The Right Mr. Wrong

Suddenly, she wished she’d been swallowed up by the waters of Sag Harbor. ‘Fine,’ she said, mimicking him. But then her bravery ran out, her voice growing small. ‘I don’t suppose we can find the paddleboard?’

Parker stood, and right away she missed the heat of his skin. He swiped a hand through his hair, leaving it spikier than usual. ‘The board’s long gone.’

Jeez, it all seemed so unfair. Blinking back the tears, she looked across the water. Petrified Parker would see her cry, she dragged her hand across her eyes and sniffed. Another shiver racked her body, and the rustle of clothing brought her attention back to Parker.

He’d taken off his hoodie. ‘Don’t worry about it, Ace,’ he said gruffly, pulling his sweatshirt down over her head.

Her heart soared, both from the touch and the words and the protective tone in his voice. And she’d always adored his nickname for her. She jabbed her arms into the damp sleeves, savoring the heat from his body, the smell of Parker.

‘I’ll take the blame for the board.’ Those too-beautiful lips flattened grimly. A dark look crossed his face. ‘My mom already hates me, anyway.’

A needle pricked her heart, the sharp pain familiar. Ms. Michael was all Reese Reese Reese, spoiling her daughter rotten. But Parker? He barely even existed in the Michael household. No wonder he chose to live with his dad.

‘Thanks,’ she said, hoping she wasn’t tearing up like a baby again.

His lopsided smile appeared, leaving her weak in the knees as he said, ‘Let’s get you home.’

* * *

Parker gripped his whiskey glass.

Amber Davis.

Discovering the redhead’s identity had been like a cattle-prod shock to Parker’s nervous system, his mind reeling with the memories of his youth. He struggled to ignore the beautiful woman who’d trailed after him as a kid, hanging on his every word. His every move. The one who’d witnessed his most humiliating moment.

You were a mistake.

Tossing back the rest of his drink, he tried to focus on his goals for tonight. Avoid his mother at all costs, speak to Reese and tell her no and then get the heck out of here.

Attention firmly on him, Amber asked, ‘Do you remember—?’

‘Yeah,’ he said gruffly, fixing his eyes on his empty glass. No way was he letting her finish that question. ‘I remember.’

He could feel Amber’s gaze, but he needed a minute to adjust. Several of them, actually. Because he sure as hell wasn’t ready to face the lady who, years ago, had found him sniffling like a wussy little girl.

Thank God for his cell phone.

Parker glanced at the incoming number flashing in time with the vibration, answering with his pat ‘What’s up, Robby boy?’

‘Why aren’t you at Rosie’s Bar?’

Parker let out a discontented grunt, longing for the bar that was the watering hole for most of the fifty-seventh precinct. His gaze swept across the elegantly attired guests at the restaurant, the fancy venue most likely chosen for its bird’s-eye view of Manhattan. The only bright spot had been the pretty redhead that he’d known was too sweet and all kinds of wrong for him. Resisting a little harmless flirting had been impossible.

But, man, was that ever a freakin’ mistake.

‘I’m busy,’ Parker said to his partner as he shot a look at Amber.

Creamy skin, wide mouth and eyes the color of maple syrup. Her auburn hair was pulled back in some sleek knot that looked more professional than dressy. If he’d known she was gonna turn into a stunning redhead, he might have actually paid more attention. But she had been all knobby kneed, gap-toothed, with gangly arms and legs. A quiet kid.

A lamb among wolves at the Michael household.

He’d always felt a little sorry for her, a bit protective. Some of that had been drilled into him, to watch over Reese and Amber when Amber’s mother couldn’t. And more than anyone, he knew how it felt to be an outsider in the Michael household.

Now Amber was gorgeous, but there was still a lingering sense of the innocent openness that she’d had as a child. He could see it in her clear, honest eyes, the face that left everything on display. Parker couldn’t remember ever being innocent.

Had stopped believing in innocence long ago.

Gaze locked with the redhead’s, Parker spoke to Rob, who was waiting patiently on the other end of the phone. ‘Trust me,’ he said. ‘I’d rather be spilling a beer with my partner at Rosie’s Bar than at this fancy restaurant.’

‘Get your butt down here,’ Rob said.

‘Sorry, Robby boy.’ Christamighty was Parker sorry he was here instead of there. ‘Got something I’ve got to do first.’

There was a long pause on the end of the phone. ‘This isn’t about the Miller case, is it?’ Rob asked.

Parker’s insides felt as if they’d been hooked to two tractor trailers racing in opposite directions. Shoulders tense, he rolled them back. ‘No,’ he said, careful to keep his voice casual. ‘I’ve done this job long enough that nothing shocks me anymore.’

He knew his partner thought the turn of events had affected him. Was worried, somehow, that Parker was burning out on all they dealt with day to day. But he was more disturbed by the fact that he wasn’t affected. The latest case had taken a twisted turn that most people could never fathom and, yet, Parker hadn’t felt a speck of shock. Zip, zilch, nada.

The hollow darkness surrounding his heart expanded, and Parker refused to admit how much it scared the hell out of him.

Rob cleared his throat on the other end of the phone. ‘I hate that our number one suspect is a teen, especially given his parents are total dirtbags,’ he said.

Parker huffed in agreement. ‘Yeah, sometimes family sucks.’

Eyebrows tenting at his words, Amber frowned.

And as he said goodbye to Rob, Parker let out a sigh and addressed the redhead. ‘You got something you want to say?’

‘Just wondering if you’ve spoken with your sister yet,’ Amber said.

‘Haven’t had the time.’

‘Haven’t made the time.’

As if on cue, a feminine voice

called his name, and he turned to face Reese. She was crossing the hardwood floor in a cocktail dress, her blond hair in a delicate twist.

‘Be nice,’ Amber whispered.

Parker frowned. ‘I’m always nice.’

As Reese drew closer, he slipped his phone in his jacket, bracing for the upcoming conversation. Confronting his sister and telling her no appeared to be the only way to get her off his case. Emails hadn’t worked. The phone calls had been a failure. Seemed the only way to get her to accept his no was a face-to-face conversation.

You can do polite.

But when Reese went to hug him, for a moment he panicked. Freakin’ panicked. A master at deflection, he shifted on his feet, subtly placing his shoulder forward, blocking her attempt. Fortunately she interpreted his body language accurately and abandoned her attempt.

He didn’t do public displays of affection.

He’d learned long ago not to do affection period.

‘I’m glad you came,’ Reese said with a small smile. ‘I hope this means you’ve changed your mind about the wedding.’

Parker bit back the urge to say hell, no.

Now that she was getting married to her supposed dream guy, Reese was suddenly all ‘peace on earth, good will toward men.’ More persistent in her insistence they pretend they were a real family. They lived in the same town and hadn’t seen each other in two years.

Mostly his fault, sure, but still...

‘I came to talk to you in person,’ he said.

‘And to catch up with old friends?’ Reese said.

His sister shot the redhead at his side a curious look before addressing Parker.

‘So...’ Reese said. ‘Are you and Amber setting an appointment time for you to get measured for your tux?’

Parker’s lips quirked in surprise as he slid his gaze back to Amber. She was watching him as if assessing his every move, the beautiful woman’s attention sending a thrilling shimmy down his spine. Amber was supposed to measure him for his tux?

Interesting notion, but not enough to get him to change his mind.

‘Come on, Reese,’ he said, trying to be the diplomat he wasn’t. ‘Can you really picture me in a monkey suit?’