Penn's Fortune (Saddles & Second Chances Book 2) Page 6

  She brought her fingers to the spot in her hair. “I hit my head on the bed frame when I slipped under.”

  “Let me take a look.” He leaned in, but she backed up.

  “I’m fine, really. It doesn’t even hurt.” Obviously, she tried her best to put on a strong smile, but it was weak, unless he was imagining things.

  He had a feeling she wasn’t used to having anyone volunteering to help her. Hell, he wasn’t used to wanting to help someone so much. He had no clear idea what was going on with her, or Reed, but if he had contributed to her chaos in any way, he wanted to be sure he made things right.

  Not wanting to scare her, he stepped forward slowly and counted to three, then leaned in to examine the cut. He couldn’t see anything so he lifted a lock of her hair and he heard her suck in a breath. He jerked back, meeting her puzzled gaze. “Trust me. I won’t hurt you.”

  “I-I’m not worried about you hurting me, at least not deliberately.” Her soft voice penetrated his skin.

  “Are you afraid I’ll kiss you again?” He lifted a brow.

  She moved away from him, her hands clutching the edge of the granite counter. “My adrenaline is starting to come back to normal and I’m beginning to process how serious this situation is.”

  With her back to him, he couldn’t see her face, but when her shoulders shook he was upon her, turning her and drawing her into his arms. He soaked in her softness, the firmness of her breasts pressing against his chest, the heat radiating from between her legs that cradled his groin like a perfect spooning. She didn’t resist and he wasn’t about to let her go. “I know it must be a lot to handle.”

  “How could I allow myself to get involved with a man like Marshall? How couldn’t I see his true colors? Now everything is upside down.”

  He swallowed hard. “Sometimes we see what we want to see, and sometimes we’re good at hiding who we really are until we think we have both feet in.”

  She pulled back and looked up at him. “Do you agree now that Marshall is behind this?”

  No doubt that a lot rode on his answer. He had to be honest. “I think it looks suspicious, but I’ve learned to not be the judge and jury unless I have proof.”

  One corner of her mouth dipped. “I guess that’s fair.”

  “Now, can I take a closer look at that cut?” He took her hand, led her across the room to the leather couch and motioned for her to take a seat. He saw the last bit of her reluctance fade away as she dropped onto the cushion. It could be that she was just too exhausted to argue. As he examined the wound he was glad to see that it wasn’t as deep as he feared. “I’ll be back. I’m going to grab the first aid kit and get it cleaned up.”

  When he came back, she was still seated in the same position, but there was a suspicious sparkle in her eyes. Did she want to cry, but was holding back? He imagined that when she finally let the dam go, they’d need a boat and paddle.

  As he looked at the cut, now bruised and surrounded by dried blood, he only grew angrier at the situation—angrier at Marshall Reed. No woman should have to feel fear for her safety or life. No woman should be awakened by a man in the night unless it’s to hold her, make love to her, make her feel special.

  “This hasn’t been the most rewarding night,” she said.

  “Ain’t that the truth,” he whispered.

  Although the wound was superficial and was the result of an accident, it didn’t ease the tension in his gut. Growing up with four brothers, he’d had plenty of those ‘scratches’ over the years, but he could only imagine how scared she must have been to have flung herself under the bed in such haste. For that, he felt guilty, although he’d only meant to help.

  “Look, Harley—”

  She looked up at him with tear stained irises, and he felt his wall crumbling. Felt a tight chain break. “Yes?”

  “I owe you an apology. I should have let you know I was in your house. I didn’t know what I was walking into.”

  Her lips tightened until she finally shrugged. “I understand. You were only doing what was best.”

  He stood. “Probably a good idea to ice it.” He was already in the kitchen when the last word fell from his lips. Opening the freezer, he found a bag of frozen peas and wrapped it in one of the soft towels from the drawer. He turned and almost bumped into her. “Wow, there you are again, sneaking up on me.” He offered her the ice pack and she hesitated. “It won’t bite.”

