One Good Reason (A Boston Love Story Book 3) (15 page)

“So there
is
a guy.” Phoebe claps excitedly. “Who is he?”

“Did you hear anything I just said?” I ask incredulously.

“Would we know him?” Gemma pesters.

Well, you do share DNA with him…

I gulp my drink and fling my hand in the general direction of the couches, where I saw the Three Stooges sitting not too long ago. “It’s more likely I’d fall for
that
guy over there than actually find true love.”

“That guy?” Gemma asks.

I nod and take another sip.

“You sure?”

I glance at her and find she’s smiling
huge
. “Yeah, Moe—”

“You mean
Parker
,” Phoebe corrects, laughing. “Our brother.”

I snort whiskey through my nose. “
What
?”

“You said
the guy over there
and pointed…” Gemma’s voice drops to an amused whisper. “That would be our brother.”

My gaze flies toward the place I just pointed and, sure enough, I see Parker’s familiar broad shoulders striding through the archway from the kitchen, a Christmas sweater even uglier than Phoebe’s covering his muscular chest — emerald green with two red embroidered ornaments on the front, accompanied by the word
BALLS
in elaborate, glittery cursive.

Where the hell do they find these sweaters?

I’m still spluttering like a fool, the alcohol stinging my sinuses, so Shelby smacks me on the back in a helpful show of support.

“You okay, Zoe?” She hits me straight between the shoulder blades. “You’re white as a ghost.”

“I’d be better—” I gasp. “—if you’d stop—” I wheeze. “—fucking
hitting
me.”

“She’s fine,” Shelby announces, grinning. “Just having difficulty breathing over your hot-as-shit brother.”

“Ew!” Gemma and Phoebe whine simultaneously.

Finally catching my breath, I look up in time to see something that makes my throat feel a bit too tight. Parker’s leggy receptionist, Patricia, enters the room just after him, grabs hold of his arm, and pulls him to a stop beneath the mistletoe hanging in the wide archway. Before he can react, she pops up onto her tiptoes and lays a kiss on his cheek.

An ugly feeling stirs inside me.

“What?” Shelby shakes her head at her friends. “He’s sex on a stick, without all the alpha-male damage. What more could a girl ask for?”

“Maybe someone who doesn’t get more ass than a toilet bowl at Fenway Park?” I grumble under my breath, my tone murderous.

Four sets of eyes snap to my face and I realize perhaps I voiced my thoughts too loudly.

Gemma’s blue eyes get sharp. “Why would you say that?”

“Wait… do you know Parker?” Phoebe asks, head tilting.

I don’t answer, because suddenly there’s another set of eyes on my face. Eyes I can feel burning into mine even from across the room. Hazel, hot, and maybe, if I let myself believe it… hopeful.

Like maybe he wants me here.

Like maybe he’s happy to see me.

Except he brought a date. A tall, perfectly proportioned brunette who looks like Adriana Freaking Lima.

The thought has barely formed when I watch her sidle up to Parker’s side again and wrap her arm around his. He doesn’t pay her any attention — he’s still looking at me, frozen in place like he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing. And I’m looking at
her
, pressing so close her boobs are laying on his arm.

They’re a perfect fit. He’s funny and charming. She’s perky and preppy. There’s not a single jaded, cynical, damaged bone in either of their bodies.

I don’t belong here. I was a fool to come.

“I have to go,” I say instantly, turning to thrust my empty glass onto the closest table. “Thanks for the whiskey.”

“Wait!” Phoebe cries. “Zoe! You can’t leave, you just got here!”

“We still have to play
pin-the-balls-on-the-reindeer
,” Shelby says somberly. “A time-honored tradition.”

“I’m sorry.” I turn and head for the archway by the front door, as far from Parker as I can get, cursing Luca for dragging me here and cursing myself for actually having hope that maybe I could open up to someone.

As soon as I turn to run, Parker finds his voice.

“Zoe!” He shouts, starting after me. “Zoe, wait!”

I keep moving, leaving the living room behind and rounding the archway into the front parlor. I hear angry words break out behind me.

“Get out of my way,” Parker growls at someone.

