Play to Win (8 page)

We didn't speak, but I didn't mind. I was too tired to talk and there was a lot rolling through my head. So much had happened in the past few days. I'd thought I was done with both Parker and Ryker and now they were back in my life, along with Natalie and whatever she was up to. I could vividly picture the way she'd looked at Parker and it made me deeply uneasy. Add to that someone trying to kill both my dad and me…well, a shot of scotch sounded like just the thing.

Parker must've read my mind, because once we'd entered his apartment, that's the first thing he did. After pouring an inch of amber liquid into two cut-crystal glasses, he handed one to me.

“Cheers,” he said, clinking his glass against mine, then downed the scotch in one swallow.

I did the same, the liquid burning like fire. I coughed, trying to get air past the inferno inside my throat. Parker's scotch made taking a shot of vodka look like sipping white zinfandel.

“You all right?” He slapped me on the back a few times as I finished choking on air. “Maybe should've gone a little slower on that.”

I couldn't yet speak so I shot him a look.
Ya think?
He chuckled, the corner of his mouth twisting upward.

“So I have this theory,” he said, grabbing the bottle and refilling his own glass.

“About what?” I sounded three-pack-a-day and cleared my throat again, hoping the liquor hadn't done permanent damage. Glancing behind me, I sank onto Parker's soft leather couch with a sigh. My whole body thanked me.

“About us.”

Shit. Not a topic of conversation I wanted to address right now.

“Do you want to hear it?” he asked.

Not really.
“Do I have a choice?”

“I think that you wanted me…so long as I didn't want you.”

I stared at him, my mouth hanging open. He watched me, calmly sipping his scotch. Finally, I found my voice.

“You've got to be kidding me,” I growled. “Do you have any idea how insulting what you just said to me was?”

“I'm not trying to insult you,” he said. “I think you're afraid. Wanting something unobtainable is safe, isn't it? Then you don't really have to face the choices and changes and commitments that come with loving someone and them loving you back.”

“How about it's the fact that you never looked at me twice until Ryker came along? You tell me you love me, make love to me, all in the heat of thinking Ryker wanted me, too. Then you dumped me, then decided you'd made a mistake, then I thought you were dead. And now Natalie's back.” I shook my head. “There's nothing about our relationship that I trust right now.”

Parker's face was a blank mask, but his eyes…his eyes burned.

“Do you trust that I'll keep you safe?”

Keeping me alive was a point of honor for Parker and I knew him well enough to know he'd do everything in his power to make sure nothing happened to me. I gave him a slow nod.

“I do, yes.”

“What can I do to convince you what we have is real, Sage? That I'm not being fickle and like a child with a toy, only wanting you when Ryker did. I would've died for you last night.”

Ouch. The man had a point. He'd taken a bullet for me, after all. Hard to argue with that.

“I know, but I can't snap my fingers and make my doubts disappear, Parker. They're there, and I can't tell you a magic formula to make them go away.” I looked away, unable to stare into the blue of his eyes any longer. My own were starting to water. I hadn't been prepared for this kind of conversation, mentally or emotionally.

“Fair enough,” he said, and I heard him set down his glass. “Deirdre left things for me to heat up. I'll stick something in the oven to heat while we get some rest. I'm tired and you have to be about dead on your feet.”

He reached for my hand and I let him take it. I was such a wuss. I couldn't resist touching him, given any opportunity. His hand was big, strong, and capable, and it swallowed mine.

Parker led me to his bedroom and I kicked off my shoes before crawling under the covers. I heard him leave the room and sighed, trying to figure out if I was disappointed or glad that he'd gone to the couch. But before I could decide, he was back, shedding his shirt and climbing into bed next to me. My eyes shot open.

“I thought you went to sleep on the couch?” I asked, eyeing the rippling muscles of his chest and arms. Hugh Jackman as Wolverine came to mind.

