The Cowboy and the Bombshell

by Dove Cavanaugh King

  “If there is nothing further, sir.”

  “No, thank you, Frederick. I’m sure Stone won’t mind driving me around tomorrow,” Harold gushed, slapping me on the back. “You enjoy your weekend. I’ll see you here Sunday afternoon.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  When the door closed behind him, the three of us were left once again standing staring at each other, not sure what to say. I was about to suggest that we all just go to bed when a noise from the top of the stairs caused us all to turn.

  There was Penelope, her hair wet from what I assumed was a shower, wearing some sort of silky shorts and tank top set that was probably her pajamas. I should have warned her that we had company, but the sight of her long, toned legs sticking out of those lavender shorts caused all the blood in my body to head south and I couldn’t make my mouth work.

  “Stone,” she started cautiously, moving down the stairs toward me. “I think we should talk about what just- Oh!” Stopping short, Penelope froze on the bottom step, her eyes darting to the two new comers in the foyer. “M-Mr. Pennington. I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t realize you…”

  “No,” Constance drawled, an evil smile on her face as she took in Penelope’s state of undress. “I bet you didn’t.”

  “Mrs. Pennington-Grover,” Penelope said flatly, her face shuttering at the sight of my half-sister’s calculating look. “What a pleasant surprise.”

  Constance snorted, indicating exactly what she thought of Penelope’s false words of greeting.

  “Miss Lund,” Harold chimed in. “So lovely to see you. The work you’ve been doing out here is very impressive. I’ve been watching those online numbers closely. The board and I are very impressed, indeed.”

  Penelope blushed hotly, pulling her hair around and draping it over her shoulder. The damp strands caused a droplet of water to run down her neck and over her collar bone. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it as it trailed across the curve of her breast and disappeared into her cleavage. That was not helping the situation in my pants one bit. Snapping my eyes back to Harold, I attempted to think of anything but Penelope and her sexy attire.

  “Thank you, Mr. Pennington,” she said graciously. “We have a wonderful team here in Las Vegas. They have all contributed to any success the board has seen.”

  Something in my chest tightened at her words. She was so selfless. Anyone other person in her position would have jumped at the opportunity to make themselves look better in front of the company CEO. But not Penelope. She was modest in her thanks and gave credit to those who helped achieve the success.

  I couldn’t wait to talk to her. We needed to clear this up between us, because I had so much to learn about her. I wanted to know everything. I wanted to climb into her head and scour every nook and cranny and find out what made her tick. How someone who had experienced the things she had could possibly still see the world as bright and shiny.

  And how I could maybe start to see it the same way.

  As Harold continued to wax poetic about Penelope’s great work, I watched Constance. The way she narrowed her eyes at Penelope told me everything I needed to know about Constance’s presence here in Las Vegas.

  She was working reconnaissance. I bet Toddrick was up to his neck in a disastrous marketing plan. His hotel theme was different, a 1920s gangster themed place. If I had to guess, I’d say he had already blown his entire budget on what would be the opening night party. The expensive champagne, the music, the girls; a real Prohibition style blow out. He’d plan it like he was planning the bachelor party of the century. It wouldn’t surprise me if he even had strippers.

  But it would be flash in the pan. There was no long-term success with a focus like that.

  That was where Penelope was ahead of the game. She was slowly drawing interest. Making it a tantalizing mystery that people couldn’t wait to solve. Little hints and teasers to keep them on the hook.

  It was genius.

  And Constance hated her for it.

  By the time we all headed to bed, I could practically see the smoke coming out of my half-sister’s ears.

  It was going to be a hell of a weekend.

  * * * *

  Saturday found me walking around the property with Harold, showing him the progress on the exterior, the rooms we had completed, the restaurants and bars, as well as the theater areas. Wandering around the site, he stopped and shook hands with everyone, from construction workers to kitchen attendants, the landscape crew and the ladies working on the cleaning staff. He treated every one of them like they were important, and I had to admit my respect for him jumped another notch.

