Breathless (The ABCs of Love Book 2)

by Clover Hart

  “You need to make things right with her,” he finally says. “You need to tell her exactly what you told me.”

  Panic hits me.

  He pats me on the back. “It’s all part of love. You get out of it what you put into it.” He stands and holds his hand out for a shake. I look up at him, relieved he’s on my side, and we seal the deal, just like we did back in college when we first got the idea for Full Circle. Partners till the end.

  If anything, I’ve still got Zach.

  After he goes back to work, I sit on that bench for a while, watching Miss Carney and Mr. Doughte finish their game and then walk hand-in-hand to their neighboring Victorians. They both walk under her trellis, into her house, and then shut the door behind them.

  I want the same with Penny — to shut our own door, to be with each other in a place where we can be alone, letting down those walls we both have because we don’t need them anymore.

  So many walls. Cacti. Barriers.

  But I’m going to fix this, and if she tells me to fuck off again, I’ll fuck off for good. I don’t know what I’ll do after that, but I’ve got to try and tell her what I’m feeling, because this isn’t going away. It’s actually getting stronger as I sit here, wanting her, needing her.

  Walls. Cactus.

  I close my eyes, then open them and take out my phone. After I text Zach, telling him not to talk to Mandy about any of this right now, I access the phase-one FCT app with all of Cherry Valley’s shops on it that we haven’t released yet. I know exactly what I’m going to do.

  All I need is for it to work.

  Chapter 32

  Penny

  There’s traffic on the way back from Marloe, and the delay allows me to get my head together. I need to figure out what to do about Barry and my job at FCT. Fear is riding me like a wide-eyed monkey on my back, and the only way I’m going to shake it off is if I do something about Barry. But what?

  I park my car in my apartment’s lot. As I walk to my door, I fidget with my keys, my heart in my throat. I’m going to do it — I’m going to text Barry once I get inside. I know I shouldn’t come right out with a So you wanna give me another chance or what? I need to be subtle about this, even though I’m feeling anything but subtle.

  What will he text back? That he was hoping I would reach out all along? Or will he tell me to get bent?

  I’m fully jangling my keys now as I approach my porch, and when I see what’s in front of my door, I slow down. It’s a cactus. A big, prickly, pretty, totally real cactus in a ceramic pot, and it must’ve cost a fortune. There’s a note propped in the soil, and I’m afraid to grab it, not because of the plant’s spines, but because I think I know who left this here.

  But what exactly does a cactus mean? Good? Bad?

  Get bent, Penny. What if I wounded Barry’s ego so badly that he sent this to me as a huge screw you? What if this whole thing could be an elaborate pissed-off-Barry middle finger to me? Is he lashing out?

  Would he really do that?

  I steel myself and reach for the note, then open it, holding my breath. The first thing I see is a red heart, and heat constricts my throat. Then the rest of the words blur in front of my eyes as the tears come.

  The cactus in your life is sorry for everything. He loves you and wants you to take him inside. If you feel the same way about him, just let the prick know so he can explain to you why he let all his needles out. If you’d rather leave this particular succulent behind, you’re still free to stay at FCT. If you don’t want to, you’re guaranteed a good job reference, and yes, a good reference matters, even one from a cactus. It’s all up to you, Penny. It always will be.

  The word loves throbs in my sight, right along with the heart. I can’t imagine how much it took for Barry to write that one little but oh-so-everything word. It looks like he — probably the most cynical man in existence — wasn’t even embarrassed to make that silly drawing.

  Love. He loves me?

  I heave out a sob that’s been packed so far back inside me that letting it out makes me feel like I’m coming apart. But I’m absolutely together, because the last part of his note, where he said everything is up to me and it always will be … that’s the kicker. No matter what I do, his feelings for me aren’t going to change. He’s my cactus, my asshole, my unexpected good-news guy.

  And I never knew that I’d been waiting for him.

