“Just a guess,” he said.
There was a silence that wasn’t at all comfortable, then he asked, “Did he say anything about Leo?”
I nodded. “He said he had been working undercover and that’s how Leo knew him … and that they want him to do it again—go undercover.”
“Is he going to?”
I frowned, thinking. “He didn’t say, actually. But yeah, I think so. We were talking about it, then kinda got … distracted—”
“I really don’t want to hear the details,” Parker interrupted, his tone dry.
I cleared my throat in embarrassment. “So, um, yeah, anyway … I guess if he does go back undercover, we won’t see each other for a while.”
“How long is ‘a while’?”
I shrugged. “He didn’t really say.”
“Did he say anything about the shooting last night?”
I shook my head again. “No.”
Parker muttered a curse under his breath. “So he’s just going to go undercover and leave you alone in his house?”
I could feel a headache coming on, and didn’t bother answering him. His jaw was clenched and his lips pressed tightly together, but he didn’t say anything else.
He pulled into a Starbucks drive-thru, ordering breakfast for us and his usual double tall latte. I opened my mouth to tell the faceless speaker my order, but Parker was already speaking.
“… and a grande nonfat pumpkin spice latte, no foam, add extra whip,” he said.
I looked at him in surprise.
“That is what you want, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Uh, yeah,” I said, shocked that he knew what I’d order. “How’d you know?”
The voice gave Parker the total and the car inched forward in line. “You have the pumpkin spice lattes in the fall,” he said. “And you always add whip. I figured after yesterday, you might need more than the usual amount.”
I guess I shouldn’t have been so taken aback that Parker had known this. He was the smartest man I knew, was incredibly observant, and he never forgot a thing. I just hadn’t realized I’d ranked on his lists of Things to Observe and Things Not to Forget.
Parker paid, handing me my cup before pulling back into traffic.
“I was afraid Ryker would let us down,” he said. “So I called my contact at the CIA and told him what happened. They’re sending a cleanup crew to your apartment to repair the damage, by the way, free of charge.”
Gee. How generous of them. Considering it was their fault Viktor was loose at all, it was the least they could do. “What did he say?” I asked.
“You’re not going to like it.”
That didn’t sound good. “What?”
“They want to put you in protective custody until they can track Viktor down.”
“What?” My screech made him flinch. “You’re kidding, right? Protective custody? For how long? And why just me? Why not you, too?”
“Someone needs to be the bait to lure Viktor out so they can catch him.”
It took me a second to realize what he meant. “No way,” I said. “That’s just … that’s wrong! They can’t make you risk your life—”
“I volunteered.”
My jaw hung open as I stared at him. “Why would you do something so crazy?” I blurted.
“You think I’m just going to wait around until he kills you?” Parker snapped back. “I don’t think so.”
He pulled into the parking garage, navigating through the levels to his reserved space. I took his coffee and mine so he could grab his briefcase from the back. Transferring the bag containing our breakfast into his briefcase hand, he settled his other hand on the small of my back as we headed for the elevator.
This was new.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
I punched the button for the elevator and turned, realizing he was standing really close to me, sandwiching me between the wall and his body. He was tall and his shoulders were wide, completely obscuring my view of the garage behind him. But he wasn’t looking at me. He’d propped his sunglasses on top of his head and was scanning the parking garage level we were on.
“The, um, you know … touching thing.” Talk about awkward. And the bigger problem wasn’t that he was touching me, but that I liked it when I knew I shouldn’t. God, this was turning into a psychiatrist’s wet dream.
“It’s a helluva lot easier to shove you to the ground if I already have a hand on you,” he replied, still observing the quiet garage filled with silent cars. He moved and his jacket shifted. That’s when I saw the glint of metal at his side and figured it out.
Parker was protecting me.
The elevator doors slid open and he hustled me inside, keeping his body between me and anyone who might be aiming for us. Reaching behind, he hit the button and the doors closed.
“You can’t keep doing that,” I said.
“Doing what?” Parker asked, his body relaxing slightly.
“I don’t want you getting hurt because you’re trying to protect me.”
He looked at me now. “But it’s okay for Ryker to protect you?”