  She accepted it. “You must wish that I didn’t show up on your doorstep tonight.” She smiled. He was glad to see that the remnants of tears and puckered bottom lip had disappeared.

  “And miss that greeting? That left a lasting impression.” He wagged his brows. Concern darkened her eyes again. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “It certainly was not your run of the mill first meeting.” Her gaze dropped to his zipper and then her eyes lifted. “You left a lasting impression too.”

  His body throbbed. Damn, what he wouldn’t give to forget morals and ethics and take her into his arms to recap the kiss that left his blood boiling. “I usually don’t,” he searched for the appropriate word, “reveal so much of myself at first.”

  “I got that feeling. You’d be a busy man if you worked that fast. Did your company finally show up?”

  “Yes. And that reminds me…” He dug into his back pocket, pulled out the earring and held it up. It sparkled in the overhead light. “This must be yours.”

  Her eyes widened as she reached up, touching her left ear and then her right. “These were my mom’s.” She took the earring, but frowned. “The back kept falling off, but at least I have what’s important. Thank you.”

  “I’d like to take credit, but actually Seneca was the one who found it.”

  “Seneca, a.k.a. Saucy? Oh, I hope she didn’t think…”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, she did, but it’s okay. What she and I share shouldn’t include jealousy.” He stepped over to the catch-all drawer and dug through the junk, swearing he needed to get rid of most of it. How many rolls of duct tape did a man need anyway? Yeah, he’d keep those. He finally found what he was looking for. “A girl I was seeing back in high school showed me this once.”

  “A pencil?” She laughed.

  “No, that this can be used as a back for an earring.” He pulled off the eraser, then handed it over. She grappled with the small earring and he realized her fingers were trembling. “Here, I have big hands, but I think I can manage getting it in the hole.” Her breath hissed from her chest and he realized how his words sounded. “You certainly do have a dirty mind, don’t you?”

  Her mouth opened before she clamped her lips shut. She didn’t even bother answering.

  Moving closer, he expected her to step away, but she didn’t and that made him feel good. Maybe she was learning to trust him. He took the earring from her and grasped it between his fingers as he held her ear lobe with the other hand. She tilted her chin, giving him better access, but all he could manage was to follow the delicate line of her pale skin from her jaw to her collarbone.

  “Are we doing this?” she asked.

  He cleared his throat. “Yes.” On his first attempt, he had the earring in the hole and the makeshift back in place. “All done.”

  She lifted her gaze and smiled. “You’re good at that.”

  Hell, he understood she meant it innocently, but his poor southern region shot up like a rod. He couldn’t control himself, not from the attraction spiraling between them with no remorse for integrity. “You’d be surprised just how.” Did I really say those words? Shit! She was going to run.

  She didn’t. Instead, she smiled. “You think highly of your abilities, don’t you? Or is it that you don’t own a filter?”

  “Blame my brothers. They’ve been a bad influence on me.”

  “Do you always blame others for your downfalls?” One thin brow popped up.

  “Pretty much.”

  She looked up at him and he had no relief from the throbbing in his body. Her eyes were e
xtraordinarily dark except for a sparkle that appeared like she’d reached up, grabbed a handful of stars from a clear night, and planted them in her pupils. He’d already decided that she was beautiful, but that didn’t even come close to what she truly was. He wished he was artistic enough to create a word belonging just to her, something to describe her loveliness. “I’d set you straight if I didn’t hear the rumors of how rowdy you Jericho brothers are.”

  He settled his gaze on her perfectly shaped lips as she spoke. He could kiss her a hundred times and still not be done exploring the soft sweep of her bottom lip or the gentle bow of her upper. He could spend hours, days, months, just discovering her mouth, and only imagine how long it would take him to learn every succulent curve, every feminine dip and delicate bend of her body.

  How the hell did all this happen? He wasn’t a romantic, and sure as hell had no use in taking care of someone, but damn, life had thrown him a fast ball and he was left without a bat or glove.

