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He let out a laugh. She speared him with a murderous glare before looking over her shoulder. He’d driven them deep into the gardens at the side of the house, so all his old man had seen—or could currently see—was the black blob of Zach’s car.
And he and Pen were safely hidden on one side of it.
He sat up, keeping their connection as a tremor ran down his spine. Damn, he could have used a few more minutes to Zen out with her. Cradling her face, he gave her a swift kiss. Unfortunately, timing was of the essence before Rider called the cops.
“Get dressed,” Zach told Pen. “I’ll handle this.”
Not since he was sixteen had he been caught with his pants around his ankles, and he wasn’t starting today. He yanked them up, buckling his belt and pushing a hand through his hair.
He snatched his shirt off the ground and turned to find Pen, grass in her hair, roll her tiny scrap of a pair of panties up those long, golden legs.
He lifted her dress off the ground and handed it to her, noticing the grass stain a microsecond before she did. She merely shook her head and pulled it on, tugging it down and wadding the bra in her hand while Zach stepped into his shoes.
He spared one last glance the second his dad turned on the floodlight, enough to see her grow a little more irked, and in the process, a whole lot more beautiful.
Who knew that could happen?
“Zach?” his dad bellowed.
“It’s me!” he called back. “Don’t shoot!” He was only half kidding. From what he could see, Rider wasn’t carrying a shotgun, but one could never be too careful.
So much for his parents never using this part of the house. He’d been sure this side was left to the staff or only opened up for parties.
His father strolled into the yard. Zach approached while he finished buttoning his white collared shirt.
“What in Sam hell are you doing?” Rider asked, his voice filled with mirth. “Trying to give me another heart attack? Because if your mother knew you were out here having sex in the petunias, she’d make sure I had one.”
Rider turned to look over his shoulder but only briefly. They both knew Eleanor was in her bath by now with the TV on and a magazine in hand.
“I don’t think those were petunias,” Zach said in response.
“You two have your own place and you’re carrying on like teenagers.” His father sent a look over to the car where Pen sat in the front seat, elbow on the window, one hand hiding her face. “She knows I know that’s her, right?”
“Yeah. She does.” His own gaze lingered there a moment before he bid his dad adieu. “I’ll pay to repair the lawn.”
“You know I don’t give a shit about that.” Rider chuckled. “Get your girl home. Continue what you started indoors.”
Zach’s back straightened on his walk to the car, his swagger taking over. He was proud that this woman was with him. And that she’d offered to do dastardly things outside with him. Pen embodied the motto “work hard, play hard.” He liked that a hell of a lot.
Zach reached the car and Rider called out, “’Night, Penny!” His loud boom of a guffaw heard as clear as day.
When Zach sank into his leather seat, Pen watched him for a solid thirty seconds. Fine by him. It gave him a moment to rebutton his shirt since he’d done it wrong on the walk over to his dad. He adjusted his seat belt and started the car, aware of her watching him the entire time.
“What?”
“Now your mom definitely hates me.”
“She has no idea. Dad won’t tell her.” He reversed the car and drove through the grass.
Pen went stone silent.
Zach grasped her chin and turned her to face him, his car idling at the gate of his parents’ gargantuan home. “I would never let her hate you. Give her time.”
Pen’s blue eyes softened with worry.
“I mean it. Give her a little time and she’ll love you as much as my dad does.”
He pulled out of the driveway and onto the street, the words he’d said wending around his brain. He’d meant them. Everyone loved Penelope—her clients, his siblings, his dad.
Do you?came the unplanned thought.
But that kind of love was different—he’d learned long ago that loving with his full heart wasn’t rewarded. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.
He drove home, arm leaning on his open window and the summer air blowing his hair.
Some thoughts were best left unexplored.
