That made my chest tight and I couldn’t speak. He smiled again and brushed his lips to my forehead, then he was striding toward the elevators. I watched until he’d disappeared inside.
I glanced into Parker’s office as I turned back to my desk. He was watching me, the expression on his face one of grave resignation, and it pushed me over the edge. Tears fell and I hurried to the restroom to lose my composure in semi-privacy.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Parker drove me to Ryker’s apartment after work and walked me inside. McClane greeted me as enthusiastically as he always did and I had to dodge his leaps.
“No!” I commanded, trying to be as authoritative as Ryker.
The curt reprimand had the dog obediently plopping his ass on the floor, tail thumping as he stared up adoringly at me. I sighed.
“So where’s this meeting of yours?” I asked him, setting my purse on the couch. McClane immediately began sniffing the leather and I watched him, hoping he didn’t think it was an oversize chew toy.
“Actually … here.”
I frowned. “Really? Why? I mean, I’m glad, because I really want to know what’s going on, but isn’t it a bit strange to have them come here?”
“It’s where you are,” he said, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it on a chair. I automatically grabbed it up and brushed a few stray dog hairs from the fabric, then hung it in the nearly empty coat closet by the front door. “Plus, like Ryker said, this place has no connection to either of us. It won’t be on Viktor’s radar.”
I processed this as I let McClane out the back door and refilled his doggy dish with his dinner. Opening the fridge, I surveyed the contents, wondering if Ryker had anything I could scrounge for dinner.
But the shelves were pretty bare. An old pizza box, a few beers, some bottled water, lots of condiments, a couple of eggs, and that was about it.
“Looks like he could use a Deirdre,” Parker said from behind me. He reached over my shoulder and grabbed a beer off the shelf.
“We all could use a Deirdre,” I replied, taking a beer for myself. “Looks like I need to go to the store.”
“I can take you.”
I shut the fridge and turned around, raising an eyebrow. “You’re going to take me to the grocery store? You are.”
“Sure. Why not?” He used the edge of the counter to pop the lid off the bottle, traded me bottles and did the same with the second before taking a swig.
I narrowed my eyes, taking a sip of the brew before I spoke. “Have you ever even been to a grocery store?”
His lips curved in a half-smile. “There’s a first time for everything.”
I couldn’t help a smile back. “Do we have time? I don’t want you to miss your meeting.”
“Trust me, he won’t be here until late. Let’s go. I’m starving.” He took another long drink and set the bottle aside.
Okay then.
I directed him to a supermarket a couple of miles away, feeling a sense of the surreal as I grabbed a cart and started pushing it down an aisle, Parker by my side.
“So this is where food comes from …” Parker said in mock wonderment. I glanced up at him and grinned, his answering smile genuine enough to take my next couple of breaths.
I wasn’t a gourmet cook, but I got by, courtesy of some lessons from the cook we’d had at home since shortly after I’d turned four. Her name was Rita and she’d insisted I needed to learn a few dishes to make when I lived on my own.
I grabbed the ingredients for one of those meals, plus a few other things that I considered staples—real half-n-half for my coffee, peanut M&M’s, and a bottle of wine. Okay, two.
Parker pulled out his wallet for the cashier.
“What are you doing?” I asked. I was digging in my purse for my money as he handed over his credit card.
He gave me a look like I was an idiot. “Paying. I may not come here often, but I’m relatively sure they prefer you to pay before you walk out the door.”
“I mean why are you paying for my food?” I asked in exasperation. The cashier had already swiped the card and was handing it back by the time I’d found my wallet, unzipped it, and dug out my card.
“Because I wanted to,” he said simply, taking the groceries from the bagger and walking away before I could argue further.
I followed him out the door and back to the car, trying not to think of how … domestic this whole scene was. After months of the return to ultra-professional at the office, it was too welcome a feeling, and I realized I’d missed the short time of intimacy Parker and I’d had.
We were almost back to Ryker’s when he asked, “So what did you think about what Ryker said, this job he’s doing?”
I glanced at him, decided to play dumb. “He said he’d be okay, that I shouldn’t worry.”
Parker gave me a look. “You really think I don’t know you were listening?”
My face got hot. “I only use that in emergencies.”