Private Affairs

by Tori Carrington

  Palmer knocked back a couple of the peanuts and chewed before taking a long pull off the brew. “Why do I get the feeling this meeting isn’t a coincidence?”

  Troy gave him a wry smile that made him look more like the teen Palmer remembered. “Because you didn’t get where you are by being stupid.”

  He chuckled.

  He was aware of Troy’s prior business deal with Philippidis, as well as how the plans fell apart when Troy’s brother ran off with Manolis’s much-younger fiancée. It was part of the reason he’d taken on the job himself. There was no way the Greek was going to work with the Metaxas brothers again, so why not forge ahead with the plans they’d begun? It would bring important jobs to the town and perhaps at some point the company he helped create might even end up with the Metaxases.

  Best of both worlds, the way he saw it.

  He asked Troy, “Is there anything in specific you wanted to talk to me about?”

  “Are you going to make me take back the compliment I just threw your way?”

  “Backhanded and all?” Palmer nodded. “Yes. Because, you see, I also didn’t get where I am by doing the other guy’s job for him.”

  “Point awarded.”

  “And taken.”

  Troy was standing rather than sitting and now propped his right foot on the brass rest. “How worried should I be?”

  Palmer considered him for a long moment. “About what?”

  “About your being in town.”

  He shrugged. “If you’d have asked me yesterday…I’d have said ‘very.’”

  “And today?”

  Palmer frowned into his beer before taking another sip. “Get back to me tomorrow on that one.”

  “I’d heard your foreman was fired.”

  He snorted. “Not by me.”

  “I know.”

  Palmer put his glass down and turned a little more fully in his direction. “Well then it begs the question why you requested this impromptu meeting with me.”

  “I told you, I want to know how much of a threat you are.”

  “To…”

  “To the plans my brother and I have for a company so similar to the one you’re opening as to be hostile.”

  Palmer frowned. “Look…I don’t know everything that went down between you, your brother and Philippidis, Troy—”

  “Maybe you should.”

  “No. Maybe I shouldn’t. I’m not here for personal reasons. I’m here for professional ones.”

  “I’m sure Penelope would like to hear that.”

  Palmer winced.

  “Philippidis has no intention of helping this town,” Troy said. “I don’t know how he plans on using you, but trust me, that’s exactly what he’s doing. And the end result is not going to be pretty.”

  “Why don’t you let me worry about that?”

  Troy narrowed his gaze. “If it were only my ego on the line, I would. I’d gladly go head-to-head with you, let the best man win.”

  “But…”

  “But this isn’t about you and me. And this isn’t a harmless scrimmage or pickup game of tackle football.”

  “Well, then, Troy, why don’t you tell me what it’s about?”

  “Revenge, pure and simple. Philippidis won’t stop until he sees me and my family bankrupt—”

  “I thought this wasn’t about your ego.”

  Troy held up a hand, a tight smile revealing how much of his ego was involved. “Let me finish. He won’t stop until he bankrupts not only my family, but anyone even remotely associated with us. Including this town and everyone in it.”

  Palmer eyed him for a long moment. He’d always known Troy to be an upstanding sort of guy, not given to exaggeration or underhanded moves. Unlike the man Palmer worked for, no matter how much he argued differently.

  Of course, fifteen years had a way of changing a man.

  “Is that it?” Palmer asked.

  “What?”

  “I asked if that was it. Your wanting to know whether or not I am a threat?”

  Troy took his foot off the rest and stood straight. “That’s it.”

  Palmer pulled out a bill from his back pocket that would cover their drinks and his lunch with Penelope and waved it at the owner before putting it on the bar. He stood up next to Troy and held out his hand. The other man took it with a measure of wariness.

  “Then my answer is yes. I am a threat. And I’ll go farther than that to say this is a competition. And while I usually subscribe to the ‘all’s fair in love and business’ line of thought, I’ll promise to keep it fair if you will.”

  Troy looked doubtful. “I can’t talk you out of it? Perhaps offer to bring you on board with us?”

  “Now, that’s not playing fair now, is it?” He grinned. “Good luck to you. May the best man win.”

  “So long as Earnest wins as well, I’m all for it,” Troy said as he walked toward the door.

  9

  PENELOPE FELT LIKE A thousand tiny ants were running just under her skin, making it impossible to sit still, impossible to concentrate, and impossible to be around anyone else. So after an especially animated dinner with her grandmother and aunt—during which the two unconventional women had brainstormed new ideas on how they might go about getting her laid—she’d mumbled about having forgotten to do something at the shop and slipped out of the house.

  Now, an hour later, with the town quiet but for a few people at the pub, she hefted another supply box from the storage room and plopped it down on the front counter, then opened the top to peer inside. Despite the heat, she hadn’t turned on the air conditioner but instead had a fan running, the front and the back doors propped open to catch whatever breeze might blow outside. A thin sheen of sweat coated her skin, adding to her sense of quiet restlessness.

  It wasn’t fair.

  Throughout the past hour, fragmented thoughts had emerged in her mind, taunting her, challenging her.

