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.