Page 58 of At First Smile
A throat clears. “Pen, are you okay?”
Oh yeah, the hostess. In the flurry of seeing Pen, I’d forgotten we are in a public place. Despite being the only customers in the bakery’s outdoor seating area by design, there’s still staff present.
Our gazes remain locked, but Pen nods. “Yeah, Jela. Just surprised.”
“I hope a good surprised,” I say quietly.
“Jury’s out.”
“Ok. I’ll give you a few minutes for jury deliberation. Take your time, you’re our only customers today after all,” Jela snarks.
“What? Only customers?” Pen blinks, pivoting towards Jela.
The hostess smirks and motions to me. “Tall and dreamy over there bought out the restaurant for the day.” With a wink, she saunters away.
“Rowan…” Pen spins, facing me and gapes. “You didn’t… Why?”
I rub the nape of my neck. “To see you.”
“How did you know I would be here?” Shoulders stiff, she steps away from me.
“It’s Saturday.” The hard lump in my throat almost clogs the words from coming out.
Her face scrunches. “Explain.”
“I never got your number. Add it to the long list of bonehead decisions I made with you. I am so sorry, Pen.” I swallow, forcing the lump down. “I wanted…needed to—” My fingers rake into my hair. “I wanted to tell you everything and I knew I needed to apologize in person. You deserve that.”
Her fingers wrap tight around Cane Austen’s handle. For strength or to leave, I don’t know.
Pen’s eyes drag to the flowers on the table. “You’re here because I told you about my Saturday ritual.” Each word is slow and deliberate.
“Yes.” My gaze follows hers and my chest constricts. “I’m a selfish bastard.” I reach for her but stop myself.
The last thing she needs right now is me touching her. Even if holding her hand is the only thing that can quell this tornado ofemotions storming inside me. For the last year she’s dealt with a controlling and manipulative man who stalked her after she broke up with him. A man who would show up wherever she was and make unwelcome grand gestures. A man who sent flowers.
“Alex,” I hiss, scrubbing my hand down my face. “Christ, I should have thought. I swear?—”
“I know… It’s okay.”
Is it?My hands clench and unclench at my sides. I want to throttle him. I want to hold her. I want to punch myself.
“Pen—”
The slow shake of her head dismisses my coming words. “What if I hadn’t shown up? What would you have done?” Her voice is quiet, but steady.
“I would have just kept coming back week after week.” I close my eyes, knowing it was the wrong thing to say. Was there anything more stalkerish? It’s the truth, though, and I promised myself I wouldn’t hide from Pen ever again.
Facing me, playfulness softens her expression. “That would have gotten costly.”
Nodding, my lips rise into a small smile. “Worth it.”
“What do you want, Rowan?”
To kiss you. To hold you. To fall to my knees and beg for forgiveness. To spend the rest of my life and even beyond working to be the man who deserves a woman like you.None of that passes my lips.
Instead, I say, “To share a baklava croissant with you.”
She arches an eyebrow. Steely resolve hardens her features.
