by Eden Summers
A bright smile beamed back at them. “From my knowledge, yes, she is staying in a room booked under his name.”
“Fuck.” Penelope swung around again. “Do you still want to do this?”
He inclined his head, prepared for whatever punishment he had to take. It hadn’t escaped his mind that she might have gone home to her ex. The guy had been all over her during the wedding, only pausing his affection to try his luck with Penelope.
“Give me a room number.”
“806,” the receptionist rattled off without looking at her screen.
“That’s Savannah’s room?”
“Oh, no.” The woman snickered and tippy tapped on her keyboard. “You didn’t specify. And besides, I can’t give you that information. It’s not only a breach—”
“Yes, yes, a breach of company policy.”
“—it’s also a safety issue…” She lowered her voice. “However, if I go to the bathroom and someone looks at the search I’ve pulled up on my screen, it’s beyond my control.” The woman stepped back from her computer and unclipped a security pass from her pants pocket. “I’m just going to leave this here.” She slid the plastic card next to her keyboard as she eyed the other receptionist on the far end of the desk.
Penelope didn’t spare a second waiting for the woman to leave. She snatched the security card, handed it over her shoulder to him, then turned the computer monitor around.
“There’s two rooms under his name.” She spared him a quick glance. “509 and the penthouse.”
He held up a hand. “Five.” He was pinning his hopes on Spencer booking the penthouse for himself and a standard room for Savannah.
Pinning and praying.
“Lead the way.”
He strode through the chaos of the lobby, maneuvering around employees taking furniture into the building and others who were taking it out. The elevator ride was hell. Thirty seconds of contemplative agony, where he questioned his motives.
Then his knuckles were on door 509 and he began to knock with hard strokes.
“Do you want me to say anything specific?” Penelope asked.
He shook his head and stared at the door, wordlessly begging it to open. A ragged breath tore from his lungs, then another, and another until the lock released and he was staring at the woman who owned him.
She stood in the doorway, dressed in a long navy skirt and buttoned up cream blouse that clung tight to her breasts. She was the epitome of his future, his happiness rolled up into one sensational package of sexy legs, gorgeous hazel eyes, and the unmistakable jut of her dignified chin.
The mere sight of her made him feel worthless and determined to succeed at the same time. Hopeless and hopeful.
“Mr. Black?” Her expression was schooled, not an ounce of shock showing through her composed features. “Can I help you?”
He squared his shoulders and tried to relax. Tried and failed spectacularly. “We n-n-need—” Fuck. He hated that sound. Despised it. There wasn’t an inch of his skin that wasn’t crawling from revulsion, but he’d withstand it. He’d do anything. For her. “T-to talk.”
She blinked at him, one hand clutching the door, the other pressed against the frame. “Is this about settlement? Because Spencer would be the best person to speak to. I’m only here to ensure all Rydel property is taken from the building and to say goodbye to friends.”
Her voice had wavered the slightest bit. She wasn’t unaffected by him, and the knowledge encouraged confidence.
“No,” he mouthed.
“Everything under control, Savannah?” The male voice carried from her room, practically neutering him.
She kept her gaze trained on his as a large, familiar frame came up behind her.
Spencer.
Fucker.
The guy placed a hand on her shoulder, a protective hand Keenan would’ve wanted to break on a good day, but when it caused Savannah to stiffen, he itched to fracture every bone in the man’s body.
“I’m fine.” She stepped to the side, letting the asshole through. “Can you give me a minute?”
“Sure.” Spencer jerked his chin in greeting. “Good to see you both again.” His tone implied otherwise.
“You, too,” Penelope added after seconds of awkward silence.
Keenan sensed the guy’s departure but didn’t take his focus from Savannah who stood tall before him, waiting for answers.
“Can we come inside?” Penelope broke the silence.
“Why?” Savannah addressed him. “If it’s not about the settlement, then there’s nothing else to discuss.”
“Quit the charade,” Penelope muttered, “and just let him explain.”
“The charade?” Savannah shot a glare at her cousin. “That’s rich.”
He pulled his cell, prepared to type whatever he could to gain enough trust to buy some time.
“Save it.”
He glanced up to see her eying his phone. There was no malice, no anger. She was devoid of emotion. Entirely flat.
“I don’t want any more explanations.”
Penelope sighed, long and pained and deep. “Don’t you care about what he’s been through?”
“What he’s been through?” Something formidable sparked to life in Savannah’s eyes. “Are you oblivious to what you’ve put me through? What you put the staff through? Christ. How can you think I’d even want to speak to you after what you’ve done?”
“I felt the same way when you came back to Seattle. So please forgive me if I lack sympathy. But this isn’t about me. It’s about Keenan and how he risked his health to be with you. Didn’t you notice how tired he was from the drugs? How he—”
Fuck. He grabbed the crook of Penelope’s arm and gave her a squeeze of warning.
The woman who had become his closest confidant looked him in the eye. “I knew, Keenan. And I hated every minute of it. You put yourself through hell and you did it all for her.”
“You need to leave,” Savannah murmured.
