“So wise, in your old age.”
“Old!” He scoffs. “I may be nearing thirty at an alarming pace, but I’ll never grow up.”
“Phoebe said…” I hesitate, not sure whether I should tell him.
His tone is amused. “Phoebe said…?”
“She called you Peter Pan,” I say quickly, before I chicken out.
His eyes get warm as he thinks about it for a minute. “Peter Pan and Tinkerbell.” A kiss lands on the tip of my nose. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like that.”
My heart flips. I bring my mouth to his and kiss him.
“I’ll never admit it if you tell her,” I whisper. “But I like it, too.”
“Don’t worry, darling.” He grins against my lips. “Your secret is safe with me.”
His arms tighten around me and his mouth lands in my hair. He doesn’t say anything else, and neither do I — we don’t need to. He holds me close and hits play on the movie, and I feel something warm inside my chest in a place that used to be iced over with sadness and fear.
* * *
“Shit.” My eyes widen. “Holy fucking shit.”
“What is it?” Parker walks toward me and crouches beside my computer. “You find something?”
I glance at him. “I found the employee medical records. All of them.” I swallow. “If you believe these reports, every Lancaster Consolidated worker is the perfect picture of health.”
“Can you put them all on a flash drive so we can show Nate?”
“Already done.”
Parker pulls me from my seat. “Come on, then.”
“Where are we going?”
“Knox Investigations.”
“It’s Christmas Eve,” I say dumbly. “Isn’t Knox busy with Phoebe or something?”
Parker shrugs as he hands me my black peacoat and a scarf. “Nate doesn’t take time off. He’s a workaholic.” He shoots me a pointed look. “Kind of reminds me of someone else I know.”
“I’m not a workaholic,” I protest.
His brows lift.
“Okay, so I keep busy.” I shrug and slide my arms into my coat. “Is that such a crime, Mr. CEO?”
“No — not technically illegal, just heavily frowned upon.”
I roll my eyes.
He reaches over and starts doing up the buttons on my coat, which is such a boyfriend-like task it should totally repulse me. Instead all it does is make my insides melt.
Shit.
“Speaking of you being an all-important CEO, don’t you have lots of work to do?” My nose wrinkles as he gently wraps the scarf around my neck. “By my account, all you’ve done for the past few days is watch a Christmas movie marathon,” I tease.
“And given you multiple orgasms,” he says seriously. “Don’t forget the multiple orgasms.”
“I don’t recall any orgasms.”
“An insult to my manhood?” He gasps in outrage. “I’d be worried, if you hadn’t spent all last night crying out my name.”
I laugh. “Oh, that was you doing all that work? I thought it was the other Parker I’ve been spending time with…”
“So much evil in such a small package.” He grimaces. “Are your other boyfriends also worried you’ll kill them in their sleep?”
“What other boyfriends?” I scoff… and then proceed to turn beet red as I realize I’ve just admitted he’s the only man in my life. “I mean— that came out wrong,” I protest, watching a shit-eating grin light up Parker’s entire face.
“Oh, no, Zoe.” His eyes are bright with humor and happiness. “It’s too late. You can’t take it back now.”
“Yes, I can.” My voice is a grumble. “In fact, that’s exactly what I’m doing. I’m taking it back.”
“Nope.” He grabs my hand and places it over his heart. “I already know the truth. We’re dating.” His eyebrows waggle. “Exclusively.”
“Gross.”
“Do you want to wear my letterman’s jacket?”
“I’m going to vomit.”
“Should I buy you a corsage?”
“Seriously. Gagging.”
“Okay, no corsage.” He laughs. “Just the matching tattoos, then?”
“Seriously.” I fight the urge to stomp my foot. “Let it go, Parker. Let it go.”
“Hey, Elsa, don’t quote Frozen to me unless you’re prepared to listen to the entire soundtrack in my car on the way to Seaport.”
I stare up at him. “I’m not sure whether I should be disturbed or turned on by the fact that you know all the words to Let It Go.”
He grins. “Definitely turned on.”
“Downloaded in your iTunes library, no doubt.” I shake my head. “This is nearly as disturbing as the time I learned the song A Whole New World from Aladdin is a metaphor for mind-blowing sex.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I can open your eyes? Lead you wonder by wonder? Over, sideways, and under?” I snort. “Come on. That’s basically soft-core porn.”
“Thank you, Zoe, for ruining a beloved Disney classic for me.”
“Anytime.”
“For the record…” He trails off.
I wince, anticipating the worst. “What?”
“I’ll take you on my magic carpet ride any time you want, snookums.”
“Pass.”
“So, that’s a no on rubbing my lamp then?”