by Lacey Black
I take a deep breath, feeling the mortification starting to creep in once more. “But then he saw something that’s a little embarrassing, and I sort of freaked out. Well, that and I saw him with his ex, but now I’m thinking I got that part wrong. I can’t help but wonder if I’ve gotten it all wrong, you know?”
She meows, as if replying to my question with her understanding and support.
That or she’s telling me to man up and go after the guy.
Knowing her, it’s probably that one.
“He thinks we have something worth exploring, and I have to tell you, I think he’s right. But do you know what?” Deep breath. “I’m scared. I’ve watched so many of my friends fall in love, I’m afraid of actually falling myself. I’ve been alone so much of my adult life that I can’t help but focus on the ending, rather than being present for the beginning. I always find their faults. Right away, I focus on the dislikes instead of their likeable qualities. Hell, I did it with Theo when I met him too. I’ve been doing it all along.”
She purrs, her chest rumbling beneath my palm as I absently stroke her soft fur. “Maybe The Love Vixen was right. Maybe that’s the soul-searching I needed to do, not make a list of the qualities and traits I’m looking for. Because when I find the right guy for me, that list really doesn’t matter, does it? If I’m happy with me, the rest will fall into place.”
Sighing, I realize I’ve been very wrong about The Love Vixen’s response. I’ve also been wrong about Theo.
There’s not much I can do about the first one, except move forward. Find myself and the rest will fall into place.
But the last one? That one I can fix.
I just need to figure out how.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Theo
Walking away from her door was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I know it was right. She needs time to think about what I said, and I need time to execute the rest of my plan.
I toss my suitcase and rumpled suit onto my bed, grab my laptop from my office, and head to the kitchen table. There’s a small stack of order forms there, ones for pieces I still have to complete, but I push those aside.
Spending time in my shop has always been the best way to clear my head, but after the two-hour drive back to Appleton, I already know what needs to be done. I rehashed everything in my head and determined the best way to get Penelope’s attention. I’ve never been a “statement” kind of guy, but I’m about to make the biggest one of my life. I’m about to do something that could very well backfire in my face, leaving me alone once more.
But I really don’t think it will.
It can’t.
I need her too much.
If this doesn’t work, I’ll just try again.
I have to.
Because the picture I see of my future has her in it, dammit.
I pull up the website and wait for the page to load. Realizing I forgot the papers in my luggage, I hurry back to my room to retrieve the documents. When I have them in front of me, I start typing, and I don’t stop until I’ve said everything I need to say. I put it all out there, my thoughts and my heart. After signing the bottom, I click send without giving it a second thought.
Only then do I take a deep breath and relax in the chair, praying I did the right thing.
After shutting down my computer, I grab my phone and fire off a message to Trevor.
Me: I know you’re heading out soon for your honeymoon, but I wanted you to know the plan has been executed. Now we wait.
The bubbles appear instantly.
Trevor: Excellent. Keep me posted. Also, Teagan said if it works out between you two, you have to name your first kid after her.
I snort out a laugh.
Me: Teagan would be a weird name for a boy.
Trevor: Then you better have a girl, huh?
Me: One step at a time, man. Enjoy your trip!
Trevor: One week in a private beachside hut with my sexy new wife? That’s a given.
Me: So she still hasn’t realized she’s with the lesser Emerson brother then…
Trevor: Fuck off.
Trevor: Getting ready to go through security, so I better let you go. Keep us posted! We expect updates.
Me: Go enjoy your honeymoon. The rest will still be here when you get back.
Another message pops up instantly, but it’s not from my brother.
Teagan: Details, Theo! I’ll need details!!!!!
Me: Yes, ma’am. Have a nice trip.
Teagan: We will. *insert heart emoji*
I set my phone down and grab something to drink. I’d much rather have a beer, but it’s a little early for that. Settling for a bottle of tea, I take my beverage out to my shop. The early afternoon air is crisp as I unlock the side door, only stealing one glance over at my neighbor’s house. I can’t help but wonder what she’s doing over there.
