by Tessa Layne
His gaze sharpens. "In case you've forgotten, your private life, my dear, is very much my business at the moment." He takes my left hand and places his thumb over the engagement ring, worrying it back and forth.
I pull my hand away and lean in. "But this is also very much temporary," I remind him quietly. "You had no right. Ruben is my friend."
"And also a former lover," he interjects tersely.
"Former being the operative word. You should have trusted me to handle it."
"Oh, I do. And-" he raises a finger, "Ruben needed to hear from me that you're officially off the market."
"Ruben has never been anything other than a gentleman." We face off for a full thirty seconds, neither of us looking away or giving an inch.
"And we have a gentleman's understanding." Stockton's voice is flat, final.
This is the CTO-who-negotiates-billion-dollar-deals-and-who-never-backs-down talking. And while I don't see this side of him often, I've seen it enough over the last four years to know it means the subject is closed. I huff out a heavy breath and go back to eating my Pho.
I poke at my noodles trying my best to ignore the sinfully handsome man crowding me. My thoughts bounce from Ruben to Stockton to Honore to my mother and back to Stockton. Part of me is warmed by the thought of Stockton being territorial, another is offended. I'm halfway relieved he's leaving town this week so I can have the space to sort out my thoughts, and I'm simultaneously bereft.
I hate the visits with my mother. They're emotionally exhausting and an exercise in futility. Stockton is the only person in my life who's ever witnessed the toll those visits take on me. I don't even know why I go, except that part of me is still hung up on the idea that someday, she'll turn into a real mother.
Stockton covers my hand with his, lacing his fingers through mine. "Talk to me, Penny," he says softly. "Something else is bothering you. I can see it on your face."
This soft side of Stockton sets me off-kilter. Hard Stockton is predictable. I can push his buttons and he responds the same, every time. But this? I don't know what to think. It's the kind of dangerous behavior that could lull me into believing in happy endings and forever. And with every kiss, every heated glance, every gentle caress, it becomes harder and harder to hide inside the angry young woman armor I've erected around myself.
I sneak a glance his direction. This isn't an act of interest because he knows I'm upset by his visit to Ruben. He's genuinely concerned. "I can't go to Vandalia by myself," I whisper, face flooding with heat. My chest squeezes and pushes my heart to my toes as fast as a rollercoaster. "I know that makes me a coward, but I... I just can't."
"Can you wait? We can drive out the Monday after I'm back."
"She'll wonder what happened."
Stockton's voice turns hard. "That's not your problem. You don't owe her a thing, Penny."
"But she's -"
"No," he says harshly. "I know what you're about to say, and you don't owe her a visit or an explanation. The fact you go at all is a testament to the size of your heart."
A testament to the level of my stupidity is more like it. My mother will never be anything other than she is. An addict who lies, steals and cheats to get her next high. Even when it means abandoning her only child. I accept that in my head, but there's still a huge hole in my heart. I guess there always will be.
"Look at me Penny," he says, lifting my chin with a finger.
I shut my eyes against the water piling up behind them. I can't breathe through the lump in my throat.
"Penny," he says again, softly. I raise my eyes to Stockton's, blinking rapidly, but not fast enough to catch a solitary tear that leaks out. He leans in and kisses the tear off my cheek. "You're enough."
But not enough to be anything more than a fake fiancée.
Chapter Fifteen
Stockton
Penny's avoiding me. I can tell. Beyond the daily security reports she's emailed, we've hardly talked this week. Nothing more than a few terse conversations when she was between meetings with the cybersquad. And when I return to the office Friday afternoon, late, she's nowhere to be found. Penny's always here when I return from a trip. Always. And her absence only feeds the caged animal that's been prowling around inside me all week. My gut clenches. I'm not ready for our charade to end, not even close. I pull out my phone.
S: Where in the hell are you?
I stare at the screen a full minute before three dots appear, then disappear, then appear again. "Just send the fucking text, Penny," I growl.
P: Primping
"Primping?" What the fuck?
S: You don't primp.
