Never: A MM, Opposites Attract, Fairy Tale Retelling Romance (The Pennymaker Tales Book 4)
Page 21
Wen hugged Peter close and kissed his shining hair. “I’m sorry the club opening had to be on the same night as our wedding.”
Peter sighed and kissed Wen back. “Just worked out that way, I guess. But we’ve got plenty of time.”
“If you’re too tired to sing, I know Mr. P. will let you off the hook.”
John shook his head. “Oh no, Peter. Mr. P. says you need to christen the new club with your magic, so you have to sing at least one song.”
Peter laughed. “Today I have magic to spare.”
The limo pulled up in front of the towering hotel where the reception would be held. Wen whispered, “I’m mostly looking forward to a few minutes in our hotel room with you.”
Murphy opened the door, and Mrs. Wellington, who must have used some of Peter’s magic to get there before them, leaned in and scooped up John and Michaela. “These two are mine. Here’s your key. Go relax for a few minutes while the guests arrive.”
Wen smiled. “Thank you, Mrs. Wellington.”
“It’s Mary, dear. And don’t you forget it.” She laughed and pulled the kids after her. She turned back to Wen. “Where’s Carstairs? He is, after all, the author of the feast, so to speak.”
“He’s opening a club tonight, so I think he’s enmeshed in final preparations.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to miss him.”
Peter laughed. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of him.”
Wen led Peter to the elevator and then to a set of double doors that opened on a palatial bridal suite complete with a panoramic view of New York City, a huge sectional sofa, and, back in an alcove, an enormous bed all dressed in white sheets and comforters.
Peter took one look, ran for the bed, and hurled himself on it. “Big mistake letting us near this bed. Huge. They may never get us back.”
Wen laughed and walked slowly to Peter and sat on the edge of the bed. “While I agree that fucking you into the mattress would be the finest possible activity, I just realized something.”
Peter flipped onto his stomach with no regard for his shiny black tux. “What?”
“We get to make love anytime we want for the rest of our lives. We’ve got a license.”
“If we can keep John from peeking under the door.” He laughed, and it had a free sound.
“Hey, we’ve always got our basement.” He gave Peter’s cheek a soft touch. “So, Mr. Panachek Darling Wellington, how are you feeling about this whole thing?”
“Thing?”
“Suddenly finding yourself with a husband who works for your father, and kids, and the likelihood of one whole helluva lot of time spent with your family?”
Peter propped his head on his folded hands. “I won’t lie. There are moments when I still want to run.”
Wen swallowed. He couldn’t begrudge him that. They’d ripped his whole life apart.
Peter turned up his green cat eyes to Wen. “But when I think of running, I always imagine you and the kids going with me.”
Wen lay on his side facing Peter. “Funny how it happened. One day we were, like, opposites, and the next I knew I’d never want to be with anyone else.”
“That’s because we’re the opposite sides of the same coin.”
“Yeah. A lucky penny.” Wen leaned forward, and their lips met. Soft, warm, tasting of tangerine and forever. The room phone rang, and they both jumped. “Duty calls.”
Wen hopped off the bed and grabbed the phone. “Hi.”
Mrs. Wellington sounded excited. “Most of the guests are here, dear. Come on down.”
“We’ll be right there, Mary.”
Peter climbed slowly off the bed and gave Wen a hug. “All we have to do is survive this shindig, as John called it, get through the opening of Neverland, and we can go home and be married.”
“Yes, my love.” Wen smoothed Peter’s hair. “But if it’s ever too much and you want to run, know that we’ll be right beside you.”
How Mrs. Wellington had managed to pull off an event this grand in only two weeks was beyond human comprehension. Huge floral stands graced what must have been close to a hundred tables, now packed with people. When Peter and Wen walked in, everyone clapped, and they were led to the head table, where they sat between John and Michaela.
Michaela said, “This is so pretty.”
