Page 70 of At First Smile
A sad, wistful expression etches on her face. “Books. We’d read about a place in a novel and add it to the list.” She pushes a lock of hair behind her ear. “Did your mom take you on trips as a kid?”
“No. We three boys were a lot.” My lips turn down. “Well, mainly me and Gillian. We fought all the time.”
“Like bickering or…” She raises her hands into fists and pantomimes punching. Her smile is infectious.
God, she’s adorable.“We were known to leave each other with a fat lip or black eye. As much as Finn enjoys helping either of us fuck with the other, he spends more time playing peacemaker or referee.”
Her head tilts to the right. “Do you two still beat each other up like that?”
“It’s more words or silent indifference these days.” Shrugging, I move towards the kitchen island. “I know you lived with JoJo while at university, but did you live with Aunt Bea after?”
It’s an abrupt subject change but needed. Talking about Gillian tightens a knot in my stomach. As much as I can talk for hours about Finn, Gillian is a different story. Unlike in Michigan, I’m not hiding this from Pen, but I’m just not ready to unspool that knot, not yet. The guilt and shame that twines the negative emotions surrounding my relationship with Gillian are too much for this moment. Still…
“I’m sorry.” I grip the granite countertop’s edge. “I’m not trying to be evasive…” My face scrunches. “Or maybe I am. I just don’t want to talk about him tonight if that’s okay… Unless you want to.”
“When you’re ready.” She reaches across the counter and squeezes my arm.
Placing my other hand atop hers, settled on my arm, I squeeze back.
“JoJo and I discussed getting an apartment together after undergrad, since we’d both be attending grad school at the same place, but Aunt Bea was diagnosed with breast cancer, so I moved back. She hadn’t asked but–” With a sad expression, Pen sighs. “It just felt right. She’d always been there for me, and I wanted to do the same.”
“She was lucky to have you.” My fingers link with hers.
“I was the lucky one.” Nodding, she withdraws her hand and turns.
My mouth opens to ask more, but I close it. In the eleven days since Pen had strolled into my life, she’s taught me there’s a time to push, a time to pull, and a time to just let someone be.
“Individuals or share?” She opens a cabinet beside the oven.
“Share.” Leaning forward, I place my elbows on the island countertop. “Want help?”
“I got this.” She pulls down a bowl. “Make yourself cozy. Looks like GB is.”
Following her mirth-filled gaze, I find the dog sprawled on the couch atop a makeshift bed made from the once neatly organized inspirational pillows. His paws drape off the side of the couch and a quiet snore hums out of him.
“GB,” I groan as I straighten. “Down.” Snapping my fingers, I motion at the dog, who ignores me completely.
“Leave my boyfriend alone. He’s tired after our date.”
Rounding the counter, I wrap my arms around her middle and tuck her into my chest. “Am I in a throuple with you and my dog?”
“Absolutely not!” she scoffs. “You’re just our chauffeur.”
My heart tugs just a little bit more at that. It’s not shocking GB fell so quickly for Pen. After all, I have. GB can be a little rough around the edges. He’s obstinate and, despite the very expensive dog trainer recommended by Sasha, he’s disobedient. Still, nothing but admiration shines in Pen’s eyes as she stares at him. Even at the park when he peed on every tree between the parking lot and the grassy amphitheater, she cooed, “Is that your tree too? Classic only child syndrome.”
Grinning, I nuzzle into her neck. “In three of my brother’s books, the chauffeur gets the girl in the end, so I like my chances.”
“Hear that GB? He’s trying to steal your girl,” she teases, placing a large brownie in the bowl.
You’re my girl. Mine.The idea of Pen being anyone’s girl but mine fills me with a feral protectiveness I’ve never experienced with any woman. It’s primal. It’s possessive. It has me tightening my grip around her waist.
“What does Finn write?”
“Historical romance.” I kiss below her ear, enjoying the way she melts into me.
She spins in my arms. “If you’re going to distract me, I’ll put you to work.”
“Gladly.” My arms band around her, pressing her soft curves against the hard planes of my body.
