“I’m so sorry you couldn’t stay with us,” Emily said. “My sister’s just back from her honeymoon and they’re in our only spare bedroom.”

“No worries,” Parker said. “Zoe’s house is great.”

“And Zoe?” Wyatt asked.

Parker smiled. “Just as you described her.”

Wyatt grimaced. “Uh-oh.”

Emily smacked Wyatt on the arm. “How did you describe her? As warm and caring and lovely as she really is, right?”

Wyatt slid a look to Parker. “Right.”

Emily narrowed her eyes on her fiancé, and it was fascinating to watch Wyatt grin at her with unabashed love and affection as he leaned in and kissed her on the end of her nose. And then her mouth. “Don’t look at me like that, sweetness,” he murmured. “Zoe’s all of those great things on the inside, but we both know she’s stubborn as hell and easily irritated on the outside.”

Parker laughed at the accurate description. “No worries, it’s been great.”

Wyatt did a double take. “Great?”

Shit. Redirect. “Have you had her French toast?” Parker asked.

“She made you French toast?” Wyatt asked. “She won’t make it whenever I ask, says if she did then I wouldn’t appreciate it as much.”

“I only got her leftovers,” Parker said, hopefully coming across as harmless. Because that was what he intended to be—completely harmless.

Sure, he’d never been harmless a day in his life, but there was a first time for everything.

“Where is she tonight?” Wyatt asked. “I thought she’d come with you.”

“She’s on a date.”

“Oh yeah,” Emily said. “With that really good-looking dentist from Hennessey Flats.”

When Wyatt looked at her, she laughed. “Hey, I’m engaged, not dead,” she said. “I Googled him because Zoe refused to do so. I wanted to make sure he wasn’t a wanted felon or anything.”

“Tonight’s date isn’t with the dentist,” Parker said, leaving out the part where she got stood up. That was Zoe’s tale to tell. “It’s Joe.”

Wyatt choked on his beer. “Joe, the airport manager Joe? What the hell is she doing out with that horndog?”

Back at the house, Parker had managed to shelve his frustration about the date. For one thing, Zoe hadn’t dressed like a woman planning on getting any action. And for another, he’d sensed absolutely zero chemistry between her and Joe.

But after Wyatt’s comment, he realized it didn’t mean that Joe wouldn’t try . . .

Fuck. He stood up and tossed some money down on the table. “Gotta go.”

Wyatt narrowed his eyes. “Gotta go where?”

“Work,” Parker said.

“At . . .” Wyatt looked at his watch. “Nine o’clock at night?”

“My job’s twenty-four-seven.”

Wyatt cocked his head. “You’re on vacation.”

Shit. “It’s a working vacation, as it turns out.”

Wyatt only stared at him, but Emily laughed. When she realized Wyatt wasn’t amused, she nudged him. “Wyatt Stone, he’s your friend and a good man. Be happy for them.”

“Whoa,” Parker said with sudden understanding. “There’s nothing going on between me and Zo—”

“Why, don’t you think she’s good enough for you?” Wyatt asked.

“No—I mean yes!” Jesus, Parker was starting to sweat. “She’s . . . amazing. I just meant we’re not going anywhere with anything. We’re not . . .”

Emily patted him on the hand. “It’s okay,” she said, still smiling. “You’re going to survive this. Tell him, Wyatt. Tell him he’ll survive it.”

Wyatt just continued to stare at Parker.

“Would you rather she end up with Joe?” Emily asked Wyatt. “Or some dentist?”

Wyatt grimaced and scrubbed his hands down his face. “I’m half tempted to let him go storming into her date,” he muttered. “But knowing Zoe, she’d marry Joe just to spite me.”

“I’m telling you, it’s not like that,” Parker said again. And Christ, now he was protesting too much.

“Just sit,” Wyatt said looking resigned. “Because trust me, I’m doing you a favor stopping you from going after her tonight. If you bust open her date, she’ll bust your chops. Zoe likes to make her mistakes on her own. No one can tell her what to do.”

Emily beamed at Wyatt. “Aw. You’re so sweet.”

Parker sighed and sat back down.

And then to prove a point to all of them—especially himself—he stayed out as late as possible so he wouldn’t have to see Zoe return from her date and possibly invite Joe in and upstairs to her room.

Or not return at all.

He wasn’t sure which would be worse.

When he finally pulled up to the house, it was dark and still. He looked at his phone.

Midnight.

Damn . . . The implication of Cinderella not being home wasn’t wasted on him. He heaved himself out of the vehicle and headed up the walk.

He let himself in and out of habit did a quick search of his surroundings.

Definitely alone.

Halfway back through the living room toward the kitchen, he became aware that someone was watching him. Reaching for the gun tucked into the back of his jeans was second nature.

So was checking his surroundings without looking obvious. He heard a sound on the other side of the front door, but either his instincts were seriously off or he was just that fucked up in the head at the moment because he didn’t check the peephole before whipping the door open.

He had a flash of Joe pulling back from Zoe, who fell backward into Parker’s arms. He shoved the gun into the back of his pants and gripped her arms until she gained her balance.

He was ridiculously happy to see her because if she was here, it meant she was not in Joe’s bed.

Joe stood facing them both. Clearly Parker had just interrupted something because the guy was looking frustrated and Zoe was looking . . . relieved?

“Well,” she said quickly, flashing her fake smile—yes, Parker knew each and every one of her smiles and this one, the brittle fake one aimed at the man who had clearly just pressed her up against the door to kiss her, was most definitely Parker’s new favorite.

“Thanks for opening the door for me, Parker,” she said brightly. “Night, Joe!”

“But—” Joe started, taking a step toward her.

Zoe backed farther into Parker, forcing him to take a step into the house or have them both fall to their asses. She waved at Joe and . . . slammed the door.

Parker laughed. “Good to know you do that to every guy and not just me.”

Zoe whirled around to face him, her eyes a little wild as she put her hands on her hips. “What was that?”

“You slamming the door on yet another man’s nose?”

“Not that.” She gave him a look that said she was contemplating trying to kick his ass. She wouldn’t be able to, not even close, but it would be fun to have her try . . . Not that he was stupid enough to say so.

“You followed me,” she accused without preamble. “You followed me on my date.”