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“It’s a date. Love you, Les.”
“Love you, too, Maddox.”
I end the call just as I pull my truck into my parking space. As I stare up at my building, I mull over my cousin’s concerns. But it only takes me a few moments to focus back on tonight and proving to Penelope that we belong together.
Let the preparation begin.
* * *
Ipull up to Penelope’s house just after five and remind myself not to jump from the truck and run up to her doorstep like an overeager kid. Instead, I take a few deep breaths, check my reflection in the rearview mirror, and then exit my truck and slowly ascend the steps to her door.
I knock and wait for her to answer, and when she does, I have to fight to keep my jaw from dropping and drool from leaking out of my mouth.
“Hey, there, Mr. Taylor.” With a teasing grin on her lips, Penelope opens the door wider, revealing her curvy body slathered in purple spandex that makes her look like a fruity popsicle I want to suck on.
“Penelope.” I take a step forward and press a kiss to her cheek, reminding myself it’s not gentlemanly to maul her the second I see her. “You sure you want to wear this?”
She furrows her brow at me. “Is there something wrong with my outfit?” Turning slowly in a circle, she peers over her shoulder at me as I watch her move around. And the look of mischief in her eyes tells me she knows exactly how she looks and why she wore this outfit—to drive me nuts.
“The exact opposite.” I drag a hand over my mouth. “Fuck, maybe this wasn’t a good idea.”
Chuckling, she motions for me to come inside. “No backing out now, Maddox. Come in. I’m just gonna use the bathroom really quick, and then we can leave. Of course, if you want to tell me where we’re going and why I had to dress like this, I wouldn’t object to that.”
Sticking my hands in my pockets, I shake my head at her. “Nope. It’s a surprise.”
She shrugs. “Fine. I’ll be right back.” Sashaying as she walks down a hallway, I trail her with my eyes until she disappears behind a door, and then I take a moment to survey her place.
Her townhouse is open and bright, decorated in mostly white and soft gray with pops of purple here and there—a color I’m beginning to notice she loves. The space is feminine and clean, but it’s the pictures on the mantle of her fireplace that catch my attention, drawing me closer to them.
Four gorgeous women, one of which is Penelope, stare back at me with blinding smiles on their faces. Instantly, I know these girls have to be her best friends she’s bragged so much about, and I’m pretty sure I know who is who based on what she’s told me.
Wild blonde curls circle the face of Amelia, the marriage and sex therapist that Penelope loves so much. Charlotte, the magazine executive, has to be the curvy brunette who’s a bit shorter than the rest with the strong mind and determination. And Noelle, the literary agent, has soft brown hair and green eyes that make her look just like the girl next door you knew growing up who’s always believed in love.
And even though I have no problem admitting all of these women are beautiful, Penelope undoubtedly stands out among them for me with her blinding smile, full lips, slightly reddish hair, and that seductive gleam in her eyes—the one that hints at her wild side. But I see her softness and loyal heart in there, too.
“Checking out my girls?” she asks, forcing me to spin around and face her as she walks back out to the living room.
“Admiring how beautiful you all are but staring at you the most, obviously,” I reply.
She walks up to me, standing just a few inches from my chest, and stares up into my eyes. “Good answer.”
Neither of us speaks for a minute, just soaking in the feeling of being in the same room as one another, all alone.
But it doesn’t take long before we crash into each other at the same time, our lips connecting and tongues lashing instantly.
Groaning, I bury my hand in her hair and hold her body to mine, plunging my tongue into her mouth, kissing her like I’m starved.
And I am. I have been. I’ve been starved forher.
We kiss and moan frantically before finally coming up for air, breathing heavily as I rest my forehead on hers.
“Fuck, I needed that.”
“Me, too,” she replies, breathless.
“We need to go, though, before I push you down on this couch and fuck you all night.”
She laughs. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
