Where You Least Expect It

by Tori Carrington

  Help. Oh, boy, did she ever need help. But she didn’t need it in the form of a dish recommendation. She needed to consult the stars. Mars was hovering overhead, which would explain the chaos swirling inside her. But it was Venus’s bright glow that made her heart pound hard.

  She offered a small smile, then looked back at the menu, feeling silly but unable to stop herself. “Do you feel like everyone’s looking at us?”

  What she meant to say was “me.” But she was glad she hadn’t.

  Aidan nodded toward the door. Penelope turned her head slightly to watch a young man come in. She was surprised to see that every person in the place turned to watch him enter and that there was a heartbeat of a pause before Eddie greeted him and he took a place at the bar.

  Was Aidan pointing out that everyone looked at everyone else?

  If she’d felt silly before, now she felt doubly so.

  As a double Capricorn, she was usually practical about such matters. But the one thing most astrologers didn’t emphasize enough was environment. She knew that the tamest Leo could turn into a deadly Scorpio if his or her environment dictated.

  As a loner, she tended to internalize things too much. Take them too personally.

  And the fact that she may have been doing that all of her life, lending a self-absorbed slant to her usually positive traits, well, surprised and bothered her.

  Aidan leaned closer. “If they are giving you a little extra attention, it’s because you’re beautiful to look at.”

  Penelope’s cheeks flamed for an entirely different reason, but she tried to shrug off the compliment. “Pisces.”

  His brows drew slightly together, then realization dawned and he grinned. “Nope.”

  She sighed heavily and lay her menu down. “Are you ever going to tell me what your sun sign is?”

  An odd expression passed over his face, then was gone. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because if I do, you’ll pigeonhole me. You’ll use those charts to try to piece me together like some assembly-required toy.”

  “Scorpio.”

  His deep chuckle made her squeeze her thighs together.

  A woman standing next to their table cleared her throat. Penelope’s smile instantly disappeared. Were they going to be asked to leave?

  “Hi, Frannie,” Aidan said easily. “Any specials for tonight?”

  She was the waitress.

  Penelope wanted to crawl under the table. If only the move would allow her to escape herself.

  The young woman wearing a blue T-shirt with the pub’s name across her chest took a pad out of her back pocket. “We have beer-batter shrimp and some lake perch we got fresh this morning.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “You’re Penelope Moon, aren’t you?” the waitress asked.

  Penelope blinked up into her face. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

  She smiled. “I’m Jeanie. I’ve heard great things about your shop. I keep meaning to come by and get a better look inside.”

  “You should,” Aidan said, when Penelope couldn’t think of a response.

  “I think I will.”

  She looked at Penelope expectantly.

  “Would you like me to order for both of us?” Aidan asked.

  Penelope could feel her body deflate as she exhaled the breath she was holding. “Yes. Yes, please.”

  Aidan handed Jeanie his menu. “I’ll have the perch, and why don’t you bring Penelope the shrimp? Oh, and bring us a plate of those fried onions Chef makes so well.”

  “Will do.”

  Jeanie left their table, slid the menus next to the cash register and disappeared into the kitchen.

  Penelope picked up her glass of cola and sipped it.

  “So tell me,” Aidan said, relaxing back into his wood chair. “What is your sign?”

  Penelope raised her brows. “What?”

  He crossed his arms and shrugged. “Well, I figure since you keep asking me about mine that you think yours reveals something about you.”

  Maybe a little too much, Penelope thought. “Capricorn.”

  “The goat, right?”

  She smiled. “Yes, the goat.”

  “Does that mean you’re stubborn?”

  She nearly sprayed the table with her cola. “You’re thinking of Taurus.”

  “No, I’m thinking of Capricorn.”

  “Do you know anything about astrology?”

  “I know about astronomy. And the stories associated with the constellations.” His smile widened. “And I also happen to have been around goats, and they can be just as stubborn as bulls, just smaller.”

