1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Nine

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  She looks adorable, fashionable, and sexy, and it’s all I can do not to drag her back into the house and have her one last time before we engage the enemy.

  Instead, I reach out to squeeze her ass as we walk toward the car and promise, “As soon as we get back, I’m going to push this skirt up around your waist and have you against the nearest wall.”

  “Is that right?” she asks, a smile curving her red lips. “Are you going to take my panties off this time?”

  “Maybe.” I consider the stunning view of her cleavage provided by the low, but not too low, neckline of her dress. “Maybe not. It depends on how badly I need to fuck you. You look incredible. Prepare to have every pair of eyes at that party glued to you when you walk by.” I open the passenger door for her and wait for her to slide inside.

  She pauses, gazing up at me in the bright midday sun. “That’s not going to happen with my mother anywhere in the vicinity, but that’s okay.” With a coy tilt of her head, she reaches out to twine her fingers through mine, making my heart squeeze in my chest. “I don’t need every pair of eyes, baby. I just need yours.”

  “Damn.” I shake my head, laughing as I realize what she’s done. “That was good. For a second there, I forgot you were pretending.”

  She makes a fist and pumps it in the air. “And the student becomes the master.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far, buttercup,” I say dryly, nodding toward the car. “Now sit your pretty ass down. The sooner we get to the luncheon, the sooner we’ll be back here celebrating your victory.”

  “Naked,” she adds with a grin.

  “As naked as the day you were born,” I say, smiling my approval. The student might not have become the master, but she’s definitely on her way.

  Fifteen minutes later, we’re pulling through the gates of the South Side Yacht Club and following wooden arrows with the words “Pickett and Davies” painted on them down toward the marina.

  There, at the end of the road, on the wide lawn rolling down toward the water, we discover a lavish spread. Two white tents, with flaps fluttering in the breeze, flank six long banquet tables decorated with white tablecloths, navy runners, and accented with yellow flower arrangements. Beyond the elegant dining area are several Maypoles strung with ribbons where children are already running back and forth getting tangled in the yellow silks, an elaborate dessert table piled with cakes and cookies featuring a champagne fountain, and archways covered in yellow flowers.

  I spot Phillip and Penny’s mother, a tall, striking blonde, who does look amazingly young for her age, and steer Penny away from the small crowd gathered outside the bar tent, clutching martini glasses filled with vibrantly yellow liquid. During our preparation, Penny said that she would normally go to greet her sisters first and today is all about showing that Penny is still the same person she’s always been, with one very important exception—she’s crazy about me and doesn’t care who knows it.

  “Of course, the drinks match the party’s color scheme,” she mutters beneath her breath. “I shouldn’t be surprised. I wonder if anyone will have the guts to tell her those martinis are the color of radioactive urine.”

  “Remember, only happy thoughts, sweet pea.” I wrap my arm around her waist, holding her close as we make our way past the tables toward the Maypoles. “We can discuss the urine-colored martinis at a later date.”

  “Right. Thanks for the reminder, Doodle Cakes.”

  I smile. “No problem, Honey Bear.”

  “You’re the best, Snuggle Butt.”

  I snort. “I like that one.”

  “I like your butt. I like it so much I might snuggle it later,” she says, hand slipping down to pat my ass through my pants.

  Before I can return the favor, high-pitched voices squeal, “Penny!” and a moment later, two small, but solid missiles connect with Penny’s midsection, propelling her out of my arms.

  “Hey, you guys!” Penny laughs as she wraps her arms around the little girls who have latched onto her waist like barnacles. “I’ve missed you!”

  “Us too, the weekends are so boring without a trip to Brooklyn,” the slightly taller, dark-haired little girl says, pulling back to gaze adoringly into Penny’s face. “You look so pretty, sissy.”

  “I love your dress.” The blond sister—clearly they’re not identical twins—runs a reverent hand down the fabric of Penny’s skirt. “You should wear it all the time.”