  He was attracted to her for every reason that was against his rules, and because he shouldn’t want her only made her more tempting.

  “You’re looking at me like I’m a foreign specimen.”

  Thankfully, her words were laced with humor and not anger. She had to see just how spellbound he was by her. Someone above was playing a joke on Penn.

  He was trying his best to not want her, to not think of her naked or sinking his body into hers, but nothing was working. He tried to ignore the images of him kissing, licking, suckling every inch of her, hearing her call his name as she reached orgasm.

  Lost cause.

  “Sorry. I was just listening.”

  “And what exactly did I say?” She put him on the spot.

  He swallowed. “Rowdy. Brothers. And I’m the best one?”

  She laughed. “Good try, but not even close. I heard you’re the rowdiest.”

  He tore a hand through his hair, realizing he left his hat in the truck. “Someone has been lying to you.”

  “Yes, they have, and his name is Marshall Reed.”

  “Reed said I was rowdy?” Lord, he couldn’t think straight.

  “No, my best friend, Jodi, follows everything you and your brothers do, short of knowing what color of underwear you wear.”

  “She’d never guess the color.”

  “Really? And why is that?”

  “I go commando.”

  She moistened her lips and he swore he heard his blood flowing through his veins. “There it is again. That ego. You get a kick out of shocking me, don’t you?”

  “Actually, I don’t think anyone could be more shocked with me than I am at this point. From the kiss, to the fact that I turned away Seneca so I could watch you—or rather, sit outside your house.”

  She lowered her face so he couldn’t see her expressive eyes any longer.

  “I should get to bed. Hopefully tomorrow we can shed some light on this situation.” The dark circles under her eyes told him just how exhausted she was. “Is that okay?”

  He wanted her to stay here, with him, entertaining him with her quip remarks and dazzling smile. Couldn’t he see that she was pulling away before things got out of hand? At least she had her brain in place. “The bedroom is down the hall, last door on the right. I’ll show you.”

  Although it felt a lot like he’d been slugged with a crowbar, she didn’t appear to have any problem with getting away from him. He’d made a promise to himself earlier that he’d keep his hands off her, and nothing changed except that he failed miserably. His brothers were going to kill him. He was falling in lust with a client, that wasn’t really a client, and yet she was. What else could he call her? Trouble?

  He hoped at least his brothers took pity on him, showed him some mercy from his lack of thought because, heaven forbid, his libido certainly wasn’t showing any.

  There was a hint of amusement in her eyes. “You going to show me where it is?”

  She was going to think he was a blubbering idiot. What happened to all his charm and smooth talk? Lost the second she looked at him with a heart-wrenching expression. “Yes. Of course.” They reached for her bag at the same time and she snatched her hand back as if he’d burnt her. He wasn’t about to let her carry it, not this time. He needed to do something with his hands to keep from touching her.

  “I’ll let you get that because it seems it’ll make you feel better.” She gave him a half smile.

  “Hey, it might not have seemed apparent at first, but I know how to be a gentleman.” He winked.

  “Oh, I think there are many things you’re skilled at.”

  “Thank you.” He didn’t stick around because he was more tempted than ever to plant a kiss on her beautiful, pouty lips. He started down the hallway, stopped at the last door and flipped on the light. “It’s nothing luxurious, but it’s warm and cozy. The bathroom’s connected. The mattress is amazing. No squeaking.” He should have stopped at cozy, but no, leave it to him to talk himself into another erection. The mere mention of a mattress fabricated images of them lying naked together…

  “Is that all you ever think about?” She looked at him as if she could see straight into every naughty thought he’d imagined over the last few hours. He felt vulnerable.

  “I have no clue what you’re referring to.” Yeah, pretend innocence.

  She dropped her gaze to his zipper, then back to his face. “Then you just walk around with that all day?”

