by Penny Reid
Number four would have to do it. I’d pledge at least five years of holidays as penance. So be it.
Plus, I was going to have to make up a lie about why I hadn’t called yet, and it was going to have to be good. If I told her the truth, that I’d forgotten, it would legitimately hurt her feelings. There was nothing I wouldn’t do—including lie, cheat, and steal—to avoid hurting my mom’s feelings.
Getting on the elevator, I pressed the button for my floor and leaned against the cushioned velvet wall, tired. So damn tired. I couldn’t wait to sleep in my own bed.
But first things first. I’d apologize to Steven and then spend some time with Wally while I called my mom.
As soon as I opened the door to my apartment, I called out, “Hey, Steven. Sorry I'm so fucking late. Quinn has me doing this fucking thing with the corporate division, and those fancy fuckers need more hand-holding than my one-year-old nephew. I swear, I thought that Townsend douchebag was going to ask me to jerk him off.”
I pulled at the tie around my neck, grateful to remove the noose. Laying the tie over my jacket, I tossed both to the chair in the entryway, frowning at the darkness.
And the silence.
“Steven?”
No answer. But then a lamp switched on someplace in the family room, the light spilling into the hallway as I unbuttoned my collar and the top three buttons of my shirt.
And where the hell was Wally? Typically he waited by the door, ready to lash me with his whip of a tail.
Wally was always a bundle of energy whenever I came home. Didn't matter the time of day, he’d wag his tail so hard sometimes he’d knock himself over. I’d adopted him when he was only six weeks old. Now he was four, but I swear, he still acted like a puppy, loved to be held.
My boy was a good-sized dog, a Labrador/terrier mix—plus some other stuff, I was sure—so the best kind of dog, with the best personality traits from each breed in his ancestry. Smart, friendly, gentle and patient with kids. I was convinced that dog had a sixth sense about things, especially people.
For example, Wally didn’t like Seamus. Every time he’d come around, Wally would growl and bark, didn’t want Seamus touching him.
He knew my brother was a nasty fucker. You could tell a lot about a person based on how they interacted with animals. I didn’t trust people who didn’t like dogs; they’re not my people. How could you dislike dogs? They’re the best fucking thing about this planet, with hockey, sex, and a good Irish whiskey taking places two, three, and four.
Plus, dogs were loyal. There’s nothing more loyal than a dog. Probably because they had their priorities straight: food, sleep, and chasing shit.
But enough about my awesome dog, for now.
Unbuttoning the right cuff of my suit shirt, I strolled into the main room. “Steven, again, I’m sorry about being so late. If I—”
Holy shit.
I stopped short, rocking back on my heels, staring like a dummy at the wholly unanticipated image of Kat Tanner rubbing her eyes as she ungracefully stood from the couch. And Wally lifting his head from where he’d been curled up next to her.
“Kat.”
“Hi, Dan.”
I was dreaming. It was the only explanation. I was already asleep and this was one of my fantasies, because Kat was the only woman who’d consistently starred in my dirty dreams.
This was a dream. I almost crossed the room and kissed her. But I didn’t, because Wally was there. Wally had never been a star player in my fantasies, and I believed that made me 100% normal.
Wide-eyed, I stared at her, having no words. If my sisters were here, they’d have a field day, seeing me tongue-tied and brain-dead.
Luckily, she filled the silence as Wally jumped off the couch and rushed to me, as though just realizing I’d arrived. What a stinker.
“Steven let me in. He said I could wait for you. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No,” I said too fast, but it was already out and there was no taking it back. So I cleared my throat and tried to sound less like some loser, eager for her company. “No, I don’t mind.” I bent to pat my boy and take a damn minute to compose myself. “Is Steven still here?”
“No. He left at six. He offered to take Wally, but I thought—and I hope I didn’t overstep—I thought since I was here and waiting anyway . . .” She gestured to my boy. His tail beat an enthusiastic rhythm against my leg as though Wally knew a beautiful woman was talking about him.
He trotted back to her and rubbed his head under her hand. She immediately patted him and rubbed his ears. Wally sighed like he was in heaven.
Lucky dog.
“I hope that’s okay,” she repeated, looking guarded.
But then, she always looked guarded.
“Yeah.” I nodded, waving away her concern. “Yeah. Makes sense.” I sounded winded. My chest was doing that shitty thing where it felt too tight, or too full.
Not helping matters, she looked gorgeous. Her hair was a mess, a sexy mess, mussed from sleep, big and poofy, falling over her face and shoulders. Her eyes were drowsy and her clothes were rumpled. I liked her like this, so different from the starched-shirt façade from earlier in the day.
Get a fucking hold of yourself, Daniel. Obviously she needs something. She didn’t wait here all day so she could hump your leg.
But the thought that she’d waited for me, and might need something from me, was almost as intoxicating as if she’d actually come here to hump my leg. To put it plainly, I wasn’t about to turn either request down.
