Imperfect Penelope (Wild Crush)

by Sami Lee

  He’d offered her Weet-Bix, for Christ’s sake. She’d taken him to heaven, and he’d suggested breakfast cereal in return.

  “I am goal-oriented,” he told the doctor, trying to concentrate on the consultation. But his words only reminded him of that moment in the car. I’m goal-oriented, and my goal is to make you come so many times you can’t remember how to use your legs. His mind wandered back to how enthusiastically Penny had responded to his rather relentless ministrations, how breathily she’d cried out as she came, over and over. His pulse thrummed a rapid beat, and Greg figured it was lucky the pressure cuff was off.

  He rolled down his sleeve and nodded dutifully as Dr. Stevens cautioned him not to return to old habits. After he thanked her and left, he strode out into the late-afternoon light, the doctor’s warnings still ringing in his head. Overworking wasn’t the only bad habit he was prone to, not these days. Lately, kicking himself over how he’d left things with Penny had become a ritual, like picking at a newly forming scab.

  What else could he have done? he asked himself for the umpteenth time since Monday morning. He’d realized sometime during that passionate night what he had been too blind to see before. Penny was something special, too special for sex that didn’t lead anywhere. She deserved more. She was also more vulnerable than she appeared, and the thought of hurting her, even unintentionally…it made his gut twist. He’d wanted to fall back in bed with her that morning, his appointments be damned. He’d longed to make love to her—really make love to her and not merely take her like a horny buck in rutting season. He’d needed it so bad it had taken all of his willpower not to touch her, for he knew if he even brushed a hand over her cheek he wouldn’t be able to help himself.

  He must have looked like he was made of stone from how hard he’d had to work to keep his instincts in check. Something he’d only managed to do up until that moment at her door when he’d given in and kissed her…before she’d said goodbye and left him standing there. And he’d gone because he couldn’t offer her what she needed. He couldn’t offer her love because it had slapped him down too hard once and he was a quick learner. He wasn’t stupid enough to trust that feeling again.

  Or any feeling, for that matter.

  He supposed isolating himself had become a habit too. One he had no clue how to break, should he even want to.

  “G’day, Greg.”

  Greg glanced at the man who’d greeted him. A client for whom he’d drafted a complicated will. “Good to see you, Jack.”

  “Great day for it, isn’t it?” Jack said, glancing up at the cloudless sky.

  “Sure is,” Greg agreed, although he didn’t know what “it” was. The expression was one people used in Leyton’s Headland, because it always seemed to be a great day to do anything. What “it” was didn’t matter.

  They spoke for a moment about the weather, then Jack signed off with a jaunty “Have a good one.”

  Greg walked another block down the main street and was greeted by two more people. The woman who ran the grocery store and the girl from the Beach Break Café, who remarked that he hadn’t been in for his usual double espresso in a while. Greg found himself actually telling her he was cutting back on caffeine, although it was none of her business.

  He remembered walking down the streets of Sydney not long ago, striding like a man possessed by the urgent need to get somewhere. Another appointment, a lunch meeting. Today he was ambling along, chatting to people.

  Was he becoming a local? It wasn’t something he’d specifically aspired to. When he’d first started his law practice, Charlotte had told him bluntly he’d have trouble bringing in business because he was an outsider, and in truth those first few months had been slow. These days he had more clients than he needed—so many he’d overworked himself into a state of high blood pressure—and people were stopping him in the street to say hello.

  He hadn’t cared when Charlotte called him an outsider. At the time he’d had no interest in communicating with anyone beyond the requirements of his job as their lawyer. The more people left him alone, the better. Yet now the thought that he might actually be accepted by this close-knit community filled him with an unexpected warmth.

  “Greg, hi!”

  Greg was jolted from his ruminations by the enthusiastic greeting. He smiled when he saw who had come out of the Beach Break Café to fall into step beside him. “Hello, Summer.” He looked her up and down and shook his head. “I swear you get more beautiful every time I see you.”

