All I Want Read online

  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.”

  She glanced over at him. “She ran away?”

  “Worse.” He shook his head. “She wants to get married.”

  “So young?”

  “Yeah,” Parker said, and scrubbed his hands down his face. “Last time I talked to her, I said she needed to be a grown-up. I think this is her way of showing me she’s doing just that.”

  “Who’s the guy?”

  “Henry. Also eighteen. He’s quiet and shy and utterly guileless. This is all Amory’s doing.”

  When they landed a short time later, Parker arranged for a rental car and drove them straight to Elvis’s Wedding Chapel.

  Zoe stared at it. “You’re kidding me.”

  “It’s where she called me from,” he said. He parked and turned to Zoe, who was torn between horror and laughter. “She loves old movies, especially Elvis,” he explained.

  “Not judging,” Zoe said. “Do you want me to wait here?”

  Parker actually looked uncertain at that. She’d never seen this look on his face before; he’d never been anything but one hundred percent sure of himself.

  Which settled it. She unhooked her seat belt and got out of the car.

  Parker did the same. With his dark sunglasses and a pair of dark jeans with a white button-down shoved up at the elbows, he looked movie-star handsome.

  And tough and impenetrable.

  Unapproachable.

  She walked right up to him. She pulled off his glasses. “Better,” she said, and cocked her head, studying him. “Don’t take this personally, okay?” Sliding her hands up his chest and around his neck, she tugged his head down and kissed him.

  Not one to be a passive participant in anything, Parker kissed her back, hard and more than a little bit rough, and a whole lot desperate. She was breathless when she pulled back and stared into his face.

  Much more relaxed, she decided, and nodded. “Better. You don’t look nearly so intimidating or scary as hell now. You look almost . . . sweet.”

  “You think I’m sweet?” he asked in disbelief.

  “No, I think you’re intimidating and scary as hell.” She smiled and patted his arm. “And okay, maybe a little sweet.” And kind. And decent. And loyal. And . . . shit.

  He was everything on her damn list.

  They walked into the wedding chapel reception area, which was bright white with flowers everywhere. Wedding pictures were plastered across one entire wall. Next to the reception desk stood Elvis.

  In drag.

  “Hubba hubba,” the guy said. “We got a live one, folks.” He grinned at Zoe. “You want your groom to dress like Elvis, too, darlin’, or just me?”

  Zoe opened her mouth and then managed to close it. “We’re not . . . getting married.”

  Elvis sized up Parker. “He not getting the job done? Do we need to put more men on the job?”

  Parker started to speak, but Zoe quickly put a hand in his and squeezed, talking hurriedly before he could. “We’re looking for someone. She’s—”

  “Ah,” Elvis said, understanding crossing his face. “So you’re who they’re waiting for. The two mentally retarded kids, yeah?”

  “Down syndrome,” Parker said. “They have Down syndrome.” He spoke quietly. Calmly.

  But Zoe knew him now, knew the tells, and he wasn’t feeling quiet or calm.

  “Whatever,” Elvis said with a shrug. “They’re inside.” He gestured with his chin to the open door to the chapel.

  Back in charge, Parker took Zoe’s hand and pulled her along with him. At the back of the chapel was one guy. A kid, really. He was sitting on the back row bench, head bowed, but when they entered, his gaze went straight to Parker. With an audible gulp, he stood up and shuffled his feet a little bit, his dark hair falling into his sky blue eyes. “You made it,