14. Martin
MARTIN
Martin stood motionless in the center of the spacious, sunlit foyer, his eyes locked onto the elegant white card in Penny's hand.
A deep rumble of genuine amusement vibrated in his chest as he took in the sheer, unadulterated scale of the teenagers' elaborate plot.
The massive mahogany cabinet beside the door looked like a full-blown boutique display, complete with vibrant red roses, a gleaming silver ice bucket, a soft checked blanket, and plush throw pillows.
The rich, savory aroma of toasted artisan paninis, fresh Italian herbs, and warm pastries wafted from the basket's wicker weave, making it impossible to ignore their empty stomachs.
"Well," Martin said, a broad, handsome smile breaking across his features as he looked from the note to Penny's flushed, stunning face. "It seems we’ve been completely outmaneuvered by a pack of teenagers. I have to admit, their tactical execution is absolutely flawless."
"They are shameless," Penny agreed, letting out a soft, musical laugh that echoed beautifully off the high plaster ceilings, though her eyes were shining with a bright, undeniable excitement.
She set the card back down, propping it carefully against the wicker basket.
"They definitely set us up last night; they manufactured a fake car sickness emergency this morning, and now they’ve left us a fully catered romantic feast in an empty house. They really are not subtle, are they?"
"Not even a little bit," Martin chuckled, stepping closer and lifting the heavy wicker lid of the basket to inspect the mouthwatering contents inside.
"But honestly, it would be a crime against humanity to let a magnificent spread like this go to waste.
What do you say we take this carefully laid trap outside and actually enjoy it? "
Penny smiled, her wide eyes lighting up instantly. "I think that is a great plan and the back garden is starting to look good now that I’ve had a landscaper in."
Within a few minutes, they had gathered up the heavy basket, the silver ice bucket, the plush cushions, and the checked blanket, carrying everything out through the grand French doors at the back of the mansion.
The expansive back lawn was a stunning stretch of lush green grass that sloped gently downward, flowing right into the sparkling emerald waters of the bay.
The warm morning sun danced across the sea's surface, and a gentle, refreshing breeze rustled the nearby palms, creating a peaceful, private paradise.
Martin expertly spread the red-and-white checked blanket across a perfectly flat, sun-drenched patch of grass, smoothing down the heavy fabric before arranging the plush throw pillows at the edges.
Penny carefully lifted the containers of food from the basket, setting out the beautifully prepared plates, the freshly toasted paninis, and the small basket of glazed cinnamon buns.
As he settled down onto the blanket, his long legs stretched out comfortably, Martin looked across the lawn toward the glittering bay. A sudden, unexpected tightness gripped his chest, a silent realization washing over him.
"You know, I haven't actually sat down for an outdoor picnic in a very long time," he murmured softly, his voice carrying a sudden, reflective weight.
The moment the words left his lips, his heart gave a sharp, tender twinge.
Behind his closed eyelids, a vivid, beautiful image of Suzi’s flaming red hair and jewel green eyes appeared, perfectly clear and peaceful.
But instead of the usual crushing wave of grief that had anchored him to the past for six long years, a sudden, dead calm washed through the atmosphere.
A voice like a soft, warm caress whispered directly through his brain, an echoing reassurance that vibrated right to the core of his soul: Be happy, my love. Look forward, not back. This is exactly where you’re meant to be.
An overwhelming sense of profound warmth spread through his entire body, melting away the final, stubborn layers of guilt he’d been carrying around for years.
He mentally tried to shake the sensation off, his rational corporate brain telling him he was just daydreaming, but the deep, comforting peace simply refused to leave him.
He sat frozen halfway through the motion of reaching for the chilled bottle of grape juice, his hand hovering over the silver bucket as the sheer beauty of the moment locked him in place.
Penny turned around right then, a bright, sunny smile on her face as she set a pair of forks down on the plates.
She’d already snuck a quick, messy bite out of a small piece of a frosted cinnamon bun, her cheeks slightly full as she looked at him.
The second her eyes caught the intense, unblinking look on his face, she froze in mid-motion.
"What?" Penny asked, her voice filled with a sudden, self-conscious worry as she quickly swallowed the bite. "Oh no, do I have something embarrassing on my face?"
The soft, warm voice echoed in his head one last time: Be happy, my love.
Martin shook his head, a sudden, joyous laugh breaking out of his throat as he looked at Penny’s vibrant, incredibly beautiful face.
There was still a faint, endearing smear of white drywall dust on her cheek from her earlier restoration work before they’d gone for their wild drive, and now, a small, visible dot of white sugar icing sat right on the corner of her top lip.
On impulse, throwing his usual structured caution to the wind, Martin leaned across the small space between them.
He reached out, his hand gently cupping the soft line of her jaw, and he leaned in to press his lips firmly against hers, smoothly stealing the sweet smear of frosting right from her lip.
They both froze instantly, the world around them dropping into absolute silence as the electricity of the contact surged through their veins. Their eyes met for a single, heart-stopping microsecond, wide with a mutual shock that instantly melted into undeniable tension.
The heavy green bottle of grape juice slipped entirely from Martin’s fingers, landing softly against the thick grass of the lawn as he abandoned it.
His strong arms wrapped tightly around Penny’s slim waist, pulling her flush against his chest, while Penny’s hands flew up to lace securely behind his neck.
