by Gina Gordon
“What is that supposed to mean?” After a moment of sputtering, he looked over at her and barked, “He’s turning you against us.”
She forced herself to respond. “I…”
She looked up at Cole. He urged her on with a nod, but she had nothing. He had just stuck his neck out for her, and she didn’t even have enough courage to stick up for herself. Or for him.
“Harold, dear. Everyone is waiting.” Her mother placed her hand gently on her father’s arm, without even looking at him. She was staring right at Penn.
“I’m not fin—”
“Yes, you are.” Her mom glared at her dad. It was…weird. Margot Foster never came between the Sergeant and an argument. “We have to announce the winner.”
She tugged on his arm, her father letting out a disgruntled huff. But he took one more moment to stare down Cole, who gave it back to him in return.
When it was just the two of them, she hung her head.
“He shouldn’t have said any of those things. I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have—”
“I never thought I’d say this, but I miss your big mouth. I hate seeing you like this.” He feathered his fingers through her hair, but she shrugged away. “Christ, Penn.”
Tears stung behind her eyelids, but she blinked them away. She would not cry. She would not let the words of this man affect her so deeply. Because once they got back home, she might have to make a choice. And the odds were, that choice wouldn’t include being with Cole.
Cole showing up in Hawaii had been the best thing to ever happen to her. And maybe, when they untangled themselves from between the bed sheets and went back to their regular, non-sexual lives, their friendship would be stronger because of it. But until then…
She had a trophy to win.
They walked, out of sync, into the dining room. Cole lagged two steps behind. Despite the edge between them, she wasn’t going to let the confrontation ruin dinner.
She and Cole had totally kicked scavenger hunt ass. Kicked it right in the tuckus. He sat beside her, a cocky grin curving his mouth. The fact that he was here, supporting her, meant more to her than…well, than the trophy.
And you didn’t have his back.
She looked around the table. Ian’s arm was draped across his wife’s shoulders, his hand absently rubbing her arm. Dave was pounding back a beer with a big smile on his face because he assumed, as he had for the last five years, he and Beth had won. And then there was Pete. Who was neither here nor there when it came to family competitions, but that didn’t mean he didn’t try his best. He just didn’t throw it in anyone else’s face. Which she appreciated.
But at the end of the day, they were her brothers, her ultimate competition, and she’d set out this year to beat them any way she could. In a few minutes she’d be holding that cup, a winner in their eyes for the very first time. Hopefully, overshadowing every stupid thing she’d done on this trip.
Cole’s phone beeped inside his jacket pocket. She’d asked him to leave it in the room. As he pulled it out, she frowned. Cell phones at the table were a Foster no-no.
“Put that away,” she whispered. He gave her a look.
The moment she saw the twitch in Cole’s jaw, she knew. Something wasn’t right.
“Something more interesting than this table, Mr. Murphy?” her father asked.
Cole had embarrassed him outside the restaurant. She knew his disapproving tone was a way to regain some of his control.
But by the look in Cole’s eyes, there was something more interesting going on. The only question was whether it was a good interesting or a bad interesting. He shook it off and slunk back into his seat, mouthing, “Sorry.”
When the waiter had taken their orders, Penn couldn’t stand the awkward silence at the table. The tension between her and Cole was palpable, and she wanted to get down to business. “Can you just give me the cup now, so we can end this?”
“What makes you think you won?” Dave muttered.
“Because I got the bonus item—a selfie with a koi fish. Did any of you?” She crossed her arms over her chest and scanned their faces. She didn’t think so.
Her father looked at her with sympathy. “I’m afraid you didn’t win.”
She stared at him blankly. “I’m sorry, what?” She did not just hear that.
“Yes!” Beth celebrated with a fist pump.
Oh, hell, no. “How is that possible? We made great time.”
“And we got the selfie,” Cole interjected. By the look of shock on his face, he couldn’t believe it, either.
She’d felt the win, deep in her bones.
“Dave and Beth still had a better time, even when I subtracted the ten minutes,” her father explained.
“But—”
Dave jumped up and hugged his father with one arm and his wife with the other.
“But we got the selfie,” Penn mumbled under her breath.
Her father handed Dave and Beth the trophy.
Penn couldn’t believe it.
She’d wasted Cole’s time. She’d taken him away from the thing he loved the most. She’d even tried to show her family who she’d become.
It had all been for nothing. All of it.
“You need to be faster next time.” Dave’s winning grin made her sick. “Even with a ringer, you can’t beat me, Pennie.”
His phone beeped again, and he immediately took his phone out of his pocket and hid it under the table.
When he looked at the text, a funny look settled on his face. He’d been so happy all week that she’d almost forgotten what he looked like when sadness took over.
He blew out a heavy breath and stood. “I’ve got to go.” He took off through the dining room, with no explanation.
“Cole?” She called after him, but he didn’t turn around. Didn’t stop.
She moved her chair out of the way to follow him, but she halted when her father’s stern voice broke the silence of the table. “Not so fast, young lady.”
