Chapter 29 Unspoken
Unspoken
While waiting for Lucia to show up, Penelope decided to vacuum her floors. Not that they needed it, but it burned off some restless energy, even if Fuller had released a scandalized meow and escaped to her bedroom.
She’d made the right decision, stepping away, but she couldn’t help but worry about Lucia. She also wondered why Francesca had even discussed her new plan with Penelope present after she’d declared an end to their association.
Perhaps this was a sort of mind game to get her back in? But for what?
The doorbell rang right after she’d stowed the vacuum and washed her hands.
She almost ran to the door, flinging it open with a smile that wilted when instead of Lucia, a delivery man pushed a package into her hands.
“Thanks,” she said by the time he was already halfway back to his truck.
With a sigh, she shut the door and placed the package on the console table. Just her overpriced chocolate, no emotional payoff inside.
Her phone beeping interrupted her spiraling thoughts, full of questions with no answers.
Hey. I’m on my way. Want me to pick up something to eat? I’m actually craving tacos, but I can get whatever you want, too.
Tacos sound good, thank you. Make sure they are spicy.
LOL. Will do.
And so Penelope stood in her entrance hall, grinning like an idiot over an art forger and tacos.
She reread the messages, thumb hovering over the screen longer than necessary. The smallest effort, the smallest reach, and it undid her.
Ridiculous.
She glanced at her watch and headed for the bathroom to take a quick shower.
By the time Lucia arrived, Penelope had rediscovered (most of) her equilibrium, and she ushered her inside so they could settle at the table and eat.
She’d brewed a pot of herbal tea but also put water and soda on the table.
“How did it go with Skye?” Penelope asked after almost devouring the first half of her food.
“Hmm, better than expected.” Lucia wiped her hands on a napkin. “We cleared the air.”
“No more ‘Gracie’ and other goading?”
“We’ll see. It’s still Skye we’re talking about, but yeah. I’m hopeful.”
“Is that a general attitude?”
“Being hopeful?”
Penelope nodded.
“Yeah. I think so. You’d be surprised, given my background.” She shrugged. “I got lucky, definitely, but it’s also my temperament. My emotions may spike and all, but I tend to overall be pretty balanced.”
“That’s wonderful. You’re indeed lucky.”
“Right now, especially.”
Penelope ducked her head. What’s wrong with you?
“Hey.” Lucia clasped Penelope’s hand. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
“No, no, you didn’t.” She sighed, finding Lucia’s warm gaze. “I’m feeling a bit…off kilter currently.”
“I bet. What you found out with your dad, that’s rough. Do you wanna talk about it?”
“Not really. I mean, what’s there to discuss?”
“Whatever you wish. Like, are you sure he was in on it? And of his own free will?”
“What?” She let out a short laugh without a trace of humor. “Someone forced him?”
Lucia shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“I suppose, but I don’t know. It’s not ironclad, is it? But I know my father, and what I’ve seen… It wasn’t him being careless. And, you know, if something happens once or twice, yes, it could be an accident or a coincidence, but it was a pattern.”
“Yeah. That’s harder to dismiss.”
A moment of quiet settled between them.
“So,” Lucia said. “I wanted to apologize again for…dropping the ball, I guess.”
“It’s fine.”
“I’m glad you’re not holding a grudge, but I’d still like to explain.”
Warmth rushed through Penelope at Lucia’s earnest expression. “Go ahead.”
“Right. It all just happened too fast. They had guns! I was still riding on an adrenaline high, and then out of nowhere…” She shook her head.
“That sounds scary.”
“Yeah, though I didn’t register that right away. Like I saw the gun, right, but I was more focused on keeping the Madonna.”
“Lucia, that’s your life!”
A rueful smile crossed Lucia’s lips. “Yeah. Skye bitched about that. She told me to hand it over, asking if I wanted to die for it.”
“I suppose there’s something to be said for her after all.”
“She’s not that bad,” Lucia said with a chuckle. “Well, you know… Maybe an acquired taste.”
“You’re the expert.”
Lucia’s smile slipped. “There’s nothing between us.”
“What?”
“Between me and Skye, well, besides ancient history, and apparently I’m a tank.”
Penelope wrinkled her brow. “Again, what?”
“Sorry, never mind. Just…I wanted you to know there’s nothing going on between me and Skye. In case you wondered.”
“I didn’t, but thank you.” Penelope smiled. “I just don’t care for the way she treats you, but you don’t need me to fight your battles.”