  He also adored Penelope’s Queens of The Alamo idea and couldn’t wait to meet Dolly and her girls. Harold held a meeting with the executive staff, who were less than happy about being called in on a Saturday, but they all showed up on time and presented their status reports. Harold was more than satisfied with all the progress being made, and his praise brought morale up around the entire hotel, just as he knew it would.

  When the meeting ended, Harold announced that he wanted to take the entire executive staff for lunch at one of the restaurants run by a celebrity chef he was friends with. We would meet down stairs where he had arranged cars to take us all down the Strip. I was the first one out of the board room, heading to my office to respond to an email from Ava Carlisle before I headed out. Her whale hunt was progressing nicely, and she had secured some serious high rollers for our Soft Launch event as well as the Grand Opening that would follow a month later.

  I was stomping my way toward my office when I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye. Turning my head, I saw that the door to Penelope’s office was cracked open and there was a shadow moving on the wall. Knowing that she was still in the board room, likely getting hit on by Toby again (that guy couldn’t take a hint, but so far hadn’t crossed any lines), I stepped toward the door to see who was in there. It could have been Moira, but my gut told me it wasn’t.

  Moving slowly, I approached the open door, pressing close to the jam and trying to stay hidden. Just as I moved to push the door open, it swung back, revealing a startled Constance, staring at me open mouthed.

  “Oh, Stone,” her face paled for a moment before she regained her cold composure. “Why are you sneaking around?”

  “I could ask you the same question, Constance.” I said, narrowing my eyes at her. “What are you doing in Penelope’s office?”

  “Is this her office?” she replied, feigning innocence. “I suppose I should have recognized the smell of discount store clothing when I stepped inside.” My scowl increased. Constance had no idea what Penelope had been through; I wouldn’t let her talk shit about my woman.

  Whoa. Where the hell had that come from?

  My woman?

  There was a lot to unpack there, but now wasn’t the time. I had to figure out what Constance was doing.

  “Cut the crap, Constance. What are you up to?”

  “Why, dear brother,” she snarked back, her sarcasm letting me know exactly what she thought of us being related. “Why would you immediately assume I was up to anything? Perhaps I just got lost on my way to the bathroom.” Her smile was filled with spite as she shouldered past me, stalking for the elevators. As she went, I watched her drop something into her ridiculously expensive, yet inexplicably ugly designer bag. Turning around while she waited for the doors to open, she stared at me, no longer trying to disguise the hatred in her eyes. “And you can tell that little gold digger that it will be a cold day in hell before she gets anything that belongs to me. Including my last name.”

  As the elevator doors closed on her angry glare, I knew that Constance was going to be an even bigger problem than usual. I’d have to keep an eye on Penelope this weekend. Constance would use any opportunity to try and make her look bad in front of Harold and our team.

  And I’d done enough of that in the last month to last a life time. From now on, I was on Penelope’s side the whole way.

  Moving
back into Penelope’s open office, I glanced around to see if Constance had taken anything. Whatever she dropped in her purse, it couldn’t have been very big, but I didn’t notice anything out of place. Not that there was much in the room to begin with. It looked like Penelope hadn’t added any personal touches at all. The company laptop was open on the desk, as well as a stack of files and flier mock ups she was preparing for the printers. Everything appeared just as it should be.

  “What are you doing?” Penelope’s voice startled me out of my inspection. Looking up, I found her standing in the doorway, her arms crossed, the look on her face part suspicious and part nervous. It was past time to change both of those.

  “Hi,” I started lamely. I was standing behind her desk, looking suspicious as fuck, so I guess she was right to be wary. “I was waiting for you, actually. I’d like to talk, if you have a moment.”

  Penelope looked over her shoulder into the hallway. “I’m not sure this is the time or place for this conversation, Mr. Montgomery,” she replied quietly, her use of my last name stressing her need to keep things professional. I would respect that.

  For now.

