by L. L. Muir
If only Colin had been half as open-hearted.
Chapter Fourteen
Penny was pretty excited by the time she reached the hill above the pier, guessing that Brian had brought her another rescued dog to add to her pack. She assumed the man had put the poor creature in a kennel to keep it safe for the ride, because nothing moved on his boat other than the man himself. He was generous and loveable, to her anyway. A tall man with short gray hair and a scraggly red beard that was never, ever trimmed, and which he claimed was never washed except by an occasional rogue wave.
“Brian!” She waved furiously. He looked up and waved back before resuming the task of placing boxes on the pier. Three boxes. No air holes.
She hadn’t ordered anything, so her curiosity had her hopping down the path. She shouted, “Those for me?”
Brian shrugged. “In a manner of speakin’.” He climbed onto the pier and waited for her to reach him, then he picked her up and swung her around. “How is ma’ fair wee barra? Weather the storm all right, then?”
“Aaaye, I dud,” she said, mocking is accent.
“And how’s the pack?”
“Just fine. Named the new one Milkshake.” She peeked at the floor of the boat. “I don’t suppose you brought me another—” She took a couple of deep breaths to let her heart calm down and to find her voice again. “Tom. What are you doing here?”
Same hair. Same face. Same trendy clothing that had no place on Stroma. A maroon, button-collared shirt beneath an expensive cashmere sweater. But happily, the man as a whole didn’t provoke the same old reaction on her part.
“I told Brian here I wanted to surprise you.” Tom threw out his hands. “Surprise!”
Brian scowled at him, then turned to her. “He also said ye wanted him back, that it would be a welcome surprise. Shall I give him his coffee?”
Giving someone their coffee meant ripping them a new one, but she didn’t think the dear man should have to deal with Tom. He’d already had to put up with having the chronic complainer on his boat.
She shook her head. “It’s all right. I can handle this. Are you in a hurry?”
Brian nodded. “Headed to St. Margaret’s Hope. Should be passing by again in three, maybe four hours.”
She gave him a wink and whispered, “Add us to the plan, then.”
The captain gave her arms a squeeze, then let her go and climbed back into his boat, limping slightly.
“Leg looks good,” she said. “Glad you survived.”
He pointed to the wheelhouse where a twelve-inch hook was embedded in the wood. “I kept it as a souvenir, but if ye have need, I can leave it with ye.” They laughed together, knowing that Tom didn’t know what was implied. Then suddenly, Brian sobered, his eyes on something at the top of the hill. “Tripled the population, have ye noo?”
At the top of the slope, Ethan Moodie stood with his hands on his hips looking both relieved and displeased. Face dripping and short of breath, he started down. When he reached the pier, Brian spoke again.
“Popular place, is yer Stroma.”
“Too popular if ye ask me,” Moodie mumbled as he passed her, avoiding her gaze. “I would have a word with ye, captain.”
Penny waited to catch his attention, to see what he intended, but once he was aboard Pride o’ Caithness, he was deep in conversation.
“It’s freezing,” Tom said from behind her. “Let’s get up to the house.”
She turned around and searched his face, to try to figure out what his game was. But all he did was smile, holding onto one of the boxes like it weighed fifty pounds.
He nodded to the two that remained on the pier. “Your friend can bring the last one, can’t he?”
She shrugged. “He’s capable of just about anything.” She just didn’t intend to ask. And she wasn’t about to carry box number two. It was better if only one made it to the house, anyway, so Tom could carry it back to the pier solo.
She didn’t know anyone’s plans except her own. And her plan was to make sure that Tom G. Lloyd never spent another night on her island.
She headed up the hill empty handed and was surprised when Tom’s only complaint, seeing her hands empty, was to gasp. She half expected him to stomp his feet and refuse to take a step if she didn’t help. Something was definitely up. And something was definitely wrong with her for thinking, once upon a time, that this pansy was the sun and the moon.
Though she tried to resist, she couldn’t help looking back once she reached the top of the hill. Tom was trudging along behind her. Ethan was looking at her while explaining something to Brian. Brian looked up and waved, interrupting whatever the big Scot was saying.
“Hey? Next time I deliver yer messages, I’ll stay for coffee and a good tale, aye?”
By messages, he meant groceries. And by coffee, this time he meant actual coffee. The strong kind. And he expected to hear why the population of Stroma was currently three instead of one.
Hopefully, by then, she’d understand enough to be able to explain it.
Chapter Fifteen
The house was chilly, and though it was tempting to leave it that way to keep Tom from staying inside, Penny piled kindling and wood into the pot-bellied stove for her own sake. It was hard to think clearly when she was cold, and with both Tom and Ethan on the island, she had to stay alert.
Tom wasn’t far behind, but she did have the fire going before he finally pushed through the doorway. He set his box on the floor by the bookshelf, assuming that Fergus wasn’t around to complain, which, sadly, he wasn’t. And just as if he’d never left, Tom kicked off his boots on the way across the room to the fire.
In her mind, she could see the ghost of the old Penny picking up the boots and stacking them neatly by the door, never thinking of complaining, waiting for a word of gratitude. It made her sick to her stomach.