  Summer scoffed and glanced down at her rapidly swelling stomach. “I get bigger every day.”

  “You’re glowing,” Greg corrected as he took one of the two takeaway cups Summer was carrying to help her out. It was herbal tea if he didn’t miss his guess. No doubt for Penny.

  His heart skipped a beat.

  Summer beamed at his compliment. “I do feel great. Moving into that third trimester is a relief. I finally feel like everything will be all right.”

  “I’m sure it will be,” Greg agreed. “But shouldn’t you be on your honeymoon?”

  “Ty and I only had two nights in Byron. He had to fly out to California for a pro event yesterday. I decided to come to work today.” Her expression grew wistful. “I miss him less when I’m busy.”

  Greg smiled wryly. “Tell me again why we didn’t ever go on more than one date.”

  Summer pretended to think about it, although they both knew she’d been too in love with Ty to even think about anyone else. Eventually she said, “We had zero chemistry. Like seriously, none.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Not that you’re not cute. You just didn’t do it for me.”

  “Stop,” Greg said. “You’ll make me blush.”

  Summer laughed and hit him playfully on the arm. “You don’t blush.”

  Yes I do. His face felt hot as he realized they were only three feet away from Summer’s Retreat. His tie grew tight around his throat, and when he spoke his voice sounded strained to his ears. “It was great seeing you.”

  Greg tried to hand Summer the second mug, but she demurred. “Oh, would you mind bringing that in? I have trouble fitting through the door as it is.”

  Greg seriously doubted that. Summer might be seven months pregnant but she was one of those petite women who didn’t even look it from behind. Still, Greg did as she asked. He held the door open for her. It would have been ungentlemanly not to.

  That’s how he found himself inside the clinic, eyes locked with Penny as she emerged from the back room with a client. Her steps faltered and she stopped walking, and talking, to stare at him. They stood in a frozen tableau—he and Penny, her client and Summer—for numerous wild beats of Greg’s heart. At last it was Summer who broke the stillness.

  “Penny, I’ll take care of this. Greg has your tea. It was half an hour of reflexology, right, Mr. Patrick?”

  While Summer ushered the client over to the register, Penny walked towards Greg. Her reluctance was palpable, and it made Greg’s stomach hurt. Perhaps he was getting an ulcer now.

  Or maybe it simply killed him to know she wasn’t happy to see him.

  “Thanks for the tea,” Penny said as she held her hand out for it. Greg passed it over, his fingers brushing over hers as they made the transfer. It was pathetic how much he wanted that touch to linger, when Penny seemed in an all-fire hurry to pull away.

  “I only carried it,” Greg said, his voice sounding thick. “I ran into Summer outside. She came back to work quickly.”

  “Yeah. Ty says they did things ass-about, going on the long honeymoon first, getting knocked up and then getting married.” A smile toyed with her lips. “But they seem happy.”

  “They do, and I’m glad. Summer deserves someone who loves her the way Ty does.”

  “Everybody does.”

  Her smile disappeared, and her brow furrowed as she focused intently
on sipping her tea. That sick feeling roiled once more in Greg’s stomach. She deserves real love too. She deserves someone who’s brave and undamaged. He had to get out of here, because he wasn’t that person and yet he wanted her. He wanted to hold her and kiss her and seduce her back to bed, where she’d made everything feel right. Where he’d felt whole for the first time in a long, long time. He wanted that feeling back so bad he could taste it.

  His sensible self would leave. He had to stop torturing himself. But his sensibility seemed to have deserted him lately. He told her, “I just came back from the doctor. My blood pressure’s down.”

  “It is?” Her entire face transformed as she smiled fully for the first time since he’d walked in. “Greg, that’s fantastic. I’m happy for you.”