“I told you, I was putting dinner in the oven.” He turned on his stomach and stretched his arms underneath the pillow, giving me an absolutely drool-worthy sight of his back. Smooth skin stretched over perfectly sculpted muscle and tendon. His shoulders bulged and my fingers itched to touch.

He was facing me but his eyes were closed, which gave me the luxury of memorizing his face. Perfect cheekbones, straight nose, lush lashes that I would have to use three coats of mascara to duplicate, strong jaw, and his thick chestnut hair, that looked good even tousled as it was. Parker was gorgeous and though I'd seen him nearly every day for almost two years, he could still take my breath away.

And I was in his bed.

Albeit under less than ideal circumstances, but the last time I'd been here, I'd chosen to leave and go to Ryker. I wouldn't be making that same decision again. Ryker was a great guy, but there was no future in the cards for us, not least of which was because my heart was owned by the man doing a really good impression of unconsciousness right next to me.

“Parker?” I whispered.

Nothing.

Wow. I wished I could fall asleep that fast. It took me forever to fall asleep, especially in a bed other than my own…

And that was the last coherent thought I had.

The gentle clatter of silverware and the smell of something spicy and Italian woke me. I stretched, prying open my eyes when I heard someone step into the room.

Parker, carrying a tray laden with the delicious-smelling food, set it on the end of the bed before sitting next to me.

“I know breakfast is traditional, but I didn't think you'd mind,” he quipped, taking a drink from one of two glasses of red wine.

I was ravenous, my eyes glued to the steaming plate of spaghetti and meatballs.

“Where's yours?”

He snorted a laugh and I watched closely. Parker with wine coming out of his nose would be a sight worth remembering.

“I thought we'd share, but there's more if you're still hungry.”

Sharing seemed a little too intimate for the discussion we'd had earlier, but I was too hungry to care. I grabbed one of the two forks and dug in. One bite and I was in heaven. I moaned.

“I love Deirdre,” I said around a mouthful of the best meatball I'd ever tasted. “You should give her a raise.”

“I already pay her an obscene amount of money as it is,” Parker said, taking the other fork and spearing a bite for himself.

“Worth every penny,” I said, scooping more noodles onto my fork.

We didn't talk for a few minutes, too busy eating, then we both slowed down at the same time. Pasta was filling and it was only as we were both twining the strands around our forks that it struck me, and I couldn't stop a laugh.

“What?” Parker asked, looking quizzically at me.

“This,” I said, motioning to us and the plate. “Isn't this like a live version of
Lady and the Tramp
?”

“Are you calling me a tramp?” He speared a meatball and took a bite. There was a smudge of sauce on his chin that I wanted to lick off, and not just because the sauce was so good I'd put it in a slurpy cup if I could.

“Should I?” I teased. “How many women have known Parker Anderson? And I mean ‘known' as in the Biblical sense.”

“I had no idea you were so religious.”

I took a drink of wine but didn't look away, wondering if he'd answer my question. Parker had always been a bit of a playboy. How many had he been with? I didn't know why I cared…it was one of those questions you always asked, I guessed, out of morbid curiosity.

“More than some. Less than a lot.”

I stared. “Seriously?
That's
your answer?” Though I had to admit, it was rather ingenious.

Parker took another bite, still looking innocently at me. “You're the one who asked,” he said.

True.

I was full and the wine had relaxed me. I wanted a shower, though a bath would be preferable. Parker either read my mind or saw my glance of longing toward his bathroom. I knew he had a huge soaking tub in there.

“You can go take a bath, if you want,” he said. “I promise I won't look.”

I gave him the side eye, knowing he was teasing me. As if he hadn't already seen the goods. Not only seen the goods, but touched and licked and kissed—

I cut that off mid-thought. Not going there. My resistance was at an all-time low as it was. But he didn't have to tell me twice. I was in that bathroom and running the water before he could untangle from the bedsheets to help me.

“Stay there,” I called. “I can do this. Have you taken your medication yet? You're probably due.”