Wen smiled at her serious face. “Kind of overwhelming, huh?”
“Yes.” She grinned. “But in a good way.”
“I’m glad. I know how hard these years have been on you. Maybe now you’ll have more time to just be a teenager.”
She put a hand on his arm. “You take care of us and I pay it forward. It’s not a hardship when you love people.”
He wrapped her in his arms. “How did I ever get so lucky?”
She laughed. “Hey, you married an elf.”
People lined up at the head table to wish them well. Fortunately, a couple of waiters brought them food or they’d never have seen any, even though slipping in mouthfuls between conversations was hard. They danced the first dance, cut the huge cake, and Peter even managed to scrape together a bunch of flowers to toss as a bouquet.
As Wen and Peter walked off the dance floor, Mr. Wellington took Wen’s arm. “Wen, Peter, come meet some friends. Jake Houston and Angelica Murt, this is my son and his new husband.” He sounded positively proud.
Wen shook hands with the tall man and silver-haired woman and scoured his memory. “Yes, Mr. Houston, I’ve enjoyed the ads Wellington has done for you. Horses and dogs never lose. And I believe you’re a new client, Mrs. Murt. My former agency competed but didn’t have a chance.”
Wellington gave him a broad smile, and Peter squeezed his hand.
Mrs. Murt said, “Call me Angelica, and I’m looking forward to having you on my account. I have to tell you, I’ve never seen anything as creative as the Comfort peanut butter ad.”
Wen smiled. “Let’s see if we can’t do something even better for Murt Electronics.”
“I like the way you think.”
As they walked away, Peter said, “If that was a test, you passed it with all banners waving.”
When they got back to the table, John murmured, “We’ve got to go soon.”
Peter glanced at his watch. “Not that I mind leaving, but isn’t it kind of early? The club won’t actually open until eight, will it? It’s not even six yet.”
Michaela and John glanced at each other. She said, “I think they want you to rehearse a big entrance.”
“Oh, okay.”
Wen smiled. “No rest for the weary, love. They need the power of Peter Panachek to kick off the club.”
Peter leaned over to his dad, who had come back to the table. “We need to go. We’re expected at Mr. Pennymaker’s club opening.”
“They’re making you work on your wedding day? I wouldn’t expect Carstairs to be such a slave driver.” He raised a brow.
“It won’t be much. Just an appearance, I imagine. He had the opening planned before we set the wedding.”
“Yes, I guess this has been rather rushed.” He frowned, then looked up at Peter and Wen. “I know I’ve been pretty high-handed.” He gave a half grin. “I guess I can’t be too sorry for that since I got everything I wanted.” He gazed at Peter. “But if I ever gave you the idea that I don’t care what you want, I honestly apologize. I know I’m not an easy man. Your mother tells me that all the time. But I’ll try. I promise. I couldn’t have pictured a better outcome if I’d written the copy myself.” He laughed.
Peter said, “I can’t pretend I loved running from my own family, but I learned a lot, and I got more than I ever could have imagined I wanted.” He leaned against Wen.
Wellington nodded. “I look forward to understanding you better. Wen will translate.” He stood and tapped his glass with a knife, “Friends, Peter and Wen will be leaving shortly, so please gather for the send-off.”
Send-off it was. Birdseed flew and streamers fell from the top of the portico as Wen, Peter, and the kids
ran for the limo. They waved, slammed the door, and laughed.
Peter raised an arm. “On to the next adventure.”
Wen asked, “Maybe I should take Michaela and John to the apartment to rest for a while, and then we’ll come back after you’ve rehearsed.”
“No!” John practically jumped out of his seat. “Uh, I mean, I want to see everything. The whole rehearsal. How many times will I get to hang out in a nightclub?”
Peter grabbed him and noogied his head. “Okay, you can come. But when we carry you out of there sound asleep, don’t blame your brother.”
“I won’t. Promise.”
