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She drew back with reluctance and he let her go. The skin on his cheekbones burned almost as red as his beard and his eyes were charcoal. Their breaths mingled in short, sharp pants.
“I’ll take that as a yes to dinner.” She turned the ignition key with trembling fingers.
Chapter Sixteen
Less than a week and a half after his fragile reconciliation with his daughter, Cash was once again feeling out of place in a crowd of people he didn’t know well. Unlike Elle’s birthday, this time the fault was entirely his.
The previous Sunday, he and Penta had gone for another ride. At her suggestion, they’d headed west and stopped at a café with a view of a long narrow lake rimmed with year-round homes and holiday cabins. As they sipped their coffee, she had invited him to her family’s traditional June barbeque. “It’s a way to celebrate the end of the school year and kick off summer. Since the divorce it’s just been me and the kids, a few of their friends, and my parents. This year I’m thinking of inviting Mark and Jacinta. I don’t know whether her boys will come.”
“And you want me there?” He ripped a piece off the enormous cinnamon bun they were sharing. The bread was soft and warm and sticky with sweetness. Rather like Penta, he thought.
“I don’t care what Mark thinks of me, but given what he said the first time you met, I can’t wait to see his face when he realizes we’re dating.” Her grin had turned shy. “That’s what this is, right? Dating? It’s been so long since I’ve done it I’m not sure.”
They had yet to progress beyond searing kisses and above-the-clothes caresses. He didn’t think he’d ever had a relationship move so slowly. But he was terrified of ruining whatever was growing between them. Penta was the best thing that had happened to him in a long time. Maybe forever. He could wait for her to be ready before moving to the next level.
“Yes,” he had answered. “We are definitely dating. And if you want me at the party, I’ll come.” Even though the thought made him sweat.
The most nerve-wracking thing so far had been meeting Penta’s father.
“Call me Jeremy.” Mr. Wicken’s grip was strong and firm, brown eyes sharp behind silver-framed glasses. “Why don’t you get us a couple beers and we’ll have a chat.”
Despite the ominous tone of the politely worded command, their “chat” had been devoid of confrontation. Jeremy asked thoughtful questions about Cash’s business and shared humorous stories from his years teaching high school math. He wished Mr. Wicken had been one of his teachers. Maybe he would have done better than scrape by if he’d had more instructors who exuded the same wit and integrity.
They sat on lawn chairs in the back yard. On the deck, Felix manned the barbeque. Abra and Delilah laughed and chattered with their own friends, sprawled on blankets spread over the soft, springy grass. He hadn’t seen Cyril yet.
It was all very suburban and domestic, and totally outside his frame of reference.
Penta popped in and out of the house, carrying loads of food and dishes to the outdoor table. Cash had offered to help, but she’d shooed him away. “Go. Talk with Dad about man things. You can help clear up later.”
Her assumption he’d stay to the end of the party eased more of his nervousness. She obviously wasn’t worried he’d cause another scene. He’d do his damnedest not to betray her trust.
“What has Penta told you about Mark?” Jeremy sipped from his long-necked bottle, his gaze on his granddaughters.
Cash stiffened. On the surface, Penta and Jeremy had a close, loving relationship. But how much did a daughter tell her father about her marriage? He answered with caution, determined not to betray her confidences. “She said he was the one who asked for a divorce.”
“It sounds very bloodless put that way. It was a terrible time. Penta wanted to try counselling. He completely refused. She never said anything outright, but I gather he blamed her, laid the failure of their marriage on her shoulders. Pah.” His exclamation was full of contempt.
While Cash shared the same sentiment, he had no idea how he was expected to respond, so kept quiet.
“She’s better off without him, but it took her a long time to see that.”
Still confused as to why Jeremy was telling him these things, Cash only grunted an acknowledgment. The moisture on the bottle of beer he held was a mixture of condensation and palm sweat.
Jeremy turned his bright gaze on him. “Penta told you we lost her mother last year?”
The abrupt topic change set his head spinning faster. “Yes.”
“I loved that woman dearly, but she could drive me insane. And I did the same to her. But we trusted each other to never give up. We were a team. That’s what I want Penta to have.”
A red caution flag waved violently in his mind’s eye. Here it comes.
“If you’re going to be like her ex and throw in the towel when the going gets tough, you might as well leave right now.” He pointed a finger past Cash, toward the gate leading out of the yard. “And speak of the devil...”
Cash looked over his shoulder to see an obnoxiously grinning Mark stroll in, one arm slung possessively around a tiny dark-haired woman.
PENTA STOLE QUICK SIDEWAYS glances at her father and Cash as she ferried food, drink, and other items from the kitchen to the back yard.
In the years since her divorce, she hadn’t introduced her dad to any new men—mostly because there had been none. Telling him about Cash would have been fraught with awkwardness even if he hadn’t had a prison sentence. Knowing her father’s predilection for research, however, she’d made a clean breast of things and braced for a polite but penetrating interrogation.