“Free tip — when they run away like that, it means they
don’t
want to talk to you.” Luca’s voice is threatening. “She doesn’t want you near her, you’re not going near her.”

“Step
back
.” Parker sounds pissed.

“You have a death wish, rich boy?”

“You have a hearing problem,
Blaze
?”

I picture them up in each other’s faces, ready to do battle at a fucking Christmas party for god’s sake, and my feet falter. My hand drops away from the doorknob and I hurry back into the living room.

“Stop it!” I bark at the two idiots, drawing all fifty sets of eyes at the party to me. “Luca, back off him.
Now
.”

He does — grudgingly. He looks about has happy as a One Direction fan when news of the band’s split broke.

Parker’s eyes are on me as he steps around Luca and closes the gap between us. I backpedal as he approaches, out of the living room, through the archway, until I’m practically pressed against the front door in the foyer. He keeps coming until there’s a tiny sliver of space remaining between our bodies.

My eyes hold his. He’s breathing too hard, looking down at me with so many emotions it’s hard to know what he’s feeling.

“I should probably go,” I say after a minute, trying to catch my breath. “I’ve done enough damage here. I ruined Phoebe’s party – apologize to her for me, please.”

“You’re just gonna run again?” he asks, voice low. “Really, Zoe?”

I swallow. “I have to be somewhere.”

“Where?” He scoffs. “Anywhere but near me, I suppose?”

I don’t answer.

“Pretty strange, then, you showing up at my sister’s Christmas party.” His eyes narrow.

Before I can retort, there’s a sound of commotion — whispers, footfalls, muffled curses — and then the entire damn West entourage bursts into the foyer, all wide-eyed and winded, jostling for positions in the archway, pushing each other for better views. I turn and see Phoebe, Nate, Mark, Chrissy, Gemma, Chase, Shelby, and Luca all staring at us. Nate’s private security boys tower at the back, a head above the rest of the group. Even the Three Stooges are there, peeking around a corner to witness whatever’s about to go down. And Boo is weaving between their legs like a cat, jingling with every step.

“What’s happening?” Chrissy hisses.

“Do they know each other?” Shelby asks.

“Apparently.” Gemma’s voice is dry.

“
Woof
!” Boo barks.

“Parker, how do you know Tink?” Phoebe pushes free of the fray and steps up to my side.

There’s a loaded beat of silence. Parker’s voice goes gravelly.

“
Tink
?”

I don’t look at him. I can’t look at him. I’m afraid of what I’ll see in his eyes.

“Yeah, Tink.” Phoebe sounds exasperated. “The girl who saved my ass, last spring. You remember, don’t you? That time your
only
sister, your flesh and blood, got kidnapped by mobsters?”

He pauses again. From the corner of my eye, I see his head swivel around to look down into my face. When he speaks, the words reverberate from deep inside his chest. “Yeah. I remember.”

I press my eyes closed.

Shit, fuck, damn.

“Well, we bumped into her at that underground fight last night, the one you and Nate didn’t want us going to because it was a quote-unquote
bad crowd
, or whatever. Thank god I never listen to anything you two say.”

I feel Parker move closer. When he speaks, it’s not to Phoebe.

“You’re the one who saved my sister.”

I still don’t look at him.

“But, wait…” Phoebe’s confused. “If you didn’t know she was Tink, how’d you know her?”

Parker doesn’t say anything.

Forcing my eyes open, I muster my courage and drag my gaze up to his face. Immediately, I see he’s not angry. Alarmingly, he looks almost…
happy
. His eyes rove my features with new awareness, like a master thief who’s finally discovered the right combination to crack open an impenetrable safe.

“You could’ve told me, you know,” he murmurs, a hint of a smile touching his lips. “Saved me a week of thinking you weren’t interested in me. My ego could’ve been permanently damaged.”

“Seriously doubt that’s possible.” I counter immediately. “And I’m
not
interested in you.”

“See, I don’t think that’s the case.” He leans in a bit, eyes getting warm. “I’m thinking, if anything, you being here tonight means you’re more than interested.”

“You’re wrong.”