  Aidan watched Penelope blush prettily. He didn’t know many women past the age of eighteen who blushed anymore. Either they had already heard and seen it all, or they didn’t know how to take a compliment. And while Penelope never openly accepted or voiced appreciation for compliments, she was obviously touched by them. And touching her on an emotional level made him want to touch her on a physical one.

  Would the skin of her stomach flush when he bared it to the night air? Would she shiver if he licked the supple expanse, then blew on it? Would she bite her bottom lip as she tried to keep from calling out, then ultimately give herself over to his attentions and her own emotions?

  Would there ever come a time when he might freely pursue the answer to those questions?

  Someone came to the door of the pub and said something to those inside. There was much screeching as stools were pushed back and a few patrons moved to the open doorway.

  “Were you always a teacher?” Penelope asked him quietly, completely unaware of the activity behind her.

  Aidan moved his napkin and silverware farther to the left, then rested his hands on the table.

  “No.”

  She watched him as if waiting for him to offer more. When he didn’t, she dropped her gaze to his hands.

  “I’m sorry. That was too forward, wasn’t it.”

  So confident in so many ways, it was surprising that she lacked confidence when it came to relationships. “Penelope, asking someone if they have herpes is forward. Asking what another person does for a living isn’t.”

  Of course, having said that, he’d cast himself in a suspicious light for not easily sharing his past.

  “I used to work in construction.”

  “Construction?”

  He nodded. “Yes, you know, doing small carpentry jobs. Adding built-in bookcases. Crown molding. Wainscoting. Things like that.”

  “Doesn’t sound small to me.”

  “No, but I wasn’t exactly building houses, either.”

  “Do you know how to install doors?”

  He chuckled quietly. “What’s to say Mavis won’t just take them off again?”

  She sighed and relaxed slightly in her chair. “I moved everything that I couldn’t bear the thought of losing to my bedroom and I lock the door every night. But I’m afraid she’s going to either pick the lock or gain access through the window and I’m going to go home to find everything gone.”

  She said this as if Mavis’s behavior were par for the course. And maybe for her, it was. Having met and spent a little time around Mavis the other night, he admitted to thinking the older woman wasn’t the unbalanced senior she portrayed. Rather, she seemed to map out each of her peculiar doings as if hoping to provoke a reaction. But what kind of reaction? And why?

  “Have you ever thought about getting your own place?” Aidan asked.

  Penelope stared at him. “You mean, leave my grandmother?” She shook her head. “No.

  Never.”

  “Why not?”

  This appeared to stump her.

  Aidan didn’t think it was an unusual question. Eventually everyone came to a point when they wanted to strike out on their own. Claim their own space. But it was apparent the thought had never even occurred to Penelope.

  “Why not indeed…” she said quietly, a curious light in her eyes.

  “Aidan and Miss Moon?” Ed
die called from the door. “You two, um, might want to come have a look at this.”

  Penelope’s soft brows drew together. Aidan considered telling the bar owner they were otherwise occupied.

  “Max,” Penelope whispered.

  Aidan pushed back from his chair and followed as she hurried for the door.

  At first it wasn’t apparent what everyone was looking at. What was clear was that nearly everyone within shouting distance was standing outside, staring at something going on in Lucas Circle. Aidan squinted, trying to get a better look, but there were too many people blocking his view.

  He watched Penelope crouch down and pet Maximus where he was straining against his leash near the light pole, barking at the area of interest.

  “Come on in! The water’s fine!” a woman called.

  Penelope jumped up and an expression of horror crossed her face. He lightly grasped her hand as she pushed her way through the throng of people, then came to a jarring stop.

  Aidan moved to her side, staring at what everyone else saw. Namely, her grandmother, in nothing but her underwear, splashing in the fountain in the middle of Lucas Circle. And she was reaching for the back of her bra as if to undo it….