  “Fair enough, but I’d like us to have some time to talk. Alone. Can I take you to dinner tomorrow night?” When she hesitated, I added, “Please.”

  Penelope’s lips flattened into a line, her indecision clear on her face.

  “Just dinner, Penelope. That’s all I’m asking.”

  She assessed me, her blue eyes staring hard into mine, as if she was trying to read my mind. Whatever she saw must have been enough, because she nodded. “Fine. Dinner. Tomorrow.”

  Then she turned and walked away, her blonde bun bobbing as she strode to the elevator. I followed her, closing the office door behind me, and watched as Toby moved up beside her. Whatever it was he said, she gave him a polite smile before stepping into the elevator. As the doors closed on them both, she met my eyes again. And while there was still caution, there was also heat as she looked me up and down.

  Yeah, I could work with that.

  I was still staring at the closed elevator doors when I felt a hand clap on my back. I turned to see Harold smiling up at me. My father had been a big man in his younger years, and our broad shoulders and barrel chests were an indication of our shared genes. But time had shrunk him. He was in no way small now, but the strength that came with youth had faded, leaving behind a mildness that I guessed he hadn’t possessed when he was my age. But his eyes were bright, their hazel still matching my own, and his mind was as keen as ever. And I didn’t like the way he was smirking at me now. It was too reminiscent of my own cocky expression.

  “Well, son, I can’t say I’m surprised.”

  “Surprised at what?” I asked gruffly. I told myself I was going to try with my father, Penelope’s story having resonated with me where years of my mother’s pleading had failed.

  “That girl is a spitfire, that’s for sure. She’s honest and hard working and dedicated and loyal. You won’t find a better woman anywhere. I hoped sending her out here would be the catalyst she needed to push her into the next stage of her career. If it wasn’t for this silly Toddrick business I would have promoted her already. I never suspected…” he trailed off, making me glance at him. He was staring at the elevator doors, a far away look on his face.

  “Never suspected what?” I asked again, trying to mellow my tone.

  “Just promise me something, Stone.” Harold said quietly, his face suddenly serious. “Don’t waste time. Don’t allow my mistakes to scare you into making your own.” The sadness in his eyes rendered me speechless, and I couldn’t think of a thing to say as he moved away from me to catch the next elevator to the lobby.

  I don’t know how long I stood there considering his words, but I was jolted back to reality when Silas moved up beside me.

  “You ready to head out, boss-man?”

  I regarded him, my best friend for more years than I could remember. He’d been with me through all my family drama, just as I was by his side through his.

  “Silas, I gotta say, my family just gets more and more bizarre every time I’m around them.” I shook my head in exasperation. “Harold may be losing his marbles, Constance is the devil incarnate, and Daphne is-”

  “Daphne is perfect.” Silas cut me off, glaring at me and daring me to say something negative about my youngest half-sister. When I didn’t speak, he nodded and stalked off to call the elevator for us.

  Shit. I was gonna have to do something about that. But with all the other shit piling up on my plate, I didn’t have it in me to take on my best friend right now.

  Hopefully, he would wise up all on his own.

  Daphne may be my half-sister, but she was still my sister in all the ways that mattered. Silas was gonna have to remember that.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Penelope

  I was nervous.

  There was no denying it.

  I had no idea what to expect. I mean, Stone was my boss. This dinner could very well be a prelude to my termination. I couldn’t imagine that the human resources hand book looked too kindly on coworkers sharing illicit, somewhat angry, kisses.

  Although, if Toby’s gentle flirtation was any indication, maybe human resources wasn’t as fussy as one might think.

  Giving myself one last glance in the mirror, I tried to gauge if my outfit was appropriate. Not that I’d ever been on a date in Las Vegas, but I didn’t imagine we would be going to a burger joint.

  Not that this was a date. It wasn’t. It was just dinner. A casual dinner.

  With a really, really good-looking guy who got my blood pumping and caused fluttering in my heart…and other places.

  Okay, focus.

