Page 92 of Wicked Intention

“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.”

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