Hell, yes, she did. Penelope wasn’t doing him any favors. He tightened his grip, pleading. “Go.” He released his hold and jerked his head toward the elevator. “Please.”
“She needs to understand,” Penelope continued. “Maybe then she’ll let go of her pride.”
“Go,” he mouthed again. This wasn’t about anyone else’s pride. Only his.
“All right.” She nodded, her eyes filled with regret. “I’m sorry. But please tell her.” He watched her retreat down the hall, his courage leaving with her.
Tension surrounded him. It was thick and tangible in the air. Nothing he did would get rid of it. There were no words, no actions. Nothing.
“Drugs?” Savannah murmured.
He sighed and met her gaze. She’d leaned against the door jamb, her arms crossed protectively over her chest.
“Medication,” he whispered, ensuring his voice remained strong.
If he could continue to speak like this, he could tell her everything. She could have all his secrets. All his promises. He’d never considered the ability to sing or whisper as a saving grace. He still didn’t because it didn’t change a thing in the professional world. But he’d do anything today. He’d whisper to Savannah until his dying breath if he had to.
“Those last weeks, you were always exhausted. Was that from the medication?”
He inclined his head. The same side effects had plagued him as a child, when his father had tried to medicate the stutter out of him with Xanax. Lethargy, nausea, and insomnia were all he got out of it. Both times the treatment failed.
“What was it meant to do?”
“Lessen the stutter,” his voice was barely audible. “Make it easier for me to face you when I finally explained.”
“You were going to tell me?”
He looked into those hazel eyes and gave an honest shrug. “I don’t know. I wanted to.”
She released an impassive breath of laughter.
“Well…” She shoved from the wall to stand tall. “Thanks for the clarity, b
ut I don’t know what you expect from me.”
She knew. He could tell by the tremble in her fingers and the nervous swallow of her throat.
He chanced a step closer and leaned into her with his heart in his hands. “I expect nothing. But I would love your forgiveness.” He remained in place, so close to the soft temptation of her skin.
Her breath hitched, her chest expanded. “Is that all?”
She inched back, ripping the floor out from beneath him. He’d thought all he needed was to see her, to explain face to face. To whisper those words he’d wanted her to hear over and over again. But her expression was indifferent. Unemotional. She was successfully cutting him off.
She’d moved on.
“Please…” His throat was hoarse, from the influx of work, or maybe it was from fear. “Give me another chance.”
“I don’t think I can.” She shook her head. “I don’t think I want to.”
“Just one,” he mouthed. That’s all he needed. One more chance. One more opportunity to share all of him and prove he could make her happy.
“One more to go with the two you already destroyed?” She quirked a pained brow. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. But a third time? Come on, Keenan. I’m not that stupid and neither are you. You knew what you were doing and the results it would have if I found out.”
There was no denying the truth. He’d had one too many opportunities already.
“Okay.” Pain ricocheted through him with his stiff nod.
He’d never hated his inadequacies more. And compounding his self-loathing was the knowledge of his idiotic behavior—the ego, the need to protect his secrets.
He wanted to hug her. Just once. To kiss her cheek and inhale the scent of her that would never be comparable. Instead, he pivoted on his toes and stalked toward the elevator, determined not to look back.
“Keenan?”
Fuck. He stopped. Turned.
She stepped into the hall and gave him a sad smile. “Just so you know, I adored you, too. I adored everything about you. The stutter wouldn’t have changed a thing.”
Then she was gone, slinking into her room and shutting the door on the only thing he’d ever cared about.
Email
Date: 30th December
Subject: Chances
Dear Keenan,
I’m finding it hard to gain closure. Something in my chest isn’t sitting right. So I was hoping this email might help.
I want you to know that I did fight for you. You just didn’t see it.
The battle was internal. I combatted the pain of not being good enough, and the heartache of humiliation. I brawled with self-doubt and struggled to overcome things that were out of my control. But now I see that you’ve been trying to conquer all those things for a lot longer than me.
Please know that I did read your emails, your texts, and kept all your gifts. You words—written or otherwise—have always meant the world to me.
You also mean the world to the Augustines, so please don’t shut them out.
Over the past two weeks, I’ve been given a wealth of information on all things Keenan Black. My aunt calls me incessantly. It seems she picks up the phone whenever she’s reminded of something you’ve done to make her smile.
Apparently, you’ve made her smile often.
She wants you to be happy. And believe it or not, Penny and Dominic do, too. I never thought I’d see the day when the cousin who hates me and the one who warned me away from you would both team together to play matchmaker.
No matter how alone you feel, you have some truly great friends at your side. Please don’t push them away. I know Dominic is giving you a hard time, but he’ll get over it. He can’t be too angry if he’s leaving messages on my voicemail that pertain to your sexual prowess and how I’ll soon learn that I can’t live without it.
Anyway, I better get going. I just wanted you to know there’s no hard feelings on my side. And I hope there’s none on yours.
I still think you’re remarkable.
And, hey, maybe it shouldn’t be a case of two chances too many. Maybe it’s third time lucky. Who knows?