  With my fingers shaking, I text him. I need your help with something. There’s this massive cactus right outside my door, and I can’t let it in all by myself. Do you have a minute to help me out?

  Nerves tumble through me as I barge into my apartment, already wiping my face in case there’s mascara all over it. I shuck off my winter coat and go to the kitchen sink to splash cold water on my skin, and when I hear the knock on my door, I run to it, throwing it open.

  There he is, his dark hair ruffled as if he’s been running his fingers through it. Judging by the speed with which he got here, he’s been waiting for me to get home and find a piece of his heart on my doorstep. His hands are fisted at his sides as he looks at me with those deep blue eyes, and I can see everything there. I can even see myself, a reflection of the emotions that are beating their way out of me.

  “You must’ve been close by,” I whisper.

  “I was never far, Penny.”

  No, he wasn’t. From the second I met him, he was always right there, in front of my face. And now he’s here.

  When I reach out to latch my fingers onto his coat, it’s not so I can yank him into my apartment for a night of hot sex. As I slowly pull him inside, I swallow past the tightness in my throat. It aches with what I’m feeling for him, just like the rest of me.

  “Penny,” he says quietly once he gets inside, and it’s like he’s hearing the name in a different way now. Like I’m his Penny. And I am — fully, thoroughly, forever-ly.

  He shuts the door behind him, then cups my face in his hands. My heart trembles as the moment suspends between us. I’ve really been waiting for this, and as he bends down to me, pressing his lips against mine so softly that it hurts, I start to shake deep inside. I can’t catch my breath as the kiss makes my head spin and I cling to him just in case my wobbly legs give out and I fall. Then again, I already have fallen, haven’t I? Fallen hard and completely.

  As he sips at me, he eases his hand down my arm and then my waist. He slides his other hand to the back of my head. I part my lips for him, deepening the kiss as he turns me to liquid. I’m melting into him, and the shaking in my belly intensifies, blossoming out in a sighing hum over my skin, under it, everywhere.

  I’m his, he’s mine, and nothing’s ever going to change that.

  Heat washes through me as he pauses, then breathes against my mouth, pressing his forehead against mine while keeping a hold of me. We’re both breathing unevenly, and I can almost feel the jitter of his heartbeat in my own chest. He runs his fingertips over my cheek like he can’t believe he’s here, feeling my skin, knowing that the grip I have on his coat means I’m never letting go.

  “The minute I met you, I knew,” he says. “I didn’t want to admit it, but with every day that passed by, I couldn’t ignore what I was feeling. And that first night …” He smooths the hair back from my face, and I shiver, remembering how he tucked my hair back when we got together after my going away party. He doesn’t have to say anything else, because that gesture means everything — he always felt something. And he was always a good guy, somewhere deep down.

  “That first night,” I say, “there was something different for me, too. I don’t think either of us knew how to handle that. Not until we almost messed everything up beyond recognition.”

  “That’s not going to happen anymore, Penny,” he says.

  “Not, it’s not.”

  Then he’s kissing me again, and I get lost in the soft, insistent pressure of his lips, the dizzy sensation of his fingers in my hair, the breathless feeling of his body against mine. I’m so gone. I’m where I al
ways should’ve been, a part of him: BarryPenny. Barenny. Parry. Both of us together, a collision of two stubborn people who were always meant for each other.

  When I can’t breathe any more, I wrap my arms around his waist and lean my head on his chest. He encloses me in his arms so I’m crushed against him. I look up, not only turned on, but turned inside out.

  So this is what happiness feels like.

  “Zach knows I’m in love with you,” he says.

  There’s that magic word again — love — and every cell in my body contracts, then beats in a series of mini-explosions. I grip him tighter. “That only seems fair since Mandy knows I’m in love with you. Obviously, neither of us can keep our mouths shut.”

  “Or keep our hands off each other.”

  We both laugh, then it fades into another long look.