  She ignored the latest as she had the previous ones, instead counting napkins as she took them out and stored them under the counter, following those with coffee cups and lids.

  She’d spent much of the time so far filling electronic orders for shipping, a pile of which sat by the front door waiting for the postman tomorrow. She’d accomplished more that night than during the entire day. Of course, now she didn’t have customers and friends coming in and out…or a late lunch with Palmer to deal with.

  She finished unpacking the box and listlessly leaned against the top.

  It wasn’t fair, her mind repeated.

  “You can say that again,” she agreed.

  It wasn’t fair that he should look so good when most other men his age had gained weight and lost hair. It wasn’t fair that he exuded a confidence befitting a much younger man.

  It wasn’t fair that he should make her want him even more now than she had back then.

  Talk about being fair. She was blaming him for her physical condition when aside from a brief touch or two, he’d been the perfect gentleman at the pub.

  Last night…

  Well, last night had taken place in the shadows of the gazebo when both their guards had been down. When darkness had buffeted them from the rest of the world and amplified emotions that hadn’t been stirred in much too long.

  She pulled the box off the counter and used the cutters to collapse it, stashing it with others against the wall. Maybe Agatha and Irene were right. She needed to get laid.

  Or, rather, it was long past time that she had an adult relationship in her life that didn’t include her nosy roommates. That satisfied her needs all around, not merely in the bedroom.

  It didn’t help to know there were reasons why she hadn’t had one. Reasons that well beyond pining over a lost high school sweetheart. But that didn’t change the fact that here she was, a thirty-three year old woman, crushing on a man who had long since moved on.

  She looked at the watch on her wrist and sighed, wondering what else she could do to push herself to the point of total exhau
stion. To a spot where Palmer’s grin didn’t intrude on her thoughts every five seconds. When the hunger making it impossible for her to sit still for long periods would stop its incessant growling and allow her to entertain the notion of sleep.

  Her feet carried her to the back room yet again…

  PALMER HADN’T REALIZED how far or for how long he’d been walking until his feet began to protest…and he found himself standing outside Penelope’s shop.

  The front door was propped open, which struck him as unsafe until he realized where he was. While Earnest was not without crime, any lawbreakers inevitably made The World’s Dumbest Criminals list because someone always knew who they were, no matter how well they disguised themselves.

  It was like that in a small town. And fell solidly into the plus category.

  Unfortunately, so far he seemed to be endlessly discovering all the entries in the minus category.

  After his lunch with Penelope, and his tense conversation with Troy Metaxas, he’d returned to the site to field phone calls from the various suppliers with whom he’d contracted. It appeared Manolis Philippidis had been very busy indeed during his time in the trailer this morning.

  He’d finally left at sometime after five to return to a cold dinner at the B and B—no one was around and the covered tray had been left at his door with a note attached—and a night yawning emptily before him.

  So he’d gone for a walk.

  And walked and walked and walked. From the grounds of Earnest High on the east side of town, to the old creek to the west. To the front of his father’s house where he’d stood just after sunset watching through the open curtains as the switching colors of the TV flashed across the face of a man he no longer knew.

  He absently rubbed his chin. What was he talking about? He’d never known his father.

  He’d moved on from there, exchanging hellos with a few of the more friendly residents, and withstanding open stares from the rest. He’d half expected to find the sheriff’s car dogging his steps at some point, and found himself welcoming the idea, if only because it would give him an excuse to focus his thoughts outside rather than within.

  And now he stood in front of Penelope’s shop, longing to go in, yet not daring to.

  When he’d originally received her call earlier in the day, he’d expected she would tell him at lunch to keep his distance. Public places were always the perfect venues for such conversations. But since she hadn’t told him to lay off, and had indicated that perhaps the pub wasn’t the best place to speak her piece, he wondered what it was, exactly, that she had to say.

  Movement caught his eye from inside the shop. He watched as Penelope came out of the back room carrying a box, stepping purposefully in his direction. He thought she’d spotted him and was going to give him what for for standing outside her place like some sort of stalker.

  Instead, she placed the box on a pile of others near the door, presumably ignorant to his presence.

  Damn, but she looked good. Small tendrils had escaped the rubber band that held her long hair at the nape of her neck and lay against her beautiful face, damp and curly.

  His gaze dropped to the V of her dress, finding her skin there shiny. He took in the fact that she had the fan running, waging a losing battle against the still warm temperatures. The back of his shirt was also damp from his walk. He’d been so lost in thought, he hadn’t even registered the heat. But now he was overly aware of it…along with a heat of an entirely different variety.

  Penelope stretched her neck and then went still, as if sensing she wasn’t alone. She stepped to the door and looked to the left and then the right, her gaze colliding with his.

  “Palmer,” she said on a rush of air.

  He took his hands out of his pockets and held them palm up. “I was walking by the place and…”

  The words sounded unconvincing to his own ears, so he stopped.

  She leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms under her breasts, bringing them into relief under her loose-fitting dress. Palmer couldn’t help himself as he took in the plumped-up flesh.

