Chapter
Twenty-Six
Penelope
* * *
Leighton’s kitchen is the kind I’ve always hoped to have.
It’s warm, and it smells like whatever was on the grill, and there’s always something on the counter that someone is in the middle of making. The fridge is lined with calendars, drawings, and schedules, and little piles of belongings clutter the counter here and there.
Callie is perched on a stool with a plate of two s’mores in front of her.
Leighton drops a dishwasher pod in the dishwasher and starts it, then sits on the stool next to Callie to eat the s’mores Hayes just brought in for her.
I feel way overdressed in my dress and heels and full face of makeup, having put in every effort for the man I spent the entire evening across from while I thought of another one.
The s’mores look delicious as Callie bites into one, but going outside to make my own would mean seeing Decker again.
As if she can read my mind, Leighton says, “I’ll ask Hayes to make you one.”
But the back door opens before she can get up off the stool.
Easton comes in with a plate. “For the ladies.” He slides it onto the counter. Four imperfect s’mores rest on the plate.
“Did the kids make these?” Callie asks, finishing hers.
Easton puts his hand on his heart. “Are you suggesting I’m not a gentleman?”
“You? No way. I’m sure if some hot single women were at this table, you’d be turning on the charm no doubt.” Callie gives him a cheesy smile.
“There is one hot single woman at the counter.” Leighton eyes me as she goes to the fridge and grabs an open bottle of white wine and two glasses.
“Is she though?” Easton’s head tilts.
I feel as if I just choked on a s’more. The man barely knows me and has already identified the central problem of my adult life.
Leighton pours the wine, glancing in my direction. “Penelope is single. She was just on a date.”
Easton laughs, and he’s not fully out the door when he says, “Goldie, man, your lady went on a date. You need to get your head out of your ass.”
The guys all tell him there are kids nearby, but who are we kidding? All those kids have probably heard way worse than ass by now.
By the time I turn around, Callie and Leighton’s attention is on me.
“What?” I pull the wineglass toward me. They both give me a look that says come on, spill. I motion to Callie’s face. “You have chocolate on the corner of your mouth.”
Leighton hands Callie a napkin, and she wipes it away, swallowing the last of her second s’more.
“Seriously, I eat all the time. It’s great, but what will happen to me after I stop breastfeeding Ellis?” Callie asks.
“You’ll be fine.” I remember when I stopped breastfeeding, and my appetite finally settled to something bearable. It was more the boredom that got me once Hazel was napping twice a day and going to bed early. She was an easy baby.
“Okay, we’re not talking about that. Spill. How was your date with Elias?” Leighton sips her wine.
“Oh yeah, who cares about me eating like I’m in a competition every day? Please tell us about your hot date with the doctor, Pen.”
Callie’s shortening of my name pulls a smile from me. It makes me feel as though I’ve found real friendships here—but there’s a problem. They’re all linked to Decker, and if I admit how hard it is to be around him, how much I’d love for us to have an honest try, I risk losing them. They’re with Decker’s teammates.