This time, she picked up the boots and threw them at Tom without warning him first. He sputtered and gasped, then muttered, “Careful.”
She warmed her hands for a minute, then went to the desk and opened the laptop. Tom was suddenly there, sitting on the corner, closing the computer before it had time to turn on.
“Don’t you want to welcome me home, first, before you get lost in your numbers?”
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, wondering how long she would have to put up with him. Three? Four hours? On the bright side, there was about a ten percent chance the sun would come out. If it got warm enough, she could lock him outside and not feel too bad about it.
“Fine.” She pushed the computer away. “I’ll ask again. What are you doing here? And I don’t want to hear about surprises, or watches.”
“Oh yeah! My watch. Did you find it?”
“Yup. And I told you what I would do with it, right?” All she had to do was keep him out of the storage room so he wouldn’t see the box.
He looked at her sideways. “You wouldn’t.” He shook his head and smiled like he didn’t believe her.
“I bought it. I was free to do whatever I wanted with it.”
“It was a gift. A gift I loved.” He stood and sat just a few inches closer.
“I bet you did.” She folded her arms to prevent him from scooting any farther. “When you left it behind, you were giving it back. And I gave it to King Neptune. Now, one more time. Why are you here?”
His reply was a whole lot of rambling with very little substance, and it only proved to make her more suspicious. The more he talked, the more nervous he became, until he finally got up and started pacing while he droned on about what he’d been doing since he left, and how miserable he’d been.
Watching Tom pace, Penny was reminded of Ethan doing the same. It was endearing when a man in a kilt did it—she’d appreciated everything about him while his broad shoulders turned one way, then the other. It made the cottage seem smaller when he moved through it, but not in a bad way. More like he was the guardian of the cottage—a dragon and a princess occupying the same cozy cave.
When Tom did it
, it was just annoying.
“Stop moving around, will you? It’s driving me nuts. Sit down.” And that’s when she realized…it wasn’t Fergus that was ruined, it was Tom. After one frightening night inside the cottage, the dog had gone back to resume his place in the pack. Tom, on the other hand, was ruined for good—at least her image of him. Now that he’d come back to the island and she’d seen him clearly, he could never go back to being her alpha.
The fact that he had once been made her feel stupid.
Tom turned a chair around and sat so he was facing her. “Penny, I hope you understand that I take full responsibility for what happened last time I was here,” he said.
“You do?”
“Yes. I should have realized you weren’t ready. I should have believed you when you said you wanted more time. It was wrong of me.”
“Wow, that’s—thank you, Tom, that means a lot to me.”
Tom nodded, and then turned his chair back toward the stove. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his ankles and gazed at the fire. “It really is a cozy little cottage,” he said, then sighed.
It was the sigh that really set her off. He was able to make himself so comfortable in a space where he had committed so many wrongs. It was as if the whole matter of him attacking her, leaving her, betraying her, was all resolved with a simple apology.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” she said. “I’m going to have Captain Mackenzie stop and get you.”
“What? Not today!” Tom seriously seemed confused.
“You aren’t staying. There’s no good reason—”
“I disagree. I think we have a great deal to discuss. Our partnership went through a rough patch, I won’t deny it, but you know you need me out here. This project is bigger than both of us.”
“I’ve gotten along just fine alone. My name is on the lease, and I don’t want you here. You’re leaving today, and I never want you to come back.”
Tom uncrossed his legs slowly and turned to face her. “What are you talking about? You forgave me. I apologized and you forgave me.”
“You did. And I did. But that doesn’t mean I want you living here.”
With a speed she didn’t expect, Tom was out of his chair and leaning over her. She held up a hand to warn him not to come too close. He suddenly straightened, ran his hands through his hair, and turned away from her. He started to pace again, looking up at her every few moments to see what she thought of his pain. Penny watched him calmly, waiting for his next move. Eventually, he slowed and stopped in front of her chair again.
“Penny, I truly am sorry.”
She was cold as a machine, as cold as he’d often been to her. “I understand.”
“And I want to come back. I had a little melt down. This place will do that to anyone. But I’m over it.”
Penny shook her head. “It’s way too late.”
Tom’s eyes went wild for an instant before he closed them. “Why, exactly, is it too late?”
“Because I don’t trust you anymore. Because you tried to force me, then abandoned me when I didn’t want to sleep with you. Because you told me that your private sector contact would only work with me if I had you on my team…” Her voice trailed off as she remembered the email she had sent. “Hold that thought,” she muttered to herself, then went back to the desk.
“What are you doing?” Tom asked behind her, his voice strained.
She didn’t answer. Instead she opened her laptop and logged into her email. Sure enough, there was a reply from Beverly.
Dear Penelope,
What a wonderful surprise to hear from you. Although we were connected through Tom, I have no problem whatsoever continuing our relationship without him. I told him as much when he contacted me last month. We are interested in your data, and happy to provide you with funds and salaried support for your research. I can double the amount of the last grant. Please let me know if the number below is acceptable.
