Page 21 of Wood You Rather?

She held up one finger. “You’re not gonna like what I say next. But it needs to be said out loud.”

I braced myself.

She thinks I can’t do it. That I’ll fuck it up. I’ll blow it, and we’ll never know what happened to Dad.

Where my family was concerned, I was a perpetual disappointment.

“Paz, I respect you. Especially what you’ve done for the business.”

“But,” I said, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“But…” she hedged. “Please. Please, do not sleep with her.”

I slammed my coffee cup down on the desk so hard liquid splashed up through the lid. “Are you shitting me, Adele?”

She gave me a pitying look that somehow made this exchange even more insulting. “I will never mention this again. But we both know you’ll screw anything with boobs and two legs. We also know that most women are morons who can’t resist your asshole charm.”

I looked down at my hands, now covered in lukewarm coffee. “That’s harsh.”

“I’m sorry. But this is huge. I know it’s been hard for you to be back here. I know you miss your big, exciting life in Portland. It must be lonely. And…”

“Let me stop you right there. You’ve got it all wrong. First, things have definitely slowed down in the bedroom department since I moved back. Second, yes, I enjoy the company of women. But only casually, usually for a night, and with no strings. This is clearly not that scenario.”

“Yes. But—”

I held up a coffee-soaked hand. “I haven’t gotten to where I am by being unprofessional. And I’m certainly not going to sleep with the woman I hired to solve Dad’s murder. Please give me some fucking credit.”

I glared at her, all kinds of shitty feelings flowing through me. Of course she thought the worst of me. Hell, I thought the worst of me. And while I was making a bit of a show of being offended by her suggestion, the truth was, I’d thought about it. Though I wouldn’t tell my little sister that I had spent quite a bit of time thinking about having sex with Parker. In several scenarios and in various rooms in my house, to be exact.

Parker was smart and sexy, and she really disliked me.

If she was as good at her job as I thought she was, there was no way in hell I wouldn’t be actively fantasizing about her all the time.

The thought of her striding through that restaurant in that dress had me instantly sporting a semi.

But there was a big difference between thinking and acting. And it cut right to the bone that my sister, who I respected so much, thought I couldn’t keep my dick in my pants for the sake of my dad.

“You’re right.” She opened her desk drawer and handed me a stack of paper napkins. “I shouldn’t have said that. You’re an absolute pro. And you’re the best person to handle all this.”

“Thank you.”

“Everything is so scary right now. Not knowing who we can trust. Being targeted. It feels like everything is slipping away. I guess I envisioned the beautiful, smart PI living in your house with you and jumped to the wrong conclusion.”

I couldn’t fault her there. My track record was terrible, and I was known to be an Olympic-level self-saboteur.

Adele was probably even less likely than Henri to express fear. So for her to be so openly vulnerable meant she was deeply rattled. Since she’d discovered the evidence of tampering on the brake mechanism on Dad’s truck, and since she’d found similar evidence on the truck Henri was driving last year when he’d almost been killed, she had been consumed by guilt and fear. She took total responsibility for every truck in our fleet and took every single flat tire personally. But the thought that someone was actively trying to hurt our family? It was eating her up.

She had withdrawn, and when she wasn’t working nonstop or at the gym, she was in Orano with some guy Remy claimed was a professor. My sister sure had a type, but I wasn’t even sure about that anymore. Like the rest of us, she wasn’t okay. Looking at her, seeing the fear in her eyes mixed with the hope that Parker could solve this, activated every protective instinct in my body.

If only this was the type of problem I could throw money at. Because seeing my sister scared gutted me. And soon my own fear was bubbling up, threatening to consume me.

“I’m scared too,” I said after a lengthy silence. “This is so important. There’s a reason Henri runs the business and you run the shop. I’m the money guy. I like spreadsheets and certainty. Now I have to fake a relationship with the PI we hired to find our dad’s killer? All while running our business, getting her access to possible records and employees,andkeeping it all a secret?”

I ran my hands through my hair, resisting the urge to pull it out in frustration.

“You are so dense.” She leaned forward, putting her elbows on the desk. “You’re smart and worldly. You’re the one who got out, traveled all over the world making your deals and meeting all kinds of people. I don’t know why you can’t get it through your skull that you’re the right person for this job.”

“But Henri—”

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