Waiting for Love

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Waiting for Love Page 16

by Lacey Black

I can’t get back up to my room quick enough. Making a mental note to apologize to my mom later, I press the button to return to the sixth floor with an extra spring of anticipation in my step. I always wondered what I’d do or say when I came face-to-face with Rachel again. Would old feelings, the love mixed with anger, return?

  The answer is hell no.

  Actually, the only feeling I felt toward her was pity, because she’s clearly the same gold digging, conniving woman she’s always been. I feel absolutely sorry for her, and not because I have feelings for her, but because I realize she’ll never experience the true joy of falling.

  Falling in love? Maybe.

  It’s way too soon for that declaration or to even think about the L-word, but I definitely feel something strong, something so right when Penelope is near. Hell, even when she’s not near. Just the thought of her sets my blood pumping through my veins and my heart pounding in my chest.

  The doors opens and I practically race to my room. I swipe my key across the sensor and wait impatiently for the light to flash green. I’m inside moments later, all thoughts of Rachel and the past gone. All that’s left is Penelope now.

  All I need.

  I glance at the bed, a little disappointed to find it empty, and drop the bag of condoms beside the cold coffees on the dresser. A quick glance in the bathroom confirms she’s not in there either. When I step back into the main room, something hits me.

  Her suitcase is gone.

  What the hell?

  Where did she go?

  My feet are moving before I can even stop myself. I fly out of my room, the elevator at the end of the hall closing, and rush to her door. I knock loudly, not caring that I might wake someone in a room nearby. When it goes unanswered, I do it again, this time a bit longer.

  Nothing.

  She’s not here.

  I make my way back to my room, trying to wrap my head around what’s happening. Penelope spent the night in my room—in my bed. This morning, I left her sleeping and slipped out, anxious to buy a box of condoms, like we had discussed last night, and two coffees, only to be sidetracked by my family the moment I stepped back into the hotel. From that point on, nothing has gone the way I had planned.

  I look around the room, searching for any sign that might suggest she’ll be back, but I find nothing. Every trace of Penelope is gone. It’s as if she wasn’t here.

  As if our time together didn’t happen.

  Just when I drop down onto the hard, uncomfortable chair, I find a piece of paper balled up near the trash. Reaching for it, I flatten it out best I can and gaze down at the letter and note. I remember seeing something like this inside Penelope’s suitcase when I went to retrieve her luggage early this morning. It was lying on top of her clothes, folded in half, and when I brought everything to my room, it fell from the unzipped suitcase and onto the floor. I remember picking it up and slipping it under the suitcase, careful not to invade her privacy by reading whatever it was. It looked sort of official—like a letter—but it wasn’t mine to read, so I didn’t.

  But now it’s in my hands, having been crumbled up and thrown toward my trash, and I’m a little surprised by what I read. The first page is a letter. Not just any letter, one to The Love Vixen from Waiting in Washington.

  Why does that sound so familiar?

  Then it hits me.

  Patrick. He was droning on and on about a recent letter to The Love Vixen from a woman complaining about her dating life and her horrible neighbor. Patrick insisted Waiting must have been Penelope.

  Could he actually be right?

  I read the letter a second time, trying to process the information in my hand. At the bottom of her letter is The Love Vixen’s reply. I read that three, four times before finally flipping the paper over and reading the next page. This one contains a list.

  “Honesty, faithfulness, someone who makes me smile, and can clean up his own messes. Someone who loves cats. Someone who can sit by a fire or on a swing and doesn’t need to fill the time with idol chitchat for the sake of hearing himself talk. Someone who will hold my hand. Someone who isn’t embarrassed to dance, even when there’s no music. Someone who likes the rain. Someone who makes my toes curl every time he kisses me.”

  All I can do is stare down at the list. At her list. At the things she’s looking for in a partner.

  I run my hand over my face and scan the sheet one last time before folding it in half and tossing it on the dresser. I need to find Penelope.

  Now.

  I make sure I have my phone and key and head back out the door. Before I go to the elevator, I stop and listen against her door, trying to see if I can hear any noise to indicate she’s inside. Not hearing a thing, I race for the elevator, pulling out my phone while I wait for the car. I don’t have her number—something I had hoped to remedy before our date tonight—so I can’t call her. I need to find one of her friends for help.

  I need Teagan.

  Back in the restaurant, I ignore Rachel, who’s sitting at a table with three other women, and make a beeline for my family. Their food is just being delivered as I approach, catching them off guard. “Theo, how nice of you to return. Would you like to sit?” Mom asks, stabbing a strawberry with her fork.

  “No, thank you, I don’t have time right now. I apologize for interrupting, but Teagan, do you think I can have a word?”

  She looks at me confused but nods quickly and stands up.

  “Everything all right?” my brother asks, getting ready to follow.

  “It’s fine, really. I’ll have your wife back in just a second,” I insist, not waiting for his reply before turning and walking back around the small wall with plants.

  “Sorry to interrupt your breakfast, but I need your help getting ahold of Penelope.”

  “Pen? She’s not with you?”

  “No, she left my room before I got back,” I tell her, fighting the urge to start pacing.