The below amount was four times what Tom said the first grant had been. He could have bought a case of Movado watches with the money he’d held back—and all while he’d insisted they needed to spend her grandfather’s money.
She’d always wondered if his leaving had less to do with sex and more to do with the fact that she’d put a lid on the money jar a week prior to his attack.
Tom was already leaning over her shoulder. “What are you working on now?” She turned the screen so he could read more easily. “That’s not research.”
“Nope. It’s my email.”
He straightened and started pacing again. “And you’ve been going behind my back? Peddling our work—”
“Nope. My work. Lots of new ideas, new data. All mine. Don’t forget. You left.”
Tom returned to the desk and took her hand, but she took it back.
“Listen,” he said, ignoring her rejection. “Don’t worry about it. I forgive you. Because, you know, I made mistakes too. We can just start over.”
“Um. No.”
“I said I was sorry. How long are you going to keep punishing me?”
Penny blinked at him without responding. What kind of confidence, misplaced or otherwise, would it take to think that coming back here with a simple apology would be enough to change everything?
Tom sighed and wandered over to the chair nearest the stove. When he sat, he was careful to let her see face. His bottom lip was pushed out like she’d struck him…or told him she didn’t like his outfit.
She watched his performance for a minute before she realized that he was waiting for an apology. With disgust, she remembered that the old Penny would have rushed to his chair and covered him in I’m sorry’s. How had she been so taken in by him? How had she allowed him to become so powerful, and her so weak?
She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him. Eventually he looked up, as if wondering what was keeping her. He wasn’t happy with her newfound composure.
Bored with it all, she turned back to the laptop.
“You’ve changed, Penny.” Tom’s voice was odd and loud, like he was trying to hold her attention. “You feel so cold.”
“I’m sorry that my attitude isn’t warm enough for you. You’re free to go.” She waved absently at the door.
He raised his voice again. “I didn’t realize I had hurt you so deeply.”
She wasn’t interested in talking about it and kept her back to him. “You didn’t.”
His chair scraped back and she could feel him getting closer. “I think I did. I think you loved me. If you didn’t, why would you be so upset now?” He turned her shoulder. “It’s all right, I love you, too.”
Penny recoiled. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what? Don’t remind you of how good we were together? Of how well we worked together? We’re meant to be. Admit it. You know I’m right.”
Penny shook her head. “I never loved you. Maybe I thought I did, but that was before I really knew…what it felt like to be…cherished. I could never go back to your idea of love.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for that ridiculous cretin?”
Penny started to worry that Tom had actually lost his mind. Why would he want to pick a fight with a guy that was going to walk through the door any second? Someone so much bigger, with actual muscles on his arms, not just bulky sweaters?
“Tom?”
“What?”
“You wanna tell me what’s going on?” Maybe I should have taken Brian up on the offer of a weapon, even if it was a giant fish hook.
“I just… I just want you to turn off your computer and talk to me. Let’s work this out.”
There was nothing to work out, but he seemed so on edge she didn’t dare press the point. Maybe, to be safe, she should just play nice until Pride o’ Caithness came back.
She looked over her shoulder to check the time on the laptop and Tom lost it, screeching at her to shut the damn thing.
The front door burst open. The sound alone made her jump, and she worried something horrib
le had happened to the dogs. Ethan Moodie, Highlander Extraordinaire, filled the space and nearly blocked out the light with his shoulders. He paused a second or two, blinking, then homed in on Tom. Three long strides later, and he was holding the other man off the ground with a fist twisted in his expensive sweater. Something flew and pinged the window. Penny thought it was probably the button from Tom’s collared shirt.
She hurried to close the door and keep the heat inside. “Ethan?”
“Yes, love?”
“Would you keep Tom over there while I check something?”
“No!” Tom reached toward her, then let his arm go limp. He closed his eyes and let his head drop, uncaring when Ethan allowed his feet to touch the ground again.
The Scot pointed to the closest chair. “Sit.”
Tom winced and sat.
Penny turned back to the laptop. A touch brought the screen back to life, just where she’d left it, with Beverly’s email filling the page.
There has to be something he doesn’t want me to see.
She read through the email again, twice, and found nothing new. He already knew she’d read the email and seen the number that proved he’d been lying to her about the grant money. What else was there to see?
She closed the email and looked at her Inbox again. There were four other emails that had come in before Beverly’s. The first three were from her uncle, her father, and her mother. And the one before that was from her friend, Jessica. She didn’t need to open it to understand why Tom had shown up at the pier and wanted back into her life. The subject line explained everything.
Upper Bubble Going Public!!!
Just great. She was rich again.
Chapter Sixteen
Penny skimmed the rest of the email, sent a brief reply, then closed the laptop. Jess had tried to get a hold of her and tell her personally, the moment it was legal to do so, but she’d only been able to reach Tom.
So that explained his sudden appearance.
Her parents and uncle must have seen the announcement on the news, but she didn’t have any intention of replying to them. At least, not until she was good and ready. Beverly’s email could wait another day too because, at the moment, her cottage was in jeopardy of going up in flames—testosterone flames. There was a distinct sensation of someone moving a lit match toward a fuse.