Wen said, “Sit back and rest while we drive. It’ll take a few minutes in this traffic to get to Brooklyn.”
John half complied. He sat, but he stared out the window and bounced his leg.
Peter leaned against Wen. “We’ll be going past my new school.”
“Pratt’s such a good art school. I read all about it.” Michaela smoothed her green dress. “Amazing that Mr. Pennymaker got you in on such short notice.”
“Yeah. He says he needs my magic. He’s the miracle worker.”
Wen closed his eyes and hugged Peter close. Inhaling tangerine, he drifted for a few minutes.
Through the intercom, Murphy said, “We’re here.”
John bounced up like he’d been released from a jack-in-the-box. Wen stared out the window. “Wow. Look.”
Peter glanced over his shoulder, and Michaela crowded the window.
Murphy opened the door and they all fell out. The club had clearly been renovated. A new portico covered the entrance and the whole building sparkled with paint, but where the Neverland sign normally showed above the entrance, a huge cloth covered the entire expanse.
Peter said, “He must have gotten new neon. The old one was on its last legs.”
Murphy opened the door to the club for them, and they all gave him a bow. He laughed and followed them in.
The small lobby shone with new silver paint, brilliant lighting fixtures made of some kind of blown colored glass that resembled bouquets of flowers, and huge frames holding drawings of flowers—but the pictures had a temporary look.
John turned in a circle. “Wow. Just wow. This is amazing.”
The doors into the club had been changed to a hammered metal. Michaela said, “I feel like I’m stepping into a fairy tale.”
Wen smiled. “I’m so glad you guys got to see it.”
“Okay.” Peter pressed forward. “Let’s go to work.”
He pushed open one door while Murphy opened the other, and he stopped so fast Wen ran into his back.
“Surprise!” about a hundred voices yelled as one.
“What the….”
John jumped up and down. “Surprise! Surprise!”
Wen just stared with his mouth actually open. The Lost Boys and Tink pressed forward and started hugging Peter. Laila ran up to Wen. All the agency employees he liked, Eddie the taco guy and his family, bartenders and waiters, and guests of Neverland he recognized all applauded and yelled—under the orchestration of Mr. Pennymaker.
After everyone had congratulated Wen and Peter and had champagne in their hands, Mr. P. stepped forward. “Friends, Wen and Peter have not only united in love, they’ve united two important ideas. The power of youth, freedom, and creativity and the equal power to shape and express that creativity in the world. I felt it was only fair that they have two wedding receptions to align with those ideas.” He raised his glass. “To Wen and Peter.”
Everyone drank.
“So before we plunge into serious partying, tell us what you’ve learned, my dears.”
Wen grinned. “I guess that I learned that responsibility and creativity aren’t opposites.”
Peter smiled, dimples carving in his elven face. “And I’ve learned as Picasso said, it takes one a long time to become young!”
Music began to play, everyone danced, drank champagne, and laughed until their sides hurt. Mr. P. told Peter he’d saved the huge frames for his paintings, and Peter was thrilled.
As the big hand approached eight, Mr. Pennymaker grabbed the mic. “It seems to me that this club has played an important role in Wen and Peter’s love story. It’s time for the unveiling. Everyone outside.”
The hundred or so guests trooped out the doors onto the sidewalk and even blocked the street. Another hundred or more people stood in line to get in. Mr. P. had arranged for some drums and trumpets, and spotlights shone on the huge cloth. Wen and Peter were placed in the middle, looking up at the impending reveal.
The moon was just up and the sky almost dark. Peter lay his head on Wen’s shoulder.
Wen whispered. “Getting tired?”
“Maybe a little. But it sure has been fun.”
Mr. P. said into the mic, “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us tonight for the opening of a brand new experience of life, art, dance, and creativity, plus a whole lot of fun!” He raised a hand and the trumpets played. “I give you—Everland!”
The banner dropped, the lights flashed on, and the word gleamed across the street, the city, and the world.