  A huge smile breaks out on her face. “So she was with you last night! I knew it!”

  I sigh and shake my head. “Yes, she was with me, but now isn’t the time. I need to find her.”

  More confusion crosses her face. “But I don’t understand. She texted a bit ago saying she was on her way down here.”

  That makes me pause. “Down here?”

  She nods. “Yeah, it was right when we were entering the restaurant. She sent me a message saying she was on her way. Your mom had mentioned she invited her last night. I just assumed she overslept or something.”

  “But she didn’t show up here,” I insist, trying to piece everything together, yet feeling like I’m missing a big-ass puzzle piece.

  “No, I don’t think so. I mean, the only one who did was Rachel, who I’m so glad you’re not still with her, by the way.”

  Rachel.

  Holy shit.

  Did Penelope come down and find Rachel sitting at the table?

  Is that why she ran?

  Realization sets in on my new sister-in-law’s face as well. “Shit, that probably looked bad. Especially the way she was pawing you and laughing.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Hey, is everything all right? I’m starting to get a little worried my brother is trying to steal my new wife,” Trevor says with a laugh, joining us around the corner from the rest of the family.

  “Yeah, sorry about that,” I start, but Teagan cuts me off.

  “I was just trying to help Theo get the girl,” she says, wrapping her arms around her husband.

  “Really? The one he’s been crushing on forever? I’m in.”

  I roll my eyes at my brother. “I have not,” I argue, but it falls on deaf ears.

  “Where is she?” Trevor asks.

  Before I can speak, Teagan jumps in. “We think she left after she came down and saw Rachel sitting at the table,” she states, pulling a face when she says my ex’s name.

  “Shit, now what?” Trevor asks, concerned eyes my way.
/>
  “No idea, but I need to speak to her. Problem is, I don’t have her number.” I glance at Teagan, expectedly.

  A Cheshire cat grin spreads across her lips. “I can help with that.”

  We put our heads together, and within seconds, a plan starts to form. A good plan, actually. One that comes from my heart, and with a few comments and suggestions from the new Mr. and Mrs. Emerson that only seem to make it better.

  They return to the table to finish their brunch, while I shoot off a quick text message.

  Me: This is Theo. I need to speak to you and clear some things up.

  She doesn’t reply, but I don’t expect her to. At least not yet. She’s driving. But I feel better about what comes next.

  All I can do is try. Throw it all out there, and if that doesn’t work, then at least I did my best.

  But if it does work, I may have finally found the one thing I’ve always wanted yet have been afraid to go after.

  Her.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Penelope

  The drive back to Appleton takes way longer than it should, thanks to an accident that rerouted traffic off the highway. So when I finally pull into my driveway almost three hours after I left the hotel in Seattle, I’m beat. Lack of sleep last night and white-knuckled traffic will do that to a person.

  Well, that and my unsettled thoughts about Theo.

  I can’t believe he found that list. Could it be any more embarrassing? Especially after finding him having brunch with his ex-fiancée. How desperate I must have looked to him. Well, I may have actually been a bit desperate when I wrote that letter to The Love Vixen, but that’s beside the point. The point is I never actually thought anyone would figure out I was Waiting in Washington, especially the man I just spent the night with. That’s probably the reason he went running straight into her arms.

  No one likes a desperate woman.

  Sighing, I grab my suitcase from my trunk and head for the back door. As soon as I cross the threshold, I hear a meow. Annabelle is sitting on the couch, staring at me. “Hey, Annabelle. Sorry to interrupt your nap.”

  Yes, I’m talking to my cat.

  The one who doesn’t really like me.

  I’m that sad.

  Tossing my suitcase onto my bed to deal with later, I return to the living room and flop down on the couch, opposite my feline. I dig my phone from my purse and find two messages. The first one I click right away after seeing the name on the screen.

  Teagan: Where’d ya go? I thought you were coming down for brunch.

  Me: Sorry, I started to not feel well and decided to just come home to rest. It was a beautiful celebration. I’m so honored to have been a part of it all. Thank you and love you!!

  Teagan: Thank you for coming and all you did. You’re an amazing friend who deserves the world. Get some rest and feel better soon.

  When I return to check the other message, I find it from a number I don’t recognize, but spotting the first line, my heart skips a beat as my finger hovers over the screen.

  Unknown: This is Theo. I need to speak to you and clear some things up.

  I set my phone aside, trying to figure out how to reply. I really don’t want to have the whole “it’s not you, it’s me” conversation right now, but since the man on the other end of the phone is my neighbor, we’re probably going to have to have it sooner, rather than later.

  Before I can type out a reply, the bubbles appear and another message pops up on the screen.

  Unknown: You saw my message. I’m almost home. I’m coming over as soon as I get there.

  Trying to buy a little more time, I fire back with a quick put-off.

  Me: I’m not feeling well. Probably best not to come over.

  Unknown: I just spent the night inside you. Any sickness you may have I’ve already been exposed to.

  He went there, didn’t he.

  I try again.

  Me: It’s not necessary, Theo. What happened happened. No need to rehash the night. It was great, but now we’re home and can go on with our lives.

  He replies right away.