Something had to be wrong. He wouldn’t just leave like this. She had to go to him. She had to be there for him. She owed him that much, considering she’d practically placed the noose around his neck when her father had confronted him before dinner.
“We’re having a family dinner, Pennelope. Sit. Down.”
All week Cole had stood by her side, and with one conversation, she’d knocked down all the progress they’d made in their relationship.
He’d walked away, because she’d given him no indication that she needed him.
But she did need him.
With a heavy sigh, she sunk into her chair and faced her family.
If there was ever a chance that this thing between her and Cole could blossom into something more, she’d just completely ruined it.
Chapter Fourteen
Cole ran on the treadmill, music blasting in his ears from his earbuds. He’d had to get out of that restaurant.
He wanted to punch something. To punch until his knuckles were bloody and bruised—a perfect match for his soul.
They had lost. After all the ridicule and torment from her brothers, he couldn’t even deliver a stupid, fucking plastic trophy. It was the reason he’d shown up on this island in the first place. And if he couldn’t do that, what made him think he could make the Boys and Girls Club a success?
It had been easy to agree to keep his fling with Penn under wraps. Whatever her reasons for keeping things a secret, he had his own. But the moment her father had accused him of being a bad influence, something had shifted. He’d realized he might want more than what they’d agreed to.
He had been hoping for a declaration, for some indication that she felt the same way. He was willing to support and defend her to the ends of the earth, but she still didn’t trust him enough to have his back. To fight for him. To fight for herself.
Any hope of a future that might have sparked inside him had been extinguished.
So the moment his phone had beeped in his pocket, he knew he sh
ouldn’t have looked. But he had looked, and the image staring back at him was his worst nightmare. Someone had taken a picture of him and Penn dancing on stage. And it had gone viral. Jack had been the bearer of bad news and sent him the link to the Toronto Gossip site where speculation about a so-called relationship between them was the top story.
And wasn’t that just the cherry on top of this disaster of a vacation.
Fuck!
He didn’t need the media nosing around into his past. He didn’t need anyone trying to make him into something he wasn’t. He was no knight in shining armor. He wasn’t going to sweep Penn off her feet and whisk her away to a happily ever after. This picture would only cause him grief at work and in his private life.
So he’d hit the gym. The only space in the world that gave him peace. Until he’d arrived here and realized that Penn had the same effect as the treadmill. She’d given him peace when he’d least expected it.
When he looked up, a movement in the mirror caught his attention.
He took his earbuds out but didn’t stop running. “I can see you in the reflection, Penn.”
“And here I thought I was being all stealth-ninja.” She walked into the gym slowly, carefully, as if walking across a bed of hot coals, with her concentration fixed on him.
She stopped at the back of the treadmill. Her frown was the heaviest he’d ever seen.
Losing the cup was just another on the list of bad things that had happened in his life. He feared that list was going to keep getting longer.
“You’re upset.” It wasn’t a question.
“So what?” His broody emotions had always been the fuel to their love-hate relationship. The two of them were like oil and water. They just didn’t mix, always in a constant battle for the upper hand.
“Talk to me, Cole,” Penn pleaded.
The pain in her voice caused him to stumble on the machine. With a curse, he yanked the safety clip and jerked forward when the treadmill stopped abruptly. Panting heavily, he hung his head, both hands gripping the bars along the sides while he tried to catch his breath.
“Are you upset we didn’t win the cup?”
He lifted his gaze, but not his head, and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her shoulders were slumped forward, tears threatening to fall.
With a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, she said, “There’s always next year.”
He laughed. He couldn’t help it. Despite being utterly shattered inside, humor seemed to be the only emotion that didn’t break him open in a chasm of hurt.
Did she think this only had to do with the cup?
He finally turned and faced her, and she backed up a few steps when their eyes met. He didn’t mean to scare her. But in the end, that’s all he’d end up doing. He was only capable of making her sad.
“There won’t be a next year. Not for us. This was just…” He picked up the towel that hung across the bar and wiped it across his forehead. “We’re coworkers. Friends. Nothing more.” He hated the sound of his voice. Bitterness mixed with sadness and regret. His killer combination.
“What got you upset? What was in that text?”
“I’m not upset.”
He wasn’t going to lay it on the line for her, but he couldn’t help the twinge of doubt, the one that told him he was no good, the one that confirmed he had no business trying to run a program that was supposed to help people.
“I’m pissed that I let you get me into the one situation I avoid like the plague.”
“What…” She looked utterly confused. “What are you talking about?”
“What happened to your Google alerts?” He jerked his chin. “Check out Toronto Gossip. Looks like the entire world knows we crossed the coworker line.”
She cursed under her breath, but they weren’t as explicit as the ones that had gone through his head when he’d received the text.
She pulled out her phone, and he watched while she swiped her finger across the screen a few times. He brushed his brow with his towel, wiping away his anger, his frustration. His pathetic need to wrap her in his arms. He needed to do something to keep his hands occupied.