What is she thinking about?
Us?
Or at least the prospect of us?
Lord knows that’s all I can think about.
That’s why I’m out here, desperate to regain a little sense of my control. This thing with Penelope is out of my hands, despite how badly I want it. The ball is in her court, so to speak. But transforming a piece of wood into something bigger, something greater is a task where I can control the outcome.
So that’s what I focus on.
For the next four hours, I build. I design, I measure, I cut. In the end, I have a beautiful desk. Without thinking, I start to sand. I make sure it’s the smoothest unit I’ve ever made, and then retrieve stain. I know which color I’m looking for. I just don’t think about why.
I barely take breaks. I work on the desk well after the sun drops from the sky and the night air settles around me. I’m focused, patient, and precise. In the end, I have a stunning custom desk in the most gorgeous shade of red mahogany. It’s not too big, just the right size to hold a computer, lamp, and other desktop items. There’s a drawer on one side, as well as an open shelf to house a computer tower or even books.
I step back and appreciate my work, ignoring the stretch of sore muscles in my back. The work is done, and now I’ll leave it to cure overnight. Then, I’ll deliver it, first thing tomorrow morning, to Harmon’s Furniture. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve taken them any new pieces to sell. I’m sure they’ll love this one.
Except this one’s not for sale.
Like my heart, this piece is already sold.
***
“How was the wedding?” Patrick asks the moment he slides into the booth across from me.
“It was good,” I reply, taking a drink of the beer I had already ordered before he arrived.
“Good like you got your dick played with every which way to Sunday?” he asks, waggling his eyebrows suggestively in only the way Patrick can do.
I snort and shake my head, yet don’t deny. Images of my time with Penelope come back in bright Technicolor, replaying in vivid detail as they have the last several days. Even when I close my eyes and sleep, I can’t escape her memory.
“That’s a yes,” he says, taking the beer in front of him. “Give me all the deets.”
“Deets? What are you a fifteen-year-old girl?”
“Quit stalling and tell me all about her. Was she a hot guest? The single bridesmaid? A server who slipped you her number, so you slipped her the D behind the closet door?”
I burst out laughing. “Jesus, man. You’re something else.”
“The ladies love me,” he comments, winking at a woman who passes our table on her way to the restroom.
“Anyway,” I start, pausing to collect my thoughts, “You weren’t entirely wrong.”
He arches his eyebrow and smiles mischievously. “Tell me more. Who was it?”
“The single bridesmaid.” Though, I hate calling her that.
“Shut up, really? You hooked up?”
I nod in confirmation. “She’s pretty fucking speci
al, actually. She’s more than just a hookup.”
Patrick looks a bit confused as he takes another drink of his beer. “You’re dating?”
I shrug. “Not officially, but I hope to be soon.”
Now he gives me a perplexed look. “Okay, you’re speaking in riddles. What’s going on?”
“Penelope.”
That seems to surprise him. “Penelope Shaw? Your hot neighbor, Penelope? The one you’ve been lusting after for longer than any grown man ever should?”
“The one and the same. Penelope was actually the single bridesmaid.”
His jaw drops. “Shut the front door.”
I tell him all about stumbling upon my neighbor at the hotel and discovering we’re in the same wedding together. He listens, in complete rapture, as I talk about spending time together up to the wedding and then dancing at the reception.
“And you slept with her?”
I nod, finishing off my beer and sliding it to the edge of the table for a refill.
“But you’re not together now? You said you were hoping to date her.”
“There was some confusion on Sunday. Rachel showed up at the worst possible time, and I think she saw it. She assumed I was playing her.”
“Rachel the conniving bitch of an ex, Rachel?”
“That one,” I acknowledge, taking the fresh drink when it’s placed in front of me.
“Wow, so you’ve had some real Dr. Phil shit going on these last few days, huh?”
“That I have, but I’m working on rectifying the issue.”