  He laughed. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

  *****

  She stepped into the room and stopped. “Wait, this isn’t the guest room.” From the king- sized bed, the masculine looking furniture, the worn cowboy boots by the closet, and the Stetson hanging on the hook, it screamed Penn’s space.

  He shrugged. “You should have the best room. You’re the guest.”

  “I can’t take your bed.”

  “Yes, you can. I’ll sleep upstairs. It’s a small, lumpy bed. You’d thank me if you knew.”

  “I don’t mind lumpy.”

  “Stop arguing with me or I’m going to begin to believe you get enjoyment out of it.”

  She opened her mouth, but clamped it shut. “Don’t complain to me tomorrow if you’re back is hurting.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  LONG AFTER PENN had left her alone in the bedroom, Harley was sitting on the end of the bed, trying to gather all her thoughts over what happened. Whatever it was, it seemed more like a romantic suspense novel than reality—at least not her reality. Nearing thirty, she’d never had her body working overtime. Her life hadn’t ever been complicated or anything but average, she guessed, until she’d met Marshall. Sure, he’d been older than her by twenty years, but he’d been interesting, established, and seemed to have the same interests. And when he’d offered to give her the loan, a small voice in the back of her head warned her to not fall for that trap, but this had been her dream since she could remember. All through college, all the tables she’d waitressed, saving enough money to put toward her dream to have a book heaven. She’d always wanted a small café with a bookstore where people could come and live another life through a story. Growing up that was what she’d loved to do herself. She’d found hours and hours of relaxation and promise within the pages of some of her favorite novels. It had been the best therapy for her when she’d wanted—needed—to speak to her mother. The time she’d started her period, broken up with her first boyfriend, lost her virginity, and found a knot in her breast. Seeing her friends spending time with their mothers had been the hardest.

  Little did she know that when she accepted the money from Marshall, she was making a deal with the devil. She would never have agreed to it if she’d known what he’d turn out to be.

  She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, ridding herself of the disparaging thoughts.

  Theodore jumped on the bed, nuzzled against her, then curled up on the colorful blanket, making himself at home. “It is comfortable, isn’t it, Theo?”

  He meowed in response.

&
nbsp; She examined the room and tiny tingles burst inside of her chest. It was exactly as she would have imagined for a man like Penn. Simple, comfortable, and tidy. What she didn’t expect was the row of candles lining the top of the dresser. Apparently for when he was entertaining Seneca—or Saucy. She chuckled, but she couldn’t quite ignore the ache in the pit of her stomach. She sniffed loudly. She wouldn’t waste her time thinking about it. Instead she used the lighter and lit the candles. She could use some relaxation.

  Rummaging through her bag, she grabbed her T-shirt and headed into the bathroom. Once she crossed the threshold she was met with a musk, leather scent—Penn’s scent. She liked it a little more than she should.

  She scanned the row of bottles—shampoo, body wash, shaving cream—bringing one to her nose and taking in the masculine scent. Replacing it, she touched a comb and smiled. Penn had a thick mane of hair. Clean towels were folded and stacked on another shelf.

  Checking herself in the mirror, she examined the cut on her head and trembled. She remembered how good his touch felt on her skin. With that thought, she stripped off her clothes, dropped them onto the tiled floor and started to reach for the shirt when her gaze naturally fell on the tub. Penn had good tastes. The large, whirlpool invited her to soak. She looked at the closed door, then back to the tub, nibbling her bottom lip. Her body could use a water massage.

  Would Penn mind if she treated herself to a bath? He did tell her to make herself at home. Did any host really mean that though? Especially one that got wrangled into having her as a guest.

  She laughed. Why was she being so silly? It was a simple bath. Of course he wouldn’t care if she indulged herself a bit. A long soak would certainly help her sleep better.

  Turning on the water, she let it run and stepped in, feeling herself relax as she submerged her body into the warm, steamy water that reminded her of being held in Penn’s strong embrace. She leaned back and the water caressed her breasts, making her nipples tingle, but it was probably more because she imagined Penn suckling that part of her.