  Chapter Eight

  Penelope couldn’t believe this was happening…again. As she signed the form accepting responsibility for her grandmother and paying a fine that made an ugly dent in her savings, she wished not only that she didn’t live with Mavis, but also that she lived far, far away. Someplace, anyplace, that wasn’t here.

  Sheriff Parker scratched the top of his handsome head and grinned sheepishly. “You’ve got to make it clear to your grandmother that she can’t be doing stuff like that out in public, Penelope.”

  Like she had control over what her grandmother did or didn’t do. She only wished she could somehow intuit the old woman’s intentions so she could at least make sure she wasn’t anywhere around when her grandmother put on a show.

  Cole motioned toward Desk Sergeant George Johnson, who went to the back of the office, apparently to bring Mavis out.

  She eyed Aidan where he stood outside, Max’s leash in his hand, staring at Lucas Circle as if he’d never quite look at it the same way again.

  “You know,” the sheriff was saying, “you may want to arrange another visit with a doctor for her.”

  They both knew he wasn’t talking about a medical doctor. And they both also knew that it wouldn’t do a lick of good. After last year’s debacle with the medical marijuana, the court had ordered psychological counseling. And after three appointments, the young female psychologist had called Penelope at the shop to tell her she couldn’t see Mavis anymore. She not only didn’t think she was helping her, but also was afraid Mavis might ultimately affect the counselor’s own grip on sanity.

  Penelope had understood.

  By the time that had all transpired, summer had passed and her grandmother had gone back to normal.

  Well, as normal as her grandmother got, anyway.

  “I’ll see what I can do, Sheriff,” she said, smiling nervously.

  She heard Mavis before she saw her. “What’s the matter with all of you? Never seen a human body before? The human form is beautiful. Nothing at all to be ashamed of.”

  They reached the front room and Mavis looked at Penelope, then the sheriff. “You should know better than to question the request of the king.”

  “The king?” Sheriff Cole repeated, clearing his throat.

  “The king of all rock and roll. The man in the big pink Cadillac in the sky.”

  Elvis? Was Mavis saying she was taking orders from Elvis? No, it couldn’t be.

  Penelope quickly stepped forward, putting her arm over her grandmother’s robe-covered shoulders. “Thank you, Sheriff. I’ll make sure Dottie gets her robe back, washed, first thing tomorrow.”

  “No problem, Penelope. Just you, um, remember what we talked about.”

  “I will.” She would do one better than that. When they got back to the house, rather than locking her bedroom door, she was going to lock Mavis in her own room. Board up the windows. Anything to keep her from flashing the good folks of Old Orchard again.

  They stepped outside, and Aidan turned to face them.

  “Oh, it’s you. Good,” Mavis said, taking his arm and heading in the opposite direction of home. “Couldn’t stay away from me, now, could you?”

  Penelope sighed in exasperation, grasped her grandmother’s arm and coaxed her in the right direction. “Home is this way.”

  Mavis did another about-face, taking Aidan with her. He met Penelope’s gaze over her grandmother’s gray head.

  “The truck’s over this way.”

  “The truck? You drove the truck into town?”

  She hadn’t even been aware the old Ford still ran. It had been shut up in the garage for the past five years, neither her grandmother nor her driving it. Penelope didn’t have the need. The shop was within walking distance, no matter the weather. And Mavis…well, Mavis usually stuck close to the house.

  She only wished that applied all the time.

  “I think we should walk,” Penelope said.

  “I agree,” Aidan said.

  “What about the truck?”

  Penelope looked at Aidan. He cleared his throat. “I’ll bring it by the house tomorrow morning.”

  “Tomorrow morning’s too late. I have things I need to do tonight.”

  “Tonight? What do you have to do tonight?” Penelope asked. “No. Scratch that. You’re not doing anything tonight.”

  “Are you disobeying the king, as well?”

  The king? Aidan mouthed over Mavis’s head.

  She rolled her eyes and mouthed, Don’t ask.

  “I’ll bring it by tonight,” Aidan promised.

  Mavis’s step seemed to grow lighter. “Good.”