  “Well, maybe not all the time, but thank you. Both of you.” Penny hugs them tightly again before lifting her gaze to me with a smile. “Now there’s someone I want you to meet. This is Bash, my boss who I’ve told you so much about.” She glances down at the blonde. “Bash, meet Edna.” She tucks a brown curl behind the taller girl’s ear, revealing a face remarkably like her mother’s. “And Francis.”

  “Hello,” the girls say in stereo, surveying me with unconcealed curiosity. Penny and I agreed not to draw the kids into the false relationship drama if we can help it, but I can’t resist saying—

  “It’s so good to meet you two. Penny is one of my favorite people. You got lucky in the big sister department.”

  The twins’ smiles make me glad I spoke up. They clearly love Penny and, therefore, love to hear that other people appreciate their big sister’s many fine qualities.

  “Penny is the best big sister,” Edna agrees.

  Francis wrinkles her nose. “She’s our only big sister.”

  “But even is she wasn’t, she’d still be the best,” Edna insists. “She lets us sleep in our blanket fort when we go to her house and have ice cream for breakfast on Sundays.”

  “Yeah, and if Anastasia finds out I’m feeding you anything but organic, gluten-free, non-dairy rabbit food she’ll have my head on a spike,” Penny says, pinning both girls with a pointed look. “So let’s keep a lid on all that when Mom is around.”

  “Keep a lid on what when Mom is around?” a musical voice from behind us asks. A second later, the twins bolt, taking off across the lawn like they’re fleeing the wrath of Zeus.

  Penny’s face scrunches and she mouths a curse word, but by the time she spins around she’s smiling again. “Hi, Mom. So good to see you!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Bracing myself for battle, I turn to meet the electric blue gaze of Anastasia Pickett, movie star, former model, and nominee for Shittiest Mother of the Year. Calling upon my reserves of self-control, I resist the urge to glare daggers at her on Penny’s behalf.

  But it’s hard, especially when the woman’s eyes sweep from my head to my toes and back again in a way that makes it clear she’s mentally undressing me, finding me fuckable, and wondering what the hell I’m doing with her daughter.

  It’s a lot to convey with a look, but the woman is an actress and an accomplished one at that.

  She’s so good that I almost believe her when she pulls Penny in for a hug and says, “It’s good to see you, too, sweetheart. I’m so glad to finally have you home for a visit.” Her gaze shifts back to me, the laughter in her eyes inviting me to share in a private joke. “And this must be your friend. Phillip enjoyed meeting you yesterday, Sebastian.”

  “Call me Bash, please. And did he? I’m glad,” I observe coolly, not interested in her joke, especially since Penny seems to be the butt of it. I’ve only known this woman for a few seconds and I can already see why Penny has no idea how stunning she truly is. With a mother like this, it’s a wonder her self-esteem isn’t completely in the shitter. “I’m afraid I can’t remember much about our chat. Penny had a migraine. I was so worried about her I wasn’t paying much attention to anything else.”

  “Really?” Anastasia raises a brow. “That sounds serious, Penny. Do you need to see Dr. Green while you’re home?”

  “No, I’m fine now.” She pulls away from her mother and moves into my arms, gazing up at me affectionately. “I think it was just a pinched nerve from sleeping in a weird position on the train. Bash worries too much.”

  “I do not, I worry
just enough.” I lean down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “That’s what you do where precious things are concerned.”

  “Cheeser,” Penny accuses, making me grin.

  “Guilty,” I say. “Love makes me cheesy. I can’t help it.”

  “That’s okay. I like you cheesy. Just don’t let the girls hear you or they’ll tease you until you beg for mercy.”

  “I can handle eight-year-old teasing. I’m a grown-up.”

  “That you are. One of the many things I love about you.” Penny sighs happily, her eyes sparkling with the perfect degree of lovesickness. So far she’s knocking this out of the park. All that’s left to do is to get her in front of Phillip without our act falling to pieces and we’ll be back on track to victory.

  “How sweet,” Anastasia coos. “You two are adorable.”

  Penny blushes. “Thanks, Mom. It’s nice to finally introduce you and Bash. He’s been a big part of my life for a while now.”

