Brothers of Paradise Series

“I change my mind every day.” He goes to the garage door and pushes it open, letting in a flood of cool morning air. “Maybe you’ve been a government agent, a spy, and you had to return to Paradise to lie low after your last assignment went wrong.”

That makes me chuckle. “And Emma?”

“Oh, she’s a very charming decoy, all part of your cover story. Explains why she’s so clever.” He nods toward the great outdoors. “Are you finally joining me for a swim?”

It takes a few seconds to make the decision. “Okay. Sure. But I didn’t bring a bikini.”

His gaze drops to my chest, voice a little rough around the edges. “Sports clothes work too. Shouldn’t be anyone down by the boardwalk at this hour.”

“Right. Um, yes. Let’s go.” I tug at my T-shirt. “Lord knows I’m sweaty enough.”

We don’t run down to the boardwalk, the way I’d seen him do a few days ago. We walk side by side instead, his steps long, mine measured.

“Want to know something?” I ask.Content (C) Nôv/elDra/ma.Org.

“Is it about your mysterious past? Are you running from the mob?”

I knock his shoulder with mine and instantly regret it. The brief touch shoots electricity through me. “No, and no.”

“Damn. Well, I’m curious about everything you say, so shoot.”

“Emma wants to go out on a boat,” I say. “She’s asked me twice in the past few days, and every time we drive by the marina, she yells it from the backseat.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I think the Junior Regatta blew her mind. Paradise has her.”

I hear the smile in his voice. “Of course it does.”

“Anyway, I blame you entirely.”

“Me?” He chuckles. “I’ll accept, of course, because in this case it’s an achievement. But why?”

“She drew ships at the yacht club and learned to call you captain, and all was lost. I’ll lose her to the sea.”

“It’s not a bad place to be lost,” he says. “You know I’ll take the two of you out, one day, if you want to. On the Frida.”

I look at the horizon, the glittering band of blue getting larger and larger in the distance. “Thank you.”

“No pressure, though,” he adds. “I know you want us to stay professional.”

To stay professional? I nod, but the word bounces around in my head. I know you want us to. My mind races through the conversation in his office, the night on the lawn, in the rain. When had I made that clear?

Parker stops at the boardwalk and stretches, tall and strong beside me.

And reality suddenly kicks me hard in the shins. I’m going to have to take off my clothes around him.

“It’ll be cold,” he warns with a grin and reaches down to pull off his sneakers. The dusty gold of his hair is darkened at the temples with sweat. “Ready, James?”

“I was born ready,” I say. It’s a lie, and he sees it too, because his grin widens. But I toe off my tennis shoes and reach for the hem of my T-shirt. Take a deep breath… and pull it straight off.

Thank God my sports bra covers enough.

Parker focuses on the tie of his workout shorts, unfastening it, and I take that opportunity to tug off my workout shorts too. My panties are black cotton and normal and not the least bit sexy. I hurry toward the ladder, desperate to get out of view from the road.

And out of his view.

“Coming?” I call.

Parker gives me a crooked smile and pulls off his T-shirt. He does it the way men do, grabbing at the shoulders and tugging it off over his head. The abs are back, but this time they’re joined by a wide chest and a smattering of light brown hair.

I look down at my feet on the dock and the chipped nail polish on my big toe.

“You’re going to regret this in about five seconds,” Parker warns, “but give it a minute, and you’ll think it’s the best idea ever.”

“Will I?”

He nods and stands beside me on the dock. Raising an eyebrow, he gives me a cocky grin, the picture-perfect one I remember from our childhood. And in one smooth motion he dives in, cutting through the surface of the deep blue with the skill of an athlete.

“Show-off,” I mutter and take a few careful steps down the ladder. It’s freezing around my ankles. A quick glance over my shoulder reveals him coming up for air, facing toward the horizon. So I quickly take the plunge to hide my body from view.

It’s like entering an ice bath.

“Oh my God,” I say, pushing off the ladder. “Holy moly, this is cold. So, so cold.”

Parker’s voice reaches me across the waves. “Did Jamie Moraine just say holy moly?”

“Shush!”

He laughs. “If sixteen-year-old you could hear you right now.”

“She would have slapped me,” I say. “But she also said fuck way too liberally for a teenager, and she didn’t have a little kid around who mimics everything. Is it always this cold?”

“You should know,” he says, easily treading water. The soft waves lap around his broad shoulders. “You’re a native.”

“It’s been a while. I’ve lived inland for almost a decade.” I swim out toward him, cutting through the water. It’s starting to feel bearable, just almost, and the sun glints off the waves. On a whim, I dip my head beneath the surface and swim until my lungs feel like they might burst.

I break the surface and take a deep breath.

“Who’s a show-off now?” Parker calls. He’s behind me now, silhouetted not by the horizon but by the dock.

The water and the cold sets off a peculiar high through my veins. I feel crazy and alive and brave. It reminds me of how I’d felt getting onto that Greyhound with Emma and our two suitcases, leaving our past behind.

“The water is actually nice!”

He swims toward me, cutting through the water in a crawl. “I want to say I told you so,” he says, “but I don’t want to get splashed.”

“Splash? Me? I would never.”