Chapter 16
Penny
My bedroom looks like a clothing bomb exploded in it.
Sweaters, work pants, boots, coats—everything is spread across the bed while I stand in the middle of the mess with my hands on my hips, trying to decide what exactly someone packs when they’re temporarily moving into their hot coworker’s house.
Not that Miles is just my hot coworker. Or that this arrangement means anything beyond convenience.
My phone vibrates against the comforter, Mami’s picture lighting up the screen.
“Hola, Ma,” I say as soon as I answer.
“Penny Bean, are you ready?”
I sigh, staring at the open suitcase sitting on my bed. “Not quite. I’m still deciding what to pack.”
Her laugh fills my room. “Ay, Penny Marie. You’re just going two hours away, not moving to another country. Just throw in some pants, skirts, jeans, and shirts, and call it a day.”
Easy for her to say. She’s not about to spend the next few weeks sharing a house with Miles MacAllister and his sinful hands.
Besides, I love having options—I dress depending on my mood.
“Do you want me to come over and help?” she offers.
“No, thanks. You’ll just pack whatever you see first.”
“That’s because you overthink everything.”
She’s not wrong.
“Maybe you need options because you want to impress a certain someone,” she adds.
“Ma,” I groan. “Stop, please. There’s nothing going on between Miles and me besides friendship and work.”
“Mhmm. And I was born yesterday.”
I roll my eyes even though she can’t see me.
“Anyway,” she says, “did you make the cookies already?”
My entire body freezes.
“Mierda.”
Mami bursts out laughing, “Good thing I called.”
Three hours later, I carefully pack the cookies into the passenger seat, toss my suitcase into the trunk, and drive halfway to Azalea Creek with Christmas music playing softly through the speaker.
At the same time, I try very hard not to think about the fact that tonight will be my first night staying at Miles’s house.
“Hey,” Ruin says as she opens the door with a huge smile. She pulls me into a hug, and the scent of cinnamon and sugar clinging to her hair reminds me of Grandma's arroz con leche.
“Penny’s here,” she calls out as I step into the mudroom. “And she brought cookies.”
“Mami shared the recipe with me,” I admit as I hand over the tray. “She even gave me a full demo, but I can’t guarantee they taste as good as hers.”
Ruin laughs softly. “Oh, please. They’re better than the ones I’d have made. You know Gio’s the cook in this family. He even bakes.”
I smile, knowing she’s just lying to make me feel better.
As soon as I walk into the kitchen, warmth hits me from every direction. Christmas music is playing in the background, the kitchen smells like vanilla and butter, and every surface is covered with trays of cookies.
A chorus of hellos follows as the MacAllister women pull me into hugs, and I happily sink into every single one of them.
Mami always says Colombians don’t know how to love halfway.
We hug, kiss on the cheeks, and hold hands while talking.
Affection is as natural as breathing to her.
Dad, on the other hand, has always been more reserved, but Mami made sure I grew up knowing there’s nothing wrong with openly showing people you love them.
“I was thrilled when I heard you were joining us,” Joss says, masterfully stealing the tray from Ruin’s hands.
I smile, then my eyes widen as I fully take in the spread covering the kitchen island. Cookies covered in icing, powdered sugar, sprinkles, chocolate drizzle—it looks like something straight out of a bakery window.
“Auntie Penny,” Indigo says as soon as he spots me.
“Hi, cutie. What’s wrong?” I ask after I notice the deep frown on his little face.
He glances toward Ruin, then leans closer like he’s about to share classified information. “Auntie Rain’s on fire.”
I blink before looking over at her. She’s glowing in a cute shirt that says "bun in the oven," complete with a cartoon oven and little squiggly lines meant to be steam rising from it.
A laugh escapes me.
“Oh, no?” I whisper dramatically. “Should we call the fire department?”
Indigo nods seriously, which only makes me laugh harder before I pick him up, hug him, and give him smooches.
“You’re too cute for your own good, Indigo Bianchi.”
His giggles fill the kitchen just as another round of greetings erupts near the entrance.
My heart skips the moment I see Miles walking into the kitchen with Sage in his arms.
No man should look that good carrying a toddler around. His strong arms hold Sage carefully while she plays with the collar of his jacket, completely content in his embrace. And his smile—God, that smile could cure the most acute case of the blues.
“Sagie!” Indigo shouts before squirming out of my hold and running toward his sister.
My gaze stays fixed on Miles as she wiggles down from his arms.
“You two look good with kids,” Granny says from beside me, nearly scaring the bejesus out of me.