P: I do now
S: Since when?
P: Since today
I clench my phone. The woman is absolutely infuriating. I punch her name on speed dial. "It's four o'clock. Since when does primping take three hours?" Our "soiree" with my mother and her circle isn't until seven.
"Since I decided to treat myself," she sasses. "Is there anything else you need?"
And now she's fucking dismissing me? I bite back a tirade that won't get me anywhere. "I'll pick you up at six-thirty."
"Oh no need, I'm not home."
"Where in the hell are you, Penny?" I growl.
"I told you," she says with a giggle. "Primping." Another giggle in the background joins hers. "I'll meet you in the hotel bar at six-thirty and we can have a drink before your mother arrives. You can tell me about your week."
She's absofuckinglutely dismissing me, and I hate it. But it's not like I can tie her to her desk. I work her too hard as it is. She's entitled to time away from the office. "I'll be waiting." I hang up before I make a fool of myself.
I'm mentally fried from the week, so I cross the hall to where Steele's wrapping up with Andrew. "Gym?"
"Sparky's meeting me in fifteen. Want to join?"
"You bet." Sparky, Steele's fiancée, used to be our coxswain and team trainer before she snagged a spot on the women's national boat. Now that she's officially retired, Steele's begged her to come back to the gym.
Sparky's waiting when I come out of the locker room. I bend to kiss her cheek. "Great to see you back here. And congratulations."
Her brown eyes sparkle. "Thanks. You too. But you're stalling. 10k alternating sprints on the treadmill."
I groan. Sparky's a five-foot-tall human torture device. I hit the treadmill and Steele joins me a moment later. It's been ages since I've run alternating sprints. They're brutal - alternating miles of eight-hundred sprints, then four-hundred, two-hundred, and worst of all alternating one-hundred-meter sprints for a mile before bumping back to eight-hundreds and doing it all again. By the time we get to the hundreds, my calves are on fire. But that's just the beginning. Sparky takes us through thousand-meter sprints on the erg, and follows with weights and stretching. By the time we quit, I'm spent, every muscle in my body pushed to the point of fatigue.
"Feel better?" Steele asks, after he drains a recovery shake. "You looked like you were ready to slay a dragon when we got back to the office."
"I'll feel better when I see Penny," I confess. I justify the moment of honesty as keeping up with the charade, but for a wild, intense second, I find myself wishing it wasn't a charade.
Steele grins, shaking his head. "I have to say, I never saw you as the marrying kind. And I certainly never imagined you with anyone like Penny. But the more I think about it, the more I think you're perfect for each other."
"What do you mean?"
"She's unafraid to put you in your place. She's always been the first person to laugh at your bluster, and whether you'll admit it or not, you've always been in love with her mind. There aren't too many people on the planet who match you in intellect, let alone surpass you. The two of you will never get bored with each other." He claps me on the shoulder. "I'm happy for you, man."
This part of the conversation makes me cringe inwardly. Everything he's said is true, but what's he going to think when we break it off and Penny leaves for g
ood? He won't be so happy for me then. But there's no way we can continue to work together after we "break up" - one of us will have to leave Steele Conglomerate. And that will kill Steele.
By six-thirty, I've showered, shaved, and changed, and am waiting impatiently at the historic bar of what used to be the old Savoy, one of Kansas City's most famous downtown hotels. My mother's booked their top floor for the evening and brought in a jazz combo. At six-thirty-five, there's still no sign of Penny. I wave off the bartender and glance toward the door, idly watching a young woman with auburn hair push through the rotating doors and pause, scanning the bar. Her eyes light when she catches me staring and she breaks into a smile as she heads my direction. And then it hits me like a sledgehammer. "Penny?"
I recognize the tattoos on her arm, but that's it. She's traded her black and pink hair for beachy red waves that shimmer in the light. She looks... breathtaking in a slinky green silk cocktail dress that's austere in its simplicity. The hemline stops right below her knees and she's wearing strappy gold stilettos. I blink and shake my head, brain not believing what my eyes are telling me. I stand and meet her at the edge of the bar, pulling her in for a kiss and hoping like hell she doesn't care about smudging her red lipstick. I've never seen Penny wear lipstick of any kind, and the red just exaggerates the pouty, kissable quality of her lips that already drives me to distraction.
