He had to tell her the truth. But as he glanced at his phone and read her email for the hundredth time, he couldn’t help but question his decision.
What if he didn’t tell her the truth? Lynn didn’t have to know Shotelle had hired them—now that the job was over, there was no way she’d ever find out. Not unless Shotelle said something, but Parker doubted that would happen. Not many men wanted to admit to their girlfriends they couldn’t even plan their own dates.
“Why, oh why are you frowning?” Dean appeared in the doorway with a cup of coffee in one hand and a half-eaten chocolate croissant in the other. “After last night, you should be grinning from ear to ear. I know I am.”
Parker leaned back in the armchair and raked both hands through his hair. “I was thinking about how to tell Lynn the truth.”
Dean looked startled. “You mean that we knew who she was before we hooked up with her?”
He nodded.
The conversation paused. Dean stuffed the rest of his croissant in his mouth and chewed rapidly as he headed for the second armchair. He plopped down, swallowed, and fixed Parker with a stern look.
“Do you still want to date this woman?”
“You know I do.”
“Then you can’t tell her.”
Uncertainty washed over him. “Ever?”
Dean took a quick sip of coffee, thinking it over. “Not saying that. You can tell her at some point. Just not now.”
“No?” He rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on.
“No.” When he caught the reluctant expression on Parker’s face, Dean heaved out a sigh. “Okay, look. Remember that op in Paraguay?”
He nodded.
“And do you remember how three hours before we went wheels-up, Commander Tate told us Jenson’s sister had died in a car accident?”
“Where are you going with this?” Parker said warily.
“So the CO asked us not to say anything to Jenson because he didn’t want the guy distracted in the middle of a hairy mission.”
“Kenny took two bullets to the leg during that op!”
“Yeah, and he was focused and alert—imagine how much worse it would’ve been if he was distracted. And then he spent three months in that army hospital and hooked up with his physical therapist, and now they’re married with four kids.”
Parker’s guilt had been temporarily swallowed by the rising urge to shake Dean until he made sense. “This analogy isn’t doing it for me, bro.”
Impatience filled Dean’s dark gray eyes. “Okay, I’ll talk slower so your dumb ass can understand me. Right now, Lynn only knows you as the guy she fucked. And let’s face it, most guys are assholes. So if she finds out you met her under less-than-honorable pretenses there’s a ninety-nine percent chance she’ll never want to see you again. I.e., if Jenson had been killed during the op.”
Dean crossed his arms and paused for emphasis, until Parker finally rolled his eyes and said, “Go on, Master.”
“Now, if you wait a little bit, let Lynn get to know you and see what a stand-up, non-asshole you are, then when you tell her the truth, your chances of getting dumped are reduced drastically. It might still happen—i.e. Jenson getting hit in the leg—but you might still be able to work things out. As in, Kenny Jenson meeting the woman of his dreams in the hospital and putting four babies in her.” Dean cocked a brow. “Do you understand, or should I repeat myself?”
He sighed. “No, I feel ya.”
And as annoying as it was to admit it, Dean had a point. A convoluted one, sure, but it made sense. If Lynn got to know him, she’d see he was a good guy and would probably forgive him for his deception. But if he told her the truth now, she’d never get to know him, and he’d never get the chance to be forgiven.
“You’re right,” Parker grumbled.
Jack chose that exact moment to wander into the office, and his jaw promptly hit the floor.
“Sweet baby Jesus. Do my ears deceive me, or did you really just tell Colter that he’s right about something?”
“He made a good case,” Parker admitted grudgingly.
Jack hopped up on the desk and tilted his head. “Okay, I’ll bite. What was he right about?”
Parker was about to explain, but a sharp rap on the open door interrupted them before he could. He glanced over, surprised to find Didi in the doorway. She wasn’t usually polite enough to knock, which meant there must be a client in the waiting room. That was the only time their eccentric receptionist showed even a smidgen of professionalism.
Didi took a few steps forward, shooting Parker a funny look. “Phil Shotelle is here to see you. He says he urgently needs to discuss Saturday’s date.”
Wait—what?
Parker had been expecting to hear from the man today. He’d even been practicing the “disappointed” face he’d wear when Shotelle requested his deposit back and informed them their services were no longer required because his relationship had ended.
But the ass still planned on going ahead with the date? Even after he’d gotten dumped?