Penn pulled me into him again, and it took all my energy not to bury my nose into his neck and inhale.
“She sure is.”
I was feeling decidedly uncomfortable under Shelley’s eager eye, which was currently moving between me and Penn.
“Okay, if you guys are ditching Mike and this tour, I’ll catch up with you later. I’m going shopping. Marla, sure I can’t persuade you to come with me? Us girls.”
“No, I’m good, thanks. I went shopping yesterday.”
Miraculously Penn’s mouth didn’t even twitch at my lame excuse, proving he was way better at this storytelling shit than I was. Bet he did it all the time.
“Okay,” I thumbed behind me, desperate to get away, “it was great to meet you both, hopefully we’ll see you again soon.”
“Uh, babe, don’t I get a little kiss goodbye?” Penn’s eyes twinkled mischievously again.
There was no way I was going to get out of this one.
If I hadn’t been swimming with nerves and my heart wasn’t racing like it was taking part in the New York City Marathon, I might have been able to think a little more clearly and comeup with an excuse or witty retort. But right then, my mind was completely blank.
I stood on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek, trying to keep it as chaste as possible in front of our new friends, but that went out the window when he moved his head, and I planted right on his lips… His soft, soft, pillowy lips that were parted just enough for him to stealthily slip his tongue against mine with a moan. When he grabbed my ass, it wasn’t a moan that escaped me but more of a squeak, and it had Shelley laughing long and hard.
“Oh, you lovebirds!” She practically had hearts floating round her head. “I still love seeing couples with a spark, even after three kids. And you two have such spark.”
“Three kids?” asked Penn confused, flinching as I pinched him. “Oh yes, our three kids. Such angels, just like their mom, that’s why the spark won’t go away. Can you blame me?”
He looked down at me with so much heat I melted under his gaze, causing sweat to bead at the back of my neck.
“Okay, I’m going to see what I can find in the archives.” I smiled at the group. “Buck, Shelley, lovely to meet you.”
“I’ll come find you when we’re done,” Penn called after me, but I was already running.
The archives - an unmanned room reminiscent of my old college library, with rows and rows of dusty books, and walls covered in yellowing photographs from bygone eras - were housed not far from where Mike, the guide, had pointed to the old wall, with the door from England. Or more specifically, according to the book I was currently reading, the door carved from the heart of a two-hundred-year-old oak tree, cut in the grounds of Windsor Castle.
While learning about a really old door was great and all that, I had actually struck gold on several thick Lions digests and a dozen photo albums I’d found. Hundreds of impeccably preserved team photos through the decades, along with candid shots from each season, had provided me with a trove of ideas and a starting point for what needed to be done.
For Penn’s new team.
For Penn.
Penn.
I was still clammy from the unexpected sweat-shower I’d subconsciously subjected myself to. It still buzzed with the remnants of latent electricity from the sparks that passed between us, evidenced from the hair on my arms still standing to attention.
My head was quickly becoming - scratch that - my head had already become a tangled mass of confused thoughts. What did I think I was doing? Penn wasn’t just any guy; I’d known him almost my entire life. He was my best friend’s brother, he was younger than me, and our families were too connected.
But man, could he kiss. And if he could kiss like that, what else could he do?
My skin flushed white-hot again at the thought, just like it had done outside.
This was a bad idea. It was definitely a bad idea.
It needed nipping in the bud.
Yeah. That’s what I was going to do. Nip it in the bud. As soon as I saw him.
I shook my head clear and tried to get back to the job in hand. Namely, the job Penn was paying me for.
I was crudely doodling designs for a new logo when a long, thick finger tapped where I’d drawn one with the N of New York stacked on the Y, instead of interconnected like the Mets andThe Yankees. I’d looped the L of The Lions around the outside of them.
