. Good. Now she was remembering it, too, the feel of his hands and mouth on her. Her expression remained calm, but the pulse at the base of her throat began to race and gave her away.

  In that moment he wanted more than anything to lay her back on the counter or the floor or whatever surface was closest and finish what they’d started.

  “Are you going to get yourself in any trouble today?” she asked.

  “No,” he said. He’d already gotten in as much trouble as he could. Not that he planned to bother her with that information.

  She looked at him for a long beat and then shook her head.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” She turned away from him and picked up the gray kitten at her feet, nuzzling her to her cheek.

  Parker stood and moved toward her. He took the kitten and gently set her down. Did the same for her mug. Cupping Zoe’s face, he tilted it up to his. “What?” he said again.

  She hesitated. “Listen, I know we’re living in the moment and all that, and I get it. We’re not really friends and you’re not really on vacay. A job is a job.”

  “You think you’re a job to me?” he asked.

  “No. You were a job to me. I flew you, you paid. Just like what I am to you is a convenient place to stay.”

  Maybe that had been the case in the beginning, but things changed. “I’m more than a job,” he said, well aware of the irony of what he was saying.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Then what do you call when I had my mouth on your—”

  She reached out and put her fingers over his mouth, giving one slow, serious shake of her head, though her eyes looked like she was fighting a shocked laugh. “That was a . . .” She appeared to struggle to find the right words. “I’m not going to call it a mistake,” she finally said. “Because nothing that feels that good could be a mistake.”

  With her fingers still against his lips, he growled his agreement.

  “But we both know where we were going with that,” she said.

  “Please say your bed,” he said. “Or mine. I don’t care which.”

  She stared at her fingers on his lips and then jumped when he nibbled one and then sucked it into his mouth. He was gratified to see her looking a little dazed.

  “But it’s crazy,” she said. “We’re not even each other’s type.”

  “I think we do all right,” he said.

  She looked at him for a long moment. “You’re not what I’m looking for.”

  “Ouch,” he said, much more lightly than he felt.

  “You know what I mean. You’re leaving here sooner than later, and I . . .” She shook her head as if she were surprised at herself. “I need more from you.”

  From you. “Not Joe? Or any other guy?”

  She just stared at him. “You feel different. Scary different,” she finally said. “Makes our live-in-the-moment mantra hard for me.”

  Shit. He was such a dick. She certainly deserved more from him, way more than what he could give her. In spite of that, he nearly opened his mouth and said what was on his mind—that all of a sudden he felt damn close to saying fuck the job, he wanted to stick around just to see this thing with her through.

  He’d never felt that way before.

  Never.

  The job was where it was at for him. The job had always been his end-all, the only thing ever waiting for him at the beginning and at the end of every day.

  But damn. He’d miss her. He wasn’t embarrassed about admitting that to himself, either. The opposite, actually. If he was being honest with himself, he was more than a little relieved to know he was still even capable of feelings like the ones he knew he could have for her if he let himself.

  But she was right, about everything. He was leaving. It was what he did. He walked away from those he cared about, and he’d made peace with that a long time ago.

  He’d come here to Sunshine for a job. Falling for the fierce and sexy Zoe Stone was not in the cards.

  Not even a little.

  Okay, well, maybe a little, but he’d be the only one to carry that burden.

  She was still watching him. “I’m trying to live in the moment,” she said softly. “For the moment we have. The three W’s and all that, but it’s hard for me.”

  Shit. He wished he’d never come up with such a stupid thing.

  “Because that’s the way it has to be,” she said. “Right?”

  Pull off the Band-Aid and quick, he told himself. Do it now. “That’s the way it has to be,” he agreed, just as softly.

  Something crossed her face: disappointment? He couldn’t be sure, but he was one hundred percent positive that disappointment was exactly what he felt. As well as the certainty that maybe he’d just messed up the best thing that had ever almost happened to him.

  “In the interest of those three W’s,” Zoe said. “I’ve been asked out on another date for tomorrow night.”

  This hit him like a sledgehammer. No less than he deserved. “Joe again?” he managed.

  “No.”

  “Did the dentist call you and reschedule?”

  “No.”

  His gut tightened even more. “Who?”

  “Kel. He’s a local sheriff,” she said.

  Parker went utterly still as this news hit his brain. On the one hand, he personally knew that Kel was a damn good guy with a solid work ethic and a steady job that wouldn’t take him all over hell and back.

  On the other hand, Kel was also a man. And as he’d already told Zoe, all men were horndog assholes, even the good ones.

  “Is that a problem?” Zoe asked in his silence.

  “Of course not.”

  She stared at him for a beat and then nodded. “Okay, then,” she said, and backed away. “Good. See you later.”

  Parker lasted five minutes before he called Kel.

  “Was just going to call you,” the sheriff said before Parker could speak.

  “She’s her own woman,” Parker said. “She can go out with whoever she wants.” There. He’d said it. Now he just had to believe it.

  There was a long pause from Kel.

  Hell. “That’s not why you were going to call me,” Parker said, rubbing the sudden ache between his eyeballs.

  “Nope. But if we’re talking about Zoe, hell yeah, she’s her own woman. Did you really think I was calling you to ask permission to date her? And more importantly, why would I call you to ask permission to date her?”

  “No reason.”

  It was Kel’s turn to go silent. Then: “You’re a shitty liar.”

  No, he was an excellent liar. Kel just happened to be a damn good silence interpreter. “Let’s stick to business,” Parker suggested.

  “Sure. Right after you tell me what’s going on with you and Zoe.”

  “At the moment?” Parker asked wryly. “Very little.”

  “Okay, then, what do you want to be going on with you and Zoe?”

