She went onto the porch of the two-family house where he was staying and paused, looking in the window of the first floor; the little old lady who lived on the bottom floor of the house was sleeping in front of her huge TV, where a slasher flick was playing in gruesome detail. Parker smiled a little, then went up the stairs to James’s apartment.

She knocked, albeit very quietly. Her heart was pounding rather erratically in her chest. Crikey, it was terrifying, this…this vulnerability. But he’d said he loved her. That had to count for something.

There was no answer to her knock, and she couldn’t see anything through the little window. Maybe he’d already left town. The thought made her mouth dry.

The door was unlocked. Parker went in, biting her lip. “James?” she said quietly, setting Nicky’s drawing on the counter.

The bedroom door was closed, but light shone from under the door, and she could catch a few strains of music. Okay, great, he was here. She ran a hand over her hair, swallowed, then knocked and opened the door at the same time.

“Hi, baby!” said a voice.

A woman’s voice.

A woman was in the bed. Naked. A very surprised-looking, very well-endowed, very perky young woman. Wow. No cellulite there—or anywhere—that was for sure. Candles flickering on the windowsill. Harp music coming from an iPod speaker.

James had left. He was gone.

The two women stared at each other, frozen for a horrible second. Then Boobalicious jerked the sheet up to her chin. “Oh, my gosh! I’m so, so sorry!” she spluttered. “I thought you were someone else!”

“Oh, no, me, too,” Parker said. “I’m really, really sorry.”

He’d moved out. She’d missed her chance. Her throat tightened as if Apollo was wrapped around it.

“I—I’ll go,” Parker said. “My friend used to live here. I didn’t realize he already… I’ll— I’m so embarrassed. And so sorry.”

The woman smiled sheepishly. “No, no, I should’ve locked the door. My bad, totally. I’m waiting for my boyfriend. Obviously. Duh, right?”

“Well.” Parker half grimaced, half smiled. “You have a good night.”

“Thanks.” Beautiful girl. Woman. Whatever.

Parker turned to leave, then froze.

Apollo’s glass tank was in the corner, complete with the python curled up inside.

Then the bedroom door opened, and there was James, a six-pack of beer under one arm.

“James,” Parker breathed.

“James!” the na**d woman said at the same time, albeit much more enthusiastically. “Hi, baby!”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

THIS COULDN’T BE HAPPENING. His luck wasn’t this bad. A guy goes to Jason’s for supper, comes home to find…this?

James’s eyes ricocheted from one woman to the other. Nope, his luck really, really sucked, apparently. And what do you say in a situation like this?

“Hi,” he ventured.

“Surprise!” Leah said. “Um, this nice lady came to see her friend, who, like, lived here before and just moved. Awkward! Right?”

Oh, indeed. James seemed to be paralyzed. Speak, idiot, his brain commanded. But Leah was in his bed—Leah, for God’s sake. How the hell had she found him, even, let alone wound up in his apartment, in his bed, naked? Because yeah, there was her left breast, and while it was a completely excellent breast, he could’ve sworn they broke up, and she and her fabulous rack really had no business being here.

But here she was. Her pretty red hair was curled, she was all made up, there were candles burning—he didn’t even have candles…hell, she must’ve brought them herself—and it was clear what Leah had in mind.

And in this corner, there was Parker, wearing jeans and a Joe’s T-shirt and flip-flops, her hair in a ponytail. And if—just if—she’d come over to offer the proverbial olive branch, James sensed his odds were falling. That instead of a branch, she might whip out a chain saw and cut off his arm. Or another body part.

He was so screwed. “Uh…Parker, this is a friend from home. Leah, this is Parker.” Yes. What was the etiquette in a situation like this? Last names? No?

Leah sat up straighter, finally pulling the sheet over her breast. “Parker? Parker, like, Welles? I’m so happy to meet you! You’re Harry’s daughter, right? Cool! James has told me a lot about you! You’re an author, right? Really cool.”

“A pleasure to meet you, too, Leah,” Parker said, her rich-girl drawl in full glory. “I gather you’re James’s girlfriend.”

If looks could castrate…

“Well, yeah.” Leah’s voice was charmingly sheepish. “We’ve been together since, oh, man, that wedding on New Year’s, right, James?”

He didn’t answer.

“Eight months. That’s great,” Parker said. Her expression and tone were completely pleasant. “Obviously, my business with James can wait until after you two catch up. Welcome to Gideon’s Cove. Have a wonderful night.”

She walked past James, not touching him. “She’s totally nice!” Leah said. “I thought she’d be so stuck-up!”

“I—I’ll be right back,” James said. “Stay here.” The door to his apartment closed as Parker left. Way too classy to slam it, of course.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Leah said, a hint of a pout creeping into her voice.

“And you did,” he said over his shoulder. “Be back soon.”

He bolted out the door, clattered down the stairs. “James!” said Mrs. Kandinsky, opening the door. “There’s a very pretty young lady here to see you! And I believe that children’s author just left!”

“Thanks, Mrs. K.,” he said, not stopping.

“Always in such a hurry, you young people,” she commented.

Parker was already a block ahead of him. “Parker! Wait up!” he called. She didn’t slow down. He didn’t blame her.