His look conveys his skepticism. “And the issue?”
“To make her realize we’re perfect together.”
Patrick sighs and shakes his head. “You’ve stepped way over the line of friends with bennies, man. That sounds a lot like love.”
I snort and lean back in the booth, feeling relaxed for the first time all day. “I don’t know about that, but it’s more than friends with benefits. I see a future with her, and I’m hoping she realizes it too. Soon. Knowing she’s next door and I can’t hold her is killing me.”
He sits up straight and leans forward. “I have an idea.”
“Oh no.”
“What you need is some Reddi-wip and a cock ring,” he starts. The worst part is he’s completely serious.
“Stop.”
“I’m telling you, cock rings work wonders,” he reassures just as a group of ladies walks past. They pause at our table, eyes bouncing between him and me, and start giggling. “No, it’s not like that, ladies,” he quickly adds as they start to walk away, clearly thinking he’s trying to convince me to use one as his lover.
“Oh, Pookie, don’t be shy now,” I coo, reaching for his hand and doing everything I can to keep a straight face.
Patrick jerks his hand back. “I don’t like dick!” he declares loud enough for the women to hear it across the bar. “I like vagina!” He levels a serious look at me. “Fuck you. That was mean.”
I burst out laughing. “That was fun.”
“Shut up, asshole, and tell me about this plan of yours to win the girl.”
So I do. I tell him what I’ve done this far and explain how it’s now a waiting game. Patrick just smiles. “I’m on it.”
“On what?”
“I know a woman who works behind the scenes. I’ll make a call.”
“Yeah?” I ask, completely dumbfounded.
“Yep. I’ll text you later after I reach out.”
“Wow, okay.”
A sudden bout of nerves sweeps in. This could be it. This could be the moment I declare to the whole world what Penelope Shaw means to me.
I just pray it goes well.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Penelope
It’s been almost a week. Five days, actually, since I talked to Theo. Sure I’ve seen him out working in his shop every day, but I haven’t been brave enough to go out yet. What would I say?
You mean besides I’m sorry, I’m an idiot, and I want you?
Yeah, my inner voice is not letting me off easy here. But I wouldn’t expect her to. Risk is a big part of taking the leap into the unknown, especially with a relationship. You have to be willing to take the chance or risk the chance passing you by.
And I want to take that risk. If there’s one thing I’ve learned over these last few days, it’s that I liked the person I was when I was with Theo. He was easy to talk to, listened intently, and made me feel valued. He brought a smile to my face so much it now feels unnatural not to smile when I think of him.
Which is often.
But I haven’t heard from him.
That’s because he’s waiting for you to put on your big girl panties and go over there.
My phone rings, and I’m surprised to see Teagan’s name on the screen.
“Aren’t you in Fiji right now?”
“I am, and it’s heaven,” she practically sings, making me smile.
“I’m not jealous at all,” I state, a little extra fake-pout thrown in to my reply.
She laughs. “It’s actually raining right now, and Trevor is in the shower. We have a dinner reservation in half an hour.”
“And you’re calling me instead of taking a shower with your new husband?”
“My vag needed a break, Pen. He’s insatiable. Let me have this short reprieve, okay?”
I can’t help but laugh. “I’m glad you’re having fun,” I reply honestly.
“It’s been an amazing trip. Tomorrow we’re going snorkeling again at this private spot with a waterfall. Oh, and we forgot condoms, so I’m hoping to bring back more than just a great tan as a souvenir.”
A little gasp slips from my throat. “Really?”
“Yeah, really. We decided not to use them anymore. When it happens, it happens.”
I instantly smile. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Thanks,” she replies, clearing her throat. “Listen, that’s not why I called.”
“You mean you didn’t call to tell me your vagina is being overworked by your new husband?”
She snickers. “No, that’s not the reason. That was just a bonus. The reason I was calling was to see if you saw that announcement from The Love Vixen. She’s posting a new podcast at seven, your time. It’s supposed to be her best one yet.”
