“Of course,” he said, and with nothing further, he turned and left. Fine. He could be mad at me; I could take it.
Picking up my phone, I arranged for the meals to be delivered, then popped up my computer to see what work I could accomplish while Penelope did what she needed to do. I had several messages from Ava as well and assured her that things were being handled. I also checked in with the other properties and managers I dealt with in my regular duties as regional manager. Everything was running smoothly, as I expected. Things tended to go well when you had a reliable team in place, and I was proud of my people.
It didn’t take long for Silas to return with his tablet. He set it down on my desk, the video all queued up.
“Are you sure about the date and time?” he asked, and the lack of irritation in his voice told me that he found something else to focus on, and it likely wasn’t good.
“According to Penelope’s out box, the email in question was sent at 12:47 p.m. today.”
“Well, I went though the entire day. The only person other than you and her to enter that office, was Toby Reynolds, and he was never alone. That was also almost four hours after the time the email was sent.” Pressing play on the computer, he showed me a sped-up video of the hallway outside Penelope’s door. I watched her go in and out several times, as well as other staff members moving up and down the hall, but at no time did anyone but Penelope go inside her office. I watched as Toby walked up, and then watched myself move into the office shortly after him. Everything matched up with Penelope’s story, but none of it explained how or why that email got sent.
“Is it possible she sent an email and accidentally mistyped the information?” Silas asked when the footage had finished.
“I suppose,” I said, although it would be very unlike her. Sure, she tended to be physically clumsy, but even that was only when she was nervous. Her work was her element, and she took great pride in doing it well. I couldn’t see her making that kid of error. “Anything is possible.”
Silas picked up his tablet and headed for the door. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Si,” I called, making him stop, but he didn’t turn and look at me. “Are we…alright?” I asked awkwardly. I thought I could let this go, but apparently, I was wrong.
Silas took a deep breath, his chest expanding beneath his shirt, and I realized that if he wanted to, my very good friend could kick my ass. Badly.
After another breath, he turned and looked at me. “We will be, Stone.” His eyes met mine, and I could see a whole host of emotions there: hurt and anger, sure. But there was also love. The love that said that we were best friends for life, and he would do anything to protect that. Even if it hurt him.
Shit. Maybe I was too harsh on him. He was my best friend, I trusted him with my life and all my secrets. Perhaps I could trust him with my little sister, as well.
I wanted to open my mouth and tell him that, but he closed his expression and turned, storming out of my office. I’d find a way to talk to him again; I couldn’t let my stubborn pride hurt my best friend.
I got back to work and it wasn’t long before security informed me that our meals had arrived. I met the delivery guy at the elevator, giving him a hefty tip, then took the food back to Penelope’s office.
I paused at the door to watch her. She had her head down, typing furiously at the key board, her frown creating an adorable wrinkle between her eyebrows. Penelope gnawed on her lower lip, something I’d seen her do numerous times when she was concentrating, and she looked adorable as hell. Moving further inside, I caught her attention and she looked up, smiling slightly at the sight of me.
“Dinner is served,” I said with a smile and a mock bow. “How are you making out?”
Penelope leaned back in her chair with a groan, rolling her neck from side to side. “It’s fine. Most people are pissed until they learn about the thousand dollars. Then they’re happy as clams. None of them have canceled, which is good, because Ava would probably murder me if they did.”
“You know,” I replied thoughtfully, popping the lids of the take out containers open and passing out the disposable forks. “I think she actually would murder you. She seems like the type to who would know how to hide a body.”
Penelope laughed out loud at that, sliding her lap top to the side to make room for her lasagna. I pulled the chair in front of her desk closer and open my own dinner, a simple spaghetti Bolognese.
“Thank you for dinner, Mr. Montgomery,” Penelope teases playfully, and I shoot her a smirk. “Actually,” she started cautiously, loading pasta on her fork. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, why you go by Montgomery and not Pennington.”
I grimaced, not liking the direction the conversation had taken. But Penelope had shared so much of herself with me, I thought that maybe it was time I returned the favor.
