by Dee Tenorio
He stared down at her. “You are one bat-shit crazy old lady.”
She simply blinked at him. Waiting.
“I don’t want your money, Lorna. I don’t want anything from you but Penelope.” He sat down, slowly, tamping down his temper because in a strange way, this was kind of reassuring.
He’d always thought of Lorna as an unfeeling, cold-hearted bitch who could suck the life out of a room like a black hole. Coming to him this way, ensuring privacy while she did her best to filet his balls, all in the name of protecting her child… Well, she’d never be cute and cuddly, but maybe she wasn’t the icy source of all evil, either.
“I want to marry her,” he admitted, because she deserved fair warning at the least. “I plan to stick around for the long haul this time. Any kids that we have, we’ll take care of, so I’m pretty sure you’ll be safe.”
“And she knows this?” Lorna asked, rising like a queen preparing her exit. “Because if she doesn’t, I’d recommend you keep it that way. She’s been skittish about the prospect of marriage since she was little.”
Raul frowned. Were they done? “She’s never said anything about fearing marriage.”
“Her father died from a heart attack at the age of thirty-six. General consensus is that our marriage did him in. You have about as much chance of convincing her to marry you as you do of growing a second head.”
They both turned and caught sight of the window where the hallway was plastered with laughing firemen while Wilde did some kind of bare-assed jig, pressing his almost iridescently white cheeks against the glass.
Lorna turned back to Raul and dryly added, “Perhaps less.”
She opened the door briskly, stepping out into the raucous noise, utterly unmoved. Raul followed, watching as she leveled the group to complete silence with a wintry glare. Confused as to why everyone stopped, Wilde looked up and, wide-eyed, dropped his towel in horror.
Lorna glanced down, then back up at the poor bastard’s face before turning to Raul again. “You’re overspending my tax dollars, Captain. Anyone can see that man doesn’t require more than a washcloth.”
The hall erupted into an explosion of laughter while Raul bit back a grin. “I’ll keep that in mind when we restock, ma’am.”
“See that you do.” The crowd of men parted like the Red Sea before her and for the first time, Raul realized that Lorna Gibson had a devilish sense of humor. Having her in the family might not be the utter hell he expected.
Of course, now all he had to do was get Penelope to feel the same way.
Chapter Ten
“Stop freaking out, Penelope.” Miranda’s stern voice through the phone didn’t do much for Penelope’s nerves. She was sitting in her office ten minutes after she should have left, and she couldn’t seem to make herself leave. If she left, she’d have to meet with Raul and Chloe at her house. If they did that, she’d have to go with them to Chloe’s school for the holiday play. Where her mother would be waiting. Where his whole freaking family would be waiting.
Where Ophelia would be waiting.
“Yeah, it’s not like everyone doesn’t already know you’re doing the dirty with Raul,” Trisha chimed in, thanks to the power of three-way calling. They heard traffic noise because, unlike Pen, Trisha actually had herself and her family on the road to the school where their kids would perform. “That man has been way too happy lately not to be getting a little some-some.”
“I know,” Pen groaned, laying her forehead flat to her desk. More than a little. It was like every time she saw him lately, she had to have him and Raul had done precious little to stop her. In fact, he’d only been making it worse, sneaking into the kitchen for kisses that left her clinging to the cabinetry, turning a simple guiding hand at her back to a tickling caress beneath her bra strap—and why was that arousing?
All the clandestine sex wasn’t the worst of it, though. Ever since that night in his apartment, he’d been so affectionate. Teasing. Flirtatious. And intent. He rolled out the charm, and she was like so much melting cookie dough plowed beneath it. When they were out, he wanted to hold her hand. When he asked about her day, he actually listened to her talk. Then he’d tell her about things going on in town, simple things about what he saw and did, and all the while he’d keep Chloe in the conversation.
If she didn’t know any better, she’d think they were some kind of happy family. But happy families did not live in three different places—when one considered the nights he stayed at the firehouse—and they did not have sex-crazed mothers tempted to slip the child a mickey so she could get her limbs wrapped around the Daddy as soon as possible.
