3. Pen
3
PEN
“ W here are we going?” I ask now that I have the circulation back in my toes. My engagement ring is in the cupholder of Beau’s truck and I have no intention of moving it.
Unless Carter wants it back—then he can have it.
I can’t imagine it means anything to him, not for sentimental reasons at least. The Haneses are new money, Carter’s father having hit it big in clean energy, shaking hands and kissing babies before it really took off. Some people here said he had insider information, but as far as I knew it was all talk. They’d let Carter graduate in Wintervale before moving to Bozeman, and I’d willingly followed him to the city for college.
We’d planned our life together.
New places.
New opportunities.
But none of it was me.
Carter’s mother was a different story. Siobhan Hanes acted like she was making up for lost time, getting her hands on all the invitations and attending the most lavish events. The whole thing made my skin feel too tight, my small-town roots unwilling to be buried beneath my designer clothes.
“My cabin,” Lake says, his truck bouncing over the road as we wind through the backwoods of Montana.
“Your cabin?” I ask, surprised, not because I don’t want to, but because I was never allowed. Lake never hid the fact that he didn’t like Carter, but Lake was also clear that he would never disrespect him by bringing me here.
“It’s not easy to find”—he chuckles—“and I have a feeling people will be looking.”
“Go ahead and say it,” I push. “Say I told you this was a bad idea, Pen.”
Sobering, Lake looks from me to the road and back again. “You just upended your entire life, Pen. There’s no I told you so. Whatever you decide is gonna be hard, and yeah, I was pissed at you for not taking the promotion, for letting him take that away from you. But you’re a big girl and you made a choice then.” He swallows hard, his voice softer when he says, “And you made a choice today.”
I blink the tears from my eyes, the fake eyelashes practically audible as I do. Turning in my seat, I take Lake’s hand in both of mine and lace our fingers together.
“Thanks for being my getaway driver.”
“There’s nothing that could happen that would stop me from getting to you, Pen.”
His words resonate through me, a little bit of the tension dissipating as we drive.
My life is a mess, but Lake’s loyalty and friendship have never wavered.
Pulling off the main road, I spy a mailbox as Lake navigates us down a long driveway. It’s lined by trees, the scene before me like a winter wonderland, leading into a clearing and the most perfect log cabin I’ve ever seen.
“You built this?” I breathe, sitting forward to stare at the house through the windshield. It’s idyllic with big windows and wraparound porch, the wood stained a rich cherry color.
It’s perfect.
“Yeah, everyone helped.”
Everyone except me.
The thought sends a twinge of hurt coursing through my veins and I release Lake’s hand, pretending to gather up the fabric of my dress as the truck comes to a stop.
“Pen.”
“Hmm?”
“It wasn’t right to have you here,” he says slowly, rubbing his hand over his mouth. “Hell, it still might not be, but you didn’t belong in another man’s house.”
“I get it, but I don’t, Lake. What would the harm have been with letting me paint a few boards?”
Draping his arm over the steering wheel, he stares at me. “You weren’t here, Pen. You moved with your boyfriend turned fiancé . You couldn’t be running home to me.”
I open my mouth to argue but he’s right. Carter and I were building a life, and how would he have felt about me leaving for any amount of time to be with another man?
Have I always felt this torn?
I don’t realize Lake is out of the truck until he opens the door for me and holds out his hand. I take it, trying to gather as much of the white material as I can, my heels sinking into the snow and gravel as we walk to the cabin. It’s not far, but Lake drapes his suit jacket over my shoulders, his cologne and the mountain air mixing to form the most alluring aphrodisiac— something I never noticed or maybe never allowed myself to notice.
The room is dark when he pushes the door open, ushering me inside before closing it behind him and flipping on the lights. I gasp, spinning in a slow circle as I take everything in. The workmanship is stunning. It’s amazing.
High ceilings and wooden beams make it the perfect rustic space and I’m in awe.
“Wow,” I breathe. “Lake, this is incredible.”
He doesn’t respond, but heat fills his cheeks as he rubs the back of his neck. “I’ll grab you some clothes, and Wren can bring you whatever else you need.” His gaze trails down my body, heat flashing in his eyes so fast that I would have missed it if I hadn’t been watching him. But I know what I saw.
“Lake,” I say slowly as I push his jacket off my shoulders and let it fall to the floor. His Adam’s apple bobs and I make sure he knows I see it before brushing my hair over one shoulder and turning my back to him. “I need you to help me with the zipper.”
Emotions swirl around us, but whether it’s from this being the first time I’m in his house alone with him or that I made a scene leaving my wedding, I don’t know.
“Pen.” His voice is rough and completely at odds with the way his hands shake as he finds the zipper and eases it down.
His breath is hot on my skin as my heart pounds in my chest.
I shouldn’t be feeling this way. I just left Carter at the altar.
But who was the one who got me out of there?
“All set.” The words are barely audible, and I hold up the dress with one hand as I turn back to face him.
“Thank you.”
“I need to start the fire.”
“Lake.” I move my gaze from where my palm lies flat against his chest to his eyes. They’re hooded, his lips parted as we stand there. “Thank you for today. For knowing I needed you.”
“Always.”
Going up on my tiptoes, I only mean to gently press my lips to his.
An expression of gratitude.
But the moment I do, a shiver races down my spine, like the most exhilarating sensation from that simple touch. I moan, my fingers gripping his shirt as I try to pull him tighter against me with all ninety-seven layers of my dress in the way. But I want more and he knows it, his hands gripping the back of my neck as I tilt my face and kiss him like I shouldn’t.
He kisses me back, grunting when I push my tongue into his mouth, wishing I could do this forever. He tastes delicious, like mint and everything I shouldn’t want on the day I was supposed to marry another man.
As if hearing my unspoken thoughts, Lake wrenches his mouth from mine, his eyes wild and his lips swollen.
I’ve never seen him look like this before.
I’ve never seen him look at me this way before.
“We can’t do that.” He takes a step away from me, the palm of his hand rubbing over the mouth I just kissed. “Jesus, Penelope, you were gonna marry someone else today.”
He used my name.
He never uses my name.
Exasperation pours out of him, and I can’t help the way I have to blink to hold back tears because he’s right. I was going to marry someone else today—someone who never made me light up as much as that one single kiss has.
It feels like I’m being hit from all sides.
My marriage.
My future.
My best friend.
That kiss.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, blinking harder as I stare at a spot on the floor. Lake growls, the sound doing nothing to calm my racing heart as he steps back into me, the side of his finger nudging my chin up until I’m forced to meet his gaze.
“I can’t kiss you when you’re wearing a dress for another man, Pen. I can’t.” He swallows hard. “You need time and I’m here for you, but I can’t be a guy you use to get over leaving your fiancé.”
…a guy you use to get over…
“You’re not…” My words die off when he presses his lips to my forehead like he’s begging me to stop talking.
“Baby, I can’t do this with you right now, please.”
It’s the please that has the fight draining from me as the entirety of the day washes over me. I ran out on Carter on our wedding day.
I don’t regret it.
Not at all.
But the absolute shitstorm I caused has my stomach in knots as I sag against Lake’s hard body.
“Let’s go get you some clothes,” he murmurs against my hair, and I nod, sure my makeup will be smeared against his crisp white shirt, but I can’t make myself care.
Because I realize the man I devoted the last decade of my life to isn’t the one I want to marry.
The one in front of me is.