“There are a couple of reasons, actually.” I started, deciding to go with the easiest first. “When I started working for the company, I didn’t want anyone to think that I was there for any reason other than my ability to do the job. If people know who my father was, they would think less of me and my own merits.”
“Huh,” Penelope said softly. “I’m ashamed to admit that’s exactly what I thought when I learned who you were. After seeing how Constance and Toddrick worm their way around the office, I figured you were just another product of the Pennington nepotism game.” She smiled warmly at me. “I’m glad I was wrong.” Our eyes locked for a few seconds, hinting at things neither of us was ready to speak out loud. Penelope broke first, her gaze darting back to her meal, a blush rising in her cheeks. I let it go, continuing to answer her question.
“The second reason is much less noble and unfortunately way more petty,” I muttered. I didn’t want to tell her this part, knowing she missed her father as much as she did. It seemed ridiculous now, looking back on all the years I wasted by turning down all of Harold’s attempts to be a parent to me, when Penelope would probably give anything just to speak to her father again. “Harold didn’t know about me until I was almost four years old. My mother never tried to keep me from him, but all her attempts to contact him were side tracked by his staff, who were well paid to keep scandals like an illegitimate son out of the headlines.” I didn’t look at Penelope as I spoke, not wanting to see the pity in her eyes as I tell her about my sad childhood with out a dad. “He left my mom without a backwards glance, and over the years, I watched her heart continue to get broken by him. She gave me his name when I was born, but using it felt like an insult to her. To the fact that she raised me on her own, and I wanted to honor her for it. So whenever possible, I went by Montgomery instead of Pennington.”
Finishing my story, I exhaled a heavy breath, then raised my eyes to gauge Penelope’s reaction. I was pleasantly surprised when I didn’t see pity but something like admiration on her face.
“Stone,” she murmured, her hand reaching across the desk to clasp mine. “Your mom must be very proud of you.” I didn’t say anything, just watched as she moved her thumb across the back of my hand, her skin so pale compared to mine. “You care about her a lot. She sounds like she is a great mom.”
“The best,” I said quietly, a tightness forming in my chest. We ate in not-quite awkward silence, each lost in our own thoughts.
Penelope said that she made assumptions about me, and I know that I certainly made several about her. The thing was, I couldn’t have been more wrong. She was nothing like Constance and her mother, Deirdre, the women who constantly made me feel like garbage for being Harold’s illegitimate son. Penelope was warm, and caring, and kind. She worked hard for everything she had, and held no bitterness over the things she didn’t have.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized I had never met someone like her. Someone who had endured so much pain in life, and yet, offered nothing but happiness back. I certainly hadn’t dealt with my own losses as well as Penelope had, and the thought shamed me now.
Harold didn’t
intend for things to go the way they did for my mother. Hell, the minute he learned what had happened, he tried to be in my life, and my stubborn ass rejected him at every turn. My mother never held a grudge against him, knowing that somethings in life are just out of our control.
It was probably time I put my petty bullshit aside and follow Penelope’s example. I needed to finally own up to my own behavior and get to know my father.
Before it was too late.
While I was coming to these life altering conclusions, Penelope and I finished our meals. I gathered the empty containers while she shut down her computer.
“Ready to head out?” I asked, watching as she turned off the office light and closed the door.
“All set.”
We headed down and climbed in the truck, the silence only broken by the alternative rock station we had settled on as acceptable to both of us. I glanced out the corner of my eye, watching as Penelope rolled her head on her shoulders again.
“You should try the hot tub,” I said, trying not to picture her wet and warm in a bathing suit…or out of it.
“Hmmm,” she moaned, and the sound shot straight to my dick. “That sounds lovely, actually.”
“Tell you what,” I said, trying not to shift as my pants got tighter. “When we get to the house, I’ll grab the wine, you meet me out back.”
She looked my way, her eyes wide. “Together?” she murmured quietly.
