Which was why he’d landed here in Sunshine. But all that had been set aside in his brain at the sight of the hot undies.

Now that they’d been stuffed away, he was back to the cookies. Mouth watering, he snagged one. “These smell amazing.”

“Wait!” she cried, and then froze because it was too late, he’d popped the cookie into his mouth.

He froze, too, because it was possible he’d never tasted a worse chocolate chip cookie, not even in the history of ever. He managed not to choke on it, barely. Normally he didn’t care much what people thought of him, but Zoe was kind enough to let a perfect stranger stay in her house simply because her brother had asked.

And also, she was hot and so were her undies, so he very carefully chewed and swallowed manfully when what he really wanted was to spit that crap out. And it was crap. Bad crap.

“So, what do you think?” she asked.

Ah, shit. He hated when a woman asked him that, or anything to do with his opinion, like did her pants make her look fat, or was her haircut okay, or did her cookies suck . . . because deep down she already knew the truth.

He could lie. He was good at lying, real good. But though he couldn’t have explained why to save his own life, he didn’t want to lie to Zoe. “Too much baking soda,” he said.

She tightened her lips.

“You want me to go now, right?” he asked.

She let out a low laugh. “No, I want to throw away the cookies.”

He laughed, too. “Probably a good idea.”

“Yeah.” She eyeballed the tray. “I just wish I’d done that before you ate one and found out I suck at baking.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” he said.

“I swear I’m an excellent cook. I just never mastered baking, is all.”

“Okay.”

“No, really.”

“Hey, whatever you say.”

She laughed again. “You’re . . .”

A dick. An asshole. He’d heard it all before.

“Honest,” she finally settled on.

He met her gaze and there went that odd thing in the air again. Animal magnetism, he thought.

Or maybe not. Maybe it was just him. He had no idea. His woman-radar was off, way off, at least according to his little sister Amory, who was forever after him about “dating” the wrong kind of woman. He’d never had the heart to tell her that he wouldn’t exactly describe his relationships as dating, and he liked it that way. “Don’t have any reason to lie,” he said.

Zoe chewed on that for a moment and then headed through the archway back into the living room. “C’mon, I’ll show you your room now.”

She walked him through the rest of the house, which had clearly been lived in long and hard but, in spite of showing its wear and tear, was just as clearly well loved. The living room was classic Victorian with fantastic original antique moldings and lots of nooks and crannies, all filled with comfy chairs, bookshelves, pictures, and other knick-knacks.

Parker followed Zoe up a narrow set of stairs, watching her ass as they went. It was a very sweet ass, one that even her oddly old-lady dress couldn’t hide, and he went back to picturing some of her pretty lacy things beneath it. Black? Pink? Sheer?

At the top of the stairs she opened the first door on the right. Inside the bedroom was a full-size bed, a dresser, and a comfortable-looking club chair in a corner.

“There’s a bathroom down the hall,” she said. “I’m sorry, but the other two bathrooms in the house are out of commission until I hire a plumber, so we have to share. I’ll need the shower at seven tomorrow morning to get to work on time.”

While he was picturing her standing in her shower, freed from that dress and wearing nothing but suds, she went on.

“The rules,” she said. “We should go over the rules.”

This got his attention. “Rules?” he asked, wondering if one of them was going to be no weapons. If so, they’d have a problem as his job required him to be armed. And since he lived the job, he was always armed.

“No overnight shenanigans,” she said.

He waited for her to smile, indicating that she was kidding, but she didn’t. “Understood,” he said. “Though it’s a damn shame given our smokin’ chemistry.”

She stared at him for a full beat. “I wasn’t referring to you and me,” she finally said. “I was referring to you and any dates you might want to bring home.” She paused. “Smoking chemistry?”

“You denying it?”

She blushed yet again but held his gaze. And her silence. Finally she said, “Also, no dogs.”

Nice subject change. They both looked at Oreo, who’d followed them and was sitting at her feet, panting and looking up at her adoringly. She patted him on the head.

“He’s a rescue,” she said. “And he was neglected and abused by some asshole, so he doesn’t like men. And also there were a lot of mean dogs where he lived. Other dogs terrify him. Actually, everything terrifies him. He’s a nervous Nelly and I want to move slowly with him.”

“He doesn’t seem all that nervous to me,” Parker said.

Oreo farted audibly.

Zoe fanned the air. “See? Nervous.”

Parker laughed. “My guess would be he’s eaten some of your cookies.”

“Ha-ha,” she said. “But don’t be fooled. He can be a real killer.”

At this, Oreo slid bonelessly to the floor and rolled to reveal his belly, presumably for a good scratching.

Parker couldn’t help it; he laughed again and bent to oblige the dog.

Above him, Zoe sighed. “It’s probably because in comparison to him, you smell really good.”

Parker tilted his head back. “Ah, so you do feel it.”

She grimaced. “Look, sometimes things spill out,” she said around her fingers. “Ignore it.”

“Yeah, not really good at that,” he said.

“Then it’s a good thing I am.” And with that she hightailed it out of the room.

Oreo looked torn for a moment but then huffed out a sigh and got up and followed after his food provider.

Huh. He’d come to Sunshine for a boatload of complicated reasons that had absolutely nothing to do with a real vacation or enjoying himself, but he was doing just that.

Three

Parker went outside to retrieve his duffel bag, and while he was out there he received a text from his sister.

Thanks for the pretty mountain pics! You meet your wife yet? I wanna be a sister-in-law!

Parker shook his head. She never gave up. At age eighteen, Amory was a romantic, wanderlust spirit tied to their hometown and their parents in a way he’d never been.

She claimed to be okay with that. She was sweet and naïve and overprotected for good reasons, by both his parents and himself, but she lived for the daily pics he sent from wherever in the world he happened to be. She also lived to try to domesticate him, or at least get him to find a woman to marry.

He put his phone away and went back inside to find a set of legs sticking out from beneath the kitchen sink. Zoe¸ flat on her back.

He crouched at her side. “What are you doing?”

“Napping,” she said, voice muted since her head was in the cabinet. Her dress had ridden up to midthigh. She had a set of really great legs to go with her great ass.