“How was Atlanta?” she asked. Small talk might keep her from jumping in his lap. Besides, she actually wanted to know what he’d been doing up there.

“I’m lining up another new project. Nothing’s final yet. I thought I might as well come back. Gail can manage without me.”

How very nice to know that, Mary Beth thought.

She moved to the shallow end and sat on a low step, still mostly in the water. “Bobby Joe said he talked to you last night.”

A cloud came over Parr’s face, as if the memory was distasteful for some reason. “Yes. He was having way too good a time and not making a whole hell of a lot of sense. Off the chain, as they say.”

Mary Beth couldn’t read his expression one way or another. “I hope you don’t blame me for that. Coming to Brickell was Alma’s idea. We all needed time off.”

“That’s so,” Parr acknowledged. “And by the way, I would never blame you for what he does or says. Just keeping you posted. I assume he called you too. He said he was going to.”

Bobby Joe again. Always around, even when he wasn’t. “Yes, he did. When he was somewhat more sober.”

“Good enough.”

The awkwardness of the situation compelled her to be direct. “Parr, you didn’t have to drive all the way up to Brickell to report on your brother.”

“I suppose not,” Parr said levelly.

“But here you are. Why?” She stopped talking, surprised by the intensity of the emotions Parr triggered in her when there was no one else around. Last time that had happened—in the mostly empty hospital cafeteria—he’d promised to keep his feelings for her a secret from his brother.

It wasn’t really possible for them to have a casual conversation. Being alone with him was dangerous.

“Mary Beth.” Parr’s voice deepened and his dark gaze captured hers again. “I came up here to see you because I knew you were alone.” He drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “Want to finish what we started?”

Something snapped in Mary Beth. The dutiful daughter and faithful fiancée stopped wanting to be both, just like that. The one man who’d made her feel like a woman—who’d made her feel desired and cherished—was here. She could take full advantage of that or not. It was up to her.

They didn’t have to go all the way. But if they did, that would be her decision too. Bobby Joe didn’t own her. Parr didn’t either. She just wanted to own this moment.

“When are they coming back?”

She knew he meant his mother and her friend.

“Not for hours.” The reply was tantamount to saying yes. Yes to anything.