Parker held her gaze. “I’m sorry, Zoe. You deserve better; you deserve someone who can give you what you want for the long haul.”
And that someone wasn’t going to be him. Unable to hold eye contact with him without dissolving into a sniffling mess, she dropped her head to his chest. She wanted to be mad, but he’d been open and up front and honest about their future—or lack of one—from the beginning.
And anyway, he was right. She needed to move on. She needed to go back to her plan. Lifting her head, she looked into his warm eyes and promised herself she’d do just that. She’d go back to the plan.
Tomorrow.
For now, she simply breathed him in before gathering her strength and heading toward the door.
Parker let her go. What the hell else could he do? She’d been so genuine and earnest, so sweetly apologetic, so absolutely positive they had to stop this madness.
It had just about killed him. Because against all the odds, he’d liked the idea of them being a . . . well, them.
But she needed him to stop messing with her. Except he hadn’t been messing with her at all. He’d been as shocked as she at their easy chemistry.
But it was a lot more than chemistry. He knew that now. And yet the reality was that he was leaving, and he had to find a way to do that without further hurting her. That was a priority for him. She’d set the boundaries and he’d honor them.
Even if it killed him.
He could have changed her mind. There’d been a beat there when she’d hesitated, as if waiting for him to say something. And he’d known what she wanted him to say, that this didn’t have to end when he left.
Just as he knew what he wanted to say—Let’s take this thing, this really great, hot, sexy, wonderful thing as far as we can before I have to go.
No, that was a lie. That was what he’d have wanted to say when he’d first arrived. But things had changed. He no longer wanted to go—not that it mattered. His job was his life and he was going back to it.
So even though she’d looked at him like maybe she wouldn’t argue if he made a good case for continuing their relationship, he wouldn’t. She’d been hurt enough in her life; no way would he add to it, ever.
Twenty-four
Parker slept like shit, his dreams mocking him with images of Zoe smiling at him, making his life better just by being in it.
At some point before dawn, he was woken up by a notification on his phone. When he accessed the app, he couldn’t see much in the dark but there was definite movement. Trucks on the go, leaving the ranch just like the other day but more. Like all of them . . .
Shit. He sat up and called Sharon. “He’s moving his stash,” he told her. “He’s got a buyer or he’s going to auction, or maybe he’s been spooked and is changing locales.”
“Parker—”
“Look, I’m working on accepting that this asshole got a deal even though he shouldn’t have been allowed one,” he said. “Just tell me you have someone on him, that he’s not getting away.”
There was a beat of silence and there in the dark, Parker swore. “You don’t.”
“It’s not my responsibility,” she said quietly. “He’s not our responsibility anymore. It’s out of both of our hands.”
“Do they have eyes on him?”
“A deal is a deal,” Sharon said. “He gave up intel and evidence on the militia that was needed, and in return he agrees to stay in Idaho and retire from his business of choice. You know this.”
“And you believe him? You really believe that he’s not going to pull up stakes and simply move off the radar to continue his extremely profitable business somewhere else?”
There was a long pause. “Not my call,” she finally said.
So she didn’t believe it, either. Which didn’t make it any easier to swallow. Parker disconnected. He knew what he’d seen on the feeds, and it didn’t look to him like Carver had stayed behind. It looked to him like the entire operation had cleared out, and there was nothing to stop them from finding another isolated spot in another state to start all over.
He called Kel, who answered with, “Was just calling you.”
“What’s up?” Parker asked.
“I think you know.”
“Yeah,” Parker said. “There’s movement. Where is he going and why is he being allowed to go anywhere?”
“Complicated,” Kel said. “Back before Carver landed on the FWS’s radar, the FBI had him with enough charges to put him away for a long time.”
“So what happened? Wait, let me guess. The bastard was slick enough to make himself a sweet deal.”
“Jackpot,” Kel said. “He remains free as long as he helps the FBI indict a large slice of the evasive militia group he funded, most of whom are wanted for a multitude of other crimes as well. The problem has been that Carver makes new deals, promises that are always juicier than the current evidence.”
“So he keeps getting an extension on his lucrative deal,” Parker said. “Fucking unbelievable.”
“It gets worse,” Kel said. “Every time he gets into trouble—like he did with your agency—the FBI has no choice but to step in and bail his sorry ass out of the sling or they lose their ground.”
“Perfect setup for an asshole like Carver,” Parker said, impressed in spite of himself. “He’s got us over a barrel and knows it. And he’s extended his base of operations from illegal antiquities to funding the militia, so now what?”
“The FBI and the ATF are in way too deep to back out,” Kel said. “Everyone thinks they’re in control, but it’s a political and red-tape nightmare, leaving Carver as the only winner. There are piles of charges that the FBI keeps promising all the other agencies that they’ll get to pursue, but they’re being strung along just as Carver is stringing them along.”
“So what’s his endgame?” Parker asked.
“Anyone’s guess,” Kel said.
Yeah, well, Parker intended to find out.
Zoe got up early, ready for her day. Or so she told herself. She’d had a flight scheduled, but according to a text from Joe, it had been moved to another day. He said the Caravan should be fixed this morning and needed a test flight. He’d put it up for sale and had an interested buyer up north that he wanted her to go show the plane to after the test.
She would miss the Caravan, but she’d do just about anything to keep her mind off Parker and all that they were no longer going to be doing together. Her eyes on her phone, she headed out of her room and . . . right into Parker.
He’d come out of the bathroom, hair wet, body damp, one of her towels wrapped indecently low on his hips.
Damn. Looking that sexy should be completely illegal. She nearly said I want to recant my statement, the one where I said to stay at least nine inches away from me. I spoke too hastily. Instead she said, “Sorry! I need to learn to walk and read my phone at the same time.”
“You can get a ticket for that these days,” he said.
She laughed, relieved that they were going to be grownups about this. It was a huge effort not to step close and run her finger over the cut on his forehead and demand to see his leg, but she managed by shoving her hands into her pockets. “So, where are you off to this early? More . . . sightseeing?”