Chapter 33
Monty
Friday morning I stand outside Penny’s store holding two thermoses filled with pumpkin spice latte and Penny’s favorite pastéis from Vovo.
Her shop is still closed at this time in the morning, so I shoot her a text to tell her I’m outside.
As I wait for her to come down, I bounce on my toes, fighting the chill in the air.
Now that it’s mid-October, the weather isn’t the only thing that’s changed in Hope Harbor.
The trees have officially lost their green and yellow hues and red and orange leaves litter the sidewalk.
Pumpkins and mums have replaced the early fall flowers that decorated almost every door, and fabric ghosts—most likely put there by Babs—dot a few of the trees that line Maple Lane’s cobblestone sidewalk, flying when the wind blows.
I’m so caught up in the beauty around me, I barely register the door swinging open until Penny is stepping out and motioning me in.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, smiling.
I step into the doorway and press a kiss to her cheek. It’s soft and warm, like she just got out of bed. “I thought you could do with a pumpkin spice latte with extra whipped cream and cinnamon.”
“My favorite,” she whispers, and I don’t know why but it sounds like her throat is clogged with emotion. “But what did I do to deserve an early morning delivery?”
“Looks like I’m not the only one who has something to learn when it comes to relationships, Xuxuzinho.” I grin at her. “Anyone worth your time should make at least this effort.”
She blinks and that’s when the first tear falls, followed quickly by a second. Fuck.
“Oh, Penny, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
I don’t want her to think I’m judging her past decisions when it comes to men; I just want her to know that she deserves more, and that I want to give her that for as long as I have the opportunity.
Hell, I want to do it for longer than that.
It’s what I want to talk to her about on our date.
My mom is coming tomorrow morning, and tomorrow night it’s the haunted hayride event at the Darlings’ farm, followed by the Books and Brews event Sunday, but after we get through all of that, I plan to take her out, wine and dine her, and then tell her how I’m feeling.
Like maybe this doesn’t have to end. Maybe I stay…forever.
I’m still scared I’m going to fuck it all up, that I’ll risk our friendship for a relationship that will fall apart, but I’m more scared that if I don’t, I’ll lose her anyway. I can’t bear the thought of someone else getting all the sweet and sexy and fun moments with Penny that belong to me.
Penny shakes her head and swipes at a stray tear tracking down her cheek before nodding for me to come inside.
“It’s not you.” She sighs. “I’m just emotional. You’re being sweet and I don’t have time to hang out and the store’s a mess—” She looks around and I notice all the boxes lying open on the floor. I also notice she’s still wearing the clothes she was in last night when I put her to bed.
“Penny,” I say, concern lacing my tone. “Did you get any sleep last night?”
She sighs and glances up at me, bleary eyed. “A little.”
I can’t help but reach for her, pulling her into my chest and hugging her tight.
“What’s going on?”
I can feel a pattern of soft little huffs against my chest as she tries to get her emotions under control.
“My computer broke and I have all this stock to manually track and we have the book event this weekend and I have all these books to ship and I don’t have anyone else that works with me and—”
“It’s going to be okay,” I say gently. “We’ll get this sorted.”
“What?” she mumbles against my chest.
“I’ll help you with the packaging and orders. There’s no need for you to do this all on your own.”
She pulls back and those beautiful copper eyes meet mine. “You’d do that?”
“Xuxuzinho, I’d do anything for you. You need to start expecting more. You deserve more.”
She sighs. “I know but we’re—”
I shake my head, not allowing her to finish the sentence.
I can’t handle her telling me we’re not real.
But I know this isn’t the moment to tell her how I feel.
She needs help. And rest. When I do tell her, I want to do it right.
I want to take her out. I want to show her how she deserves to be treated.
“Am I your friend?”
She shrugs. “Yes.”
“Then forget everything else right now. Let me be here for you. Let me help you with the store—just as you’ve helped me with the book.”
Her voice is soft, but so is her smile when she agrees. “Okay.”
It takes us hours to get all the new books Penny has stocked manually added to her store checkout. And another few to package all the online orders she’s received during the past few days.
I’m so proud of all that she’s done with this store.
She’s proud, too. I can hear it in her voice, the way she gets excited as she explains to me how she’s been using social media to drum up excitement for these books.
She tells me how she did the same thing for her family farm last spring and for Tally’s bakery.
