Chapter 36

Chapter Thirty-Six

Los Angeles, California

19 Months Earlier

FINN PAUSED in the doorway of the bathroom, holding the short-sleeve, button-up shirt he'd grabbed from the closet, and leaned against the jamb. Zo was wearing nothing except a towel as she tried to work a comb through her wet hair, and it was impossible not to admire the length of her legs, the beauty of her face. Damn, it had been a great morning. They'd taken a five-mile run and had come home for some shower sex. His lips curved, and his gaze heated as he remembered the slickness of her skin beneath his fingers.

Zo turned and caught him ogling her. "Don't look at me like that," she warned him, but her voice was thick. Interested. She shook her head. "I need breakfast. I'm starving, and I don't want to take another shower when I'm still fighting with my hair from the first one. You don't know how lucky you are. All you had to do was towel your hair off, comb it back, and it's already half-dried. "

"Yeah." Her long hair was sexy as fuck, but it was a lot of work. He thought about offering to help but remembered the last time he'd tried. They'd ended up spending half the day in bed, and then Zo had spent the other half trying to get the knots out. "I'll make breakfast," he offered instead. "What do you want?"

Lowering the arm holding the comb, Zo said, "Not a smoothie or protein drink. I like to eat my calories, not—"

"Not drink them," Finn finished in unison with her. His smile broadened. "I know, loquita. How do you feel about an almond flour waffle topped with berries?"

Zo's lips curved. "That's perfect. I need about fifteen minutes, okay?"

"Sounds like a plan."

As she returned to work on the ends of her hair, Finn headed out of the bathroom, through the bedroom, and into the hallway, shrugging into his shirt as he went. Zo had bought it for him, and it had quickly become his favorite. The colors were subdued—she knew he wouldn't wear anything loud—but the geometric pattern was interesting. She'd called it adventurous. His lips curved. He'd never had a woman pick out clothes for him before, and it warmed him that Zo had taken time to think about what he'd like.

He was fastening buttons on his shirt as he walked into the kitchen. The doorbell rang before he had half of them closed. The concierge hadn't called up, so it had to be someone who lived in the building. Finn grimaced. The damn homeowners' association election couldn't come fast enough. He was fucking tired of listening to candidates extoll their virtues.

Finn looked out the peephole. A couple in their fifties stood outside, and they appeared stiff. The woman's hair was reddish-brown and pulled back, away from her face. She was tall, angular, and she held a floppy, wide-brimmed hat in one hand.

The man was tall as well, slim. His dark hair was receding, and his beard was more salt than pepper. He wore gold wire-rimmed glasses. Definitely candidates. Finn didn't get any sense of danger from them. For a moment, he thought about ignoring the bell, but they'd only come back later. He might as well get the spiel over with.

Working on the remaining buttons of his shirt with one hand, Finn opened the door. "Can I help you?"

There was an instant of stunned silence, but it didn't last long.

"Who are you?" the man asked, sounding irate.

"Where is Zofia?" the woman demanded at the same time.

Their tones immediately made him bristle, but he kept his expression impassive. "Zo's busy. What can I do for you?"

"You can get our daughter," the woman said coldly.

Daughter. Finn straightened, nearly coming to attention. "You're Zo's parents." He could see it now. She had her mom's blue eyes and her dad's hair color.

Her mother brushed past him, and the look she gave him was withering. Okay, so it had been a dumb thing to say, but shit, this wasn't the most ideal moment to meet Zo's folks. He was barefoot, fastening his clothes, and his hair was damp. Only a complete idiot wouldn't realize he and Zo were intimate, and her mom and dad clearly weren't stupid.

Her father handed Finn a couple of field backpacks and maneuvered a wheeled duffel bag inside the condo. "Put the packs in the guest room on your way to fetch Zofia," he ordered.

"Yes, sir." Finn thought about asking if he should take the duffel bag, too, but shrugged. He'd been given an out, and he wasn't wasting time with questions.

After opening the door to the spare bedroom and resting both packs against the dresser, Finn went into the master bathroom. Zo was using the blow dryer, but her hair was more wet than dry. She turned it off when she spotted him. "What's up?" she asked with a smile. "Are we out of almond flour? "

"I wish," he muttered. Louder, Finn said, "Your parents are here."