“No, I don’t. But…you could hold my hand?”
“That can be arranged.”
Lucia’s answering smile was arresting.
“Besides, we’re grown women. I assume we both have a past,” Penelope said.
“True. What about you? Any exes we might run into?”
“Not really. It’s been a while.” Penelope frowned. “Huh. It’s been longer than I realized. And I hope you won’t run into my ex.”
“Why? I’m not the jealous type, and if you dated her, she can’t be all bad.”
Penelope let out a small laugh. “That’s a good line.”
“It’s not. A line, I mean. I’m serious.”
“You’re sweet.”
Lucia ducked her head.
“No, Camille is a detective with the Atlanta police.”
“Oh. Yeah. Let’s not meet.”
“Agreed.”
“Do you want to move this to the couch? Can I offer you a glass of wine, maybe? That is, if you’re staying a bit longer.” Penelope asked.
“Sure. And I’d love to. I’m not picky about wine, so if you already have one open, I’m good with that.”
“Even if it’s a Barolo?”
“While I drink all kinds of wine, that doesn’t mean I know a lot of them, much to Francesca’s exasperation. Never mind that she rarely even drinks alcohol.”
“She might be especially frustrated you don’t know this one. It’s Italian.”
“Then let this be our little secret.”
“Another secret?” Penelope asked.
Lucia shrugged. “We can handle it.”
“You’re something,” Penelope said, rising to her feet. “To enlighten your philistine sensibilities, the Barolo is a full-bodied, bone-dry red wine.”
“Ah, I see. Yeah. That’s fine. I have something sweet in mind for later, if you’re up for it.”
Penelope gave a short laugh. “Now that’s a terrible line. Does it usually work for you?”
“I don’t know. It’s my first time using it.” Lucia’s gaze roamed over Penelope. “I’m hoping I’ll find out tonight.”
“I’m sure you are.” She cleared her throat. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. I’ll get the wine.”
Resisting the impulse to pour cold water on her face, Penelope filled two glasses with deep red liquid and brought them to the living room.
She toed off her sandals, digging her feet into the soft plush of the carpet before settling right next to Lucia, handing her a glass.
“Thank you.”
Penelope watched Lucia drink the first sip, how she held the wine in her mouth for a beat before swallowing. Her gaze lingered at Lucia’s throat. She bit her cheek, willing herself to stay grounded.
“It’s delicious,” Lucia rasped.
Shifting in her seat, Penelope took a sip from her glass to steady herself. “Mmhmm.”
“All flirtation aside.” Lucia grasped Penelope’s free hand. “I feel like… So, I’d like to know where we stand. That is, I’m not into second-guessing or making assumptions.”
“OK.”
“This thing between us, what is it to you?”
Holding Lucia’s gaze, Penelope placed her glass on the coffee table. “You really like asking the hard questions, but since you’ve had the courage to bring it up… I like you.” Pathetic. Next she’d be passing Lucia a note with checkboxes for yes, no, or maybe.
“I like you, too.” Lucia looked at her with a sober, serious expression. She wasn’t making fun of her or teasing Penelope about her awkwardness.
“I guess that’s good, that we like each other.”
Lucia smiled. “Yes, I’d say. It’s been a while since I’ve…connected with someone.”
“Is that a euphemism for sex?”
Laughing, Lucia put her glass down as well. “No. It’s not been a while for that, well, in comparison.”
“Noted.”
“I just… Do you want this to be more than just sex?”
“We’ve only had sex once.”
“Yes, but this tension. I’m not imagining it, am I?”
Penelope huffed. “No.”
“But?”
“I’m just not good at this.”
“At sex?”
Penelope nudged Lucia’s shoulders. “At all this,” she gestured between them, “and everything it entails.”
“I don’t know. Not like I have a string of successes to showcase either.”
“You’re also ten years younger.”
“Is that a problem?”
“The age difference itself? Not to me, no.”
“Good. It’s not to me either.” After a beat. “So?”
Penelope gritted her teeth. She didn’t know how to deal with Lucia’s openness, her willingness to bare herself and offer her heart on a platter.
“There’s no pressure. I can wait, or we can decide to just be friends. I don’t want to crowd you or—”
“Could you just be…kissing me now?”
Lucia stilled, lips parted.
Heat crept up Penelope’s neck.
I shouldn’t have said that.
