Chapter 9
LORI SHOULDN’T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED at the barrage of questions Penny threw at Malcom. She was surprised, though, at the way a grown woman was acting so ridiculous, because some of what she said was completely intrusive.
“He’s a workaholic, Lori,” Penny said, as her wineglass was filled for the second time. “Both brothers are. My sister had to retrain her husband to even take a vacation.”
Bronson chuckled and lifted his glass in a mock toast. “And look at me now. I don’t even have my phone on me tonight.”
Penny grinned. “You’re such an inspiration.” In the next second, she was practically glowering at Lori. “Now, what is it you do?”
Lori had already told her once. Was this some sort of strategy to intimidate her?
“She owns the shop across from the worksite, as she already told you,” Malcom said. “Now, anyone hungry? This looks good.”
“You’re already letting him speak for you?” Penny asked, laughing as if she was trying to make it seem she was being funny.
Lori gave her a tight smile and turned her attention to her plate. The chicken parmesan and asparagus did look great. She took a bite.
“What do you think?” Malcom asked.
“About the food or . . .”
“The food,” he said with a chuckle. Then he sobered. “Sorry about all the questions. I think Penny has outdone herself.”
Lori set her hand over his and squeezed, mostly for Penny’s benefit. She was watching them from across the table. “So it’s all smooth sailing from here?”
Malcom’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “If only we could be so lucky.”
They continued to eat and chat, and eventually Penny’s focus shifted once again to Doug. It didn’t take too much analysis to see that the way she was speaking about the company was bothering Malcom. Did they not have management meetings to get on the same page with each other?
The MC tapped the microphone, then began to speak at the podium in front of the room, and for the next thirty minutes, awards and accolades were announced. Bronson, Malcom, Penny, and Kari all went to the front of the room to receive their award. A photographer stopped them on the way back for pictures, and Penny wedged herself right next to Malcom.
Lori had to force herself not to laugh at his expression. He was truly uncomfortable, and it wasn’t funny. Well, only a little funny. Regardless, she was glad she could come tonight and help him out. She couldn’t remember a time when a non-date had actually been so fun, let alone a real date.
Lori ate a couple bites of dessert—raspberry cheesecake—as she waited for Malcom to return. Penny held on to his arm, drilling him with questions, her smile tight.
Malcom’s shoulders were tense, and he looked like he’d rather be anywhere else than talking to her.
Lori looked over at Bronson, who’d just returned to the table and sat down with Kari. They set the glass trophy between their place settings, admiring it. Didn’t Bronson see what was going on with his stepbrother? How bothered Malcom was? Did he not care?
Not that Lori was a family-dynamic expert. She didn’t have any siblings—let alone jealous or vindictive ones. Because Lori had decided that Bronson must be one or the other, or even both. Were high school sports really so important as to divide two brothers?
“Hey,” Malcom said, standing next to her. “Want to go check out the silent auction?”
Lori stood immediately. “Sure.”
He grasped her hand, leading her to the row of tables where a few people milled about, putting in their bids while the MC continued with the program.
“Congrats on your award,” she said.
Malcom nodded.
“Looks like you got some good photos,” she continued.
He looked at her then, his expression amused. “Depends on your standard for good photos.”
Lori smiled, and his mouth lifted. At least this was something he could smile about. “Was she so awful?”
“Worse.” He squeezed her hand. “Have I thanked you for coming?”
“You have.”
They continued browsing the auction items. “Spa day for two?” she teased.
“Sign us up.”
“It would mean a second date, or a second non-date.”
Malcom picked up the pen and wrote down both of their names on the next line, then he put in parenthesis: Call me at this number . . .
“We’re not staying all night?”
He chuckled. “We can if you want.”
Lori glanced over at the table with his brother and the others. Penny hadn’t touched her dessert, and although she seemed to be talking to her sister, her eyes were definitely on Malcom.
“Not unless there’s second dessert.”
“Now you’re talking,” he said in a low voice. “I like a woman who doesn’t skip dessert.”
Lori raised her brows. “Now whose standards are low?”
He only grinned.
Applause broke out for the end of whatever the MC had said, and the music started again. They continued down the line of tables, and Malcom signed up for two more things. Lori bid on a book basket.
“We should dance,” Malcom said. “You know, solidify our date, then get out of here.”
“You’re so romantic,” she said with a laugh.
He led her to the dance floor, where a few other couples had started dancing.
“Is she watching us?” Lori asked as she moved into his arms.
His hold was loose, one hand resting lightly at her waist, the other hand clasping hers.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Probably.”
Lori kind of liked that his eyes were trained on her. “What was she asking when you walked back from the stage?”
“Oh.” Malcom blinked. “She wanted to know how long we’d been seeing each other.”
“What did you tell her?”
“Three weeks—because that’s technically true. We met three weeks ago. She also said it was cute to see me in a fling. Then she said that if I wanted to have a more substantial date, I should have invited her. I pointed out that she was already invited. To which she said that she could tell you weren’t all that interested in me—and were probably in it for the free meal.”
Lori scoffed. “Wow, I don’t know if I should be offended or impressed. She totally nailed it. You did promise a good meal.”
“I did.” Malcom’s smile made her pulse jump around, or maybe it was how he pulled her a little closer.
He also slowed his movements, just a tad slower than the beat of the song. “How’s the dancing? Is it better than you expected?”
Lori laughed. “You’re a passable dancer. And you smell nice. Cologne?”
“Just my shower wash. You’re so full of compliments. I like it,” he teased. He drew her closer again, and she couldn’t help but close her eyes and relax into him with a smile.