“Granny,” I gasp, pressing a hand to my chest.
“Oh hush.” She waves me off before taking my hand and turning it palm up. Her fingers glide softly over the lines in my palm. “Everything is within reach when you let go.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“Oh dear, you’re just as clueless as all of my grandkids.”
I bite my lip to keep from laughing, but I can’t quite hide my amusement.
“I’m telling you, there’s someone who would love to love you the way you deserve,” she says, all traces of humor gone from her voice. “Don’t be afraid to take risks.”
She winks, then pats my hand and walks away like she didn’t just completely unravel me.
I stare after her, completely rattled.
“Okay, everyone,” Rain shouts from across the kitchen. “Let’s get this party started before we kick the men out.”
“Damn, Cherry. These are fucking delicious,” Xander says around a mouthful of cookie. “I don’t think you’ve made them before.”
Right on cue, Rain’s brothers twist their faces in disgust, and I can’t help but laugh.
“It’s a shortbread cookie with cherry and rum flavoring,” Rain says brightly.
Xander’s face immediately shifts from delight to panic. “Rain, you can’t drink.” His hand goes straight to her belly, where the slightest bump shows beneath her shirt.
“Relax, hotshot. It’s rum essence, not the actual alcohol,” she says, patting his chest.
Xander lets out a deep sigh of relief before wrapping an arm around her shoulders and kissing the top of her head.
A pang of longing hits me square in the chest.
That’s what Granny was talking about.
Behind me, someone turns the Christmas music up louder, and suddenly the kitchen fills with the opening notes of an old holiday song Mami used to play every December while decorating the house.
The scent of vanilla and cinnamon hangs heavy in the warm air while everyone around me keeps moving—laughing, stealing cookie dough, arguing over icing colors.
And somehow, in the middle of all the chaos, Rain looks completely at peace in Xander’s arms.
Seeing Rain—a badass woman who’s always loud, fearless, and ready to take on the world—completely soft and content in her man’s arms awakens something deep inside me.
My deepest secret.
I’ve always wanted someone who loves me for me. Not for my family’s name. Not for my money or my connections.
Just me.
But I’ve never felt comfortable enough with anyone to truly let myself believe that kind of love could exist for me, at least not with someone who wanted something real.
Xander and Rain sway together while he whispers something against her hair that makes her giggle.
Then he straightens, mischief written all over his face. “Rain González, you’re the cherry to my wood.”
Rain throws her head back, howling in laughter, and the entire kitchen follows.
Why would he say that out loud?
As ridiculous as it is, the comment feels oddly intimate, like something meant only for the two of them.
As the laughter dies down, I straighten up, and my gaze finds Miles across the kitchen table.
Then he starts walking toward me.
I swallow hard.
“Hey, boss. I’m happy to see you here,” he says with a genuine smile.
I nod, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear.
“So, what did you bring?” he asks after clearing his throat.
Thank God he’s a talker, because Granny’s little speech completely threw me off my game, and apparently, I’ve forgotten how to form coherent sentences around him.
“I made sugar cookies and decorated them with faroles,” I explain, feeling myself relax a little. Somehow, Miles always makes me feel like I belong.
“Faroles?” he asks as he moves closer. “What’s that?”
“It’s a traditional Colombian handmade lantern used during día de las velitas. It marks the official start of the Christmas season.”
“Sometimes I forget you’re part Colombian,” he says as he grabs one of my cookies.
I hold my breath, waiting for whatever he’s going to say next.
“But I think it adds another layer of awesomeness to you.” He lifts the cookie to his nose, smelling it before taking a bite.
A smile spreads across my face before I can stop it. “What do you mean?”
“I mean you’re super smart, beautiful, funny… and Colombian, which makes you unique around here. Like, who else in Azalea Creek would make cookies this detailed?”
I point toward Xander. “He’s Colombian too. His dad’s from Barranquilla.”
Miles scoffs. “Please.”
I laugh. “What do you mean? He is.”
“Yeah, but he’s not as cool and awesome as you are. Rain does all the cooking in that house.”
I shake my head, laughing softly. “Well, this is probably the only thing I can bake. You know I’m not exactly skilled in the kitchen.”
“That’s okay,” Miles says before taking another big bite of the cookie. Then he leans closer, his mouth near my ear. “I don’t need you to cook. I can cook for both of us. You do other important things I can’t.”
His words hit me straight in my core.
“Like what?” I ask, my voice softer than before.
“Like making me feel like I could actually matter to you.”
The kitchen suddenly feels too warm.