  How the hell did Parker explain that when he didn’t even know himself?

  “Speak now or forever hold your peace,” Kel warned.

  “I’m just staying here while I’m in town.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” Kel suggested.

  “I want her to find the right guy,” Parker said. “She deserves that.”

  Kel was quiet a moment. “Why do I suddenly have the feeling that the right guy is going back to D.C. soon?”

  “I can’t stay,” Parker said.

  “Can’t? Or won’t?”

  Shit. This discussion was so far out of his league. “You wanted to talk about the case,” he said tightly.

  “So won’t then,” Kel said evenly. “That’s going to cost you the woman, you know that, right?”

  “The case,” Parker repeated firmly. “Anything new on the case?”

  “Actually, yeah,” Kel said. “Hang on.” A door shut and then Kel was back, all business. “I got a call earlier from my ATF buddy, the one who’d originally told me about the possible militia connection.”

  “And?”

  “And that’s been confirmed. So has FBI and Homeland Security interest. The worry now is that with so many agencies involved, someone’s going to spook them.”

  “How is Carver involved?”

  “Apparently he grew up with some of them but has been gone for a long time,” Kel said. “He’s donated plenty of money to their cause to ensure their loyalty, but he’s still not fully trusted by the general membership. And the rumor is that he’s not trusted for a good reason—that he’s going to give them up.”

  Parker already knew some of this but it corroborated with what Sharon was worried about, and none of it was good news. In fact, it was the opposite of good news. A spooked militia meant that they’d move, and if they moved, that meant so would Carver. He could vanish again and everyone would lose.

  A half hour after Zoe went off to work, Parker got a text from her.

  I flew Tripp Carver and two others to Coeur d’Alene and back six weeks ago. He paid cash. The next day I picked up two men in Coeur d’Alene and flew them back to Sunshine and Carver paid for that flight as well. Devon has flown him twice since then, same route.

  Parker stared at the text. He wasn’t surprised. The Sunshine Airport was the only small airport for five hundred miles. It saw a lot of traffic for its size.

  Not much scared him, but the Butcher having been so close to Zoe? That scared him to the bone. He told himself that Carver had no way of knowing Parker was here in Sunshine or his relationship with a woman that Carver had paid as a pilot.

  Zoe was in no danger from Carver.

  But he still hated it.

  The next night Zoe stood in her bedroom in her bra and panties staring at her closet, confused. Something was different and it wasn’t the two wild kittens rolling across her floor.

  Then she realized what it was. For months, the lightbulb in the closet had been burned out. She’d replaced it twice but it still never worked.

  It was working now.

  Her throat tightened a little, which was ridiculous. So he’d fixed it for good, so what?

  Except . . . she’d known the man just over a week and yet she felt like he knew her better than anyone else ever had.

  But there’d be no crying over the spilled milk. He’d made his feelings clear. He wanted her. But only in the moment. Period.

  It was true that disappointment had been sitting like a slug in her gut ever since, but she had to move past that right now. Even if when she’d gotten home last night from work they’d talked about Carver and she knew Parker was far more worried about her than he’d let on. She’d promised not to fly the guy again and to let Parker know if she saw him or any of his men at the airport.

  But for now, Kel would be here in five minutes and she had other problems. She’d tried on everything she owned. Not because she was worried about pleasing him. Kel was a great guy: smart, kind, funny, good looking . . . But it wasn’t the sheriff she was thinking of while staring into her closet.

  Nope. She wanted to pick something to wear so that when she paraded down the stairs and out the front door past Parker, his jaw dropped to the floor.

  And not in a she’s off to bingo way.

  She pulled on her little black dress. She’d bought it on a whim last year after she’d had the flu and lost five pounds in one weekend. She had some really great high-heeled strappy booties to go with it, too. By the time she’d shoved herself into everything, it took her a moment to recognize the woman in the mirror.

  “What do you think?” she asked her audience.

  The kitties just kept attacking each other. Oreo, square in the middle of the bed, lifted his head and smiled sleepily at her, his tail thumping on the blankets.

  “Nice, but you like everything,” she said, and snapped a selfie, texting it to Darcy with: too much?

  Darcy immediately responded with a phone call. When Zoe answered, all she heard was a wolf whistle.

  Zoe let out a low laugh. “Yeah?”

  “Oh yeah. So did you finally decide to jump Parker’s bones?”

  Butterflies erupted in Zoe’s stomach. “No,” she said, hopefully more firmly than she felt. “Tonight’s my date with Kel.”

  There was a beat of silence.

  “What the hell does that mean?” Zoe asked.

  “I didn’t say anything,” Darcy said.

  “Your silence spoke volumes. You’re the one who suggested this date with Kel.”

  “Yes, and don’t get me wrong, Kel’s a hottie, but . . .”

  “But what?” Zoe asked.

  “Well, my money was on Parker,” Darcy said. “What happened?”

  “My closet light is fixed,” Zoe said.

  “Huh?”

  Zoe shook her head. “Never mind.”

  “You two have all that very serious chemistry.”

  They did. They had so much chemistry that he melted Zoe’s bones whenever they were in the same room and sometimes even when they weren’t. “He’s not an option for a viable relationship,” she said.

  Darcy was silent again. “We’re talking about a date, Zoe, and if you’re very lucky, also some great sex—not a marriage proposal.”

  “You don’t understand,” Zoe said.

  “What is it I don’t understand? That women have needs? The fact that you’re trying to get yourself a life? That you finally realized you need stuff for your own outside of me and Wyatt? I love that, Zoe. For so long, for too long, you let Wyatt’s and my life come ahead of yours. It’s your time, babe, and you’re looking the part tonight. Just . . .”