His subtle scent was nice, and his arm around her was nice, and the bristle along his jaw was nice . . . well, everything about him was nice.
When the song ended and switched to a faster tune, Lori felt reluctant to stop dancing, even though her high heels were starting to pinch. She opened her eyes to find Malcom’s gaze intent on her.
“You totally had me convinced,” he said in that deep voice of his.
“About what?” she asked.
“That you’re actually enjoying this date—and not just because of the food.”
Lori tilted her head. “What’s not to enjoy? Even with Penny in the equation, you’re a good date—I mean, a good dancer. Because this isn’t a real date.”
Malcom just gazed at her for a few more seconds, not saying anything.
It wasn’t fair that he was so effortlessly handsome. His hazel eyes were mostly brown tonight, and dark stubble peppered his chin and jaw. Lori couldn’t really blame Penny for her obsession with him.
“Maybe we could hang out sometime, without my family as an audience,” Malcom said.
Lori’s heart thumped. “What did you have in mind?”
“You need to screen it beforehand?” he asked, his dimples appearing.
It wasn’t lost on her that she was still standing in his arms as the dancers moved around them. Both of his hands were at her waist as she rested her hands on his biceps. “Prescreening is a must for me.”
“Fair enough, I’ll come up with something you won’t be able to turn down.”
He released her then and slid a hand into hers. They walked back to the table to say their goodbyes, and Lori felt like she was walking an inch above the ground. Had Malcom just asked her out? Malcom had asked her out. Officially. Yeah, as friends, but there would be no trying to act fake around anyone.
Before they left the table, Penny said, “It was nice meeting you, Lori. Probably won’t see you again, so good luck with your little shop.”
Lori could only hope she wouldn’t see Penny again, but that would mean that she wouldn’t be around Malcom much, so she didn’t want to hope for that. “Good luck to you too,” she said with a wide smile.
Confusion marred Penny’s eyes, but her smile turned Cheshire.
Lori had never felt the need to compete over a man until tonight. It was ridiculous really, but Penny was bringing out the ridiculous in her. And Lori didn’t even know the woman, not really. Thankfully, they were leaving, and she could have Malcom all to herself. Well, not like that, but just being away from Penny would be great. For his sake, of course.
As they waited outside for the valet to bring Malcom’s truck, she thought he’d release her hand. But he didn’t, and Lori found that she didn’t mind.
Might as well see it through to the very end.
Again, he helped her into the truck, then he shrugged out of his jacket and set it in the back seat before he climbed into the driver’s side.
Lori slipped off her shoes to give her toes a break. “Do you think Penny bought it?”
Malcom pulled out of the parking lot. “I don’t see how she couldn’t. I mean, you’re pretty fabulous, and I think I did a decent job too.”
Lori laughed, even though a tiny part inside of her was aching. “You were fabulous too. Is she always so nasty, or was it just special treatment to me?”
“She’s very . . . clingy toward me,” Malcom said. “But I’ve never brought another woman around her, so this was a first.”
“Hmm.”
“But I believe we were convincing. Not only to Penny, but to my brother. He’s already texted me, asking if we’re serious.”
“In only a couple of weeks?” Lori asked, surprised.
“He means . . . well, he’s asking if we’re sleeping together in not so many words.”
“Oh.” Lori bit her lip. “That’s kind of bold—even for a brother to ask. Did you tell him it’s none of his business?”
“I’m not answering, period.” Malcom reached for her hand. “I’d never confess that sort of thing to him anyway. And even if this were a real date, I wouldn’t want to mess things up by racing to the finish line.”
Lori looked down at his hand holding hers. “Is that what the kids are calling it now?”
Malcom laughed and squeezed her hand. It felt like a squeeze to her heart.
“Your stepbrother seems nice enough, but I got kind of a strange vibe from him.”
“What’s that?” His voice was filled with worry.
“Like he’s competing with you,” Lori said. “I’m probably reading into things, just because of your concerns. So that might have biased me.”
“Maybe, or maybe not.”
They continued to drive in silence for several moments, and Lori wondered if his holding her hand was left over from their fake date, or if it was something more. He had asked her out—although there were currently no plans.
As they merged onto the highway, his thumb traced over her skin. “Is this okay?” he asked in a soft voice.
“Yes,” she said, because it was, although she had some questions. “Are we still on a fake date?”
“It wasn’t completely fake.” He glanced over at her. “I like you, Lori. I mean, I know that I don’t have time to date, and you don’t want to date, but that doesn’t change the fact that I like you.”
Lori’s heart felt like it had climbed into her throat. “I like you too,” she said simply, “and I don’t mind the hand-holding, but the other stuff . . . you know, that would be way beyond friends hanging out.”
“The other stuff?” he asked. “Oh, you mean, like kissing?”
She had to laugh. “Yeah, kissing. That kind of stuff turns things into a relationship. Which neither of us wants.”
“Right,” Malcom said. “Good boundary.”
“Can you live with it?” Lori teased.
“I’ll try.”
His low voice resonated through her, but she decided to ignore the racing of her pulse. Malcom would be moving on in a few months, and Lori wasn’t going to follow after any man. She had her store, and she was happy with living in her small corner of life.
When Malcom came to a stop in front of her shop, he opened her door again. Then he walked her to the front door.
She unlocked it, then turned. “Thanks for dinner. And I hope the night was all it needed to be.”
Malcom stood a couple of feet away, hands in his pockets, as the breeze ruffled his hair and shirt. “It was more. Thanks, Lori.”
“No problem.”
He stepped close and lifted a hand to her cheek, then he pressed a kiss on her other cheek. Before she could absorb what he was doing, he’d stepped back, restoring the space between them.