But maybe that was better than dying an old maid. Or maybe not.
“Hey, Nick, how was your day?” she practiced. “How was your day? How was your day? How was your day!”
A man popped out from behind a tree, a snow shovel in his hands, and gave her a funny look. She snapped her mouth shut and hurried past. No need to die of awkwardness before she even arrived.
Still, she muttered it under her breath a few more times for good measure.
She stomped the snow off her boots on the porch to the activities center of the Truman Stanley Retirement Community, swung her way in, and headed for the desk. Festive shamrocks danced across the walls and the front of the reception desk, even though Valentine’s Day was barely over. Lena jumped up, as though she’d been waiting to sprint away, and headed straight for the coat closet.
“Oh, thank God you’re here. I was so afraid you wouldn’t make it through the snow.”
“I can walk.” Penny dropped her bag by the door, eager to get the treats set down before she somehow tripped and spilled them everywhere.
“Really? I’ve gotta keep my shifts before yours all winter.” She grinned at Penny and jogged toward the door.
Penny had just begun settling down at her desk when a tall, lanky form in an orange coat came up the front sidewalk, carrying a heap of boxes and bags. Tousled short brown hair peeked out from under his hood, but his face was in shadow. Her pulse quickened.
Lena greeted him as she opened the door. “Oh, hey, Nick!”
“Hey, Lena,” his heavenly voice called.
“How was your day?” Lena tossed off casually.
Fuck. That was her line. What was she going to say now?
She turned to watch their casual conversation, practically vibrating with a mixture of jealous rage and elation. He shrugged. “Could have been better.” He glanced at Penny as pushed his hood back with his free hand and smiled. Fucking water in the desert, that smile. His short beard made it all the better, and eyes not far from the color of her brownies twinkled. He pointed at the rec room. Then he seemed to glance anywhere but at her for a moment.
She sighed and nodded. He wanted to set down his things before signing in. He usually made several trips. He headed back out after Lena, who waited for him to return before leaving. She’d been in a hurry before. And now she stopped to chat with him? Lord knew she called him a dork half the time and acted like he was an awkward social project who needed to get out and exercise more, maybe play some football, and not the most brilliant, adorable, handsome man she had ever—
“Do I smell brownies?”
Bob’s voice cut through her thoughts. “Yes. Want one?”
“Did you make them for us?”
She nodded. Bob was leaning on the reception desk and clutching his notebook and pencil to his pale blue dress shirt. He’d record the details of whatever game they all played in that notebook.
“You’re such a sweetheart. Hey, you should play with us tonight. I bet Nick could handle another player just fine.”
“Oh I think he’d like to handle her all right,” grumbled Ed as he shuffled past. Penny rolled her eyes. Ed was always saying things like that. Classic dirty-old-man shtick, although he was sweet as a caramel underneath.
“I’m supposed to be working, Bob, but that’s nice of you to offer.” She smiled at him.
He waved her off. “Nobody’s coming to visit on a night like tonight. Amazing you two made it here! You both must have been pretty determined to get here.” He gave her a wink that she couldn’t decipher.
She shrugged. “I walk over, so it’s no big deal.”
“Oh, that’s right. I keep forgetting. Eighty’ll do that to ya. Still, come play with us!”
“It looks… complicated.”
He frowned at her. “Aren’t you studying to be an accountant? If you can handle that, this is nothing.”
Of course, Nick chose just that moment to come back through the door. To her surprise, he stopped, as if he were listening for her answer, rather than continuing on to set down the second load of boxes tucked under his arms.
“Uh… yes” was all she could manage.
Bob snorted. “Well, then it should be easy for you. I always failed at math, and I’m making due. Right, Nick?”
“Right, what?” he asked.
“I was telling Penny she should play with us. She brought brownies.” Bob raised an eyebrow as he pointed at her pink-towel-covered tray.