Most importantly, they didn’t stress out over going to a simple holiday play.
“This is all getting too…real.”
“What did you think it was, honey? Playtime?” Trisha asked. “I coulda told you months ago Raul was out for the gold. That man is taken and anyone with a brain can tell he wants to return the favor.”
“Could you please say something not utterly terrifying?” Trusting Raul that much, to commit to him that way…every muscle in her body yanked at the brakes. And yet, every night he called, every time he arrived at the door…she went right back to being cookie dough.
“I think it’s sweet. He’s courting you, all old-fashioned and everything,” Miranda said, as if anyone couldn’t guess her opinion. “I never knew he was such a romantic.”
“Neither did I.” It made her nervous. Yelling she could handle. His temper, she realized now, wasn’t nearly as volatile as she remembered and shockingly, she could give as good as he could. Stranger yet, he considered that a positive thing. But all this emotional seduction, from the way he looked at her to the way he spoke to her—even about nothing at all—was confusing. Why was he doing it? She was already sleeping with him. He kept talking about their relationship like it was a permanent thing and she knew that wasn’t going to happen. Especially not if she had to spend time around his mother.
“You didn’t have any trouble going with him anywhere else in town,” Trisha said. “I’ve even seen the three of you at Shaky Jake’s—and God knows there’s no bigger way to announce a relationship than letting the whole town have at you over a burger. What’s the real problem, Pen?”
Ophelia. She picked her face off the desk and rubbed her forehead with her spare hand. “It’s not going to last and all I can think about is when the other shoe is going to fall.”
In fact, if what she worried about happened, tonight might just be the night. The constant expectation of what his mother might say if she saw them together, of what she could say to Chloe, was like a sword over Penelope’s head every day. The Montengas were tight. When Ophelia rejected them openly—and Penelope had no doubt that she would, it was only a matter of time—what would that do to Raul? How would he respond? Thomas would support his wife, that went without saying. His sisters, including Julia, would get quiet and step back, looking anywhere but at her or Chloe until they walked away. But what about Raul? He made all kinds of sweet promises, but when his own mother made him choose, Penelope knew none of them would matter.
Or worse, what if he tried to stay with her and lost his family? He’d moved more than a thousand miles away to escape them and that hadn’t worked in the slightest. If he lost them because of her, how long would it be before the resentment overtook any kind of affection? Too soon, and that would be worse than having him cut them loose.
Not that she expected the latter. In a matter of minutes, they could be on their own again and she wasn’t ready for that. Wasn’t ready to teach Chloe how to deal with losing everything she pinned her hopes on. A cold sweat covered her body, just thinking about it.
But there wasn’t a choice anymore. The play was tonight. Chloe was the Christmas Star, of all things. She’d be about as inconspicuous as sunlight. And just as necessary to the play. There was no backing out of this or buying any more time.
“You don’t know that,” Miranda chided her, breaking the chain of
thoughts Penelope was lashing herself with. “For all you know, Raul’s thinking happily-ever-after, the whole nine yards. According to Josh, that’s what it sounds like.”
Yeah, because Josh was the master of commitment. Penelope rolled her eyes. “Even if he is, I’m not.”
Trisha snorted. “Sorry, babe, but you wouldn’t be this miserable if you didn’t want to keep that man forever. And who can blame you? I saw him in swim trunks over the summer at Josh’s house and if I wasn’t married…mmm!”
“How do I disconnect her line?” Penelope demanded.
“There is no disconnecting her, I’ve tried a thousand times,” Miranda said with a sigh. “And she’s got a point. How about you show a little faith? Give him a chance.”
How did she tell them she was already taking every chance she had left in her?
“None of it matters anyway. If you don’t get that tush of yours over to the school in the next fifteen minutes, Chloe’s going to be letting down the whole fifth grade class and you’ll never hear the end of it.”
