Page 28 of At First Smile
“Pen was a show choir kid like me. We were swapping choir competition battle stories. Turns out our Pen won a New York state solo competition.”
Ours?Not yours, buddy.I battle the snarl building in my throat over his presumption.
Pen fiddles with her bracelet, a light pink invades her cheeks. “That was a long time ago.”
“She’s beautiful and talented.” Lola winks, but I’m not entirely sure if it’s at her nephew or me.
“It will be fun,” Harley pushes.
“She doesn’t have to sing if she doesn’t want to,” I snap, glaring at Harley.
Pen’s warm palm rests on mine, but her eyes turn to Harley. “Let me think about it.”
“Alright.” He stands up, reaches across the table, and lifts Pen’s hand to his lips. “I’ll hold you to that promise.”
My fingers curl tight around the glass.
“I need to set up and I’m suddenly feeling inspired to do a different song for my opening number.” Releasing Pen’s hand, he winks, and walks away.
Lola leans in, nudging Pen’s shoulder. “Oh, I think he’s got a crush on you.”
“Of course,” I grumble under my breath.
Lola’s gray eyes drop to me. “Of course, is right. It’s a wonder this girl is single. I hadn’t even introduced them yet, and Harley was already over here chatting her up. I’m sure she has to useCane Austen”—she gestures to where Pen’s cane sits folded at her feet— “to fight off all the suitors. Imagine being around her andnotmaking a move. You’d have to be foolish.” She glares at me, steely judgment glints in her stare.
Something swirls in my gut at the dare in her statement. “You’re right,” I murmur, my stare fixing on Pen.
Pen clears her throat and flutters her hands in the air. “Did you know Rowan owns a pub?”
“Pub owner?” Lola leans back, crossing her arms over her chest. “Is it asportspub?”
The inflection tells me she knows exactly who I am. I shift in my seat.
“It’s a little Canadian and Irish. With his love of hockey, I’m sure that dominates the TVs,” Pen offers.
“I’m sure it does.” Lola’s face twists into a knowing expression. “I need to check on Vicki at the front desk, but the next round will be on me. I’ll let our bartender know.” Lola squeezes Pen’s forearm and stands up. “Rowan, you should try the local IPA we serve. It’s from Bobcat Brewery. You may enjoy it. It’s scrappy.” With a wry grin, she walks away.
Bobcat?She knows exactly who I am.I pull the brim of my hat low as if it would somehow erase Lola’s knowledge. If she recognizes me, who else does? My eyes flick around the room. Nobody is staring in our direction. The only eyes on us are Harley’s, who sets up his equipment on the small stage in the corner of the room, and that stare remains on Pen.
A small palm rests on my knee, dragging my gaze back to Pen’s open eyes. “Are you okay?” she asks, her brow wrinkled.
I need to tell her who I am.My hand blankets hers as if I’m hoping to hold her in place. “Pen, I?—”
“Oh my gosh!” An excited voice shrills. “Sorry. I know famous people hate when we do this but aren’t you?—”
Shit.
CHAPTER SEVEN
It’s Not For Him
Pen
Rowan’s body stiffens beneath my touch, but his hand tightens around mine. Just more of the push and pull that’s flown from him most of the day. There’s no doubt that he wants me. Finding me with Harley, he’d all but planted a giant flag branded withRowan’s Girlin florescent letters. And when he called me “luv” I could have melted. Still, he holds back.
I get it. There’re so many reasons to hold back. They stack up inside me. We just met. Despite what my heart protests, we don’t really know each other. It’s risky, all relationships are. I have these same concerns, but a quiet part of me worries it may be the same reason the boys I liked in high school and college didn’t date me. I’m too much trouble. They see past the woman I am, focusing only on my disability and conjure images of needing to take care of me.
“Are you Pen Meadows?” the woman asks, pulling my focus to her.