  Unknown: Bullshit. I’m almost there.

  Me: Stop texting and driving.

  Unknown: Stop trying to get rid of me.

  I set the phone aside, realizing it’s useless. He’s going to knock on my door any time now, but maybe that’s okay. Get this uncomfortable conversation over with. Rip off the Band-Aid. Then move on with my life.

  Needing to move, I head for the kitchen and grab a bottle of water. Just as I’m taking the first sip, I hear Theo’s big truck pulling into our shared driveway. I peek out the back window and watch him park outside in front of the garage. He jumps out, even though I can’t see him, and shuts the door. I realize I’m holding my breath as his heavy boots walk across my patio and approach the door.

  Even though I know he’s there, I startle when he knocks.

  Steeling my back, I open the door, taking in his soft smile and slightly disheveled appearance. His hair is messy, and his chin is covered with extra growth. He’s wearing worn blue jeans and a dark shirt, one that has a few wrinkles across the chest, and he looks positively yummy. Like steal your breath, take off your panties yummy.

  Too bad that won’t be happening again.

  “Hey,” he says easily.

  “Hi.” I grip the door, holding it between us like a shield.

  “Listen, I think we need to talk,” he starts, making my stomach drop to my shoes. Nothing good ever happens after that opening line.

  “It’s okay,” I counter, keeping a firm grip on the door. “There’s nothing to say, really.”

  He seems slightly confused. “There isn’t?”

  “No. I mean, we both got caught up in the wedding, right? The ambiance, the dancing. We were both the single ones, so it was natural for us to gravitate toward each other.”

  His eyebrows arch upward. “Because we’re single?”

  I nod. “Yes. Nothing brings out the loneliness of being single like a wedding. That’s all it was. No reason to think it was anything but a brief bout of attraction mixed with convenience.”

  “Convenience.” He doesn’t seem convinced.

  I’m not either, but that’s beside the point.

  “Exactly. I know we talked about going on a date, but that seems silly now, don’t you think?” I don’t give him an opportunity to actually answer. “We’re so different. I think it would be best if we just forgot all about that and moved on. I mean, we’re neighbors, right? We have to live next door. Why risk that…friendship over a bad date?” My chuckle is as awkward as I feel, but there’s no going back now. I’m determined to stick this landing, even if the dive feels off.

  “So, we shouldn’t date because our chemistry is purely sexual and we’re friendly neighbors, so we don’t want to ruin that?” he asks, his gaze holding a hint of humor.

  “Yes. Exactly.”

  He nods, and I’m not sure if I feel relief at his agreement or despair. I guess that just goes to prove we really weren’t as compatible as it may have felt last night.

  I give him a quick, forced grin and start to close the door. “Well, I’m going to go lie down for a bit. I’m glad we were able to have this talk.”

  Just before I shut the door, his hand jumps out, stopping it. “Actually, I do have one thing to say,” he starts, clearing his throat. “I think everything you said is bullshit. Actual bullshit. It’s an excuse, Pen, and I’m not going to let you use it.” He meets my surprised gaze with one of determination. “I’m not going to let you go. You’re the one I want, not Rachel. Not anyone. You. My sexy neighbor with the most gorgeous green eyes and auburn hair. You have me so tied up in knots, I care barely think straight.”

  I open my mouth to argue, but nothing comes out.

  “I’m going to walk away right now, only because I think you need some time for that to sink in. You and me? We’re not done, honey. Not by a long shot. In f
act, we’re just getting started. I feel more when I’m with you than I ever have, and I’m going to prove it.”

  My mouth is gaping open at this point. “How?”

  He gives me that smirk—the one that used to drive me absolutely bonkers but now secretly love—and says, “Just watch, Pen.” Theo leans forward, shoving his face through the small opening left by the door and kisses my forehead. “Watch,” he insists, before turning and heading back to his side of the property line.

  My heart is racing as I shut the door, making sure to secure the lock. I walk back into the living room without realizing I’ve made the trek, my mind reeling from his statement. His declaration. The determination I saw in his brown eyes.

  Was I wrong about what I saw in the restaurant with Rachel? Perhaps. I have a really hard time believing Teagan would have just sat there and let it happen the way my mind portrayed. What kind of friend would she be if she didn’t say something afterward? I know what kind of friend that would make her, and that’s not her. She’s fiercely loyal to me and the rest of our group. We’ve been through so much together, and if Theo was getting back with his ex, I know she’d be the first to tell me.

  Sighing, I return to the couch and close my eyes. If I could just shut off my brain for a little bit, I might be able to relax and put this entire situation into perspective. Something I desperately need.

  Annabelle’s collar bell chimes in my ear as I feel her step onto my legs. Surprised, I gaze down at my cute cat and watch in amazement as she spins around and settles against me. She never wants to snuggle, even when she’s sleeping near my pillow.

  “I think I might have messed up, Annabelle,” I say, rubbing her head absently. She starts to purr. “I really, really like Theo. He’s completely different than the man I thought he was. Well, I mean, he’s still gorgeous and slightly annoying, but he’s not as bad as I thought. I spent a lot of time with him recently, and, well, I think we’re pretty good together.”

 

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