Chapter 7
Monty
“You bought a cow?” Walker—the man I’ve just been introduced to—stares at the animal in the back of his pickup truck, hands firmly on his hips before shaking his head. “She bought a fucking cow.”
Despite his cursing, Walker seems less upset and more resigned about the new addition to the farm.
I’m not even sure how I ended up at the Darlings’ farm tonight, except I wasn’t letting Penny drive off somewhere with Eli Davis, the former hockey player who looks like he walked out of the pages of some fashion magazine.
When we arrived, Walker was sitting on the big house’s front porch. At the sight of our cars, he ambled down the steps.
Now, Penny taps her fingers against one another in giddy anticipation. “Ask Tally the cow’s name.”
Walker looks toward us, then back to his girlfriend, who is wearing a doe-eyed smile. “Ah, hell, Wildflower. What did you name him?”
Tally beams at her new pet. “First of all, she’s a she. And her name is Daisy Darling.”
“And where’s Daisy going to stay?” Walker asks with a sigh. “We don’t have fences, or any sort of pen.”
“She can’t sleep outside!” Tally exclaims. “She’s a baby!”
Walker glances toward Eli and me, then back at Tally. “You don’t really think that heifer is sleeping in the cottage with us, do you?”
“Don’t call her a heifer,” Tally hisses. “You’ll give her a complex.”
Penny snorts and then angles herself into my chest as she full-on belly laughs against me, trying to stop anyone else from hearing her.
I’m taken aback by the easy affection between us. So much so that I don’t immediately react, and only stare down at Penny in wonder. But when she looks up at me, a big smile on her face, I wrap my arm around her and shake my head. “Your sister’s fucking with him, right?”
Penny shrugs and practically chokes on another laugh. “Maybe only half.” Then she pulls herself together, and out of my arms. I flex my hands to stop from reaching for her again.
“I’ll help you build a fence tomorrow,” Eli offers.
Walker shakes his head as he leans down to gingerly pick up Daisy. “Fine, she can stay with us for the night,” he says to Tally before tipping his chin toward me. “It was nice to meet you properly. Hopefully we can grab a beer when I don’t have a cow to tend to.”
I chuckle. “Sounds good.”
“Need a ride home?” Eli asks Penny.
“I can drive you,” I cut in.
Penny’s copper eyes find mine in the moonlight. “That’d be great, if you don’t mind,” she says softly.
“I don’t mind,” I murmur.
She gives me a soft smile and a little nod before turning back to Eli. “Thanks for the offer.”
Eli wraps Penny in a hug and I hear him whisper in her ear, “My other offer still stands.”
“Yeah, I think I’m all set,” she mumbles into him, glancing at me quickly before pulling back. “But thanks.”
He shrugs in response before turning to me. “Good to see you, Monty. Stop by the Ice Cream Barn this week. I’ll hook you up with an Eli special.”
I shake his hand and agree to do just that before he hops into his truck and disappears down the long gravel drive.
“Should I be nervous about the Eli special?” I ask Penny as we head for my car.
“I actually don’t know what it is”—she pauses to raise a brow—“and while all the ice cream there is delicious, I think I’d be a little nervous about an Eli special.”
I chuckle as I start the car. “You live above your store, right?”
“Yeah, there’s a one-bedroom apartment just above it and I was lucky enough to get a deal on leasing it when I opened the store.
” She looks toward me. “Dick and I had been looking for a house, but he never made the move down here.” She shakes her head like she’s embarrassed by that fact.
“I’m sure your life is far more glamorous in New York. ”
If she only knew. My life in New York is not what she’s imagining.
I steer the car back toward town. It’s mostly dark on these roads but, as we get closer to the old barn Rosie transformed into a brewery, its golden lights cast a glow over us both. Penny rolls down her window and the sound of a guitar slices across the quiet evening.
I glance at her. “You want to grab a drink?”
“Um, sure.” Her answer is hesitant but I try not to overthink it, turning the car into the parking lot. The last time I was here was the night I accidentally crashed the Spring Fling.
My stomach fizzes like a shaken soda bottle as we walk toward the barn door.
I quicken my pace so that I can grab it and then hold it as Penny passes inside.
For one quick second I get a whiff of vanilla and cinnamon so strong my mouth waters.
I’d been so focused on remembering the color of her eyes that I’d forgotten that fucking scent.
Penny always managed to smell like a warm apple pie on a cool fall day.
I’ve never met another person with that scent.
I follow Penny inside, where she sits on a stool at the end of the bar and starts giving Rosie a play-by-play of Walker’s reaction to the cow.
The bar is busy. As the guitarist finishes an Oasis song and takes a break, the sound of chatter rises.
I don’t recognize anyone, but give it a week and I’m sure I’ll be reacquainted with everyone.
“So he’s sleeping in the cottage with them?” I hear Rosie asking, tears rolling down her face.
“She,” Penny reprimands. “The cow is a she.”
Rosie snorts. “I swear your sister is the gift that just keeps on giving.” Rosie turns to me. “What are you having, Monty? First drink’s on me as a welcome home treat.”
“Thanks, I’ll have a beer.”
Rosie rolls her eyes. “We’re a brewery. What kind of beer do you want?”
I glance at the black chalkboard that hangs against the white shiplap wall. One flavored beer after another is neatly listed in yellow handwriting.