Nick’s eyes widened. Oh, God. He definitely did not want her to join them, no matter what Bob said. That was a “deer in the headlights” look if she’d ever seen one.
“Oh, I don’t need to trouble you,” she said quickly. “I’m sure you have too many players already. And I’m working. I should be attending the desk—”
“Nonsense,” Bob muttered under her words. “Nobody’s coming in tonight except you two crazies.”
The door rang its bell behind Nick. Realizing he was blocking the doorway, Nick hastily stepped out of the way. Penny’s stomach clenched as her eyes caught on her art bag, forgotten on the floor by the entry.
Right next to Nick’s feet.
Nick tripped, then caught himself. But one box slipped out, and dozens of tiny pieces scattered across the floor.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” Horrified, she rushed around the desk to help with the mess.
Bob started to bend down, then stopped. “Nick, uh, why don’t you give me those boxes and I’ll, uh… go over there.” Bob grabbed them before Nick could even respond and hustled away. Penny frowned. What was that all about?
She fell to her hands and knees and started gathering up the items, which looked like small toy soldiers but in animal and fantasy forms like bears, wolves, orcs, elves, knights, and goblins.
Oh, Sir Dreamy, you even carry knights around with you. She sighed inwardly. Tiny ones, but still.
He crouched down too, a moment later, and she was surprised to realize he was barely a foot away from her.
“Really sorry, Nick—” she started.
“Oh, that’s not your fault. I should have had it shut better. Maybe a rubber band. My fault.”
“No, no, I shouldn’t have left my bag there. You could have wiped out—”
“Really, its fine.” He sounded sincere, reassuring even. She looked up to find herself already pinned by those glorious brown eyes gazing down from above. She could see flecks of gold in them at this distance. He was… oh Lord, he was smiling at her. “I didn’t know you want to be an accountant.”
Fear jolted through her as she forced some words out, trying to qualify that somehow. “Well, uh— I don’t exactly— ‘Want’ might not be the right word.”
He tilted his head and frowned, pausing in picking up the little men.
“I’m just good at math, need something stable,” she muttered. “What are these?” She held up a particularly fascinating one, hoping to change the subject away from her. And her lack of sincere interest in her chosen profession.
“Oh.” He sounded disappointed. God, was he an accountant? Had she insulted her brethren somehow? What had she even said? How had she known him for this long and not figured out his job yet? “These are miniatures. Game pieces, basically.”
“This one is especially beautiful. Look at the detail around the belt, must be six different colors there. That must have taken a skilled hand. Or are these done by a machine?”
He blinked.
“Sorry.” She flushed and hurried to scoop more up. Nobody cared about painting like she did. Oh, they might pretend, but their eyes glassed over faster than a puddle at the North Pole.
“No, no. I was just…” He blinked again. “I painted that one.”
“What? Really?” His eyes widened at her enthusiasm. Shit. Too much, Penny, too much. “I didn’t know you painted,” she added, trying to sound more casual.
“Oh, I don’t. Well, just miniatures.”
“Oh.” Her hopes dimmed. It would have been so nice if Sir Dr
eamy liked to paint as much as she did. But of course, life didn’t work that way. He couldn’t be so handsome and seem so kind and actually like things that she did. She should be rejoicing they were even speaking.
“I mean, I wish I did,” he said. The words came out in a rush. “But I seem to suck at everything except miniatures. They give you structure, you know? And I can imagine what a real person or creature would look like. Don’t have to get the shapes right. You can focus on color and shadow.”
She snuck in another furtive glance and tore her eyes away when she realized he was more focused on her than their task. He looked… actually interested in the conversation.
She was suddenly very aware of the square of his shoulders, the way he loomed over her, casting a shadow, the woodsy, spicy scent of him. Was that… patchouli?
“Oh, yes. Coloring books do the same thing. Less stress.” They had almost gotten all the miniatures; only a few stragglers remained.