"Wow," I say when we part, inhaling the spicy sexy scent of her. I keep my hand at her hip then bend to kiss her again, threading my other hand through her silky locks. I can't get over the transformation. Her eyes crinkle when I pull away, and I see she's exchanged her heavy black eyeliner for something softer. "You look incredible."
"Thank you," she murmurs, cheeks flushing the prettiest shade of pink. She pulls in a breath, chest rising. "I was a little nervous," she admits, eyes darting back to mine as if looking for some kind of reassurance.
"Is this why you avoided me all week?"
"I wasn't avoiding you."
"You were totally avoiding me."
"It took multiple visits to the salon, but I wasn't avoiding you. I figured you wouldn't want me bothering you unnecessarily."
"It never bothers me to talk to you," I grumble, pushing away the feelings that begin to press against my sternum. "I missed you," I confess before the pressure becomes too great. Her smile broadens, and I can't stop staring at her mouth. "I'm going to keep kissing you, lipstick or not."
She winks. "I bought the non-smudgy kind."
"Good." I kiss her again to make my point, then usher her to the bar. "I have something for you," I tell her once we're settled and I've ordered two flutes of champagne.
"Oh?" Her eyes light with curiosity, and I realize I've been waiting to see this look for days. I reach into the inside pocket of my suit jacket and pull out a small box. "What's this?"
I give her the box, eyes riveted to her face watching for the first sign of her reaction. She flips the lid and her eyes go round, mouth parting in a tiny gasp that makes my balls pull tight because it's the same sound she lets out when I tongue her clit. She pulls the delicate necklace from its box, letting the chain hang from her fingers as she examines the filigree butterfly with a seed pearl body and emerald antennae that closely resembles in miniature the butterfly on the inside of her left wrist.
"It made me think of you."
"I love it," she responds instantly. "It's beautiful."
"Not half as beautiful as you." I mean it, too. For as long as I live, I'll never forget the way Penny looks right now, red hair falling around her face, cheeks pink, eyes sparkling with wonder.
"Help me put it on?" She turns sideways and pulls up her hair, exposing the nape of her neck. I kiss the bare spot before securing the clasp. A shiver ripples down her back and when she turns back to me, her nipples have pulled into taut peaks.
I cover a curse. "What I wouldn't give for a secluded alcove right now," I murmur into her ear, inhaling another hit of her perfume.
She lets out a quiet laugh. "I'm glad you like it. Like this," she gestures to her dress.
"Are you kidding me? I love it. All of it. It's perfectly you."
Her face lights. "You think?"
"Black and pink hair and torn jeans are you too, don't get me wrong. But this is more you in every way." My dick soundly agrees, because I'm willing to bet she's going commando under that heavy silk satin. I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear because I can't seem to stop touching her, and caress her cheek. "Forgive me for staring."
Heat flares in her eyes. "I missed you, too," she murmurs, raising her glass to her lips.
"Wait, a toast," I say, raising my own glass. "To new beginnings."
She holds my gaze as we drink, and something inside me cracks wide open. Or maybe it slides home. Whatever it is, I recognize I'm hooked. Black hair or red, ripped jeans or cocktail dress, I don't care, because all of it's perfectly Penny. The realization should scare me. I should be running for the hills. Instead, a lightness comes over me and the same kind of knowing that I had the night we dreamed Steele Conglomerate into existence. I don't know why it's taken me four years to see it. Penny has always been my destiny. I have no idea how to make her fall in love with me, but I'm going to figure it out. I'm going to give her everything she's dreamed of and more.
Her brows knit together briefly. "What? What is it?"
I lean in for another kiss. "All roads lead to Penny," I say taking her hand in mine and kissing the back of it.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she asks with a quiet laugh.
