21. Lake
21
LAKE
“ A ren’t you supposed to be at work?” Pen mumbles, her face wedged between the pillow and my shoulder.
“I called out.”
Lifting her head, she blinks at me, her hair falling into her eyes. “You did?”
I brush the strands back gently. “I know the boss,” I tease, and her lips curve up on one side. “The mountain of snow we got overnight didn’t hurt either.”
“Way to make a girl feel good,” she says with a roll of her eyes as she flops down on top of me, her breasts warm and firm against my chest.
“I’m pretty sure I made you feel good a lot last night,” I murmur as I wrap my arms around her.
She blushes and it has my cock more than a little excited because last night had been amazing. Things had started out plenty sweet, but they’d gotten wild before long.
“It was amazing.”
I hold her tighter, her admission filling me with relief and joy knowing she feels it too.
“I want to take you somewhere today. There’s no rush, maybe after breakfast?”
“Is it a surprise?”
“Kind of.”
“All right,” she says, looking up, “you’re on.”
Apparently, you’re on included shower sex, breakfast, and an enthusiastic blow job in the kitchen. My knees had damn near buckled under me, and I’d had to brace my hand on the edge of the counter, my knuckles turning white seeing her with my cock between her lips.
I’ll definitely be returning the favor, but it will have to wait.
Instead, I lead her outside after donning all our winter gear and hand her a helmet.
“You going to let me drive?” she asks, her lips twitching as she steps up to the snowmobile and brushes her hand across the seat.
“You don’t know where we’re going.”
“You could tell me.”
Throwing my leg over the seat, I shake my head. “Maybe later…if you’re good.”
“Like in the kitchen?” she asks innocently, settling herself behind me like we used to do growing up.
I snort even though she can’t hear me. “Sure, let’s go with the kitchen.” She squeezes her arms around me, and I nod. “Ready?”
“Go!”
Gunning it, I laugh as she clings to me tighter, the wind whipping past us as I take off across the open field. She squeals and my heart feels like it’s going to explode in my chest.
It’s us but it’s grown-up us and I can’t help how much I like this version too.
Following the path I know by heart, I race over the hills and through a copse of trees before slowing down and taking us the last half mile toward our destination. I could easily fly down to the house, but I want her to see where we are—to recognize it on her own.
And it doesn’t take long as one arm grips me tight as the other points to her grandmother’s cabin.
Parking the snowmobile in my usual spot, I turn the key and wait for Pen to climb off, her hair a wild mess after being inside the helmet.
“This is how you get here?” she asks with a tone I can’t quite read.
I stand and join her, tucking my helmet under my arm. “Not always, but I wanted to make sure I could get here if the roads were bad.”
“But how…” Her words trail off, a myriad of emotions crossing her face before she turns and trudges through the snow toward the porch. “Oma?”
“How are my two favorite people this”—Oma pretends to check her watch, her arms and hands covered by her coat and gloves—“afternoon?”
“I told you I’d take care of the wood,” I say pointedly at the older woman who grins like the cat who ate the canary.
“It must be my memory,” she says innocently and I roll my eyes, handing my helmet to Pen.
“Take her inside,” I grumble, earning narrowed eyes from both women, “ please. ”
Cackling, Oma leads Pen into the house, leaving me to grab the shovel from the porch and get to work.
PEN
“You didn’t tell me it was the Sterlings that bought the land from you,” I say when the door closes behind me.
Oma places the wood in her arms on the stack by the woodstove and raises a single brow at me. “I didn’t think it was relevant to the story.”
I set our helmets on the coffee table and pull off my gloves.
“Was I the only one that didn’t know?”
“Penelope Renee,” she huffs, her tone exasperated as she stares at me, “what is the real problem?”
“I don’t like feeling like my whole life is one damn handout!” I yell, my words startling us both as my eyes fill with tears.
“Come have some bourbon.”
“What about tea?”
“You can put the bourbon in the tea.” She motions toward the chair. “Now sit.”
“I’m sorry.”
She waves me away. “You’re allowed to have feelings, Penelope; it’d just be helpful if you’d tell me what those feelings actually are.”
“I haven’t been able to get a single professional contact from my old life to even say hello to me, let alone give me an interview. Carter is blocking me at every turn.”
“I told you I never liked him.”
I roll my eyes. “That doesn’t change the fact that I can’t get anyone to call me back. Add to that the fact that Winston and Elora paid Carter’s parents to leave Wintervale and then finding out that they also acquired the land here and—” I wave my hand around as Oma sets the steaming mug in front of me. “It feels like I can’t seem to stand on my own.”
“Do you even want to be in accounting?”
I open my mouth and then close it because I can’t add anything else to my mental load, and a massive career change would topple the small amount of stability I’ve gained.
Right?
“It’s what I went to school for and I’m good at it.”
“But do you like it?” she asks pointedly before adding, “No one wants to start over, Pen, but if ever there was a time, this would be it.”
“And the Sterlings?” I ask instead.
“Winston came and talked to me after all hell broke loose, said he didn’t want them hassling us and would it be all right if he motivated them to head on out. I offered to pay and he wouldn’t hear it.” She shrugs. “He loved you like a daughter before he ever really knew you, Pen. The man has a big heart and so does his son.” She hums. “All of them as a matter of fact. Beau, Jess, Wren, and even Reid stop by to see me.”
My eyes well with tears, the information too much to process right now.
“I didn’t plan on crying today.”
“The hardest thing we have to do is let people love us, Pen.” Nodding toward the front where the sound of a shovel scrapes against the driveway, she says, “That boy’s been trying to love you his whole life.”
“Ugh, that’s not helpful,” I groan and she laughs as I scrub my face with my hands.
“Drink the bourbon. Lunch will be ready soon and then you can tell me all the ways that boy was not the reason you two were late getting here.”
“Oma!” I gape at her but she waves me off, laughing as the oven beeps and the front door opens.
What in the world have I gotten myself into?