  “My God,” I say. “We’re in love. Cherry Valley is about to flip at the impossibility of you and me.”

  “Or the improbability. I suspect most people here saw what was happening before we did.”

  “Do you think everyone at the office knew?” Ugh. The office. “Barry, maybe I should get a different job. I don’t want things to be awkward with the others, even if we sign the proper paperwork for employees who’re in a relationship.”

  Barry tucks my hair back again. “If you want to stay, we’ll make it happen. Or I could just help you do something better.” I feel my eyes light up, but when he smiles, the rest of me is positively illuminated. “I’m always up for a new challenge, so what do you think about building that online business of yours?”

  I …. Seriously?

  Laughing, I hug him to me again. This can’t be real. There’s not even a prickle left on Barry, unless you count the way he’s making me prickle in all my delicate spots.

  “I suppose that’s a yes,” he says.

  “Yes!” I keep hugging him. I’m never going to stop. “Just wait until I tell Mandy … and my parents.”

  “Parents.” For the first time today, Barry sounds skeptical. But my parents aren’t his own mom and dad. And, as far as I go, my parents might have a hard time believing that I’m about to settle down, but once they meet the new Barry, they’re going to love him, too.

  “Don’t worry,” I say. “They already know you’re changing the world with Zach one app at a time. I’ll only remind them. They’ll see what I see in you, and they’ll believe in you as much as I do.”

  I pull back from him only far enough to look up into his eyes, and there’s a world of emotion there. Someone besides Zach believes in him now, and in spite of how many times Barry has said in the past that he doesn’t give a shit about much, he obviously does about this.

  I’m holding onto his coat again, and as it parts, I finally notice that he’s wearing a t-shirt without a graphic, as if he came here without announcing how edgy he is. He’s left this space wide open for any message I want to leave, so I draw a heart on him with my finger. He grips my wrist, his gaze intensifying. Suddenly, he reaches over to the dining room chair, pulls it out, and in one hot, smooth move, sits down and draws me onto his lap. Breathless, I wrap my arms around his neck as he keeps looking into my eyes.

  “Kiss me, you fool,” I whisper, and he does. We kiss and fall that much farther into one another, making up for all the lost kisses we missed because we were so busy speeding toward a bed.

  Yeah, kisses will definitely do — as slow and easy as a sunny Cherry Valley day.

  The ABCs of Love

  According to Abigail Peters

  Maybe you know my other blog, the one in which I promised that I was going to keep Cherry Valley’s warm heart beating. I aim to do that right here! Tune in to take the romantic pulse of the biggest-hearted small town in the USA …

  Tell-the-Tale Tuesday

  It wasn’t all that long ago when I announced the arrival of Hana Sushi in town. By now, most of you have discovered that their rolls do indeed make you breathless. And that’s even truer for the most recent couple to cave in and fall hard for each other in Cherry Valley!

  Here are the ingredients for our latest CV romance: take one eligible, stubborn bachelor who co-owns Full Circle Technologies and combine him with a wild, wanderlusty bachelorette who almost abandoned us for the big city. Maybe we’ll call this a Barenny roll. Or does Parry sound even more appetizing?

  Either way, love is on the menu for Barry Aaronson and Penny Burnett, and sushi is what got them there. That’s right — Barenny bonded over Hana’s unagi and salmon roe, the delectable sea treats they both adore, and now they’re inseparable, breathless, and bound for a lifetime together.

  Needless to say, Barry is with Penny all the way as she starts a new online business buying and selling antiques and collectibles. And wouldn’t you know it — the happy couple is planning a trip abroad, which will be Penny’s first time leaving the country!

  Now if only we could find special someones for more of the singletons who’ve developed a taste for Hana. Emi cuts quite a roll behind the counter. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could find a great guy who appreciates her food? And I hear that Grace and Gwen Milton broke down, snuck into the sushi place, and indulged in some tempura-coated vegetables instead of their beer-battered diner grub. Which one is going to find her match first?