“You bet your ass, together.”
She stared at me open mouthed for a minute longer, then nodded slightly. “Okay.”
Half an hour later I stood on the pool deck, two glasses of wine in hand, waiting for Penelope to come down and join me. The house was quiet, which was strange given that Daphne and Silas had been around almost constantly since I’d arrived in Las Vegas. But Daphne had moved back into her dorm room, and Silas was spending less and less time at the house, a fact that reminded me I needed to make things right with them both sooner rather than later.
My thoughts were cut off abruptly when the door to the house opened quietly and Penelope stepped on to the darkened patio, her bare feet silent on the tiles. She was wearing a robe, one of the plain white ones Harold kept in each bedroom, like the hotel kingpin he was, and her hair had gone from its tidy low bun to a messy knot on the top of her head. Her skin shone in the moonlight, looking like flawless porcelain, and I was struck again by just how beautiful she truly was.
She padded over to me, her hands gripping the knotted belt of the robe tightly, and smiled shyly when I passed her the glass of wine.
“I figured a nice cold white would be our best bet,” I told her, gesturing to the in-ground hot tub at the end of the deck. Setting my glass on the stone, I removed my shirt, standing in just the swim trunks I put on when we got back to the house. The jets were already going, but I still heard the small gasp Penelope made when I was undressing. Smirking to myself, I kept my face away from her as I entered the tub, sitting on the side by my drink and stretching my arms across the edge. I managed to get my face back to neutral by the time Penelope reached the stairs, still in the robe, hesitating at the entrance.
I watched her, one hand gripping the bulb of the wine glass, the other still clenching the knot of the bathrobe, as her eyes darted from me to the bubbling water and back again. After a few moments, I figured she needed a bit of a push. “You comin’ in or not, Blondie?” I said, watching as she jolted out of wherever her thoughts had taken her. Making a decision, she tipped the glass up, gulping down a hefty mouthful, before setting it beside mine on the slate tiles. Standing straight again, she quickly undid the robe, placing it on a nearby lounge chair, and moved as fast as she could to the stairs into the hot tub.
As she gingerly entered the water, blowing out a few breaths at the temperature, I couldn’t help but take a few breaths of my own. Penelope had the body of a goddess.
I had always had some idea, and after having her in my arms last night at the fountains, I was fairly certain she was gonna be a knock out. But actually seeing her standing in front of me in that tiny pink bikini, so delicately tied at the hips in small bows that just made me want to tug at them, I could hardly hear anything but the pounding of my heart in my ears. I shifted on the bench as my cock responded to the sight as well. Letting my eyes trail over her, from her slender calves disappearing into the illuminated water, up over her curvy hips with their pretty pink bows, and then along the dip of her waist, the narrow curve only accentuating the lusciousness of the rest of her. She finally settled on the bench seat across from me, her cheeks red, whether from the hot water, the wine, or the situation, I didn’t know, and met my eyes through her lashes. The look she delivered carried so much inside it; heat, desire, and a touch of fear. Not of me, I was almost positive, but of the place we found ourselves. Of the fact that we were here, after a month of conflict, me as her boss, her my employee, on the cusp of whatever this was. There were so many things that could go wrong; so many ways that this could blow up in both our faces.
And I didn’t care about a single one of them.
“You look incredible, Penelope.” I moved to the next bench over, sitting perpendicular to her so that our knees touched under the water.
“Thank you, Stone.”
I watched her, the light from the under-water bulb casting inverted shadows on her face as the steam rose around us. Penelope leaned back against the tub wall with a soft sigh, and cast her eyes up to the sky.
“I can’t get over how many stars there are here,” she said softly. “You hardly ever see stars in New York, obviously. This is…” she trailed off, raising one hand to gesture at the night sky.
“Beautiful,”I finished for her, not taking my eyes off of her face.
Penelope turned to me, catching me looking, and her blush deepened. “We should probably talk, Stone.”