She wouldn’t. The understudy for the star was Lissy McKade, a cutesy little girl from the opposing fifth grade class who had the definite earmarks of a future perfect cheerleader. She and Chloe hated each other.
“Fine, I’m going, but I’m telling you, I have a bad feeling.” From the tips of her toes, she didn’t want to go to this thing. It’ll be over, her gut told her with a dreaded surety.
“In the great words of someone famous, ‘Too bad’. See you in fifteen!” Trisha hung up and Penelope sighed. She barely heard Miranda’s wish of good luck and hung up the phone.
You can do this, she coached herself. You can do this. She stepped out of the office and into the hall where she found Cara waiting with a message.
“Raul said he couldn’t get through your office line so he said to go ahead and meet him and Chloe at the school. God, you’re so lucky, what I wouldn’t give to have a guy call me with that voice…”
But Penelope didn’t hear her. Raul had taken Chloe without her? And he wouldn’t think the slightest thing about bringing her over to see his family before the show.
She was running before the color finished leaching from her face.
{{{
“That is a lot of glitter—hey!”
Penelope, still breathless, felt Raul’s arm snake around her waist and pull her to his side before she even fully entered the school auditorium. She blinked at him, startled when he dropped a quick kiss on her lips and went back to his conversation. With his brother. “Um, where’s Chloe?”
That didn’t sound too desperate. She hoped.
Raul gave her a sideways glance, a touch of concern lifting his brow. “She went backstage as soon as we got here. Something about not wanting Lissy to try on her costume.”
“We were just talking about the decorations.” Thomasso, named appropriately for his father because the tall man looked just as much like the older man as Raul did, pointed at the snowflakes hanging from the ceiling. She had to agree with Raul, the clumps of glitter were tinkling down as the loaded paper flakes blew in the streams of air from the central heat vents.
“I didn’t know you had any kids still in elementary, Thomasso,” Penelope said, trying to cover her relief that nothing terrible had happened. She even smiled, despite Raul looking at her with a touch of suspicion.
“I don’t, but these things are huge to the kids, so we all roll out for them.” He pointed to the three rows filled with what could only be Montengas. Adults, teenagers, babies. Everyone was there.
Penelope stared, unable to breathe. Oh, sweet God.
“Only child.” Raul snickered and Thomasso laughed. “Come on, agoraphobe, I’ve got a nice safe seat for you, right next to your mother.”
“Mother’s here?” Was that good or not? And why was he leading her toward the horde that was his family?
“Sure, she’s saving our seats.”
Penelope took a second to check him for signs that he might be drunk, but he was as sober as ever, leading her to the row behind his brother’s family. As she sat, Bug turned in her seat and waved.
“I heard Chloe’s the Disco Ball this year. Is she excited?”
“She’s the Christmas Star.” Penelope rose again when she realized she’d dropped onto her mother’s coat. She glanced at Lorna, but her mother only held out her hand for the jacket. Not so much as a displeased look for being parked with such a gregarious group. In fact, Lorna hadn’t had a complaint in weeks. About anything.
“You haven’t seen the costume yet, have you?” Bug laughed, throwing her uncle a wink. “Trust me, you’re going to be hearing Donna Summer in your head for weeks.”
“Bug was the Christmas Star for three years,” Raul informed both her and Lorna.
“I thought this was the fifth grade play.”
“It is, but something kept happening to the understudies, didn’t it, Bug?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Bug laughed and turned back to her row to talk to a girl Pen could only guess was her sibling.
“Actually, when she was in fourth grade, more than half of the fifth grade class came down with chicken pox the day before the play.” Raul slipped his arm behind her shoulders, giving Penelope a far-too-comfortable spot to lean her head.
“What about the other year?”
“No one really knows,” he answered in a false ghostly voice. He stole another kiss, this one a little softer, which made her sigh. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Fresh. Kneaded. Cookie dough.
“So, what kept you at the office?” he asked, relaxing in his seat.
Damn. Penelope straightened, the happy haze lifting as fast as it had fallen. “Just some last-minute phone calls that went longer than I planned.”