  I left my hair down, and Daphne added some soft curls with a special tool she had with her. I’d never been good at doing my hair; I only kept it long so it was easier to put up and get it out of my way, but I had to admit, the girl was a master. It looked soft and shiny and I wanted to take her home with me so that she could do it like this every day.

  My simple black dress fell to just above my knees, flowing gently when I walked. Grabbing my small black purse, I slid into my favorite pink shoes and headed out.

  Reaching the top of the stairs, my breath caught in my chest when I spotted Stone standing in the foyer. He was in a pair of lightly worn jeans, their deep indigo color contrasting nicely with the smoke colored button down he paired it with, the sleeves rolled up revealing the tanned and corded muscles of his forearms.

  When did forearms become sexy?

  His hair was combed, the dark brown locks looking slick, and he had shaved, his face stubble free for the first time in a long time. For the moment he hadn’t seen me, replying to someone on his phone, and I took a few seconds just to look at him, drinking in the rugged masculinity that was Stone. He was so different from the men I interacted with in New York, with their fancy suits and their stock portfolios doing the talking for them. Stone’s strength came from a different place. He was big, yes, with his muscular arms and broad shoulders, but there was an inner strength that I haven’t experienced before. I didn’t know if it was the Texas in him, with the southern ideals and the farm-worked muscles, or if it was the fact that he had always felt like he has to prove himself in order to be a Pennington.

  Whatever it was, I got the feeling that Stone’s gruff exterior hid a lot of things that I wouldn’t mind exploring.

  Taking a deep breath, I started down the stairs.

  Finally catching his attention, Stone turned, his eyes widening as he saw me. I felt the heat of his gaze as he took me in, starting at the top of my head and finishing with my pink shoes, which he smirked at. As I neared the bottom, he held out his hand, helping me down the last few steps.

  “Nice shoes, Blondie,” he said quietly, and the word didn’t hold the same connotation it once did, giving me a small thrill at having a nickname from him.

  “Nice boots, Cowboy,” I replied, eying the well-loved boots he pai
red with his jeans.

  “I thought at least one of us should be comfortable tonight,” Stone said with a smile. “You look incredible, Penelope.”

  I felt the blush creeping over my cheeks as he drew my hand to his elbow. “Thank you,” I replied softly.

  “Shall we go?” At my nod, he led me to the garage. I went to climb into the big truck, the vehicle he drove every day, but he surprised me by opening the door to the convertible.

  “Oh,” I gasped, staring dumbly at the passenger seat. Stone waited for me, one eyebrow raising as I hesitated, not even sure why I was. Something about him choosing to take the Mustang instead of the pick up truck seemed significant, but I couldn’t stop to analyze it right now. I only knew that this move felt like taking our casual dinner and moving it a step closer to actual date territory.

  Putting those thoughts aside, I slid into the seat, tucking my dress beneath me. Stone closed my door then made his way around to the driver’s side and started the car. The engine gave a throaty purr that echoed loudly in the enclosed garage. Turning my head, I glanced at Stone as he drove us forward and out into the late afternoon sunshine. It was March, so the sun still went down relatively early, and here in the desert that made for some spectacular sunsets, many of which I had had the pleasure of watching from the pool deck at the Summerlin house over the last month.

  As Stone drove us out of Summerlin and towards the Strip, I thought about how things had changed in the last few days. Stone and I had spent the better part of a month at each others throats for the simple fact that we had both made assumptions about who the other person was. I hoped that after we talked at dinner tonight, we could clear the air about everything, including that kiss.

  That kiss that I could not stop thinking about.

  It had been more than awkward to have to spend all day Saturday and most of today with Mr. Pennington and Constance, knowing that the had to at least suspect what had happened before I came downstairs Friday night. If he did suspect, Mr. Pennington was gracious enough to at least pretend he had no idea. Constance, on the other hand, shot daggers at me every chance she got. Of course, she shot daggers at me the last time we were in the same room together, as well, so there might be no correlation to the situation with Stone at all.