“I disagree,” I murmured, reaching out so my fingertips trailed along the back of her neck. I watched, fascinated, as goosebumps rose in the wake of my fingers. “I think we communicate much better when we don’t talk at all.” My fingers increased their pressure, feeling the tense muscles she was stretching earlier. I worked my thumb and fingers in firm circles up and down the column of her neck, and Penelope’s head dropped forward, a soft moan escaping when I reached the junction of her neck and shoulder.
“That may be true,” she whispered, eyes closed as I stared at her, watching as her breaths started coming faster. “But it’s still the responsible thing to do. Talk, I mean.”
I could barely hear her words over the sound of the jets, so I moved closer, shifting myself on to her bench. Penelope twisted her body away from me, but only to grant me better access to her shoulders. I raised both hands, massaging her warm skin gently, even though every possessive instinct in me wanted to press her to me, wrap my arms around her, protect her and claim her. But I forced myself to go slow, knowing that she had so much more riding on this situation than I did.
“I think,” I whispered, my mouth against the shell of her ear. She shivered when my breath caressed her hot, damp flesh. “That you have spent way, way too much time being responsible. I think,” I repeated, trailing my lips from her ear, down her neck, over her shoulder and back again. “That you should let me worry about things for a while.”
I closed my mouth on her skin, just behind her ear, and she melted against me, resting against my chest. I moved my hands down her arms as she turned her head to look at me over her shoulder. I could see the desire in her eyes, heaver and more potent than before, but the slight frown between her eyebrows showed she was still hesitant.
Leaning in, I pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of her mouth. “It’s okay, Penelope,” I said softly, meaning so much more than I was capable of saying at the moment. “I’ve got you.”
She was still for a moment, processing my words and their meaning. Then, coming to a decision, her face softened, and she raised one hand, reaching behind us to place it on the back of my neck. When she spoke, it was bare
ly a whisper. “Okay.”
Like a switch had been flipped, our mouths crashed together, the hot, wet kiss full of more passion than any I had ever experienced. My hands roamed over Penelope, trying to touch every part of her I could reach. My palm was flat against her toned stomach, my thigh moved of his own accord to rub against hers in the water, like my body was desperate for any bit of friction I could get.
For her part, Penelope moved like a wave, up and down as our kiss progressed, her fingers tight in my hair. Suddenly, she stood, breaking all contact as the water rushed off of her body like a waterfall. I froze, not sure if I had overstepped at some point, but before I could say anything, Penelope surprised me by settling herself on my lap, her legs spread wide over mine. She wound her hands around my neck and pressed back in, kissing me with just as much intensity as before.
I groaned into her mouth when I felt her breasts press against my chest, all her beautiful soft against my muscular hard. We were the perfect compliment to each other, the living embodiment of ‘opposites attract’ and I couldn’t get enough of her.
Wrapping my own arms around her, one hand sinking into her hair below her messy bun, the other landing firmly on her ass, squeezing the plump cheek repeatedly, I groaned into the kiss, moving my tongue against hers, tasting the crispness of the wine we had been drinking. Penelope pressed herself to me, moving against me, seeking pressure where she needed it. She moaned again as her core rubbed against my cock, hard as steel in my swim shorts. I dug my fingers into her ass even harder, pressing against her everywhere I could, wanting to consume her fully.
We kissed like that for ages, writhing together, sharing space and breath, until I pulled back, grasping her by both hips to still her movement. Penelope blinked her eyes open, looking dazed and flush and absolutely gorgeous. Keeping hold of her hips, I stood, causing a shocked gasp to escape her, as I spun us both and placed her ass on the tiled edge of the hot tub. Stepping between her knees, I ran my hands up and down her thighs, loving the way her skin felt, so smooth and silky beneath my own work-roughened hands. I leaned in for a kiss, this time just a quick press of our lips before I moved down, kissing against her neck, then to her collar bone, and across the incredible curve of her breasts, open mouthed kisses, my tongue darting out to sample her skin where ever I could reach.
The Cowboy and the Bombshell Page 16