N SATURDAY NIGHT, their last night together, James sat on the dock as ordered. He could hear Parker rattling around in the kitchen, putting the final touches on dinner. She’d already brought down a bottle of wine—the last one from Harry’s wine cellar, she’d said—and it was sitting in a bucket of ice next to him. The picnic blanket was spread and set. She’d even put a little vase of flowers in the middle.

James didn’t hate being on the dock anymore, despite the gentle rocking and deep water. Nope. It was growing on him, better late than never. The evening was warm and clear, the sun taking its time to set, lighting up Gideon’s Cove in a clean, golden glow.

It was almost insultingly romantic.

His bag was packed; his bed, in which he hadn’t slept for seven nights running, was now made up with fire-engine sheets for Nicky. James would be moving to Maggie Beaumont’s old apartment for the next week or so; all he had to do in exchange was check in on Maggie’s little old lady neighbor.

What happened with Parker after tonight, he had no idea.

A fling, she’d said. A weeklong summertime fling, at the end of which, they’d part as friends. Except he didn’t want her as a friend.

But she already seemed to be pulling away. Putting out her son’s stuffed animals on the bed, a few books in his room, making a sign that said, Welcome, Nicky! I missed you! He was getting the message. She was shifting back into mommy mode, and he couldn’t blame her. She had a lot to do back in Rhode Island—get a job, find a place to live, adjust to a new lifestyle, get her kid settled in school.

Didn’t stop the wanting, though.

But he had his own stuff to deal with. His own bills to pay, his own job to find.

“Okay, here we are,” Parker said, walking carefully with the tray. Beauty bounded onto the dock and flopped down expectantly, making Parker laugh. “It’s not for you, girl. It’s for him. Ta-da!”

Lobster. Drawn butter, mashed potatoes, green beans. “There’s peach cobbler for dessert, but it was too hot to bring down just yet,” she added.

“Wow,” he said. “This is really nice, Parker. Thanks.”

“Well. I owe you. For all you’ve done.”

Ah. He was being relegated back to the help. Got it.

The food was fantastic. Hard to really love your kiss-off meal, though. Parker chatted easily about town things…a little gossip from the flower shop, the busload of Canadians that had stopped at the diner today, Stuart from the hardware store dropping by with a “blonde with sand” for her today, which apparently was a cup of coffee with cream and sugar.

All very pleasant conversation, same as she’d have with the mailman.

“Why wouldn’t you go out with me back then?” he asked, setting down his fork. “After your cousin’s wedding?”

His question surprised James nearly as much as it surprised Parker. Her mouth opened, then closed, and she began stacking the plates neatly onto the tray, where Beauty surreptitiously gave them a few licks. Then, finally, she looked at him. “Well, at the time, I didn’t want to date you, James. You were Thing One. My father’s minion.”

“But you were okay with using me for sex.”

She flinched a little. “I guess so. It wasn’t like I’d planned anything.” She looked out over the water. “I figured you slept with me because my last name is Welles.”

“I slept with you because you dragged me into a bedroom and mauled me, Parker, and no straight single guy in his right mind would say no to that.” He smiled a little to soften the words.

Her ears grew pink. “Right. I did drag and maul. It’s true. But then you went off with my father, and it seemed very…convenient. You were already in my father’s back pocket—now you had his daughter, too.”

His smile dropped. “So you really thought I was complete scum, in other words.”

“You were my father’s favorite person. My father is complete scum. You were scum by association.” She studied her hands. “I was wrong, if it helps.”

He said nothing.

“I figured if you really wanted to date me,” she added quietly, “you would’ve tried harder.”

Women. Honestly. James leaned back in his chair. “I brought you flowers. I came to your house, and you squashed me like a bug. You weren’t going to date me, Parker. I was the help.”

“No. It wasn’t that. It was more like…” She sighed. “I don’t know. I didn’t think you were sincere. I figured you came over to see Harry’s daughter. Not me.” Her cheeks were flushed now, so at least there was that, a little shame thrown in. “If you really wanted something with me, I thought you’d try again. But you didn’t.” She was pinching her pinkie finger. “I guess it was a test or something.”

“See, to me, it didn’t seem like a test. I came over with flowers, and you were armed and ready with the Paragon and your kid and told me I was a drunken mistake. Kinda hard to feel the urge to call you again.”

“That was a rotten thing to say. I’m sorry for that.”

“Well, shit, Parker. I’m sorry I assumed you knew that you were an adult who knew what you wanted. I’m sorry I didn’t read your mind.”

She blinked. Then she swallowed. “You’ve made your point, James,” she said, her voice husky. “And for the record, I wasn’t drunk. I knew what I was doing.”

There it was again, her way of saying something abruptly honest. She was so careful all the time, so vigilant about what she’d tell him, and then bam, she’d say something like that, and it was a sucker punch to the heart.

Also, her eyes were wet.

Their last night together, and he was making her cry.

Shit.

“Don’t cry,” he said, his voice soft.

“I’m not,” she lied. “I’m sorry for how I acted back then. I really am.”

“It’s just that I thought about you. A lot.” He reached for her hand, ran his fingers over the back of it. She didn’t look at him. “For years, if I’m being honest.”

That made her glance up. “Really?”

“Yes. Many thoughts.” He grinned a little.

“What kind of thoughts?” she asked, a smile of her own starting.

“Dirty.”

“Really?”

“Filthy.”

“How filthy?” She was smiling in full now.

“Extremely.”

“Any interest in pursuing those now?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He stood up. “Race you to the house.”

* * *

LATER, AFTER SEX and peach cobbler and another—and possibly last—round of lovemaking, James was still awake, Parker’s head on his shoulder, his fingers in her hair. She was asleep, her breathing soft and slow.

This was it, he guessed. Tomorrow her son would be here, and she was a great mom. She’d focus on him, make Nicky’s transitions easier and all that. The kid didn’t need his mother’s boyfriend in the mix. He couldn’t argue with her there.

It was time to let her go. He’d finish what he started with the house and head back to the real world. Parker had a lot in front of her, and she deserved this time with her son to be uncomplicated and happy.

And if that meant being Thing One again, so be it. The last thing he wanted was to make her life more difficult any more than he had already.

He just hadn’t imagined it would be this hard.