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I suddenly understood. I stood up abruptly. “I’ll be right back.”
I sprinted inside the villa and sorted through my bag until I found what I was looking for. A part of me was hesitant about my next move, but a bigger part of me felt like it was an involuntary reaction. I walked back outside holding a copy of a mystery novel about an Archaeologist. An Indiana Jones type of story. I found it years ago, and it had always reminded me of Penelope. She used to love Indiana Jones when we were young.
I couldn’t stop thinking about all the things she said when she told me she doesn’t like to read a couple of weeks ago (I found myself stuck on her soulmate theory, too). I wanted to try and see if I could get her into it. She was always so high strung. So stressed. I planned to give it to her on the plane, but the moment hadn’t been right.
“I’ll preface this by saying I had not expected the conversation to go the direction it did today.” I huffed. “But I did bring this for you. It’s not a romance, and it doesn’t really have a happy ending either. It’s about a treasure hunter searching for a lost city. It’s like Indiana Jones meets Atlantis. It reminded me of you. There is a whole series.” I smiled softly. “I understand if you’re not there yet. I didn’t realize the reason you don’t read is because of your mom, but–”
She snatched it from my hands, her eyes glimmering with gratitude. She sighed in mock defeat. “Alright, I guess I’ll give it a try.”
She was just opening the first page when Macie’s voice rang out.
Chapter Fifteen
Penelope
“IWANTTOGOREAL HOUSEWIFE HUNTING!” Macie yelled from the doorway of the patio. She then gasped, as if startled. “Oh, sorry. I thought Carter was inside.”
We both glanced back at her. “What the hell is Real Housewife hunting?” Carter asked.
“Don’t encourage her,” I muttered under my breath.
“First of all, I heard that, Penny. Secondly, I just made it up. But I want to go to West Hollywood and see if I can find any of the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.”
I snickered and shook my head.
“I’m in. Sounds fun,” Carter said. I shot him a horrified expression. “Not the Housewife hunting part, but I’ve never been to Hollywood.”
Before I could argue with either of them, Macie was squealing and grabbing me by the arm, hoisting me onto my feet and inside the house.
Macie didn’t do anything half-assed. If we were going out, we could bet that she was finding the top tier restaurants and clubs in L.A. She was definitely going to dress me in something with sequins. I’d probably have to wear fake eyelashes and insensible shoes as well. It wasn’t that I didn’t like dressing up. I just had averydifferent style from Macie’s, and tonight I knew she’d want her way. She already had her hair done, her eyes fully smoldering with dark eyeshadow, making the brown within them appear more of a honeyed shade.
“I only brought one dress,” I warned her. “It’s that black one with the cinching at the front and the short sleeves,” I said, jogging her memory back to the dress I’d worn multiple times.
She tsked and shook her head. “No, that won’t do.”
I already knew she’d say that.
Forty-five minutes later, I was thrown into a lace bralette (which was too small because I was at least a cup size bigger than Macie); with a sheer, long sleeve, black mesh top, paired with a tight, black, faux leather mini skirt. She finished the look off with hot pink strappy heels to adda pop of color to the all-black ensemble. I had to admit that I actually didn’t hate it. I looked good. I wasn’t wearing sequins, either. It wasn’t my taste whatsoever. I’d rarely ever be caught dead in something tight and see through, or bright pink heels. But I didn’t have the energy to argue with her about it. I stared at myself in the mirror, turning side to side to examine the finished product.
“Wow.” Carter’s voice pulled me from my reflection just in time to catch him staring at me from the hallway. I noticed the slow roll of his throat as he swallowed. His tongue snaked out across his lips as he checked me out. He started at my feet as his eyes roamed across my body, lingering on my hips and my skin underneath the top that left nearly nothing to the imagination. He wasn’t even trying to hide the way he looked at me. It both empowered and excited something deep inside me. I took a moment to look at him too. He had on another one of his sheer button-ups. This one appeared particularly white in contrast to the color of his skin. The top two buttons were undone, giving the slightest glimpse of his tattoo. He had on dark jeans and a watch that looked like it would cost what I make in a year. I assumed it was a gift from his father.
He looked good. Really good.
Feeling bold, I sauntered past him, pausing briefly at his side. “Stop drooling or Macie’s going to make me dress like this all the time.”
“That threat gives me zero incentive to stop drooling,” he rasped.
? ? ?
Macie’s housewife hunting was a flop, but running around West Hollywood while we observed her scavenger hunt certainly was not. She had us going to a nightclub she had been told was frequented by several her favorite reality-TV stars. Carter called Dom at dinner and asked him if he wanted to meet up with us at said club. Macie was promising it was just another two blocks, even though she said that seven blocks ago and we’d been walking for what felt like hours. My pinky toe kept falling out of the strap on my shoe. I stopped against a telephone pole to stick it back in. Macie and Jeremy trudged on ahead, but Carter only made it a few paces before he realized I was no longer next to him and he stopped too.
I finished fixing my shoe and stepped up to reach him as we fell back in line. I was walking next to the street, whereas Carter was to my right. After a few paces, he lightly grabbed my waist and pulled me in front of him as he stepped sideways and took a place to my left. “What’re you doing?” I asked.
“Walking next to the street,” he said offhandedly.
“Why?”
“It’s safer for you.” I could tell he was slowing his pace to keep back with me. He had at least six inches in height on me, so of course his strides were larger. The heels didn’t help me much. I knew I was walking slow. “What? DidJamesnot do that?”