“I'm rolling my eyes at you,” he called back.

“I don't care, just so long as you take the meds.” The last thing I needed was him getting an infection.

The tub took a while to fill—it was a big tub—but was well worth the wait. I eased back against the side, letting the steaming water wash over me, and let out a long sigh. Yes, this was what I needed. Well, an orgasm and
then
a bath would've been preferable, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

“Another glass of wine?”

My eyes popped open to see Parker sitting on the edge of the tub, holding two glasses. I sat up with a jerk, grabbing the washcloth to hold over my breasts. Which, by the way, wasn't nearly adequate. It was like trying to cover two cantaloupes with a tissue. Not that I was
that
well-endowed, but damn Parker's bath towels seemed way smaller than normal.

“I thought you weren't going to look?” I asked, indignant. And here I'd been relaxing so nicely…

“I'm not looking. I'm bringing you wine,” he said. “Totally different.”

The look in his eyes told me something else entirely and I had to make myself look away. Parker looking at me with want in his gaze was enough to crumble every defense I had. And sleeping with him would solve nothing, just make things a lot more complicated.

Or so I kept telling myself.

“Thanks for the wine,” I said, taking a glass. “You can let yourself out.”

“We should talk,” he said, making no move toward the door.
Of course he wouldn't leave when I told him to.

“We've already talked,” I said. “I have nothing else to really say about it. Not right now. I just can't do that at the moment.” My eyes pleaded with him. I'd had enough emotional turmoil and anxiety over the past few days to last me a while. I needed a break.

“I meant we need to talk about our plan regarding the hit on you and your dad. But it can wait until morning, if you want.” He stood to leave.

“No, wait.”

He sat back down.

I pulled my knees to my chest, which served to conceal most of my more intimate parts from view. “What do you think we should do?”

“I think we need to call Ryker in the morning, see if they got anything from ballistics or any prints. I'd imagine they pulled security footage from cameras in the building, too.”

I nodded. All of that sounded reasonable. Very
Castle
or
Rizzoli and Isles
.

“Then we need to figure out who would have had a motive to kill your dad. And you.”

“I'd think after so many years in business, my dad would have a lot of enemies,” I said. “But I don't know why anyone would want to kill me. I've just started working for him.” I thought for a moment. “Are you sure the hit was for both of us? Maybe I was just a twofer.” If you can get more than one, why not? But that didn't necessarily mean I was the target.

Parker hesitated. “I know you were a target…because they sent a message.”

I stared at him, waiting. This was the first I'd heard about any kind of message.

He must've read the look on my face, because he spoke again. “They shot Gary. The security guard. Left a note pinned to his chest. Ryker's running it through forensics.”

The water was suddenly cold against my skin and goose bumps erupted down my arms. I stared at Parker, wishing I'd misheard but knowing I hadn't. I shook my head and my lips moved, but no sound came out.

Parker cursed, taking the wineglass from my hand. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I didn't know how else to tell you.”

“I've known Gary for years,” I managed. “He used to give me candy when I came to the office with my dad.” Going into his sixties, he'd been older but hard as nails. A former Marine drill sergeant, Gary hadn't taken shit from anybody. But he'd had a soft spot for the boss's daughter.

“How?”

Parker flinched, but answered. “Shot to death. They surprised him on his rounds. He drew his weapon and got off a shot, but that's all.”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “And what did the note say?”

“It said ‘The daughter will pay for the sins of the father.'”

Well. They certainly hadn't minced words. “Sounds dramatic,” I said, anger forming in my belly. Gary had been a good man.

“So we have to wait to hear from Ryker?”

“No. We could start by going through your dad's files, see if we can make a list. Then we can hopefully start narrowing that list.”

My mind was already working. “Okay. A solid plan.” I was really glad Parker was including me on this. I'd had a niggle of doubt that he'd leave me locked inside his apartment.

I thought the conversation was over, and yet he still sat on the edge of the tub. I raised an eyebrow.