He had no intention of letting her know he was there, but the sight of her soothed an ache he hadn’t even realized he’d had. In the center of her bed she was curled up around Oreo, the two of them huddled together and lit by only the moon’s glow.

Oreo’s nose wriggled. Then one bleary eye pried open. At the sight of Parker, his tail thumped the blankets.

“Stay,” Parker mouthed to him, pointing at the bed, but Oreo, hopeful that he’d brought food, abandoned his mistress and hopped off the bed.

Zoe turned restlessly, reaching out for the dog in her sleep with a soft sound of distress.

Stay the hell away from me.

Okay, so that wasn’t exactly what she’d said, but it was what she’d meant. And then she made the sound again, like her dreams were dark and chasing her, and he couldn’t, he just couldn’t leave her to face the demons—his demons—on her own. Lying down beside her—on top of the covers—he stroked a hand over her arm to her fingers, which he entwined with his. “You’re safe,” he whispered.

He’d made sure of it. There was a watch on this house, and would be for as long as he thought it necessary to make sure Carver kept his word.

Zoe immediately curled up into Parker, pressing her face in the crook of his neck and inhaling deep, like she needed his essence to breathe, like maybe he could chase away all the bad in the world.

And then she made a sound of frustration at the covers caught between them, yanked them free, and wrapped herself around him like an octopus. He was still fully dressed but she wore her pj’s, which tonight consisted of a teeny, tiny pair of shorts and an equally tiny, snug tank top. He had to close his eyes and do math problems in his head. When that didn’t work, he tried to count sheep. Hell, he told himself, think of the job he’d probably screwed himself out of.

But all he could think was that there was nowhere else on earth he’d rather be than right here, holding Zoe. And knowing it, he buried his face into her hair.

“Parker?” she asked sleepily.

“Shh,” he said. “Go back to sleep.”

There was a beat during which he held his breath, but then her arms came around him and she did just that, went to sleep.

Even more amazingly, so did he.

Zoe came awake when her blanket moved and let in the cold morning air.

Except it hadn’t been a blanket, it had been Parker. She opened her eyes as he reached over her to the nightstand and grabbed his phone, which was vibrating across the wood.

He slid his thumb across the screen and listened for a long moment. “I’ll be there,” he said. “Yes, as in today, so stay right where you are. Don’t move until I get there.”

He disconnected and, silent as a cat, slid out of the bed.

He was shirtless and shoeless, wearing low-slung jeans, unfastened.

He looked delectable.

Not that she was going to bite. She might be a little bit slow in the man department, but she did learn from her mistakes.

Eventually.

He pulled on his shirt and met her gaze, something passing over his face. Regret? Whatever it was, it put a hard fist of anxiety in her throat, one she couldn’t swallow down. And it got worse when he grabbed his shoes and started to walk out of her room.

“Did you get called to D.C. ahead of schedule?” she asked.

“No.” He turned to look at her. “I have to go fix a problem in Vegas.”

Zoe tossed her covers back and stood.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

She thought of how he’d held her all night long, a solid, warm, steady presence in a world that had gone a little topsy-turvy on her. There’d been no strings attached to his comfort, one of the things she admired about him and one that also frustrated her half to death.

The three W’s again, which equated to no price. There was no price on their friendship, no price on what they gave each other.

Or received from each other.

“You need to get to Vegas,” she said. “I can fly you.”

His face was impassive, giving nothing away. “I was going to catch a commercial flight out of Coeur d’Alene. It’s not a life-and-death kind of emergency,” he said. “This isn’t work. You don’t have to—”

“Say that again and I’ll make you fly in the luggage compartment,” she said.

One brow rose.

She knew what he was capable of and that his life should scare her. And it did, a little. But in that moment she felt it was important to stand toe to toe with him and show him she wasn’t afraid of him or his life.

An hour and a half later they were wheels up and she had them nosed in the right direction before she glanced over at Parker.

He was watching her.

“What?” she asked.

“You didn’t ask me any questions, you just had my back.”

She smiled a little grimly. “You’ve certainly had mine enough times.”

He held her gaze. “This trip is personal,” he said.

Trying not to react to that even though it hurt, she nodded and kept her gaze straight ahead in flight. “So you said.”

“No.” He put his hand over hers. “I just meant it’s not my job. And because it’s not, it’s going to be tricky.”

She found a laugh. “In case you haven’t noticed, Parker, life is tricky.”

He let out a wry smile. “Not at work, it’s not.”

“Are you kidding me?” she asked with more than a whisper of incredulous disbelief. “You were nearly shot yesterday. You’ve been run over by a truck!”

“I’m talking about emotionally tricky,” he said. “At work, things are black or white.”

She paused. “So you’re saying that work is easier than real life?”

He let out a low, wry laugh that was answer enough.

She’d always known his stance. He’d never been anything but honest about that. Which meant she had no one to blame for her heartbreak but herself. But she really wished she had some of Manda’s muffins.

“Zoe—”

“Don’t,” she said quietly, and took a deep breath past the pain in her damn heart. The damn heart she’d told not to get involved.

He opened his mouth but she shook her head, sending him her best death glare. “I mean it, Parker. I’ll pull this plane over and kick your ass out.”

The look on his face said he wished things were different, and for just a second she allowed herself to believe it. But in the end, it didn’t matter what he was thinking. If he truly wanted something, he’d make it happen. That was who he was.

“Different subject,” he said a few minutes later. “I told you this trip was personal. Before you jumped to conclusions and decided I was shutting you out, I was about to tell you that I meant personal as in personal to me. It’s about my sister. Her name is Amory. She’s eighteen and flexing her independence muscles for the first time. Problem is, she’s a bit of a wild spirit and hard to contain. People love and adore her, but she doesn’t always understand the real world.”

Surprised at this unsolicited glimpse into his world, Zoe glanced at him. “She lives in Vegas?”

“No,” he said. “She lives with my parents. She took a bus to Vegas from Arizona.”