  “Clearly. I’m so happy for you both. But especially you, baby. You deserve a beautiful man who’s crazy about you.”

  I shift my attention Anastasia’s way to find her beaming at Penny with what looks like genuine happiness. I note the soft smile and love filling her eyes and wonder if maybe I misjudged Anastasia Pickett. Maybe she’s not a monster. Or not purely monstrous, anyway.

  “Would you mind going to grab your sisters?” Anastasia asks. “And tell them they’re not in trouble for whatever you three were whispering about? I want them to enjoy the festivities, not worry they’re going to lose privileges.”

  “Does that mean I can let them steal a cupcake from the dessert table before lunch?” Penny asks. “You know they both hate salmon.”

  Her mother’s mouth puckers as it shifts to the side, making her look just like Penny when she’s reluctantly giving up ground. “Fine. But only one. And don’t let them get icing on their dresses. We haven’t had a chance to do any family photos yet.”

  “Will do.” Penny tips her head back, grinning up at me. “Want me to kill you a cupcake while I’m hunting, handsome?”

  “No, thanks, buttercup. I’m holding out for ice cream.”

  “Of course you are.” She laughs before pushing up on tiptoe for a quick kiss. “Be right back, baby.”

  I watch her go with a smile that’s not purely for her mother’s benefit. The bounce in her step as she crosses the lawn, seeking out her sisters, is cute as hell. And though she’s clearly oblivious to it, heads are turning as she passes by. They probably always have, she has just been too busy playing Ugly Manatee to her mother’s Self-Indulgent Mermaid to notice.

  “I’ll still have the last laugh.” Anastasia shifts to stand beside me, gazing after her daughter. “All the baked goods are organic, vegan, and gluten-free. But I’m not going to tell Penny until she and the girls are finished with their cupcakes.”

  “Diabolical,” I say, playing along, more open to giving this woman a chance than I was before. Nothing can make up for the fact that she’s marrying her daughter’s ex-boyfriend. But love goes a long way, and she does seem to love her daughters, a suspicion she confirms when she says—

  “Just so you know, Penny doesn’t have access to any of my money. She’s sent back every check I’ve mailed for the past two years and insisted on being cut out of my will. I didn’t want to do it, but after the pain I caused her, I felt I had to honor her wishes.”

  I nod slowly, torn between being glad to see Anastasia trying to protect her daughter from a potential gold digger and pissed that she assumes that’s the only way Penny could end up with a devoted partner. “Penny started out working for me as my personal assistant. I’m well aware of her financial situation.”

  “Is that so? And what do you do, Mr. Prince?”

  “Business consulting,” I say, sticking to the lie Penny and I decided upon. “But I used to work on Wall Street where I had a successful career as a corporate scumbag. I won’t be looking for a house in the Hamptons anytime soon, but I’ve done well. I don’t need to date women for their money.”

  “Then I apologize,” she says, inclining her head. “I hope you won’t hold this conversation against me.”

  “You shouldn’t apologize to me. You should apologize to her.” I turn to watch as Penny, Edna, and Francis tiptoe toward the dessert table, pausing to whisper to each other every few steps, clearly having turned the quest for cupcakes into a game. My lips curve even as my chest begins to ache.

  She’s so good with them, and they clearly adore their big sister. It’s pure bullshit that Anastasia threatened to keep them apart if Penny didn’t show up for this farce of a wedding.

  The memory makes my voice cooler as I add, “She’s one of the sweetest, sincerest, funniest people I’ve ever met. But you almost broke her. And that would have been a fucking shame. The world needs people like Penny.”

  Anastasia nods. “I know. And believe it or not, I know my daughter. When we were younger, we were like sisters.” Her voice softens. “Or best friends. I know I leaned on her more than a mother should, but I was a teenager when I got pregnant and I had no support from Penny’s father or my family.”

  She sighs. “I should have been the grown-up, but I wasn’t ready. And no matter what kind of support I needed, Penny was always there, offering help before I could think to ask. Sometimes I think she raised me as much as the other way around. That’s why it’s been so hard, to be shut out of her life for the past few years.”