  “But that doesn’t mean you’re going anywhere in it,” Penelope pointed out.

  “We’ll see…”

  Her grandmother was channeling Elvis, her house had no doors, and she was now an even bigger laughingstock in town.

  A couple of hours later, Penelope sat on her bed staring at the myriad objects crammed into her bedroom. It was difficult to navigate through the maze of sideboard, armchairs, lamps and boxes. Last night she’d nearly maimed herself when she’d gone on a bathroom run. Forget that having to unlock and then re-lock her bedroom door after herself—a roll of toilet paper in hand in case Mavis decided she had something against the stuff—had completely woken her so that it had been nearly impossible to get back to sleep afterward.

  Of course, she wasn’t about to admit that Aidan’s gentle eyes and charming grin had anything to do with her insomnia….

  She glanced at her watch. Just after eleven p.m. She pushed off the bed, took the key from the leather tie around her neck and let herself out of her bedroom, locking up after herself. The house was quiet. Too quiet.

  She padded down the hall, now devoid of the throw rugs she had rolled up and stowed in her room until her grandmother’s latest spell passed.

  “Gram?” she called out, her plain cotton nightgown swirling around her legs. She tapped on Mavis’s door and received no answer. “Gram?” she said quietly, turning the knob and pushing the barrier slightly inward. The new moon shone brightly through the curtainless window, clearly illuminating the empty bed, stripped of linens.

  Oh, God.

  Last night, she hadn’t gone to her room until Mavis promised that she would stay put until morning. She was also glad that she’d asked Aidan not to bring the truck back until late. Late enough to circumvent any strange commands her grandmother thought she was hearing.

  She hurried through the house, checking both open doorways. No sign of Mavis.

  She rested her fingers against her neck and swallowed hard. She needed a phone.

  She went in search of an extension that she could try to hook up to the frayed wires sticking out from the wall. Just then, a vehicle’s headlights drifted across the wall,
and she heard the unmistakable roar of the old 1962 Ford in the driveway.

  Aidan.

  She hurried to the front doorway and stood there, her arms wrapped around her upper body, and tried to ignore the anticipatory hammering of her heart.

  Aidan stared at the apparition on the front porch of the old house, half afraid he was seeing things. But time and several blinks of his eyes told him he wasn’t. Penelope stood wearing a white nightgown that was nearly transparent under the bright beams of the truck, her lush body clearly outlined under the thin cotton. Her black hair and eyes seemed to glisten; her legs were long and her ankles impossibly slender, her feet free of any toenail polish and downright sexy.

  He switched off the engine, leaving the key in the ignition. He’d never thought of someone’s feet as being sexy before. And the idea was more than a little disconcerting.

  He climbed from the truck, snatching the bag that had been next to him on the bench seat. It seemed to take forever to open the gate and cross over the sidewalk to the porch; all the while, Penelope stayed right where she was, watching him.

  He stopped at the foot of the stairs, words eluding him.

  “It seems Mavis didn’t need the truck, after all,” Penelope said, her words soft on the night air.

  Aidan squinted at her. “She’s gone?”

  Penelope sighed and nodded. “Who are we to question the king’s bidding?”

  Aidan still wasn’t entirely sure who “the king” was or why he was telling Penelope’s grandmother to do odd stuff, and he wasn’t all that sure he wanted to find out, either.

  He held out the plain white paper sack. “I brought the food we weren’t able to eat earlier.”

  Her eyes grew so round, he was afraid he’d done something wrong.

  “You’ve eaten already,” he said simply.

  “No. I’m just surprised not only that I haven’t eaten, but that I completely forgot about…well, dinner.”

  “Well, I guess I’m just in time, then.”

  “For what?”

  “To save you from starving to death.”

  They stood there for a long time, nothing but the sound of crickets and the light of the sliver of moon and lightning bugs. Max lay on the far side of the porch, having barely lifted his head when Aidan pulled into the drive. His eyelids were already drooping back down.