“Jonah, shush,” Maggie and Christy said in unison, then laughed.

“You shush, girls,” he retorted. “You’re both love children, too. I’m the only child Mom and Dad really wanted.” He turned to Parker. “Hi. Jonah, long-suffering brother of the idiot twins here. I’ve seen you out on your dock.”

“Go away, Jonah,” Maggie commanded. The pink-beaded tiara she was wearing was slightly askew. “Go to the boys’ section. This is for women only. Shoo.”

“You two are ugly when you drink.” He bent down and kissed Chantal. “See you at home, gorgeous.”

“Bye, honey.” Chantal beamed up at him and patted his ass as he walked away.

“Disgusting,” Christy said.

“So gross,” Maggie added. “So anyway, you were telling us, Parker, before my brother so rudely interrupted?”

“Well,” Parker said, “let’s say I have this thing for emotionally unavailable men.”

The table burst into laughter. “Please. You have no idea who you’re talking to,” Maggie said. At Parker’s questioning look, she added, “I was in love with a priest.”

“Okay. That’s hard to top,” Parker acknowledged.

“And I shtupped my best friend’s baby brother. Have I mentioned Jonah is thirteen years younger than I am?” Chantal said, smiling. “Cougar, baby. The only way to go.”

“And I slept with a certain married Massachusetts senator whose last name starts with K,” Lavinia said. “Wasn’t really worth the effort, I’d have to say.”

“So how was your guy emotionally unavailable?” Maggie asked.

“It sounds worse than it is, but he was in love with someone else,” Parker said. “And I didn’t figure it out until after Miss Egg and Mr. Sperm met, so I have a five-year-old, and we have joint custody, and it’s all very friendly and civilized.”

Huh. Her second mojito was gone. The last time you had two drinks and Sweet Baby James was around, you did the drag-and-shag, Spike, now in his early twenties, pointed out. Speaking of cougars. Just sayin’.

“So have you dated at all?” Beth asked. “It’s hard to find a decent guy these days.”

“Nope, haven’t really dated. Maybe a first date every few months, but nothing real,” Parker said.

“You haven’t had sex since your five-year-old was born?” Chantal asked, her mouth hanging open in horror.

This was, of course, the moment that James brought another round of drinks over.

“That’s awful,” Lavinia said, shaking her head. “Thank you, James, darlin’.”

Parker didn’t answer. James put a glass in front of her. “Thanks,” she said, not daring to look at him.

“Anything else, girls?” he asked, his voice warm and smiley.

“Would you take off your shirt?” Christy asked. “We didn’t get Maggie a stripper.”

He laughed, and the sound scraped something deep down in Lady Land. Something that liked being scraped. James had almost kissed her the other night. Right? It had seemed to her that a kiss had been possible, there on the dock, before the thunder, when she’d bolted like a scared little baby horse.

Okay. No more mojitos. Who referred to themselves as scared little baby horses? Mojito-enhanced people, that’s who.

James looked down at Parker, who decided that now would be an excellent time to drain that mojito. The straw stuck her in the eye, but she squinted and managed a swallow or two.

“I’ll walk you home when you’re ready,” he said.

“No need, Thing One,” she said sweetly. “I’m fine. I can canter on home all by myself.”

He laughed, and there it was again, that scraping. Meow. “I’ll do it anyway.”

All righty, then. If he insisted. He could walk her home. He was paid by Harry to walk her home, she reminded herself. No matter how cute he was, no matter how smiley were those eyes, he was in Harry’s pocket, and Harry was in jail and not a nice person, and James was here to babysit her and assuage Harry’s conscience. Sex would not be part of the equation.

A while later, the party broke up. Maggie had to open the diner early, Christy’s baby didn’t yet sleep through the night, and Jonah was giving Chantal the look of love, according to her. Parker stood, too. James was nowhere to be seen, but after the sobering thoughts earlier, she really didn’t want to wait. She was thirty-five years old, for heaven’s sake. Didn’t need an escort.

The air was surprisingly chilly, thick with the salty smell of the ocean. The bar had been loud, and as Parker walked toward the harbor, the quiet of the night settled around her companionably. Mackerly was pretty quiet, too, and also surrounded by water, but it wasn’t like this. This was a place where livelihoods were still made on the sea, a town that was remote and craggy. So far, she hadn’t seen any condos or McMansions on the water; the Pines was it as far as it went for posh real estate.

Waves slapped briskly against the hulls of the lobster boats in the otherwise quiet night. In the far distance, Parker heard an eerie, laughing noise; a loon, perhaps, not that she’d ever heard one before.

She fished her phone out of her bag and hit Ethan. Then, before it could connect, she hung up. She’d talked to Nicky three times today, and while she knew Ethan and Lucy wouldn’t mind one more call, it seemed…needy.

And sleeping with James—not that she was thinking about it (cough)—would be needy, too. A lonely older woman who was in the midst of financial ruin and a career crisis should not have a fling. No matter how chocolate lava cake was her housemate.

“Parker. Wait up.” Speaking of cake.

She turned as James loped down the half block that separated them. “Thing One,” she said.

“Miss Welles. I believe I said I’d walk you home.”

“Part of your duties for Harry?”

He gave her a measured look. “No. Just a concerned citizen who doesn’t want you falling into the ocean.”

