Page 63 of Falling for You

The Zeus twins, as Penny calls them, come in from the back. They aren’t twins, not even brothers, but they’re both enormous at around 6’4” each and solid muscle.

As they get settled behind the bar, they take in the chaos that’s happening all around. “Holy shit. It’s crazy in here. What happened?”

“Ask that one,” I say, gesturing to Penny.

They shake their heads and both watch as she makes her way to the bar.

“You got them all wound up tonight, sugar?” Zeus #1 says.

“Sure do.” She leans over the bar and kisses him square on the mouth and I know my mouth gapes open when she repeats the action to Zeus #2. They obviously have names, but since they worked here the first night, that’s what Penny’s referred to them as and it’s kind of stuck.

Pointing between the three of them, I ask, “Uh. What is happening here?”

“The stuff dreams are made of,” Penny says, grinning.

“Do I even want to know?”

“Probably not.”

I have no idea if she’s seeing both of them or if it’s a ménage thing or what. But I’m not asking any questions. It’s their business, not mine. Just as long as they don’t fuck with Penny, I’m good with it. Though, I should probably feel a little sorry for them. Penny is definitely a force to be reckoned with.

“I’m out of here. Looks like you guys will get along fine without me.”

“Oh yeah. I think we can handle it just fine,” Penny says, looking happy as a cat that just got its cream.

One hour later, I’m pulling up to Chloe’s house. Freshly showered, clothes changed, and ready to take her on a date.

Something I’ve been oddly nervous about all day, I even struggled to decide what to wear, which is part of the reason I was glad to be able to go into The Goat for a few hours this afternoon. I needed the distraction and working on the meal prep app I’m working to develop wasn’t doing it. Which isn’t like me. Normally I can lock myself in my office, turn on my Bluetooth speaker and get lost in the codes and design, working all hours of the day if I don’t have to go into The Flying Goat. It’s one of the things I love most about working out of my home and contracting myself out rather than working for someone else.

It’s not like we haven’t spent time together. But I want our first official date to be memorable for her. And, honestly, for me as well. I haven’t been on a date since Amber, which was a long freaking time ago.

Shaking out my hands, I turn my head side to side, stretching it out then hearing the satisfying pop when the tightness cracks. Sitting at a desk all day, staring at computer screens tends to jack up my neck and shoulders and I haven’t been to the chiropractor in a while.

I knock on her front door and grin when I hear her squeal then shout, “Coming!”

I do a quick perusal of myself, dark straight leg jeans, brown boots with a matching belt, and blue plaid flannel untucked and arms rolled up to my elbows. When I asked her if she was craving anything for dinner, she suggested a restaurant known for its burgers. I’ve learned Chloe is far more comfortable in casual situations than if she is dressed up.

Another reason I like her so much.

The door opens and my heart stops.

My greedy eyes catalogue every inch of her and I twirl a finger in the air, silently telling her to show me her ass that I couldn’t stop staring at a few days ago.

Black top that ties on her side right at the waist but has a sexy as fuck cut out down the center of the shirt that gives me a hint of cleavage, jeans that cling to her every curve. Her hips have a slight flare to them and my fingers itch to grip them. And on her feet, a pair of tan, strappy sandals with a thick heel that looks like a cork. Her hair, long, thick waves that fall over her shoulders.

When she spins and gives me a look at her luscious ass, I have to bite back a groan. She’s what dreams are made of. Pin-up model-worthy. The type of beautiful that stops a man in his tracks.

When she’s once again facing me, I take a step toward her and slide a hand around her waist, leaning forward to place a lingering kiss on her cheek. “Hi, gorgeous.”

She blushes, “Hi there.”

“Ready?”

“I am.” She reaches behind her and lifts her purse off a bench by the door and her jacket off a hook above it.

I grip her hand in mine as I walk her to my pickup, open the door for her and can’t resist brushing my lips against hers. “You look incredible.”

“Thank you.” She lightly nibbles the corner of her lower lip and looks at me from under her dark lashes.

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