The Love Vixen.
I haven’t watched an episode or read a blog post since my own letter wound up on her show. In fact, I’ve been avoiding it like crazy.
“Oh, I’m not sure. I have a few things to do later,” I insist casually, hoping I kept my voice even.
“Something tells me you have nothing to do but watch old Hallmark Channel movies and snuggle with your cat.”
“That’s not nice.” Even if it is accurate.
“Just listen to the show for me, will you? I really wanted to hear it, but we’ll be finishing up dinner when it’s on,” she insists.
“It’s a podcast, Teag. Listen to it when you get home,” I argue.
“No can do, friend. I need you to listen tonight. Promise me.”
I open my mouth to refuse, but it’s pointless. She knows I’ll do it, even if I don’t exactly know why she’s so insistent. You can watch any previous podcast on her website, so I don’t get why the push for me to do it.
“Fine. I’ll do it. But I’m drinking wine while I watch, and you can’t stop me.”
Teagan laughs. “I’ll even bring you home a bottle from here to replace the one you drink at home. Thanks, Pen. I really appreciate it.”
I grumble a quick “You’re welcome” and listen as she talks to someone in the background.
“Trevor’s ready to go. Don’t forget to watch it. Seven o’clock.”
I sigh. “I hope he breaks your vagina tonight.”
She laughs loudly before tossing me a quick “Love you” and signing off.
I stare at the Lean Cuisine microwave dinner I had planned to eat and reach for the bottle
of wine. If I’m going to endure watching an hour-long program, I’m definitely going to need alcohol. But I also know I’ll need food, so I wind up throwing the frozen tray of chicken alfredo in the microwave anyway.
Fifteen minutes later, it’s cool enough to eat, so I take it into my office, along with my glass of wine, and fire up my laptop. I click on the bookmark at the top, the one that will take me to The Love Vixen’s website. I sip wine and take small bites of my bland chicken dish while it loads. Fortunately, I don’t have to wait too long for the start of her show.
The Love Vixen’s familiar face fills the screen. “Good evening, Vixens, and welcome to a very special episode. I have a letter I received earlier this week that I found completely interesting. I can’t wait to share it with you.
“Dear Love Vixen, You recently had a podcast regarding a woman who sounded fascinating. I was drawn to her letter immediately, not because of her words themselves, but because of the fire and passion behind them. See, I too have been looking for someone. I haven’t had the best of luck dating and even have a failed engagement. I’ve been alone for two years, and up until recently, thought I was okay with that. Until I got to know my neighbor.
“See, she’s amazing. Smart, funny, and doesn’t take my shit (pardon my language). Believe me, I’ve given her some in the two years I’ve lived next door. I’m noisy all day, working in my wood shop behind my house. I use hand and power tools, something I know can’t be easy to listen to, especially if someone works from home. Every time my neighbor comes over to complain, there’s this brilliant fire dancing in her gorgeous green eyes. I can’t get enough of them. Or her.”
My heart starts to pound in my chest, and I find myself leaning forward to get closer to the laptop screen.
“What really caught my attention was your reply to her inquiry. First, you suggested a little soul-searching, so I thought I’d do a little bit of that myself. Here are some things about me. I’m honest, loyal, and clean up my own messes. I’ve lived alone for two years now, and don’t have a problem taking out the trash, washing the dishes, and making sure my dirty socks are in a hamper. I like cats, especially calico ones. I love to sit outside late at night. I don’t have a swing, but I imagine if I did, I’d be in it all the time. Heck, maybe I should get one? The thought of holding this woman’s hand sends my heartbeat into overdrive. I enjoy dancing, and don’t even need to have alcohol in my system to do it. I love a good cleansing rainfall, which is probably a good thing, considering I live in Washington. And finally, I don’t want to toot my own horn, but I’ve been told recently I’m a damn good kisser. Of course, it probably has something to do with finding the right partner, because the woman I spent last weekend with made for some amazingly hot kisses.”