He caught up to her in front of Dewey’s and grabbed her by the arm. She shook him off. Already, people inside were watching them. “Parker, it’s not what you think.”

She gave a bitter laugh. “Wow. That was really the wrong thing to say.”

“I didn’t know she was coming! I had no idea! You heard her. It was a surprise.”

Parker tilted her head and looked at him, her expression calm. “How old is she? Just out of curiosity?”

“Um, twenty-two? Twenty-three?”

Clearly that was the wrong answer, because Parker jerked the door open and walked up to the bar. “Hello, Dewey,” she said pleasantly. “I’d like a glass of your best scotch, neat, if you don’t mind.”

“You bet, Parker.” He winked.

“Parker.” James came up beside her. “I really need to—”

“Hey there, Parker!” said one of the Three Musketeers…Stuart, who’d helped Parker paint her bedroom. “How’s it going?”

“Well,” she said, smiling at the old man, “I’ve been better, Stu. How are you? How’s your knee?”

“Not so bad. You look upset, sweetheart. Anything I can do?”

“If you could keep James here from talking to me, that’d be great.”

James flinched. “Parker, please let me explain.”

“The lady doesn’t want to talk to you,” Stuart said pleasantly. “Sorry, son.”

Dewey placed the glass in front of her, and she drained it in one gulp. His uncle’s eyebrows rose.

“Parker—”

“James, I do not wish to speak to you at this time. Please leave me alone.” Her voice carried through the bar quite clearly, especially as everyone had stopped talking.

James glanced around. Chantal shot him a smile, and her husband made a sympathetic Dude, you’re screwed grimace. Malone was less friendly, giving him the Stare of Death.

“I had no idea she was coming,” James said, turning back to the subject at hand and doing his best to ignore the nearly silent bar. “I had no idea you were coming. You could’ve called, Parker. You have my number.”

“I definitely wish I had called, believe me,” she answered, not looking at him. “Then I might’ve learned that you have a girlfriend. Dewey, can I have another one? Thanks, buddy.”

“Parker, I don’t have a girlfriend. I broke up with her. Months ago,” James said.

“Well, I’m pretty sure the fact that she came all the way up here, lit all those candles, took off her clothes, got into your bed and called you ‘baby’ shows that she, at least, thinks you have a girlfriend.” Her eyes were diamond-hard.

“That’s really not honorable, man.” This from the rich guy. Great. Collier Rhodes, there to pick up the pieces.

“Parker, Leah is not the… She’s not my girlfriend. We hung out a few times. I told her I was going to Maine for the summer— Do we have to discuss this here?”

“You know, it’s ironic. I used to think you were just like my father, but you changed my mind this summer. But here you are, exactly like him. The son he never had. Twenty-two, huh? Twenty-two. Wow.”

“Parker,” James ground out, “please tell me why you wanted to see me.”

Parker swallowed her second scotch and turned to look at him fully. “I came to tell you this, Thing One.” Great. He was back to Thing One. “Nicky told me today that he hid on you. On purpose. He heard you calling and he didn’t want to come out. And I was concerned about you, James, because I knew you felt responsible for losing him.” Her voice thickened with tears. “So don’t. Don’t feel guilty about that.” Her voice took on an edge, rising in volume. “But the fact that you were planning to move to New York while I was thinking about babies and long-term relationships? Feel guilty for leading me on.”

“Parker, I wasn’t—”

She cut him off. “Oh, and the na**d woman in your bed with the candles and music? Yes. Go ahead and feel guilty about that, Thing One!”

There was a moment of absolute silence in the bar.

“Unattended candles are a leading cause of house fires,” someone said, and there was a ripple of nervous laughter.

“It’s not what you think, Parker,” James said.

“No,” she agreed, looking at him, and for a second, he saw hurt flash across her eyes. “It’s not.” She reached into her pocket and fished out some bills.

“On the house, honey,” Dewey said, giving James a dirty look.

“Let me take you home.” Collier Rhodes stood next to James. “Buddy, I think she’s done with you.”

“Thanks, Collier.” Parker stood up and looked over the bar patrons. “Guys, it’s been absolutely lovely being here this summer. Thank you for all your help and hospitality. I hope to come back and visit. Sorry for the drama.”

“Oh, no, it’s nothing,” Chantal said. “Don’t even worry about it.”

“Come to the diner for breakfast tomorrow,” Maggie said. “Bring your little cutie.”

“I will. Thanks.”

And with that, she left, not looking back at him. Collier held the door.

When James got back to the apartment, Leah was dressed, her little overnight bag sitting by the door. “Hi,” she said wetly.

“Hi,” he murmured.

“I guess I’ll go. I’m really sorry. I should’ve called.”

James sighed and glanced at his watch. He sat heavily in the other kitchen chair and scrubbed a hand through his hair.

“Leah, I have to say, I’m really surprised to see you.”

“I stopped in at the hardware store, and some old guy told me where you lived.” She looked like a pinup girl, all chest and h*ps and little rosebud mouth. Pretty as anything. She bit her fingernail, then folded her hands. “James, I know we put things on hold, sort of. Well, you did. I was pretty into you. I thought if I could surprise you and remind you that I’m really fun, then maybe you’d want to get together again.” Her voice faded to a whisper as she spoke.