“Please. I could drink you under the table.”

“That’s probably true. But since we’re heading to the same place, why not?” He grinned, and she looked away quickly.

“Fine. Thank you, James.”

“So were you girls talking about how handsome and strong I am?” he asked.

She snorted. “Little bit,” she admitted. “I hear you and Chantal have a history.”

“She kindly relieved me of my virginity,” James answered. “And I will forever be grateful.”

“You spent summers here, Thing One?”

“I did. A few, anyway.” He hesitated, and Parker got the sense he was going to say more, but he stayed silent as they walked past the little diner, the dock, the harbor itself.

There were no streetlights on Shoreline Drive, and though it was past ten, the sky was just now deepening from indigo to black, the stars brightening overhead. The loon called again.

“So, Parker, any thought of maybe staying up here for a while?”

She shot him a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “You can work from anywhere, right? You have some family up here. You could have the house winterized—”

“I’d never take Nicky away from his father.” Her posture stiffened to Miss Porter’s Finest.

“Didn’t Ethan live away for most of Nicky’s life?” James asked, his tone mild.

“No! No, he traveled a lot, but he was home every weekend. And then he switched careers so he could live in town. We’re five minutes apart.”

“I see.”

There was something in his tone that grated on Parker’s nerves. “Ethan’s a wonderful father.”

“Of course he is. Isn’t my tone hushed and reverent enough? I’m sorry.”

“What’s your problem with Ethan?” she snapped. “I mean, really, Thing One. You barely know him.”

James nodded, then picked up a rock and threw it out into the sea, where it hit the water with a hollow dunk. “How long were you with him, back when you were dating?”

He probably already knew the answer. “A couple of months,” she answered, her tone icy.

“And why’d you break up?”

She walked a little faster. “Is it any of your business?”

“No, probably not. But he sounds so very perfect in every way. It’s a little confusing as to why you didn’t snatch him up.”

“Your dubious charm is wearing thin.”

“He married your best friend, right?”

“It wasn’t like that! I barely knew Lucy when he and I were dating. We only got close after I broke up with him. And I broke up with him.”

“Of course. So sorry, Majesty. Didn’t mean to criticize the Paragon.”

“The what?”

“Ethan. The Paragon of Perfection.”

Well, bugger. She was either going to smack him or—or agree with him. “Oh, look, home sweet home. Sleep tight, Thing One.” With that, she jerked open the front door of the little house, got Beauty and went out the back to go sit on the dock.

She didn’t slam the door.

But she wanted to.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“SO YOU GOT THIS? You can hold down the fort, and all?”

“Sure, Vin. You go. Have a great time.” Parker smiled at her cousin. She couldn’t wait till Vin was gone so she could start cleaning. The shop was filthy.

“Thanks. ’Cause I haven’t been laid in God knows how long.” She sighed. “That’s where I’m going. A sex date. And I cannot wait.”

“Thanks for sharing.”

“This guy? Knows what he’s doing,” her cousin continued, squinting appreciatively as she took a long drag on her cigarette, her face contorting into a sea of wrinkles. “Some men, it’s just in and out, right? Nawt him.”

“That’s…that’s great.”

“Does this little circly thing. Makes me crazy.” Lavinia stubbed the cigarette out on her palm, then fished her bra strap up from where it had slid down her crepey, mole-encrusted arm. “He might be hairy, God knows, but once you get used to the friction, it’s all good.”

Parker had never thought of herself as a prude, nope, but damn if she didn’t throw up in her mouth a little bit. “Well, then. Maybe you should get going. Um, traffic and all that.” Yes. The fabled traffic of Gideon’s Cove, Maine, where once in a while you had to wait four or five seconds to make a left-hand turn onto Elm Street.

“Good point, kid.” Lavinia punched Parker on the arm fondly. “Have a great day. And thanks. I’m off to have my orgasms.”

“You go, girl,” Parker said, swallowing. Would definitely be throwing away that cranberry muffin from Joe’s, no matter how good it had looked a half hour ago. Lavinia saluted as she left, hitching up the waistband of her drooping shorts.

As soon as her cousin was down the block, Parker opened the windows. She liked Lavinia, sure, but the smell of cigarette smoke was nasty. Made Parker look forward to her swim later on even more than usual.

Funny thing about that swim—the water seemed to do wonders for Beauty, who acted like a normal dog, leaping off the dock, retrieving whatever happened to be floating, joyfully paddling after Parker, making her funny little woofing breaths. But James…James clearly didn’t like it. Wherever he was, he’d stop and watch her go. It wasn’t the bikini thing—though she had to admit, his reaction upon seeing her that first time was very gratifying. No, he ignored her as she went out, and as she came in, but the whole time she was in the water, she could feel his eyes on her. Must’ve seen Jaws too many times as a kid.

But the swims were glorious as far as Parker was concerned. The icy bite of the water, the tang of salt, the sure, strong strokes as she swam. Maybe she could get a job as a swim coach or something. Not that she could support Nicky on that, but it was a thought. She’d been on the swim team in college, after all. Had been the third Olympic alternate, which by Olympic standards meant she was a loser, but by normal human standards meant she was pretty great. Swimming was one of the few times she felt as if she knew exactly what she was doing. That, and being Nicky’s mother.