She leaned right into him, her lips parting as the tentative kiss transformed into something fiercely deeper, sweet, and incredibly real.
The lingering shadows of his past and the cautious walls of Penny’s recent divorce dissolved completely, leaving nothing but the certainty of the present moment.
When they finally pulled apart, their breathing was shallow and breathless, their foreheads resting gently against each other as their hearts pounded in a synchronized, wild rhythm against their ribs.
"I am not going to apologize for that," Martin told her, his deep voice thick with emotion as he tightened his grip around her waist, his thumbs lightly stroking her hip.
"I couldn't help myself.” His eyes held hers captive with his intense gaze.
“Honestly, I’ve wanted to do that from the moment I walked into your dining room and saw you balancing precariously on the very top step of that towering ladder, fiercely fixing your own chandelier.
" He paused, his brows furrowing into a small, thoughtful frown as he looked down into her bright eyes.
"No, wait... that’s not right. It was actually when you turned around and looked at me when we first met at the local summer festival right after you arrived on the island. "
Penny let out a soft, beautiful chuckle, her fingers gently playing with the short hairs at the back of his neck as a radiant glow lit up her features.
"I don't want you to apologize at all,” she admitted softly, her voice carrying a deep, honest vulnerability. "To be perfectly honest, from the very first moment I met you, I’ve had a remarkably hard time thinking about much of anything else besides your smile."
Martin felt a thrill of pure elation surge through his veins, and he smiled warmly, pulling her back in for another deep, lingering kiss that tasted faintly of sugar and cinnamon.
They were completely lost in each other until a sudden, loud, and deeply unromantic growl erupted from the depths of Penny's stomach, drawing them apart with a sudden jolt.
Penny’s cheeks instantly flamed into a vibrant, deep shade of crimson, and she hid her face against his chest as Martin let out a delighted laugh that echoed across the lawn.
"I guess that is our official cue to start eating," Martin amusedly teased, gently kissing the top of her head before letting her shift back onto her side of the blanket.
"Yes, please," Penny sighed, a playful roll of her eyes hiding her embarrassment as she reached for the serving tongs. "Before my belly really ruins the romantic atmosphere."
Martin picked the fallen bottle of grape juice back up from the grass, clearing away a few stray blades of turf as he reached for the silver bottle opener.
As he worked, he noticed Penny frown deeply, her head tilting forward as her sharp eyes locked onto the large, hand-written white label glued directly onto the glass.
"Wait a minute," Penny said, reaching over to take the bottle out of his hands. She scanned the writing for a second before letting out a loud, amused snort, shaking her head in total disbelief. "It is from Sophia. Look at this."
Martin took the bottle back, his eyes tracking the neat, bold letters that Sophia had meticulously scrawled across the custom label. He read the message out loud:
Penny, this is what real grape juice that is completely unfermented into alcohol actually tastes like. There was a massive, highly expressive smiley face emoji drawn right next to the signature.
"I take it there is an entertaining backstory behind this note?" Martin asked, looking over at her with a curious, dancing glint in his eyes.
Penny pulled a sheepish, guilty face, her shoulders shifting in a casual shrug.
"When Emma was much younger, and I used to look after her back in Miami, I would occasionally sneak a quick glass of red wine after she went to bed. Whenever she’d catch me and ask what it was, I would always tell her it was just regular grape juice.
” Her grin widened at the memory. “Then, when she naturally asked if she could have a sip, I would look her dead in the eye and tell her it was an adult-only version of grape juice that kids weren't allowed to touch.
" She let out a soft laugh, rubbing her temple.
"Well, last night at Heart House while I was being pampered by the kids, I was drinking my usual glass of adult grape juice, and Sophia called me out on the old lie.”
Martin was thoroughly amused, a rich chuckle escaping his lips as he popped the cap off the bottle.
"Mmm," he murmured, carefully pouring the dark, sweet liquid into their crystal glasses before taking a tentative, evaluating sip. "I can officially confirm that Sophia is correct. It really is just plain, regular grape juice."
"Just as well," Penny stated with a confident nod, picking up a beautifully glazed cinnamon bun.
She took a large, thoroughly satisfying bite, chewed, swallowed, and offered him a brilliant, teasing wink.
"You have to drive that spectacular mechanical machine of yours safely back to the hotel later. It would be such a shame to get a scratch on it because you had a bit of wine.”
“That’s true,” Martin agreed as they raised their grape juice glasses. “A toast to five terrifyingly manipulatively brilliant masterminds that see far too much for their age.”
“To the terrifying five,” Penny clinked her glass with Martin. “May they always be on our side.”
“Yes, agreed.” Martin rolled his eyes.
A comfortable silence descended between them as they sipped their grape juice and ate the delicious breakfast. After a few moments, Martin turned toward Penny.
“Penny, would you go on a non-terrifying five-date with me?” Martin asked her.
“I would like that,” Penny accepted the invitation without a single hesitation.
Martin smiled as they sat back close to each other, juices in hand, stomachs full, and stared out of the sparkling bay. For the first time in six years, Martin didn’t feel the sharp insistent ache of a bruised heart.
Be happy! The voice echoed in his head once again, and this time he replied. Thank you for guiding me here.
Martin reached over, wrapped his arm around Penny’s shoulder, gently pulling her closer as they enjoyed the rest of their picnic. Both were sure this was the first of many more to come.