Peter grabbed Wen. “Yes. For—ever!” Their lips met and held, just before Samu grabbed Peter and raised him above his head in flight. Holding Wen’s hand beside him, he flew into Everland.
Meet Tara Lain
Tara Lain believes in happy ever afters - and magic. Same thing. In fact, she says, she doesn't believe, she knows. Tara shares this passion in her stories that star her unique, charismatic heroes and adventurous heroines. Quarterbacks and cops, werewolves and witches, blue collar or billionaires, Tara's characters, readers say, love deeply, resolve seemingly insurmountable differences, and ultimately live their lives authentically. After many years living in southern California, Tara, her soulmate honey and her soulmate dog decided they wanted less cars and more trees, prompting a move to Ashland, Oregon where Tara's creating new stories and loving living in a small town with big culture. Likely a Gryffindor or maybe a Ravensclaw but possessed of Parseltongue, Tara loves animals of all kinds, diversity, open minds, coconut crunch ice cream from Zoeys, and her readers. She also loves to hear from you.
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Books by Tara Lain
From Tara Lain Books – Available in KU
PENNYMAKER TAILS SERIES
Sinders and Ash
Driven Snow
Beauty, Inc
Never
THE ALOYSIUS TALES SERIES
Spell Cat
Brush with Catastrophe
Cataclysmic Shift
EVER AFTER, NEW YORK STORIES
Better Red
FUZZY LOVE
Passions of a Papillon
Prancing of a Papillon
BALLS TO THE WALL
Volley Balls
Fire Balls
Beach Balls
FAST Balls
High Balls
Snow Balls
Bleu Balls
TALES OF THE HARKER PACK
The Pack or the Panther
Wolf in Gucci Loafers
Winter’s Wolf
LONG PASS CHRONICLES
Outing the Quarterback
Canning the Center
Tackling the Tight End
GENETIC ATTRACTION SERIES
The Scientist and the Supermodel
Genetic Attraction
The Pretty Boy and the Tomboy
Genetic Celebrity
HOLIDAY NOVELLAS
Mistletowed
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Be Bad, For Goodness Sake
STANDALONE TITLES
Home Improvement - A Love Story
From Dreamspinner Press
Hearts and Flour
Trex or Treat
COWBOYS DON’T
Cowboys Don’t Come Out
Cowboys Don’t Ride Unicorns
Cowboys Don’t Samba
DREAMSPUN BEYOND #15 – Rome and Jules
DREAMSPUN DESIRES #5 – Taylor Maid
LOVE IN LAGUNA
Knight of Ocean Avenue
Knave of Broken Hearts
Prince of the Playhouse
Lord of a Thousand Steps
Fool of Main Beach
LOVE YOU SO
Love You So Hard
Love You So Madly
Love You So Special
Love You So Sweetly
MOVIE MAGIC ROMANCES
Return of the Chauffeur’s Son
Love and Linguistics
SUPERORDINARY SOCIETY
Hidden Powers
Rising Magic
From Pride Publishing
DANGEROUS DANCERS
Death Dancer
Audiobooks by Tara Lain available at Audible, Amazon, and Audiobooks.com
Keep Reading for an Excerpt from SINDERS AND ASH
Book One in The Pennymaker Tales
A Cinderella Retelling
At Amazon and KU
Damn the ashes! Mark pulled off his knit cap and banged it against his dirty pant leg. He could barely see for the soot. Not that you had to see well to wash fireplaces, and they had him cleaning every damned one. Everything had to be perfect for the arrival of the “handsome prince.”
Mark gave his horn-rimmed glasses a quick wipe on an edge of the blue cotton jacket that housekeeping gave him to wear each day. The hotel staff washed the jacket, but the jeans were his own, and it was hell to keep them clean. He stepped away from the huge fireplace and glanced in a decorative mirror. Yep. He resembled a tall, slim raccoon. It would be funny if—