“I have some bigger dragons you might like. Why, do you—”
“Nick! Penny! Happy Wednesday!” boomed Dorothea’s singsong voice.
“Hello, Dorothea,” Penny replied cheerily.
“Hey!” Bob snapped with surprising urgency. “I, uh, come see this, Dorothea, will ya?” Penny frowned. Bob was acting… strangely.
Dorothea swept past them with one more wave, her sapphire-blue tunic and thick gold necklaces garish but also adorably her. Penny had to admire that voice; Dorothea was not a woman who would freeze up, fail to find the words she was looking for.
Nick looked from Bob back to her. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. Neither of them moved to pick up the last handful of remaining figurines.
“He’s right. You’re, uh, welcome to play with us. If you want.”
That wasn’t exactly a rousing invitation. She frowned. He probably just felt pressured into it. But she didn’t want to turn him down. Perhaps if she didn’t respond now she could figure out later how to handle this. Text Anka for input. Although her outgoing friend would probably just tell her to use pickup line number forty-two on him or something. It had worked on Ahmed, Ank’s boyfriend. Maybe Penny should take her pickup-line study more seriously.
Penny looked down at her lap, searching for how to dodge a response, then reached for the nearest figure.
Her hand bumped into cool, smooth skin. Him. They’d been reaching for the same one.
Both froze. She glanced up and met those brown eyes again, daring herself not to look away as a jolt of electricity shot through her.
“You know, we could—” he started.
“Aw, Nick and Pen, look at you two.” Betty strode up the main hallway. Her hair was curled and her jumpsuit purple velour today. She and Dorothea were decked out.
Penny snatched her hand away, mortified. Nick couldn’t want that. They weren’t together. Guys didn’t like such implications when they weren’t warranted. Even from sweet old ladies.
“Ah, come on, Betty, stop interrupting,” Bob snapped.
Penny blinked. Interrupting what? She jerked up and dove for the few figures that had spilled the farthest away. When she turned, Nick had also risen. She held out the figures to drop them in the box. Instead, he held his hand out and took them, time slowing as his fingers brushed her palm.
She barely concealed her shiver.
He put the figures in the box in slow motion, his eyes still trained on her. He hesitated, then turned away.
Ah. Over so soon. Disappointment threatened to overwhelm her. They’d talked longer than ever, but it was mostly all because of him. And her stupid bag.
The night would go on, and she’d watch him from afar, laughing with the group. He might stop by for a brownie, or he might not. He might say goodbye on the way out the door.
But mostly, it was over.
How was she going to go another week without another chance to talk to him? He’d been interrupted how many times—what had he been going to ask her?
Hell, no, it couldn’t be over yet.
“Uh, Nick?” she blurted. Shit, what now?
He stopped quickly and turned. “Yes?”
“How—uh, how was your day?” she croaked, her voice catching a little and stumbling through the words. Oh Lord, could that have gone any more awkwardly?
The smile he gave her nearly stopped her heart. Such smiles were worth risking death by awkwardness. Her stomach flip-flopped as she stared into those brown eyes. “Much better, now.”
A tingle flew through her. “Oh, uh, glad to hear it.” Oh, great response. Think—what next, what next? She hadn’t even tried to plan for this, she’d been so sure she’d fail the first step. Damn it.
“Yours?”
“My what?”
“How was your day?” His smile broadened. Probably in direct proportion to the redness of her face. God, his beard was so cute though.
“Oh, ah, boring. But I made brownies. Do you want one?” Wow, she was on a reckless bender here. This could only end badly.
He hesitated. Yes, this was going to be bad. Definitely bad.
“They’re double chocolate raspberry—”
“I forgot to have dinner,” he said at the same time.
She stared, unsure how to interpret that. Was that a yes or a no?
“Did you have dinner?” he asked.
“Uh, no. I usually eat after work. I guess it would make sense to eat dinner before dessert.” Her shoulders slumped. Duh. Who wants brownies at dinnertime?