"Just that I'm very glad to be home." I drain my glass. "Come on. The sooner we go up, the sooner we can leave."
"I like how you think." She gives me a look that's all smolder. I help Penny down from the stool and tuck her against my side as we make our way to the elevator. "Do you think your mother's going to choke on her martini when she sees me?" she asks as we wait for the doors to open.
Harrison's words ring in my head as we enter the car. Never boring. "I'm sure she'll be shocked and pleased, because on the outside, at least, you'll look like you fit in."
Her mouth thins. "I'll never fit in with her people," she says sharply.
"I know. And I don't want you to." I catch her by the shoulders and stare down at her. "I don't care what color your hair is or what you wear. You're brilliant and beautiful just as you are, Penny. No matter what happens upstairs, we're in this together."
"Be careful," she says with a husky quality to her voice. "Anyone listening would think you're in love."
"Would it be such a bad thing? If I were?"
Her mouth curves up, but before she can answer the doors open to the party in full swing. My mother, ever the perfect hostess, is stationed drink in hand at the entrance. She catches my eye then sees Penny. She blinks slowly, then pinches her lips together before breaking into a glass smile. "Darling." She lays a hand on my arm, air kissing me. "How was your trip?"
"Very productive." She doesn't really want to know.
She turns to Penny. "To what do we owe this magnificent transformation? You're positively radiant, my dear."
"Slow week at the office," she deadpans. I cover a laugh.
"Yes, well, everyone's dying to meet you," my mother answers stiffly. She turns to me. "You'll make the rounds?"
"Of course." I bend and kiss her cheek. I take Penny's hand and lead her into the party.
The first power couple we meet, of course, are Robert and Muffy. Muffy doesn't even try to hide her shock at Penny's transformation. "Penny, why you look-"
"Positively radiant?" she finishes for Muffy. "Thank you. It's all the great sex." She tilts her head my direction. "Mr. O, here," she says with a wink. Robert chokes on his cocktail and Muffy turns almost purple.
I bite the inside of my cheek, trying my damndest not to laugh, while giving Penny a warning squeeze at her hip. "Come along, dear, there's someone I want to introduce you to." I whisk her away before Muffy passes out.
"Too much?" she as
ks, eyes sparkling.
"Definitely too much. Try and remember this is my mother's idea of an olive branch."
"Noted." She takes a fried mozzarella ball from a passing tray and pops the whole thing in her mouth, eyeing me as she slowly licks her fingers.
"Tease," I mutter as my cock takes notice and all the things I'd like Penny to lick screen through my head like a movie reel.
"All that and more," she taunts quietly, eyes glittering like hot green coals.
The next forty minutes are spent in a whirlwind of introductions peppered with the occasional salty comment by Penny while I try valiantly to bat down my erection by thinking of saggy boobs and kankles until my mother calls for the toast.
My mother loves nothing more than center stage, probably something left over from her years as a dancer, but she positively beams when all eyes turn to her. "As you know, I was extremely surprised a few weeks ago when my son announced, after years of my badgering, that he had found a life partner. I have had the pleasure of knowing Penny casually for close to four years, and she is both brilliant, and beautiful. And in time, I'm sure she'll also be a wonderful mother to my grandchildren."
Beside me Penny stiffens.
"While they haven't yet set a date, you can be sure that it will be the celebration of the year. In the meantime, please join me in toasting my son and his bride, Stockton and Penny."
As far as toasts go, it could have been much worse, but the frozen expression on Penny's face says otherwise.
Cynthia Hyatt, who has been standing next to us, leans in with a conspiratorial smile. "I know Honore is just counting the days until she can hold a grandbaby."
Penny comes to life, eyes flashing. "Do I look like breeding stock? Well? Do I?" she asks, but doesn't give Cynthia a chance to respond. "Honore will have grandchildren when men figure out how to squeeze babies through their penis holes." She glares at Cynthia then takes my arm. "Come on Stockton, we're going home to have sex. Not procreate."
Yep. Definitely not boring.
Chapter Sixteen