“Get the cider,” Penny says. “Rosie uses apples she grows on the trees out back.”
I raise an impressed brow and nod. “I’ll do that, then.”
Rosie gets our drinks and then disappears to take care of another customer. Then it’s just Penny and me again.
After what is quite possibly one of the strangest days ever, it wouldn’t be surprising if she curls in on herself and stays quiet. But that doesn’t happen.
“So, are you moving back to town?” she asks. When she turns to face me, I realize how close we’re sitting. The copper of her eyes turns to honey under the low lighting from above and my gaze dips to the scattering of freckles on her cheeks, which are so much more apparent this close.
Freckles that I now know don’t stop at her neckline. Freckles that dance over her ivory skin and circle her pale pink nipples.
I shift my stool back and try to discreetly adjust myself before taking a sip of cider. The crisp flavor of apples with a hint of orange hits my tongue with a burst. Penny takes her own sip and now I know exactly what her mouth would taste like.
She’s staring at me expectantly and I remember she asked me a question. “Um, yeah, for the time being at least.”
“Why?”
I stare into those perfect copper irises and insecurity races up my spine. I sit straighter as I say, “It’s not easy being an author.”
I’m not good at facing up to the fact I didn’t make it doing the thing I was passionate about. Chasing my dreams didn’t exactly pan out the way I thought it would and now I’m back here, in this little town, with my tail between my legs hoping I can remember how to write again.
“No, I don’t suppose it is,” Penny replies. “But it’s damn impressive. You’re a New York Times bestselling author. You were on the Today show.”
There’s so much pride in her voice. There was a time I was proud of that, too. Now I know it’s all fleeting.
“The higher you climb”—I turn to study her—“the harder you fall.”
“At least you climbed.” Penny glances down at her drink. “I’m still here, ten years later, exactly where you left me.”
“You own your own bookstore, Penny. Eighteen-year-old you would be so proud.”
“I’m just having an off day.” She sighs. “Ignore me.”
Impossible. I offer her a smile. “Hey, at least you look good doing it.”
“Are you referring to what you saw earlier?!” Her eyes widen in surprise as she coughs out a laugh. “Jacob Montgomery! The mouth on you.”
My grin widens and I shrug as her laughter peters out.
“I’m not even sure that was the most embarrassing part of my day.” Penny sighs again. “Not only did I end up naked in your room—and your father saw me—but, as you know, I’m so pathetic that Eli offered to be my fake boyfriend.”
I’m still thinking about all those freckles and curves, so it takes me a few seconds to catch up to her last words.
“You’re not pathetic, Penny.”
She coughs out a laugh. “Were you there tonight? The candles, the peni, the cleanse.” Her eyes grow more animated with each word at the same time her hand movements become wilder.
The fact that I somehow forgot about the weird blue dildo thing is a testament to how distracted I’ve been by those damn freckles scattered across her very ample cleavage, and the dips and valleys of skin I’d be smart to avoid, even though my eyes keep flicking between there and her magic eyes.
“The Liberty Ladies are obsessed with finding me a match. All because my ex ended our engagement when I wouldn’t close my store and follow him to California.
Like they expect me to be heartbroken over Dick.
That’s the most pathetic part about all this.
They shouldn’t feel bad for me because I’m alone; they should feel bad because I was ever with him.
” Penny rolls her eyes and grabs a piece of the napkin from beneath her drink, tearing at the damp tissue.
“It’s exhausting telling everyone I’m fine alone.
” Her gaze flicks to me quickly, then she shifts and grabs another piece of the napkin.
I rest my hand over hers. “You’re not pathetic for letting go of a relationship that wasn’t serving you.”
“Thank you,” she says quietly before pulling her hand back and settling it in her lap.
“I think it’s our age,” I continue, trying to ignore the sting of her creating distance between us.
“Everyone expects us to have figured it all out by now. My roommate just got engaged to a girl he met six months ago. They’re already planning on trying for kids next year.
” I scoff. “I don’t even know what I’m doing next week. ”
Penny’s eyes soften. “Apparently moving in with your vovo.”
I chuckle. “Touché.”
I grab my drink and raise it to her in cheers. She taps her glass against mine and hums after taking a sip. “Are you writing while you’re here?”
“Supposed to be. I owe my agent some words but I’m having a hard time finding them.”
The lines around Penny’s eyes turn severe. “Writer’s block?”
Panic grips my heart and I bring my hand to my chest to ease the ache. “You don’t say it.”
She shrinks back. “Sorry.”
I shake my head and focus on the cider. Then after a few seconds, I shrug. “Not your fault my last book bombed. Or the one before that.”
“No, that’d probably be your main male character’s fault,” she mutters. I stare at her in surprise. She’s like a doe in headlights. “Sorry, what? I didn’t mean—” She shakes her head and then covers her face. “Just ignore me.”
“No, please elaborate on how my characters are flawed, in your opinion.”
She winces. “Seriously, just forget what I said.”
Well, now I’m curious. What I believed was maybe a throwaway comment is clearly so much more. She’s thought about this. It’s obvious in her demeanor.
Armor on, I place my hand over hers again, stopping her from picking at the remnants of her napkin. When I squeeze, her eyes jump to mine. “Please. You’ve obviously thought about this a time or two. Tell me what’s wrong with my books?”