Zo's smile instantly disappeared. "What? It's too early. They shouldn't arrive for at least another week, maybe two."

"I don't know about that. You never mentioned they visited at a certain time of year. What I do know is they weren't excited to see me answer the door."

"Yeah. Don't take it too personally. They're not excited when I answer the door, either. I need to get dressed." Zo put down the hairdryer on the vanity. "You need to put on shoes and tuck in your shirt."

"I will, but they've already figured out we're having sex."

She stopped halfway to the door. One side of her mouth quirked up, but it was fatalistic, not amused. "It's not like we can hide it, but my parents are big on decorum." She pursed her lips. "It's too bad you haven't shaved for a few days, and your hair is past your collar."

He remembered that her father's hair had been freshly cut, and his beard neatly trimmed. Finn ran a hand over his stubble. "Sorry, loquita."

Zo came over to him, rested her hand on his arm. "No, I'm sorry I didn't warn you their arrival was imminent. I thought I had time." She shrugged. "They took the red-eye from Colombia and will want a nap after breakfast. That'll give us time to regroup."

Finn caught her hand to keep her close and brushed his lips over hers. "It'll be okay."

Zo squeezed his fingers. "Yeah, it'll be okay. They'll be gone in a week, maybe less."

When she pivoted, Finn let her go. Damn, he wanted to hold her, reassure her, but he was too aware of her parents out in the living area. Waiting. He went to his closet, fished some socks out of the drawer, and grabbed a pair of sneakers—his new ones, not the ones he'd been running in. Finn sat on the chaise across from the bed to put on his socks. "Do your parents like waffles?" he called to Zo.

"Unlike me, they would probably prefer a smoothie." Her voice was muffled. "Maybe the almond flour will convince them a waffle is healthy."

Finn tied his last sneaker and stood to tuck in his shirt. "Take your time getting dressed. I'll go out and get their breakfast order."

"I won't let you go out there alone. I'll be ready in a couple of minutes."

He stiffened, but in the next breath, he realized Zo wanted to be there to protect him from her parents. "I'll be fine, loquita. I've faced some pretty difficult people in my military career. If I can deal with Jorge Torres, I can handle a couple of archaeology professors."

She stepped out of her walk-in closet in nothing but a bra and panties. They were yellow, lacy, and barely there. Finn momentarily forgot what they were talking about. Sometimes he couldn't believe this incredibly sexy, intelligent woman wanted him, that she'd let him live with her.

"I'm pretty sure my parents are going to be more trouble than the arms dealer ever was, but by all means, go, handle them." She smiled, and this time, there was humor on her face. "I'll be out to rescue you as soon as I can."

When Zo retreated into her closet, Finn left the bedroom to start breakfast. Her parents were sitting on bar stools at the kitchen island, talking quietly. They immediately stopped when they spotted him. It wasn't unexpected. What would be weird was if they weren't discussing him. He donned his nice, polite, decorous personality. "Mr. Parker, Mrs. Parker. Zo and I were going to have almond flour waffles. Can I make each of you one as well?"

"It's doctor and doctor, not Mr. and Mrs.," Zo's father corrected him .

"Yes," her mother agreed with a nod. "And who are you? We haven't been properly introduced."

"Finn Rowland," he said, offering his hand. They both ignored it, and he lowered it back to his side. "I'm afraid I don't know your first names."

"I'm Adelina, and my husband is Owen. You may call either of us Doctor Parker."

If he hadn't spent so much time learning to hide his emotions, Finn might have laughed. He'd never seen two more politely rude people in his life. "Doctor Parker it is," he said easily. "Now, can I interest you in a waffle?"

The couple shared a glance. "We know Zofia prefers to eat her breakfast, but do you have the ingredients for a fruit smoothie?"

"Yes, ma'am." Finn went to the kitchen. "Do you want triple berries or tropical?"

They agreed on triple berries but turned down his offer to add chia seeds or protein powder. With a nod, Finn took down two glasses and started working on their breakfast. It was a damn good thing he was used to performing under pressure because they were relentless in their questions.

"What do you do?" Zo's mother asked.

"I work for the Paladin League," Finn said, bending down to get the berries from the freezer.

"You're an archaeologist?" her father sounded hopeful.

"No, sir." He opened the refrigerator and took out the yogurt and almond milk.