“Oh yeah?” He looked interested. “Anything juicy going on?”
He didn’t admit it, but one thing she’d learned in the last few months was that he was as bad a gossip hound as anyone else at Shaky Jake’s. “How many times do I have to invoke doctor/patient privilege with you?”
“Just until I figure out how to pick the locks on your office files.”
She was reaching for the rib on his left side that was still as ticklish as when he was a kid when there was a sound from the microphones.
“Welcome, families of Cielolitos Elementary!” People rustled to their seats and the lights in the auditorium flicked off, leaving only stage lights on what turned out to be the school principal. A tall man, Jan Van Dick was easily seen even from their chairs near the back. He started introducing the teachers of the fifth grade class, and little by little, Penelope relaxed. This would be fine. She had nothing to be worried about. Everything was going to be fine.
She felt even better when music started playing and little kids streamed onto the stage. Though the main speaking parts belonged to the fifth graders, the younger grades were all there, forming a chorus in the background. She’d never come before, not realizing that there was much to the event for the younger classes. Chloe had always said she only wanted to come for the desserts put out afterward and to see her friends, so Penelope always asked Lorna to take her. She’d been missing out and never even realized it.
She recognized Trisha’s twin boys with the first grade group singing “O, Christmas Tree”. The play wasn’t the nativity the way it had been when she’d attended this school, but instead a conglomeration of the various winter holidays around the world with a fifth grader or three outfitted to sing about it. The eight kids linked together as a golden menorah trying to walk as one was a good laugh. Danny hammed up his role as “The Kwanzaa Kid”, earning whistles from his cousins, but when Chloe came out, Penelope suddenly understood what Bug meant.
The costume was a bedazzled fantasy of shiny silver material draped over her shoulders, poncho style. On her head was a glittery crown a little reminiscent of the Statue of Liberty, but slathered in shiny beads. Her hair was loose for the first time in ages, rippling over h
er shoulder, painted somehow a matching silvery color. Just like her face.
“Don’t worry, it washes out. I checked,” Raul murmured in her ear.
A nearby flash of light startled her and Penelope stared at her mother, who was putting her camera back in her purse as if the world hadn’t just fallen off its axis. “You’re taking pictures?”
Lorna put her purse back down at her feet. “I always take pictures at these things. Otherwise she thinks I went home and came back in time to pick her up.”
Well, that sounded normal.
“Sure she does.” Raul laughed and, to her shock, she realized he had a camcorder already in his hand. Before she could say anything, Chloe started whistling, dancing around the stage to the tune of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”.
“Dear God, she couldn’t have just sung horribly, like the other children?”
Penelope closed her eyes, hoping the other parents nearby hadn’t heard Lorna’s complaint, but Raul was laughing too hard for that wish to fly far. The auditorium lit up with applause when Chloe finished and within another minute or two, the teachers were back on stage, bowing with the kids. Then kids were streaming down and people were standing up.
Penelope lost sight of Chloe in the milling crowd, and given she was the only kid sparkling like the Tin Man, that was saying something. “Do you see her?” she asked Raul, his greater height probably giving him more of an advantage.
“No, she was right—oh, wait, my dad has them.”
“What?” Oh, God. She pushed past Raul, ignoring his frown as she twisted through the moving crowd to get just three rows forward. Why were so many people in the damn way?
“Penelope?” Raul was just behind her.
She slipped past a man with his son on his shoulders and she could see Chloe, standing there with Thomas’s big hand on her small shoulder, her smile brighter than any of the little jewels on her outfit. Ophelia sat in her seat, not seeming to notice them as she talked to Danny. A few more feet and…no.
No. Chloe’s smile was fading. Thomas’s lined smile darkened into a scowl, one directed clearly at his wife. Penelope actually heard the older man’s snapped call of Ophelia’s name. She pushed free just as the woman turned her head, her cold gaze landing on Chloe as if she’d just been presented with a particularly foul bug.