“You could’ve told me how you knew my family. One sentence of explanation would’ve cleared the air.” His gaze is sharp. “You kept it hidden because you were looking for any excuse to talk yourself out of taking a risk on something that scares you.”

“And what would that be?” I snap.

His eyes soften. “Us.”

“There is no us,” I whisper, heart clenching.

“Then why’d you come sailing with me?” he asks.

“You had something I needed.” I try — unsuccessfully — to move out of his space. “You blackmailed me.”

He grins. “That’s not what happened and you know it.”

“Wait!” Phoebe explodes. “Wait just a damn minute!”

We both look at her. She’s got her hands planted on her hips and is glaring at her brother furiously. Nate, standing immediately behind her, looks like he’s trying very hard not to laugh.

“
This
is the girl you took sailing?” Phoebe’s gaze swivels back and forth between Parker and me. “
Tink
is the girl you’ve been talking about ad nauseam for the past week?”

My gaze swings to Parker. I feel my mouth tug up in an involuntary smile. “Oh,
really
?”

Parker looks a little red around the collar — it’s actually pretty adorable, seeing him flustered. “No.”

“You said she was
amazing
,” Phoebe reveals, grinning so wide I’m afraid her cheeks might split. “You said you’d never met anyone like—”

“Enough!” Parker cuts her off before she can reveal anything else, grabs my arm, and yanks open the front door. “We’re leaving.”

“We are?” I ask, arching my brows. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay here? I think Phoebe has more to say…”

He grunts and pushes me out onto the steps. I manage to wave briefly at Luca before I lose sight of him.

“I’ll call you, Zoe!” Phoebe yells as the door slams closed.

It’s quiet and cold out on the narrow landing.

Parker runs a hand through his hair and chuckles incredulously under his breath before cutting a glance at me. I try my best to hold back my own amusement at the situation, but I lack the self-control. A giggle bubbles up my throat and bursts from my lips, and before I know it I’m doubled-over, laughing so hard I can barely breathe. Laughing like I haven’t in… god, I can’t even remember how long.

I’m still cackling like an asthmatic hyena when Parker strides across the stoop, invading my space until I’m pushed up against the railing. His arms reach out and close around the metal rail on either side of me, caging me in so I can’t move.

“You like laughing at me, huh, Zoe?”

I giggle-snort. “Yep.”

He leans in so his front presses against me and I gasp when I feel the length of him, hard and huge against my stomach. I’m shocked how ready he is for me without ever lifting a finger, without doing a damn thing except standing there laughing at him.

“You should know, that husky little laugh of yours is the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” he mutters, eyes on mine. “You keep it up, I’m going to throw you over my shoulder, take you back to my boat, and fuck you until you can’t walk straight.”

The laugh dies on my lips as a bolt of lightning shoots through my panties.

“I’ve been thinking about that mouth since you walked away from me last week.” His lips are practically on mine. “The sounds it makes. The way it looks when it shapes my name. What it’s going to look like when I make you come for the first time.”

I suck in a sharp breath.

“And I am going to make you come, Zoe.” I feel his stubble against my skin as his lips skim over my jawline. “
Very
soon. I promise you that.”

I think I moan a little.

“Still laughing?” he murmurs.

I shake my head.

“Good.” His mouth brushes mine in a featherlight kiss that leaves me craving more. “Let’s go.”

“Back you your boat?” I breathe.

His eyes crinkle. “No. Not yet. We have some shit to say to each other, and if we go to my boat, your powers of speech will be limited to a few choice words. Namely:
harder, faster, please, oh my god, don’t stop, Parker, you’re a sex god.
”

Rolling my eyes at his ridiculously inflated ego, I try to muffle the sound of disappointment in the back of my throat. I’m pretty sure he hears it anyway, judging by the way his hand tightens on mine as he pulls me down the stairs onto the street.

“
W
here are we going
?” I ask, staring ominously at the black Porsche.

Parker’s busy sending a text to someone on his phone while he waits for me to climb into the deathtrap. When the iPhone buzzes and he reads the response on his screen, he smiles wide.

“What?” He looks up at me with warm eyes. “I didn’t hear you.”

“I asked where we’re going.”