He shrugged, a sudden twinkle in his eye. “Depends on the dessert. Some desserts are so good, it’s hard to wait.”
Was she having hot flashes? Was the retirement center on fire? Was that an innuendo or was she just that desperate? “Uh, where do brownies fall on that spectrum?”
“I’m not sure. It depends on the brownies. Would your day be… less boring if we ate together?”
Her eyebrows shot up. “What?” she choked out.
“Do you want to have dinner when you’re done with work and then try the brownies?” His slow voice felt heavy with meaning. Was he… flirting with her?
She stared, too stunned to respond.
“Unless you assure me that I absolutely shouldn’t wait.” His smile broadened to a grin, all the way up to his cute crinkled eyes.
Answer, Penny. Answer, damn it! Get voice systems back online!
“Sure. Uh—I mean, I’d love to have dinner, not that the brownies can’t wait. They’re just brownies, they’re not a big deal.”
He frowned. “I heard they were double chocolate raspberry. And you worked hard on them.”
He’d even been listening. Was she going to faint? “Well… yes. Dark chocolate. No nuts. Do you like nuts? And they are warm now.” Just like she was.
He took a step closer and eyed the tray. “Nuts only interfere with brownies, if you ask me.”
The perfect man. He was the perfect man!
“But I should go set up. Dorothea’s trying to get Betty to abandon her character and play a barbarian. That should be interesting. Feel free to come and play, Penny. If you want. No pressure.” He smiled again and walked toward the rec room.
Come and play, Penny. Those eyes. That voice. Fuck. She was lucky she had few actual duties other than watching the sign-in sheet and answering the phone. It wasn’t like she was going to be concentrating on anything.
Other than him.
She dragged her art bag behind the desk and sank into her chair. Then she fumbled in the pocket of her puffy purple coat, searching for her phone.
Suddenly, Nick’s face popped up in front of the reception desk. She gasped, clutching a hand to her chest.
“Sorry.” He grinned. “Forgot to sign in.” She nodded and pretended to be very interested in her phone while she watched him out of the corner of her eye. He scribbled something and threw down the pen. “You close at nine, right? I’ll meet you here then.”
She stared again, then stuttered a quick, “Yes, yes, I’ll be here. Are you sure
you’ll be done by then? I know sometimes you guys are still playing when I leave. I can wait if—”
“Don’t worry, I got this,” he said, still grinning, and strode off.
Well, holy shit. How did he know what time her shift ended?
Did she have a date?
When she was sure the game had started up, she texted Anka. Okay don’t freak out but I think I just might maybe almost sort of have a date.
What?!?!?!! came the frantic response. Omg can you go home on a break and shave your legs?
Penny snorted. Are you out of your mind? In this weather? Besides it’s just dinner after work. That is so not happening
Don’t be so sure. Did he flirt with you? Does this mean you used your pickup line?! Omgz!
He kind of did, she texted back. I think he did? We are in an old folk’s home, remember? They’d probably have heart attacks if I said half the things on that pickup line list.
Whatever, Anka texted back with a silly face.
We mostly talked because I was the cause of massive chaos and made him drop half his stuff. But I DID ask him how his day was!
Wow! You’re getting some tonight for sure.
It’s just dinner!
I was kidding. But you know, you might if you want to. ;)
Did she want to? She glanced over at Sir Dreamy. He rolled a die, and they all leaned forward to see what had come up. Maybe she’d see how dinner went.
Oh, who the hell was she kidding?
Her grand-opening sign was up, and she was ready for Sir Dreamy to come charging in any minute now. Maybe there should be a ribbon-cutting ceremony. Er, no, that sounded kinky. She squirmed in her seat. Well, maybe kinky wouldn’t be so bad. What if he was, er… into creativity in the bedroom? What if—
She was really counting chickens without any eggs to hatch. She cut off the errant thoughts and focused on the short term.
Bad Game_A Geeky New Adult Romance Page 2