For now, I’m going to take a break from Rydel and see where the world takes me.
Savannah
Chapter Thirty-One
“She hasn’t left Seattle.”
Keenan kept his attention on the road, pretending he didn’t know who Penelope was talking about as he drove her ass home. Her broken down car story was a load of shit. Her problem was a case of wanting to drink for New Year’s and the expectation that he would be her chauffeur.
Not likely. He was going to dump and run.
Spending the night at Mrs. Augustine’s, drinking with Dominic who wanted to gut him, and Penelope who was suddenly more overprotective than usual, was as inviting as a prostate exam from his high school gym teacher.
“Mom said Savannah’s not handling losing you.” He could see her shrug in his periphery. “I don’t blame her. Been there. Done that. Created the theme park in my mind so I never forget it.”
Fuck. He ground his molars and pressed his toes harder on the accelerator, a one-track mind set on getting the fuck out of this conversation. The settlement had been hard enough. He’d had to sit across the table from Spencer, his imagination running wild with all the ways the asshole would’ve comforted Savannah. And he would’ve comforted her. He could see it in the man’s eyes. Could tell the guy was out for blood and pleased he was on the winning team.
“I know you didn’t want to tell me how you ended things the other day, but maybe you should get in contact with her again. Just once. Ya know, for closure.”
Nope. Not going there. He’d been castrated by the email Savannah sent yesterday. Castrated over and over and over again until he was certain he’d never regain his masculinity. A reply wouldn’t gain closure. It would only prolong the misery and the unending loop of castration.
“Would you want to see her again?”
Fuck. He slammed his palms against the steering wheel and shot her a glare.
“Just asking…”
He turned onto Mrs. Augustine’s street and contemplated booting Penelope out the door without slowing. He wouldn’t even pause. Before him, the tree-lined street housed less than the usual herd of cars associated with an Augustine party. There were only one or two. Dominic’s Mustang included. The subdued gathering wouldn’t change his mind, though. Anything less than solitary confinement would be a chore.
He pulled into the drive, stopped before the garage, and waited for Penelope to get the fuck out.
“You’re not coming in?”
He was still glaring at her. How could she not see that?
“Mom will be furious. I think she prepared something special in the hopes you’d show.”
He jerked a thumb toward the house, telling her to get out.
“Fine. Be a dick.” She shoved open the passenger door and slid from the car. “But before you go. You might want to check out the porch.”
His gaze traveled to the place in question, where Dominic stood before the front door, scowl in place, beer bottle raising to his mouth.
Nope. Definitely not a welcome party he was willing to be greeted by.
“Is that enough inspiration to hang around?”
He glared at Penelope, signed fuck-no and jammed the gearstick into reverse.
She gaped in return, her surprise catching him off guard. “You really don’t want to see her?”
Her? He looked again, scouring the porch from one side of the building all the way along to the lone figure standing at the far corner. At first, he thought it was a trick of the dwindling daylight. An apparition. But the more he narrowed his eyes, the clearer the vision became.
And she was a vision.
A sight to behold.
“Savannah,” he whispered her name and felt it echo through his ears. What the fuck was she doing here?
He couldn’t tear his concentration from her as she c
ame to stand against the railing, her lips parted slightly, her eyes wary. There wasn’t an inch of him that knew how to react. He was frozen in confusion. Mesmerized. Completely awestruck by the simplicity of her gloved hands clutching the balustrade and her pink cheeks framed by the raised collar of her jacket.
Why? he signed.
“Like I said, she’s having trouble letting go. I don’t think it helps when Mom, Dominic, and I are berating her to give you another chance.”
He pulled his focus from the porch and met Penelope’s gaze.
“You do love her, don’t you?” Her heartache was evident. Her resolution, too.
There was no need to ponder. He nodded, slow and confident. “I do.”
She smiled, but the happiness didn’t reach her glassy eyes. “Then give her everything this time. More than you give my mom, or Dominic, and even me. Be yourself, Keenan. And let her love you back.”
She shut the door between them, leaving him to sink into his seat, the engine still rumbling beneath him as she walked toward her brother, then into the house. He still didn’t need to contemplate how he wanted this night to end. The outcome his heart pounded for was set in stone. But for the first time in years, he questioned his worth.
It seemed he’d spent a lifetime trying to prove himself to others, to convince them of his value. Now he was the one who couldn’t see it. He wasn’t entirely sure that ‘being himself’ was going to be enough. Not for her.
He wondered if she considered his silence petulant, like his father did. Or if she’d give him ultimatums to ensure he spoke aloud, like his mother had. No. He shook his head and cut the engine. He would never have fallen in love with a woman capable of that. And he was in love—wholeheartedly, undeniably, even unintentionally.
He grabbed his cell from the center console and slid from the car. His expression was devoid of the hope he carried in his chest as he came to stand before Dominic, waiting for the inevitable assault he wasn’t sure would come in physical or verbal form.
“I’m not warning her anymore.” Dominic took a gulp of his beer, his scowl fixed. “I’ll warn you, though. Do right by her this time or we’re done. You hear m—”