“Somewhere to talk. I have things to say, and it can’t be anywhere with a bed. I can’t be trusted not to…” He trails off. He doesn’t need to say more — the heat in his stare says more than any words could convey.

I gulp.

“Um.” Deep breath. “But…
where
are we going to talk?”

“New rule.” He tucks his phone into his pocket. “Humans named Zoe are not allowed to ask any questions for the rest of the night.”

“I don’t accept that rule.”

“Sorry, too late to change it now.”

“What the hell do you mean, it’s too late to change it? You just
made
the damn rule!”

Parker chuckles. “Shut up and get in the car, snookums.”

I shoot him a death glare. “Call me that one more time, and I’m going to start calling you
boo-bear
in front of everyone we pass on the street.”

“Difference between you and me, darling?” His eyes darken. “I don’t care what you call me, so long as we’re not in my bed. When I’m inside you, I want you to know exactly who’s fucking you. I want
my
name on your lips.” His voice has gone deep. “Other that that, you can call me whatever you damn please.”

I suck in a breath and decide now is a very good time to stop arguing.

He leans in. “Any more questions?”

I shake my head.

“Great. Get in the damn car.”

I heave a heavy sigh… and then I get in the damn car.

T
en minutes later
, I feel my eyes widen as he turns onto a familiar street.

“Why are we on Yawkey Way?”

He quirks an eyebrow. “That sounded like a question.”

“Fine. I’ll rephrase.” I sigh deeply. “It appears, Oh Mighty Annoying One, that we are at Fenway Park.”

“Very astute. You’re much smarter than the girls I usually date.”

I elbow him. Hard. “This isn’t a date. And it’s not tough to be smarter than girls who never read anything except nutritional facts on the back of their diet products.”

His grin widens. “Have I told you I like it when you’re sassy?”

“Several times. Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“What
will
get me somewhere? Specifically, to third base?”

I scoff at him. “You’re not getting anywhere near my bases.”

“Zoe! I’m shocked and appalled.” He shakes his head as if deeply disappointed, shifting into park just outside one of the stadium gates. “I was talking about bases on the actual baseball field. You know, where the Red Sox play. Clearly.”

“Clearly,” I echo dryly.

He chuckles as the engine falls silent with a low purr, throws open his door, and rounds the hood to open mine like I’m some eighteenth-century maiden climbing from a stagecoach. Before he can even reach for my handle, I’m out waiting on the curb with my arms crossed over my chest.

“Chivalry is dead?” he asks, brows raised.

“And buried,” I concur.

“Great. Just checking.” He grabs my hand before I can stop him and starts leading me toward the doors.

“I wish you’d stop tugging me around like a dog on a leash.”

“You’re so tiny. I’m worried I’ll lose you in the crowd.”

I glance around at the deserted street. Two days before Christmas in thirty-degree weather, there’s not a soul to be seen.

“Yeah, that seems likely.”

He laughs lowly as we walk along the gated entryway.

“Your snazzy car is going to get towed,” I feel obligated to tell him.

“It’s not mine, it’s Nate’s. And it won’t get towed.”

“This is Boston. Do you know how overjoyed it would make one of the demonic meter-maids to find a car like that parked illegally on the street?”

“Will you just trust me?” He stops and looks down at me. “Can you do that? Just for one night. Trust me.”

I bite my lip to keep in all the bullshit reasons I shouldn’t, all the arguments that I should never leap before I look… and give a slow nod.

“I think I can do that,” I murmur quietly.

His hand tightens on mine. “
Finally
.”

When we reach a small green side door, Parker bangs a fist against the metal grate a few times.

“Jim!” he calls loudly. “It’s Parker.”

Almost instantly, the door cracks open.

“Bro! I didn’t know you were back in the city till you texted me!” The gangly, bearded man in a Red Sox jacket reaches out and envelops Parker in a bear hug. “Haven’t seen you in years! Thought you were off living the dream, exploring the world, banging chicks—” Jim seems to realize what he’s saying, because he turns red and shoots me a bashful look.

I roll my eyes.

“Sorry.” Jim hurries on. “What I mean to say is, never thought you’d come back to the city, after college. Guess it makes sense, though, after all that shit with your dad went down…” He gets red again. “Sorry, sorry.”