Before she could take it back, Lucia’s fingers trailed down her cheek, and Penelope instinctively leaned into the touch.
Lucia closed the distance, and they sank into a slow, lingering kiss.
Need surged through Penelope, threaded with longing. She gripped Lucia’s upper arms, pulling her closer.
Their kiss deepened, and for a while, that was all they did—losing themselves in the heat and rhythm, the quiet tension of tongue and breath.
Lucia pulled back, pupils blown wide, breath ragged, smiling the terrible soft smile that always squeezed Penelope’s heart. “Bedroom?”
Penelope nodded and pulled her from the couch, leading her there.
She pushed Lucia onto the bed, thankful she’d thought to change the sheets earlier, and climbed after her, hovering.
“I dreamed about this,” Penelope whispered.
“Me in your bed again?”
“You beneath me. Naked.”
Lucia smirked. “I’m sure that can be arranged.”
Penelope leaned in and gently bit Lucia’s lower lip. Then, sitting astride Lucia’s hips, she pulled off her shirt.
“I like the way you think,” Lucia murmured, her hands trailing up Penelope’s torso to brush her fingers across her bra. “And this?”
“Still impatient, huh?”
“It’s not impatience.”
“No?”
“It’s desire.”
Lucia surged up, flipping them over in one swift motion. She straddled Penelope, peeling off her own shirt and bra before reaching for Penelope’s straps, sliding them down her shoulders. She slipped her fingers beneath the cups and dragged them down, brushing her thumbs over each nipple.
Penelope shivered.
They shed the rest of their clothing in hurried, half-dazed movements, urgency overtaking precision until there was nothing between them but heat and breath and kiss after kiss.
They laughed as they tumbled sideways, limbs tangling in the sheets until Penelope rolled them again, ending up on top.
She locked eyes with Lucia as she trailed her fingers lower—meandering from her cheek down her throat, dipping into the curve of Lucia’s clavicle before ghosting over her torso, over stiff peaks and down to a twitching belly.
Lucia’s breath hitched; she bit her lower lip, her gaze never leaving Penelope.
Lowering her head, Penelope hovered close, sharing the warmth between them without closing the gap. She studied Lucia’s face, needing to take in every microexpression as she dipped her fingers lower, trailing through soft curls before sinking into liquid heat.
Lucia gasped.
“I love how wet you get for me,” Penelope murmured, brushing their lips together for the fraction of a second before pulling back, entranced by the pleasure, the need visible on Lucia’s lovely features.
With her eyelids fluttering closed, Lucia’s rapid breathing heaved her chest. “God,” she ground out when Penelope seemed to hit a particularly sensitive spot.
Penelope’s fingers explored Lucia’s heat at a leisurely pace, avoiding her clit and only teasing at her entrance.
Lucia moaned and pressed her hips up, as if she sought more friction. “Pen,” she breathed. “Please.”
“Please what?” Penelope whispered.
“Touch me.”
Penelope smiled, slow and deliberate. “I am touching you.”
Sweat glistened on Lucia’s skin, and she restlessly shifted beneath Penelope, almost squirming.
“Inside,” she ground out, and Penelope followed suit, pressing two fingers into Lucia’s core, awash with heat at feeling Lucia so intimately.
“You feel amazing, so soft.”
“Kiss me.”
And Penelope did, once more losing herself in Lucia, in their heat and longing. She kept up the pace of her fingers, stroking in and out of Lucia before pulling out and seeking the straining nub farther up.
“Yes.” Lucia dug her fingers into Penelope’s back, hard, while gyrating her hips in the rhythm Penelope’s fingers set.
Penelope stroked Lucia’s clit in fast circles, increasing pressure at Lucia’s panted request, “Harder.”
She hadn’t expected to feel this much just from watching—but Lucia’s surrender pulled something deep from her. Watching Lucia shatter seemed the most urgent and dire need she had felt in a long time.
Lucia whimpered, and her body seemed to lock.
Penelope brushed her lips along Lucia’s ear, whispering, “Come for me.” Her voice rang rough, sounding almost foreign in her ears.
Lucia trembled, and her fingers scratched along Penelope’s back.
Captivated by Lucia’s abandon, Penelope could only stare in wonder as a hard climax rippled through Lucia, shaking her as an almost broken-sounding whine left her lips.
She’d never seen anything so raw, so real, and it shattered something quiet inside her, as if the space she’d confined herself in expanded and allowed her to breathe freer.