  “The thought of sitting at the B and B alone…” he offered.

  She sighed. “Tell me about it. I couldn’t stay home with those two busybodies.”

  He grinned. “How is your grandmother?”

  She shrugged lightly. “The same.”

  “Meaning…”

  “She’s crazy as ever.”

  He chuckled, remembering several run-ins with the older woman in times gone by. There was one time when she’d caught him in Penelope’s bedroom and chased him out with a broom, running all the way down the block—and half of the next—after him.

  He voiced the thought aloud and Penelope laughed.

  “Yes, well, now she’d be doing the opposite.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “She’d be chasing you into my bedroom with the broom and then would use it to lock you inside.”

  His brows rose. “Really?”

  She nodded.

  “So she’s not the same. She’s crazier than she was back then.”

  Her smile was brighter than the scattering of lights inside the shop.

  “So what are we doing here, then?” he asked.

  “Pardon me?”

  “I’m just saying that I’d enjoy being on the other side of your grandmother’s broom so long as it meant spending uninterrupted time with you.”

  She looked down, her face serious instead of smiling. Not his intention.

  Then she looked up. “No one’s interrupting now…”

  THE CORNER OF A BOX jabbed into Penelope’s shoulder blade, and she nearly tripped over a plastic bottle of glass cleaner as Palmer advanced on her in the cramped confines of the shop’s back room.

  Finally, she found an accommodating spot against an old metal table, her breath rushing from her body as he threaded his fingers through her hair, shaking it out from the loose twist she’d put it in earlier.

  Then he pressed his mouth against hers and it wouldn’t have mattered if she’d been standing on hot coals, or lying on a bed of nails so long as he was kissing her.

  She watched his half-lidded eyes as he tilted his head one way, then the other, taking his time as he reacquainted himself with her lips. She pressed her palms against the expanse of his chest, not to push him away, but to make sure he was really there.

  She was very pleased to find he was.

  Last night he’d caught her off guard. And while she hadn’t expected to find him outside the shop tonight, she was more prepared emotionally…and receptive to the need that suffused her body at the mere sight of him.

  It had been so long. So very, very long since she’d given herself permission to feel a physical connection to another person. While she might have kissed a date, or participated in a bit of tickle and grab, she’d never been one hundred percent present. There had always been something there between her and the other person. Something that prevented her from completely shutting off her mind and giving herself over to the world of pure sensation.

  Now…

  Well, now as Palmer gently cupped her right breast through her dress, her knees nearly gave out from under her, her response was so great.

  She broke off the kiss and restlessly licked her lips before leaning into him again, winding her arms around his body and pulling his hips flush to hers. She was instantly aware of his own arousal as it pressed against her lower belly.

  He groaned, a guttural sound that never quite made it from his mouth as his hands went from her hair to her breasts to her hips as if he didn’t know where to touch her first. He checked for a catch on her bra in the front and then the back and then gave up, returning to caressing her through the fabric, bringing her nipples to stiff, aching peaks.

  She tugged on his shirt, freeing it from his pants and pushing it up and over his head rather than unbuttoning the front. She kissed her way down his jaw to his collar bone, her fingers running along his bare chest and abdomen.
His skin was hot and smooth, his muscles impossibly toned.

  Her knuckles brushed against his stomach as she slid her fingertips inside the front of his pants. His quick intake of breath caused a shiver to travel down her spine and back up again as she clumsily fumbled with his belt.

  He chuckled softly. “You’d think we’d have gotten better at this…”

  He helped her with his pants and she helped him with her sport bra that had no catch for him to pop.

  Finally, they were both naked under the dim, overhead light, their breathing ragged, their bodies on fire as they stared at each other. In Palmer’s eyes, she saw the shadows of years past. In her heart, she felt them.

  He leaned in to kiss her and she surrendered fully. Not just to him. But to her own need.

  10

  PALMER WAS HAVING A hard time dragging a deep enough breath into his lungs. It was more than the muggy night. Just looking at Penelope, completely stripped of her clothes, and of her defenses, did him in.

  Standing before him as she was, her hair a dark tangle around her beautiful face, her belly rounded, her womanhood in shadow, the past meshed so intrinsically with the present that it knocked him back on his heels. She’d been his first. And still held him more in awe than any other woman he’d met.

  He ran his fingertips over her jaw and pressed the pad of his thumb against her plump bottom lip. No lipstick. No gloss. Just one hundred percent Penelope.

  She opened her mouth and took his thumb inside, lightly nipping before closing her lips around the digit and sucking.

  Palmer groaned, his reaction as complete as if she’d been focusing that attention on another area of his anatomy.

  He kissed her hard, filled with a burning need to bury himself inside her. To be surrounded by her. She curved her bare foot around his calf and he smoothed his hand down her hip to her thigh, lifting her to the table. The metal top was cool. He pushed aside a couple of boxes to make room and then gripped her knees, parting them slowly.

  Penelope’s head fell back as she braced herself against her arms and thrust her hips slightly forward, allowing him full access.