Jim has a serious case of word-vomit.

Parker clears his throat awkwardly and takes a step back. “It’s good to see you, man.”

“You too. We gotta grab a beer sometime, catch up.”

“
Definitely
,” Parker says in a way that makes me think he won’t be following through on that statement anytime soon. “So, we all good?”

“Yeah, you got an hour before my shift ends. Just don’t mess anything up or I’ll be in a fuckload of trouble, feel me?”

“I feel you. Thanks, Jim.”

“Nice outfit, by the way.” Jim smirks and punches Parker on the bright green arm of his BALLS sweater. “Not even going to ask why you’re dressed like my seventy-year-old grandmother at a holiday party.”

Parker laughs, returns Jim’s arm punch, then leads me inside. I hear the sharp peal of the door slamming closed as we walk into the abandoned park. I must admit, it’s a bit surreal to be here without the usual rush of crowds. Boston baseball fans are a boisterous lot — it’s strange to see Fenway stripped of people pushing to find their rickety wooden seats, devoid of vendors calling out, “Peanuts!” at the top of their lungs as they cut through the rows, silenced of the strains of “Sweet Caroline” pouring from the overhead speakers.

The field is covered with snow; it’ll be months before the season opens.

“We’re definitely not supposed to be in here,” I whisper-yell at Parker.

“I know,” he says at a totally normal volume. “That’s what makes it fun, Zoe.”

I sigh.

A few hundred steps and ten minutes later, my legs are aching but my eyes are wide with wonder as we step through a door and I realize where we are.

“We’re on top of the Green Monster,” I breathe, spinning in a circle to get the full effect.

Fenway is the oldest MLB park in the country. Her Green Monster — the forty-foot emerald wall that towers over left field — is legendary. Even though I was raised in this city, I’ve never been up here before. Game tickets are too expensive for my meager salary; I can’t imagine how much it would cost to take a private tour.

And yet, Parker made it happen with a single text message.

Laughing like a little kid, I drop his hand so I can spin around unrestrained. I don’t care if I look like an absolute fool running between the rows; I take it all in — the snowy field sprawled out below us, the city skyline to the north, the infamous Citgo sign glowing red and white just behind the park. The stars are so bright and so close, I feel like I could reach out and grab one. Usually, with the stadium lights shining, you can’t see them at all.

“This is amazing,” I whisper into the dark, turning to look at Parker when I’m finally done admiring the view. “It’s beautiful up here.”

He’s leaning against the rail, watching me.

“I admit, I’m impressed, playboy.” I tilt my head and lean back against the rail. “You bring all your dates here?”

He smirks. “Darling, I’m getting the sense that somewhere along the way, you got the wrong idea about me. Probably during your little internet-stalking stint. Allow me to clear something up for you…” With measured steps, he closes some of the distance between us until we’re only a handful of feet apart. “I don’t date. I’ve never dated. I don’t like long-term. Don’t stay in any place long enough to get comfortable, let alone pick out china patterns with someone.” His eyes lose their joking edge. “That tool Jim who let us up here? There’s a reason he was surprised to see me. When I was a kid, I spent a decade looking after Phoebe, looking after my family. There was no one else to do it, so I stepped up; that didn’t make it fun or easy. So, when Phoebe was finally old enough to take care of herself, I didn’t hesitate.”

“You left,” I murmur.

He nods. “And I didn’t ever plan on coming back, once I finally got out. Not for longer than a weekend, a holiday visit, a birthday. Until last spring, when my baby sister was kidnapped…” He glances at me. “I guess I have you to thank for saving her.”

“It was nothing.”

His eyes hold mine. “Not nothing to me.”

I glance away, uncomfortable with the look he’s giving me.

Soft. Intimate. Ultra-warm.

I clear my throat. “Anyone would’ve done the same, if they’d known she was in trouble.”

“How
did
you know?” he asks. “That she was in trouble? I mean… how did you know where to find her? Even Nate couldn’t track her down, and he’s the best in the business.”

I bite my lip and look back at him. “It’s complicated.”

“More clandestine spy shit?”

“I’m not a spy.”