Her sister can’t keep up with the amount of orders coming in.
I’m not sure Penny realizes how incredible she is but I try to tell her every few minutes.
As the hours go by, the color returns to her cheeks, as does a smile.
“I can’t believe we got all of this done,” she says as a glow settles over the store, the setting autumn sun leaving us in a dazzling haze.
She pushes up on her knees beside me. We decided to close the store for the day to get on top of everything.
“I couldn’t have done this without you.” A small smile plays on her lips as her eyes drop to my belt. “I need to show my appreciation.”
“Penny.” I shake my head. “Spending the day with you was more than enough for me.”
Those cheeks of hers go red, but instead of brushing me off, she leans in to kiss me. Just as our lips touch, her stomach makes a loud rumbling noise.
“I need to feed you,” I say, pulling back an inch.
She groans. “I don’t think I have anything here to make.”
“We’ll order something?” I suggest. “Or I can pick something up from the brewery?”
“Oooh, good idea. Rosie has a really good fall stew.”
“Perfect. Let’s go upstairs and get you settled on the couch. And then I can head out to pick up some dinner.”
She hums and holds out a hand as we head up the stairs. “You’re too good to me.”
I press a kiss to the top of her head when we reach her apartment door. “No. I’m what you’ve always deserved.”
Penny peeks at me as she sticks the key into the lock. “Well, what I really deserve is a certain book I’ve been promised.”
I groan. “It’s not ready yet.”
“That wasn’t the deal, book boyfriend.”
I follow her inside the apartment, and she moves to collapse onto her couch, pulling me with her as she does. “It just needs a little work,” I admit. “I’m not used to anyone reading my books before they’re done. Well, apart from my mom.”
Penny leans forward and presses a kiss to my shoulder. Excitement—at the little, yet intimate, gesture—burns through my veins.
“You used to let me read everything you wrote while you were writing it. To this day, Swept Away is still my favorite.”
I eye her, surprised. “But that one wasn’t ever published.”
“No. But you let me read it. And I loved it.”
“Maybe back then you did.” I think back to how Penny gushed over that story when we were still in high school. It was the first time I thought maybe I could really do this, that I could commit to writing full time. “Now I’m sure if you read it again you’d have a slew of critiques.”
“Nope.” She shakes her head. “I don’t have one comment. I’ve loved it every time I’ve read it.”
“What?”
“You gave it to me for graduation, remember?”
I scratch at my neck; of course I remember.
Penny raved about Swept Away after I gave her a personal copy on printer paper that I’d marked up with my notes.
The sheets were coming apart at the sides but she managed to keep it together with an oversized rubber band, carrying it around with her at school, or around town.
Back then, she begged me to submit it to an agent but I knew it wasn’t the story I wanted to sell.
It was a romance—the story of how Vovo met my grandfather.
I’d written it for her when he was first diagnosed.
Made him tell me every detail while he was still lucid enough to remember, so I could preserve it for us all.
And then, that Christmas, he passed away and everything else seemed to fall apart.
I blow out a breath. God, that was a lifetime ago.
Looking back on everything now, Penny’s friendship was the only good and constant presence during that time. So, to thank her for sticking by me, I had Swept Away bound properly for her as a graduation present. I even had this whole plan of how I wanted to give it to her.
I wanted to ask her to stay in touch. Wanted to kiss her. That plan went up in flames right before graduation, when my mom got the job offer in New York. Suddenly, my mom and dad were separating, and I was leaving Hope Harbor for good.
I still gave Penny the book, but bit my tongue on the rest, refusing to give in to temptation.
“I read it every year,” Penny says now, interrupting my thoughts. “It’s my favorite book. Your grandparents’ love story, right?”
I nod as I run a hand over my mouth and try to remind myself to breathe.
“That’s how I know you can do this,” she continues. “You will write another bestseller, Monty. You’ll fill it with delicious chemistry, and prose, and banter, and”—she kisses her fingers and squeezes her eyes shut—“that perfect pinch of Monty.”
“Okay,” I say, grinning at her utter belief in me as I go to pull out my phone. I realize then that I must have left it in the car. I sigh. “I’ll email you what I have done and you can read it whenever you want.”
Penny throws her arms around me and squeals. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she says between kisses she presses to my cheek, then my chin, and finally my mouth.