Page 14 of Hot Irish Halloween

ROSE TINT

PENNY

“Great. Just great.”

Penny stared at her face in the bathroom mirror with dismay. There were dark half-circles under her eyes, thanks to a night of tossing and tumbling. She’d been restless after contacting Jack with her decision to attend the ball (which she was only half kidding about potentially being an orgy). So, she’d picked up her phone, typed Jack’s name in the search engine, and started “researching.”

Was she more nervous about the ball or about seeing Jack again? It was decidedly about Jack. Leaving his side yesterday afternoon had been harder than she’d thought, considering she didn’t know him from Adam. He was still a stranger but one who had immediately felt so familiar. Not because he was apparently her neighbor, and she’d been watching him daily for the past two weeks with that little dog. There was just something about him that made her want to crawl on his lap and stay there, safe and warm.

But he made her nervous too. The intensity of his gaze, his almost overwhelming presence, all had her shivering like it was Greenland in winter.

She didn’t want to feel that, but she also couldn’t wait to see him again. What a fucking paradox. Either way, it was settled for her. Project Get Some was off the table as far as Jack Valentine was concerned.

“You need concealer,” she declared to her mirror self. That would come later when it was time to get dressed to go.

In the meantime, Penny had lunch and organized some notes for the next chapter of her book. She’d gotten a loaner fiddle from a music school in town. She played it more than the rented violin beside it. Her prized Stradivarius which she’d received as a gift from a beloved old professor in school was back home under the care of her parents. Just as well. She’d walked away from the dream of being a concert violinist a long time ago.

Penny took the fiddle downstairs to the living room and sat down to play some of the old handwritten sheet music she’d gotten from a fiddler up on the Isle of Skye in Scotland. She scribbled more notes about the unusual time signature and the melodic structure. It was unique, something she hadn’t heard anywhere else.

And as she played, Jack’s face rose unbidden to the surface of her mind. Of its own accord the music shifted, expanding beyond the notes and what she remembered hearing. It became something different, new. Something all her own. This music felt like her; but it felt like Jack as well, soulful yet powerful. Maybe even a bit dark but somehow sweet.

She stopped abruptly when she realized there were tears on her face. It was the first time since Brendan had died that she’d played original music. Penny knew it wasn’t something he would’ve liked very much.

Looking at his picture on the top shelf of the desk, Penny put down the fiddle and bow. People had tried comforting her over the years by saying he was always with her, watching over her. If that were true, what would he think of her playing a song while daydreaming about another man? Wanting another man? A man who made her head spin after one meeting, who’d inspired a longing in her that…

Don’t think it.

Guilt slid into the space between her ribs and into her heart. These were thoughts she never shared, not with anyone. Thoughts that would be so much worse if spoken.

The hours until she would see Jack again passed like the slow drip of molasses. Penny got her makeup on, arranged her hair so the coils fanned out just so, and put on a cute V-neck charcoal-gray wool dress with a jacket. She debated over whether the deep V showed too much cleavage, or if it clung too much to her double-D breasts and her ass. But what the hell, it was impossible to hide boobs her size and with shapewear, all things were possible.

The tummy control, thigh-slider shorts weren’t the sexiest thing to wrestle off in the heat of the moment. Good thing she wasn’t going to attempt having sex with Jack, even if he wanted to…which he still most likely didn’t, based on how gruff he’d been when their coffee date had ended. That guess had been strengthened by what she’d discovered during her night of research.

Apparently, the second he’d made the pro circuit, Jack wasn’t spotted anywhere without a woman on his arm. On the surface, there seemed to be a variety; a leggy French brunette actress at a movie premier. A gorgeous Chinese model from Singapore serving up a sultry pout at his first title fight. A beautiful ebony modelandbudding actress from the Sudan with her arm hooked through his in front of the Louvre at Paris Fashion Week. Andthe last was a bona fide girlfriend, a blonde with big boobs whom he’d dated for nearly a year, yet another model. This was a woman from L.A. whom he’d been with right up until his last title fight.

Model, actress, model, actress. All terrifically slim with sculpted features. He looked good with them. They fit.

Well. At least it meant Jack’s dick didn’t discriminate when it came to race. But it did mean Penny didn’t fit the mold. Even at her skinniest, she’d been “average girl” cute, not glamazon gorgeous.

This wasn’t an insecurity problem. Even after gaining her weight, she’d had men of all backgrounds make it very clear they wanted her both in and out of bed if she was willing.

Okay, maybe it was a little bit of an insecurity problem when it came to Jack. Those regular men were used to dating regular women. Model and actress territory was not their lane.

But fuck it, she didn’t want to actually start a relationship with the man. If Jack didn’t want her even for a night of fun, well…his loss. The minute that party was over with, she was going to make sure the app was functioning properly and tap the real Latin Lover on the shoulder.

At precisely 3:55, she received a text from Jack letting her know he was outside. She was on her way to the front door when the doorbell rang. Penny bared her teeth at the mirror before going to open it to make sure nothing was in them, then made her mouth relax into a grin despite her shaking hands.

“Show time,” she whispered to her image, then answered the door.

She had to smile again when she saw Jack standing there wearing a navy peacoat that fit his shoulders like a glove, gray dress pants and a pair of brown leather shoes. He held out a bouquet of rich, red roses, a bright splash of color against the dark navy coat. But when his eyes ran down her body from herface to her breasts through her open jacket and then the flare of her hips, his eyes widened, and his lips parted.

“Wow. You look…wow.” He looked away while she flushed like a fool at his reaction. Then he straightened up, blew out a breath and said, “I didn’t know if you liked flowers or not. Feel free to get rid of them if you don’t. Then you can tell me what you really like.” His voice lowered, sending sparks of desire to light up her body.

Was he flirting? The way he looked at her, the way his small finger brushed against the back of her hand when she reached to take the bouquet from him, made that pulse start throbbing in her again like the day before.

“I love them. Thank you.”

Jack’s hazel eyes raked up and down her body. He stepped closer and she was enraptured by his cologne and his heat. Sliding his warm hand across her waist, he leaned in and brushed his lips lightly across her cheek. They were firm yet ticklish on her skin.

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