“That’s funny. In my fantasies, you’re always tying me up…” His grin is sinful. “Strictly for interrogation purposes of course.”

I snort. “I’m not a spy, or a CIA member, or any of the heroic titles you keep trying to give me. I’m just a girl with a computer.”

He pauses. “You save people. Help people. Hate to break it to you, but that kind of makes you a hero, Zoe.”

I shake my head, rejecting his words. “No.”

“Fine.” He chuckles. “But I wouldn’t want to be Robert Lancaster right now, I’ll tell you that much.”

My eyes widen. “You looked on my flash drive!”

“Of course I looked on your damn flash drive. You think I’d give it back to you without ever glancing at it?” He chuckles. “I’m blond, but I’m not an idiot. Don’t objectify me… Unless we’re talking about sexual objectification. You can do
that
any time you want.”

I roll my eyes. “Do you ever stop making jokes?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“It’s exhausting.”

“
Liar
. Admit it — you laugh more with me than you do with anyone else.”

“I’ll admit no such thing.”

“Stubborn.”

“Stupid.”

“Ooo, real mature.”

I groan. “You’re impossible.”

“You think I’m cute.”

“I think you have a hearing impairment.”

“Possibly. But I’m gifted in other ways.” He winks. “I could show you, if you want. Though, that particular tutorial would require fewer clothes.”

I make a fake gagging noise. “Thanks, I’m good.”

“I know you’re good. That’s why I’m happy I’m not the one in your crosshairs. Tell me, what are you planning to do to Lancaster? Cripple his computer network? Publicly shame his entire IT department? Harass his secretary?”

At the indirect mention of Patricia, I slide my eyes to his. “I doubt he cares as much as you do about his secretary’s welfare. Frankly, she seemed to recover just fine from whatever
trauma
I inflicted on her during my visit.”

Parker’s grin gets wide. “Jealous, snookums?”

“No,
boo-bear
,” I snap. “There’s nothing to be jealous of.”

“I agree.” Parker’s smile is almost blinding. “You know, Patricia and I have so much in common…”

I go tense.

“Mainly, the fact that we both fuck women,” he adds conversationally.

I let that seep into my subconscious and ignore the simultaneous feelings of relief and embarrassment flaring through me.

“I don’t know why that should concern me,” I say in an uppity voice, when I think I’ve gotten my breathing under control.

“Of course not.” Parker sounds thoroughly amused.

“Anyway,” I say, latching onto a new topic with desperation. “Robert Lancaster is a bad guy. Trust me — he deserves everything he’s got coming to him.”

“I know. Just…” Parker pauses, his tone growing serious. “Be careful with him. He’s a powerful guy, like it or not. You don’t want him as an enemy.”

“Maybe
he
doesn’t want
me
as an enemy.”

Parker’s lips quirk up. “I’ll bet that’s true. Still… just be careful.”

“I’m always careful. Plus, I’ve got Luca to help. He’ll watch out for me.”

The air gets a little tense.

“I’m sure he will,” he says after a very long minute.

“Parker.” I wait until he looks over at me. “Luca is like my brother. My family. There’s nothing romantic between us.”

Our eyes hold for a suspended moment and I can tell he’s reading me to see if I’m being sincere. After a moment, he nods and I know he’s accepted my words as truth. For now, at least.

“So…” I say, eager to change the subject to something less awkward. “What’s the coolest place you’ve ever been?”

He dips his head back to look up at the stars and exhales sharply. “I could never pick just one. Though this place, right here with you…” His eyes find mine. “Top Five. No question.”

I look away swiftly, focusing on the view and ignoring my thudding heartbeat. “You must be about ready to sail off into the sunset, huh? You’ve been here, what — seven, eight months?”

“Nine.” Parker’s voice is thoughtful. “You know, when my shithead father went to prison and the whole damn WestTech empire — an empire I’ve never wanted jack-shit to do with, mind you — was in jeopardy, I knew there was no choice but to come back. And then Phoebe asked me to stay. She needed me here. So I sucked it up and I stayed.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, meaning it. I know how it feels when you’re trapped in a situation out of your control. That cornered, inescapable feeling — it can drive you mad.