  She set her tea down on a nearby table and touched his arm, an impulsive move that singed him through his suit jacket and filled him with heat. His heart galloped and it felt odd, his heart running like that, as though it was all in one piece and as healthy as the rest of him. Yet it felt good too, to know she meant it. Penny was genuinely glad his health had improved, which must mean she cared about him. Maybe only in the way she cared about everyone, but she cared. Penny Irving gave a crap about him and it made Greg feel…

  Important.

  Had he ever been important to anyone? Certainly not to his father, who’d left his family without a backward glance. Not to his mother, whose love came only under the condition that he salve her moments of loneliness between men. Not to his brother, who he’d recently discovered saw him only as a walking ATM. He’d thought he was vital to Rochelle, the way she’d felt vital to him, but in the end she’d run from him and started a new life.

  What would it be like if someone as passionate and sweet as Penny actually needed him? If he could admit that he needed her?

  He was already halfway there, Greg realized with a start. He did need her. He needed her to make him better. He could be better—a better person, a better man—and if he made the necessary improvements to himself as a whole, just as he’d improved his health, maybe Penny would…maybe she’d want to be with him. Maybe he’d deserve to be with her. Maybe she’d always smile when she saw him instead of frowning.

  Like she was now. “Greg? Are you okay?”

  Greg saw the furrow of her brow and had an impulsive urge to get rid of it. So he did. He reached right out and touched his thumb to those lines and stroked them until they disappeared. Granted, they vanished more from shock than elation, but some reaction other than stilted conversation was an upgrade.

  Suddenly Greg felt like his whole life was one big upgrade in the making. It was exhilarating.

  “Why wouldn’t I be okay?” he asked, grinning.

  “Because you’re smiling.”

  “Is that unusual?”

  “Kinda. Yeah.”

  Greg shrugged. “I suppose I’m smiling because I like it here.”

  Penny glanced around the reception area. “At Summer’s Retreat?”

  “In Leyton’s Headland. I think I only just realized how much I like it.”

  He was staying too. He’d told his mother the very thing a week ago, but it had only now sunk in. On some level, he’d always had one foot out the door, ready to leave when the monotony of small-town life grew tiresome. He could have gone back to Sydney when he’d finished nursing his wounds from the humiliation and disappointment of the Rochelle thing. Or moved somewhere else if he decided he’d never get over that.

  But he was going to stay in Leyton’s Headland. Small-town life wasn’t monotonous, it was quirky and interesting. The people were friendly, the scenery was great and the fresh air was obviously good for him. He was healthy, because he was breathing in life every day and finally starting to learn how to relax.

  And of course, there was Penny.

  “O-kay,” Penny said, still looking at him strangely. “I’m glad you like it here.”

  “Have dinner with me.” Another spontaneous move. Spontaneity must be addictive. “To celebrate. We can go to that vegetarian place you like.”

  “What place?”

  “Zebs.” Greg pointed across the road. “You get your lunch there most days.”

  She was staring at him as though he’d lost his mind. He’d certainly lost something, like maybe his sense of caution, or his inhibitions, because he couldn’t bring himself to care how much he’d revealed with his comment.

  “Ah…I bought groceries. I was going to make a Pad Thai at home.”

  “Even better. I’ll bring wine.”

  She gaped. She shifted her weight from her right foot to her left. She crossed her arms over her chest, then uncrossed them and planted them on her hips.

  Greg thought her stupefaction was adorable.

  “Greg, I figured we decided—”

  He silenced her protest with one finger placed softly upon her lips. “Penny. It’s dinner. Don’t overthink it.”

  He would have laughed if he wasn’t distracted by the feel of her plush mouth beneath his touch. He, Greg Danvers, was telling the free-spirited Penelope Irving not to overthink things. It was quite the turnaround.

  “I finish work at six,” he said. “Does that suit you?”

  “I…um. Yes,” she breathed. “I guess.”

  It wasn’t exactly an emphatic acceptance but Greg would take it. “Good. I’ll see you then.”