Somberly, she lowered her phone to her side. Her words were low and direct. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”
“The publicity director for the Madewood Empire didn’t think about it?” He scoffed. “I don’t want this. I don’t want people digging into my life. It’s none of their business.”
“I can spin this.” She stepped forward, a determined set to her jaw. “I can make it like it never happened.”
She was a little too eager to do that. It hurt. Despite wanting those pictures to disappear, he had liked the idea of her belonging to him. He just didn’t want the entire world to know it.
“Besides, if there is a possibility that I’m going to be on the board, we can’t…”
His head shot up.
“Sterling told me just before dinner. Did you know about it? About me being considered for the board?”
He shook his head. If he had known, he wouldn’t have set foot in her hotel room. He wouldn’t have acted on his impulses.
“I don’t want anything from you, Cole. I didn’t think that sleeping with you would get me…” She grabbed her hair at the roots and clenched her fists. “In fact, I owe you. You stayed here for me, to help me win.”
He let out a low laugh. “A lot of good that did you.” He couldn’t even help her win a plastic trophy.
“It was the most selfless thing anyone has ever done for me.”
It wasn’t selfless. Not by a long shot.
A dozen emotions washed over her face. “Cole. I—”
“You don’t owe me an explanation.” He stepped off the treadmill, went to the bench, and picked up a weight. Resting his elbow on his knee, he pumped it up and down. “We both knew where this was going when we returned, board of directors or not.”
He needed someone in his corner. He had thought that person might be Penn, but she was just another woman that when push came to shove, wasn’t willing to stand up and declare her choice. Him.
“If you’re the reason my career progresses, my family will never take me seriously again. I’ll never be their equal. Nothing I ever do will be worthwhile. They’ll never see me the way I need them to if we’re…”
She moved closer, but still not close enough to touch him. And fuck, he wanted her to touch him so badly. To pull him into an embrace and whisper that everything would be all right.
But he knew better. It was never going to be all right. Not for him.
“Do you understand?” She started to step forward but hesitated and sank back. “I’m sharing here, Cole. Things I’ve never shared with anyone.”
He let out a long breath. “I’m honored that you let me into your bed but—”
“I’m not talking about spreading my legs, you jerk.” Tears flooded her eyes. The sight of her crying, knowing that he’d caused that pain, ripped him apart. But if being a jerk helped her get over him, so be it.
“Penn, you don’t want to go down this road.” Looking back, the fact that his confession had been preempted that night in the hut was a sign. One that went off with warning bells and neon lights. He was never meant to tell her about his past. His story was repeating itself. He had dropped his guard, and it had blown up in his face.
“Yes, I do.”
He looked up at her. She was holding herself back. He could tell by the way her feet were firmly planted on the floor, but her upper body was tilted forward, as if wanting to make contact. Or smack him upside the head.
“You opened up to me that night in the hut and walking on the beach,” she said. “If we hadn’t been interrupted, I’m pretty sure you would have told me more.” She swiped at her cheeks. “And I want to know. All of it.”
He placed the weight onto the floor and stood before brushing past her on his way to the door. It was a dick move. But he needed to touch her one last time before saying good-bye.
Her hand sho
t out and gripped his bicep. “Don’t you dare walk out on me now. Talk to me! Please!” She was desperate. He heard it in her voice. It quivered and cracked as she spoke.
“No.”
And then she did something, sank to a level he didn’t think possible.
“Cole. I’m not your mother.”
At that moment, his heart broke. Shattered into a million pieces. Not only because he couldn’t have Penn, the only woman on earth who understood him, the only woman he might ever love, but because she had hit the nail right on the head. Without even having to tell her about his past, she had figured it out.
Was he really that transparent?
He regarded her warily. And although his heart was breaking, he felt nothing. Not anger. Not sadness. Not relief.
Nothing.
“Is that what you think of me?” he snarled. “That I’m a sad, sorry man with mommy issues?”
Exactly what you are.
She shook her head. “I just don’t get you. Help me understand. We all have baggage.” She let out a humorless laugh. “I just spent the last six days allowing you to witness mine firsthand.”
He snorted. “You don’t know anything about baggage.”
She finally released his arm, but he didn’t run away. Instead he faced her head on.
“You have no fucking idea how lucky you were.” She took for granted every happy moment of her childhood. Her family might have flaws, but… “Normal is all I wanted my entire childhood. Normal. Stereotype. Belonging.”
Hell, his entire life.
She gave him a long, questioning look, the gears turning in her head. “Is that what this is all about? You wanted to be a part of my family?”
“Christ.” He swiped his hands over his face. “What the hell do you want from me?”
“I want the truth.” She stomped her foot on the ground like a toddler. As if her tantrum was going to make him cave. “I want to know everything.” She looked at him defiantly.
His words came out like a growl. “No, you don’t. No one wants to know this kind of thing. My own damn mother didn’t love me. Not enough to change. Not enough to keep me.” He stepped closer, towering over her. “Is that what you wanted to hear, Penn?”