"Oh." There were worlds of disappointment in that one sound. "Is that how you met Zofia? At the Paladin League?"

Finn took the blender from the cabinet. "No, we met while I was in the Army."

"The Army. You were an officer?" Adelina Parker asked. There was politeness in her tone and no curiosity, but Finn was being grilled .

"No, ma'am. Enlisted." He started adding the ingredients to be mixed.

"You didn't go to college then."

Looking at them over his shoulder, he said, "I have a degree in political science."

"Masters?" she asked.

"Sorry, ma'am, only a bachelors." Finn turned back to the blender, put the lid on, and punched the button. The noise ended the questioning. Momentarily. It didn't take long to make a smoothie, and as soon as he turned off the blender and began pouring into the glasses, the inquisition resumed.

"You seem right at home," Adelina said.

The sentence wasn't a question, but he knew a fishing expedition when he heard one. "That's because this is my home." He put napkins down in front of each of them and then returned with the smoothies. "I live here."

Dead silence.

That's when Zo arrived. She'd dressed in butter-yellow slacks, an ice-blue Oxford shirt, and a beige blazer. Her damp hair was pulled back in the same low ponytail her mom sported, she had makeup on—done subtly enough to almost appear natural—and she wore a silver beaded necklace. She looked professional as fuck. To spend time with her parents.

"Mom, Dad. This is a surprise. Did you close up the site early?"

Finn noticed there weren't any hugs. Her parents remained at the island, and Zo stood near the kitchen, her expression polite. He wanted to go to her, wrap his arm around her, but he stayed put, uncertain how she'd feel about displaying affection in front of her folks.

"We worked as long as our permit allowed," her mother said after taking a sip from her glass. "Fasten another button on your shirt, Zofia. Your cleavage is nearly visible."

Zo did as ordered without hesitating, but Finn was getting pissed on her behalf. He had to stay out of this unless his loquita sent the signal she wanted him to jump in. There were landmines present, and since he didn't know the danger zones, he could easily trip one and make everything worse.

"How was your flight?" Zo asked.

"Bumpy." Her father frowned. "Do you think yellow trousers are practical?"

Finn looked at Zo, but she didn't glance his way. He bit his tongue. To keep himself occupied, he pulled out the waffle iron, plugged it in, and got a bowl down. The almond flour and coconut flour were in the pantry, but he didn't move. It was located behind the kitchen, the door a couple of feet down the hall, but he was loath to leave her alone for even the thirty seconds it would take to retrieve the ingredients. Finn got out the eggs and vanilla instead and opened the drawer for the whisk.

"I'm not planning to leave the condo while I'm wearing them," Zo said, her voice calm, polite. "I think the trousers will hold up."

Owen Parker shrugged as if her answer meant nothing to him, and raised his glass.

"Finn makes a good smoothie, doesn't he?"

Unable to delay any longer, he went to the pantry.

"It's adequate," her mother allowed as he opened the door and turned on the light.

He didn't waste any time getting what he needed, but he shouldn't have worried. The conversation remained cordial. And formal. Maybe it was because he was present. Finn was pretty sure her parents weren't going to let his revelation about living here go uninterrogated, but it was becoming obvious they didn't want him around when they did it.

Checking in on Zo as he worked, Finn measured the ingredients and mixed the batter. About the time he was ready to pour the first waffle on the iron, her mother said, "I think we'll take a nap. You know I don't sleep on planes."

"Good idea, Mom." Zo turned to him. "Finn, would you please put their duffel in the guest room for me? They always stay in the green room."

"Will do, loquita."

Both her parents frowned at the endearment—he caught it from the corner of his eye—but Finn ignored it. Hefting the bag over his shoulder, he took it down the hall and deposited it near the packs.

"We'll go out to dinner tonight," her father was saying when Finn returned to the kitchen. Both Owen and Adelina were standing near the hallway now. Owen caught sight of him. "All four of us," he added, and his tone made it clear he wasn't enthusiastic about Finn's presence.

"Pick a restaurant with a healthy menu, please," Adelina said.

"Of course," Zo agreed, and her parents headed off.

Finn remained motionless until he heard the door to the guest room close. He turned to Zo. Her face was pale but composed. Wooden, that was the word that came to mind. With a scowl, he quietly demanded, "What the actual fuck was that?"