  He left without another word because if he remained that close to her, touching her, for much longer, he was going to kiss her right where she stood. And it wasn’t the time. He’d have to work up to that, gain her trust back after he’d been less than stellar in dealing with his own feelings.

  His feelings for Penny. He had feelings. After many months of nothingness, it felt good to know he was still alive enough to have them.

  Chapter Eleven

  Penny could not decide whether to get changed.

  Greg had said he was coming by after work—she could hardly believe she’d let him invite himself over for dinner like that—and she figured he’d still be in his office clothes when he came. Hot damn, he’d looked fine in that suit today, Penny reflected as she stared unseeingly at the choices in her wardrobe. So well put together and handsome. When he’d touched her lips, it had been all she could do not to draw his finger into her mouth and suck on it like a lollipop.

  That was why she’d ended up agreeing to dinner. She had to say something to appease him and get him out of there before she embarrassed herself. She’d never gone for suit-wearing types before. Why she found Greg so damned sexy in tailored charcoal gray and a red silk tie was beyond her. Perhaps it was because she knew what he had going on underneath those civilized layers.

  Whatever it was, he flustered the hell out of her, made her ache for things she’d told herself to stop thinking about. Not that giving herself that lecture had worked. She’d thought about him constantly since that night—his hands on her body, his talented mouth kissing her into submission, his thick, long cock sliding into her…

  She’d never masturbated as much as she had in the last three days.

  So, Greg the sexy lawyer she had trouble controlling herself around was coming over for dinner. She ought to act like it was nothing and stay in her work uniform, but she looked anything but sexy in the practical black trousers and loose green blouse with the Summer’s Retreat logo on it. She didn’t want it to seem like she was trying to impress him, but she didn’t want to dress like a frump either.

  “Screw it,” she told her wardrobe, and grabbed a pair of yoga pants and a matching black tank top from the drawer. She’d change but into something casual. That way he’d never think she’d gone to any trouble on his account.

  She tried her hair several different ways, before deciding to put it back into the short ponytail she wore to work so he wouldn’t think she’d fussed over that either. Adding a little lip gloss wouldn�
��t look like an attempt to impress. Everyone wore lip gloss. Other than that she added no makeup. She didn’t wear it to work and she wasn’t wearing it tonight.

  Penny immediately wished she’d put on some smoky black eye shadow when a knock sounded on her door at six oh one. The man was disturbingly punctual. Didn’t he know a girl always needed an extra fifteen minutes of pretending not to fuss over herself before a date?

  This isn’t a date.

  “Come in, it’s not locked,” she called out, affecting a casual tone of voice that didn’t reflect the riot of panic going on inside her. Hastily, she picked up Maleficent so she’d look like she was doing something when Greg walked in. The Siamese reared her head back, hissed and leapt out of Penny’s arms. She must have sensed her anxiety.

  Or she was a total bitch.

  “I’m beginning to take her distaste for me less personally,” Greg said as he watched the cat sprint past him and into the second bedroom. Penny used it as a craft room. Maleficent used it as a hideout.

  “I told you, she’s an equal-opportunity cat. Hates everybody.”

  Penny had no idea how she managed to sound glib when her heart was hammering so hard it was like Thor was wielding it. Greg was standing there in that sexy-as-hell suit, holding a bottle of wine and a bunch of flowers.

  The son-of-a-bitch had brought flowers. How was she supposed to keep reminding herself this wasn’t a date, or the start of anything romantic and exciting, if the man brought her flowers? Pretty ones too. All the colors of the rainbow, which was exactly how Penny liked her flowers.

  He didn’t move forward to give them to her, instead standing stock-still as he drank her in with his gaze. That was how it seemed to Penny, like she was a tall glass of water and he was very, very thirsty. Her flesh tingled under his perusal, and self-consciousness made her glance down at her black tights and tank top. They were covered in white fur from when she’d picked up the cat. That was taking the casual look way too far, she thought wryly as she quickly brushed the fur off.