  I turn to face her. “And what exactly did you expect?”

  She meets my accusing gaze with a level one. “Mistakes were made and the situation was mishandled, but you can’t help who you love, Mr. Prince. Surely you can understand that if you’re as in love with my daughter as you claim to be.”

  Before I can assure her that I am head over heels for Penny, that I would kill for her happiness and die for another chance to be buried balls deep in her incomparable pussy, one of the twins screams, “Help! Help! She can’t breathe! Penny can’t breathe!”

  I spin to see Edna jumping up and down on the grass, pointing at Penny, whose fingers are wrapped around her throat in the universal sign for choking. Francis is behind her, with her tiny arms wrapped around Penny’s waist, but she’s too short to be in the right position for the Heimlich maneuver and Penny’s face is already bright red, hedging toward blue.

  Panic sending my pulse rocketing into overdrive, I sprint across the grass, reaching Penny’s side long before any of the other guests can get close.

  “Move, Francis,” I bark, grateful when the little girl quickly steps away.

  A moment later, I’m behind Penny with my fist positioned just below her diaphragm, shoving sharply in and up with my other hand. Penny’s lips part with a “humph” as the blockage—something small that flashes in the sun as it arches through the air—is expelled onto the grass.

  Startled cries erupt from the crowd that has gathered to observe the drama and one of the other kids attending the party shouts, “Ew, gross!” but I’m too worried about Penny to waste time glaring at the brat.

  She pulls in a ragged breath and sags back against me.

  “Are you okay?” I run a shaking hand up and down her torso, needing to feel her belly rise and fall to prove to myself that she’s breathing. “Penny? Are you all right? Talk to me.”

  “I’m all right.” She turns in my arms, shaking as hard as I am. “But I thought I was going to die, Bash. I really did. I couldn’t breathe.”

  “I know.” My heart is still slamming against my ribs as I cup her face in my hands. “You scared the shit out of me. What happened?”

  She blinks fast. “I don’t know. One second the girls and I were having a cupcake-eating race and the next there was something hard in my throat and I couldn’t get it out. There must have been something inside the cake.”

  “It’s the bride-to-be cupcake.” Edna holds up a soggy-crumb-covered ring between Penny and me. “It means you’re going to be the next person to get married
, Penny! You’re so lucky!”

  Penny casts an incredulous glance at the gaudy ring with the oversized fake diamond. “That’s me, all right. Lucky.” Her eyes return to mine and that’s all it takes to set us off.

  We both burst out laughing, giggling so hard that Penny’s face turns red again and my stomach starts to hurt, but even though we’ve attracted a crowd of curious onlookers, I can’t seem to stop. Every time I think I’m regaining control, I catch her gaze again and I’m off.

  We laugh until there are tears in our eyes and we’re leaning on each other for support to keep from falling to the grass, and by the time we finally get a hold of ourselves, I feel like I’ve run a half marathon.

  “Jesus, that was painful,” I breathe, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’m glad you’re not dead, you crazy person.”

  “Me too.” She smiles up at me. “Thanks for saving my life.”

  “Anytime, buttercup.” I brush a stray lock of hair tenderly from her face, not wanting to think about a world without Penny in it, and then she says—

  “I love you, Bash.”

  —and without thinking of the pretend or the reason I’m here or anything but this woman and how much I need her to keep living and breathing, I say—

  “I love you, too, Penny.”

  And for a second time stops and so does my heart and I wonder if maybe….

  Just maybe…

  Then I see Penny’s eyes flicker to my left.

  I shift my head to catch a glimpse of Phillip’s sun-streaked blond locks fluttering in the wind, and with a pang of displeasure I remember this is all pretend. Pretend for the benefit of a turd burglar, who looks none-too-happy when I pull Penny in for a hug amidst clapping from the assembled guests.

  And then someone at the back of the crowd calls for me to, “Put a ring on it, son!” and Phillip’s cold glare turns arctic.