Irresistibly Yours (Oxford #1)(63)

“Huh,” Evan said noncommittally.

“You two used to work together, yeah?” Cole asked, faking ignorance.

Penelope stiffened slightly under his hand, and he rubbed his thumb along the nape of her neck. Trust me.

“Yeah, for a while,” Evan said, taking a sip of his wine.

“And now you work for…refresh my memory on the company name?”

“Sportiva,” Evan said.

Cole frowned, feigning confusion as he kept his gaze locked on Evan. “Sportiva. Wait, Tiny, wasn’t that the company you interviewed for?”

There was a beat of silence before Evan gave a nervous laugh.

Cole looked at Penelope to find her giving him a back off glare.

He glared back, trying to silently communicate. Come on, Penelope. Stand up for yourself. What are we doing here if not to put this * in his place?

She merely looked away, licking her lips nervously. “Yeah. I applied.”

Evan set his wineglass down, and his expression went from nervous to earnest. “Actually, Pen, I wanted to talk to you about that.” He shifted his gaze just briefly to Cole. “Maybe later this weekend we can get some time to chat?”

Oh, hell no.

Penelope was silent for several moments. Then, “Sure. Okay.”

Cole’s gaze whipped back toward her. What the f*ck?

But she wasn’t even looking at him. She and Evan were locked in some silent bubble of communication with Cole on the outside.

And it f*cking blew.

Cole’s grip tightened on his wineglass as he tried to tell himself that it didn’t bother him, but f*ck, of course it bothered him.

He wasn’t her boyfriend—he got that. But he treated her a hell of a lot better than this *.

He cared about her. A lot.

Just as Cole was wondering if he should make an excuse to leave the table before he made a fool of himself, he felt the soft brush of fingers against the back of his hand. Felt as her hand slid against his until they were palm to palm.

She turned her head then, meeting his eyes, smiling shyly as she linked her fingers with his.

He couldn’t look away, even though he knew this small woman could crack his heart in half.

Aw f*ck, Sharpe, you are in so much trouble.

She gave him a thoughtful look and then turned back to Evan. “Actually, Ev, I’m busy the rest of this weekend.”

Cole’s heart beat faster, wondering if he’d heard her correctly, and she squeezed his hand.

“Come on, Pen, it’s just—”

“If there’s something to say, you can say it now,” Penelope interrupted Evan in a quiet, firm voice.

The subtext of Penelope’s statement was clear: You are not worth a second more of my time.

Cole wanted to slow clap.

Evan’s smile faltered. “It’s, um…I was hoping we could talk, just the two of us.”

Penelope shrugged. “You lost that right when you used me to get ahead in your career.”

The other man’s laugh was nervous. “Which is what I wanted to talk to you about. I need to apologize—”

“Accepted,” she said.

Both Cole and Evan looked at her in shock.

She gave a little shrug. “I’ve wasted enough time on you, Evan. You screwed up. You treated me badly. I can continue to hang on to the anger and hurt or…I can move on.”

Evan started to reach across the table toward her, then caught sight of Cole’s glare and thought better of it. “Pen, I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed us—”

She held up her free hand—the one that wasn’t linked with Cole’s—and stopped the other man’s words.

“Hold on, Ev, just because I forgive you doesn’t mean we’re going back to the way things were. Even if I were still in Chicago, we can’t go back. You’re not my colleague anymore and you’re certainly not my friend. I don’t know that you ever were.”

Evan swallowed, looking increasingly panicked now. “I dumped Tara because of you. Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Cole cleared his throat pointedly, but Evan ignored him.

She shrugged again. “That’s not my problem, Evan.”

Evan gave a small smile, which Cole supposed was intended to look regretful but instead looked smarmy. “Come on, Pen. Give me a second chance. I deserve at least one more. Three strikes you’re out, and all that.”

Cole tensed. Enough with this bullshit. Cole enjoyed a sports reference as much as the next guy, but this was too much. Treating relationships like a game. Treating Penelope’s heart like it was some field to be navigated…

Cole wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Barstow, the job you stole from Penelope pays well, right?”

Evan blinked. “Um, what?”

“Good,” Cole said, as though the other man had responded affirmatively. “Then you won’t mind paying? I think we’re done here.”

Cole held out a hand to Penelope, his heart silently begging her not to reject it.

She placed her hand in his.

Placed her trust in him.

Penelope stood. “Goodbye, Evan.”

Cole listened carefully for any sign of misplaced regret in her voice and was relieved to hear nothing but finality.

They walked hand in hand from the restaurant, not bothering to turn around to see if Evan Barstow was sputtering about being stuck with the check or whether he was sitting there in shock.