  As I always say, Cherry Valley is growing week by week and heartbeat by heartbeat. Comment below to share some of the romance you’re hearing about!

  In the meantime …

  Cherry Hearts and Hugs,

  Abby

  Climax

  A Sneak Peek at Book 3 of the ABCs of Love

  Chapter 1

  Gwen

  “Order up for table twelve!” my mom yells from the kitchen window here in Milton’s Diner.

  I can barely hear her voice over a Tim McGraw song on the jukebox and the clamor of Friday-night dinnertime voices. The aroma of fried animal parts hangs in the air just as surely as all the antlers and horns that serve as light fixtures and decorations around this fantastically redneck place.

  When no one goes to the kitchen window to pick up the order, I exhale, blowing aside a long, blonde strand of hair that’s wiggled out of my barrette. I don’t even have the energy to peer around as I ring up another trucker at the register. “Table twelve!” I repeat loudly, hoping my twin sister Grace will hear me since she’s the only server on the floor tonight because we’re so shorthanded.

  “Twelve!” Mom shouts, totally frazzled.

  I give the trucker his change, plus a distracted attempt at a smiley thank you. Then, before he can say something exhausting to me like Looks like you’re having a rough night, Cupcake, I glance around the diner for Grace.

  In one corner we’ve got more truckers near the jukebox, drinking beer and laughing it up in their baseball hats and flannel. At the counter we’ve got a string of kids from the high school on dates, shooting off their hormones at each other like heat-ray beams from The War of the Worlds or whatever the everlovin’ hell you please. In the other corner, a bunch of nerds from Full Circle Technologies is hazing a new batch of employees by urging them through the Sick Balls Mile menu; to the sound of raucous cheers, the victims are scarfing down squirrel, cattle testicles, and just about every other part of a critter you can imagine dipped in beer batter and fried until you’ve got a heart attack in the making.

  I quickly ring up a couple of tourists who are still giddy from a day of wine tasting, then I look around for Grace again and …. Well, call off the dogs — there’s my sister in yet another corner by the windows that overlook the truck-choked parking lot. And, huge shocker, she’s yucking it up with a couple of guys. She’s even flipping back her hair and laughing as if it’s a lazy Sunday and Mom and I aren’t losing our minds trying to keep this place going.

  After I politely thank the tourists for their business, I almost yell at Grace to get her bubble butt to work, but then I get a better look at the guys she’s with … or at least one of them. He’s been in here before, and I recognize
the dark hair that carelessly curls up at the ends, the tattoos blading up his muscular arms and disappearing into the sleeves of his white tee, the broad shoulders and killer smile. I take a moment to sigh deep inside, because he is so my type. That is, if I had a type and had enough time for that crazy little thing called dating. Which I don’t — at least not regularly.

  Nope, I don’t have the time because Milton’s is my life and it’s always been my most significant relationship. Hell, even though there’s been a slight outbreak in romance lately in Cherry Valley with my friends — Mandy Burnett is getting married and her sister Penny was hit right in the ass by Cupid’s arrow, too — that doesn’t mean it’s going to happen for me. Not with my family history.

  Grace can have Mr. Tatts, and on her own time.

  I hear my mom’s harried voice from the kitchen again. “Table twelve!”

  Dammit, it sounds like she’s about to tear out her hair, and before she does, I take advantage of the lull at the register and hope that no one at the counter needs anything, then dart to the window and grab the two plates of what we like to call “Balls Out Barbecue,” AKA ostrich gonads slathered in a piquant sauce. Delicious.

  I move to the table where Grace is holding court while doing my best not to look at the hottie with the muscles. Using my aproned hip, I nudge Grace aside and then slip the plates onto the table.

  “Two balls out,” I say.

  After a moment of shock, the other guy at the table — rosy tan skin, spiked black hair, big brown eyes — gives Tatts a scathing look. “What the fuck did you order for me while I was in the head?”