“So, uh.” I tried to take a deep breath. I couldn’t. “Is there something you need?” I walked to the bureau to put some distance between us. She was too close. Four feet with anyone else was fine and dandy. Four feet with Kat, alone in my apartment, was suffocating.
“I . . .” I heard her take a breath. Then another, louder this time.
I glanced over my shoulder, found she was holding herself, her arms tight around her middle. That made me frown.
“Okay. Okay.” She nodded, obviously talking to herself.
Finally, my stupid brain moved beyond the shock of seeing her, her being here, and all the clutter of hopes and dirty dreams her presence inspired. I looked at her. I really, fucking looked.
She was scared.
A jolt of alarm had me crossing to her before I could check the instinct. Holding her shoulders, I angled my chin to catch her eyes.
“Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“I need your help.”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s . . . it’s—I can’t believe I’m going to ask you this.” She exhaled a laugh, sounding a little guilty, like always.
“You need money?”
“No.” She shook her head adamantly. “No. I’m actually here to offer you money.”
I let my hands drop and backed up, lifting my chin. The fact she was here to offer me money landed like a blow. Or at the very least, it felt like a papercut. It stung.
Sure, we weren’t close, but we were friendly. At least, I thought we were. You don’t pay friends, it was the eleventh commandment, right after not coveting thy neighbor’s cow.
Thou shalt not covet cows. Oh yeah, and don’t offer to pay your friends either.
Dropping my chin, I tried not to glare at her. But I’m pretty sure I did.
“I don’t want your money. You need something, just ask.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It is that simple. It’s the ABC’s of friendship, Kat.”
She looked a little startled. “We’re friends?”
Ugh. Fuck a duck.
Then she took a small step forward, and she looked hopeful.
Ugh. Fuck another duck.
“Yeah. ’Course we’re friends.” I wiped my hand across my mouth, then shoved it in my pocket.
What I didn’t say was . . . a lot.
She was twisting her fingers again, like she’d done today in the lobby. “What if I pay you—”
�
�How about this. Why don’t you tell me what you need first? Then we’ll discuss the money after. Okay?”
She hesitated, then nodded, her breath coming faster. “Okay, okay.” Again, I got the impression she was speaking to herself. “I can do this.”
Another spike of alarm had me wanting to touch her again, but I didn’t. From the look of it, whatever was bothering her, whatever brought her here, must’ve been a big deal.
I tried to keep the worry out of my voice, gently prodding, “Start from the beginning.”
“The story is too long. Can I just—.” She paused to swallow, her eyes pleading. “Can I just tell you the end?”
“Fine, tell me the end.”
She was really freaking me out here.
“I need . . .”
“Yes?”
Her chin wobbled. “I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t an emergency.”
“Anything. It’s yours. Just ask. Please,” I begged.
I swear, this woman. My heart was beating a million miles a minute. She clearly had no idea the kind of power she had over me. Or maybe she did, and this torture was on purpose.
“Dan.”
“Kat.”
She reached into her pocket and took out a small velvet box. Her hands were shaking as she opened it, revealing two plain gold rings. One was thicker and bigger, obviously meant for a guy. The other was small, for a woman’s finger.
Does she want me to pawn them?
I glanced between her and the box, waiting.
“Dan. I want . . . will you marry me?”
Pre-order Marriage of Inconvenience releasing March 6th, 2018
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About the Author
Penny Reid lives in Seattle, Washington with her husband, three kids, and an inordinate amount of yarn. She used to spend her days writing federal grant proposals as a biomedical researcher, but now she writes books.
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Read on for:
Penny Reid’s Booklist (current and planned publications)
Other books by Penny Reid
Knitting in the City Series
(Contemporary Romantic Comedy)
Neanderthal Seeks Human: A Smart Romance (#1)
Neanderthal Marries Human: A Smarter Romance (#1.5)
Friends without Benefits: An Unrequited Romance (#2)
Love Hacked: A Reluctant Romance (#3)
Beauty and the Mustache: A Philosophical Romance (#4)
Ninja at First Sight (#4.75)
Happily Ever Ninja: A Married Romance (#5)
Dating-ish: A Humanoid Romance (#6)
Marriage of Inconvenience (#7)
Winston Brothers Series
(Contemporary Romantic Comedy, spinoff of Beauty and the Mustache)
Truth or Beard (#1)
Grin and Beard It (#2)
Beard Science (#3)
Beard in Mind (#4)
Dr. Strange Beard (#5, coming 2018)
Beard with Me (#5.5, coming 2019)
Beard Necessities (#6, coming 2019)
Hypothesis Series
(New Adult Romantic Comedy)
Elements of Chemistry: ATTRACTION, HEAT, and CAPTURE (#1)
Laws of Physics: MOTION, SPACE, and TIME (#2, coming 2018)
Fundamentals of Biology: STRUCTURE, EVOLUTION, and GROWTH (#3, coming 2019)
Irish Players (Rugby) Series – by L.H. Cosway and Penny Reid
(Contemporary Sports Romance)
The Hooker and the Hermit (#1)
The Pixie and the Player (#2)
The Cad and the Co-ed (#3)