Trouble (Dogwood Lane #3)(18)

Tonight, I’m going to find out because my bath earlier this evening failed me.

I expected my best bubble bath and thriller novel would help redirect my thoughts away from Penn. But when I got out and dried off and realized I hadn’t read a word and was still thinking about his stupid smile, I decided I needed another tactic. One with people, food, and a new energy.

Bolstered by the kindness shown to me at the salon this week, and the loneliness at Harper’s with her gone, I grab my purse. Once my feet are on the pavement, a sweet nighttime air greets me. It’s filled with laughter and the twinkle of lights from a small outdoor patio that’s attached to the building.

The ambiance reminds me of college.

A bright-eyed woman about my age is exiting as I reach the front of the restaurant. She holds the door open.

“Thank you,” I say.

“You’re welcome,” she says, her red curls springing around her shoulders. She waits until I step inside before releasing the door.

I don’t hear it shut. From the television blaring a baseball game on the wall to the patrons shoulder to shoulder in the tight dining area to the heavy scent of oregano, it’s sensory overload. As I look for a clear path through the crowd, I spy a woman at the end of the counter.

“You heading to the patio?” she calls out.

“I’m trying to,” I say.

She motions for me. “Come this way and then scoot along the wall.” She points to her left as I get closer. “There was a town council meeting tonight. It brings them in like flies.”

I nod, not bothering to reply because her attention is already redirected to the kitchen. After saying “excuse me” several times and sucking in my stomach to get behind a high chair holding an adorable little girl, I make it to the door.

My foot hits the brick pavers outside just before I look up . . . and stop.

The sweet scent in the air is now kissed by a cool, crisp cologne that I recognize immediately. It takes only a quick glance to my right to ensure I’m correct.

Penn Etling.

Naturally, he’s here.

He’s leaning against a table that’s outfitted to look like a tiki bar. A beer in his hand, his hair a sexy, rumpled mess, he’s the nightmare of my dreams. And while the idea of feasting my eyes on him while I feast on a burger doesn’t seem like a terrible plan in theory, when he looks my way and a smirk settles on his stupidly kissable lips, that idea is less appetizing.

Because damn it if I don’t want him, even when I know I shouldn’t.

He sets his beer on the bar. With a swagger that should be illegal, he moseys my way. “When I said I’d be seeing ya, I’ll admit I thought I was going to have to work harder to make that happen.”

“Just pointing out the fact that you didn’t have to put any work into making it happen.”

“Yeah. I know. It’s fate.”

“No,” I say with a laugh. “It’s called ‘Mucker’s is the only place open.’”

He frowns. “You know, I didn’t have you pegged as a fun-sucker. But here we are.”

I can’t help but chuckle. His words are playful, his tone smooth and unassuming. But the heat in his eyes, the mischief lurking right behind his lashes, is anything but.

My chest rises and falls much quicker than I’d like, but there’s not a lot I can do. Every cell in my body tugs toward the man in front of me, and it takes all the restraint I can muster to stay cool.

“I’m a good sucker of fun . . . Don’t you say a word,” I say, wagging a finger his way. My cheeks heat at the opening I just gave him.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play innocent with me. I saw your eyes light up like Christmas trees.”

A slow grin slips across his lips. “Oh, did you think hearing you say the words ‘fun’ and ‘suck’ was going to have an effect on me?” He shifts his weight, crossing his muscled arms in front of him. “You’re damn right it did.”

The other patrons’ gazes are shifting my way. I can’t even care. I’m too busy trying to figure out how to navigate being around Penn.

Diverting my gaze away from him, I spy Harper and give her a wave. “What are you doing here, anyway?” I ask.

“I’m having a beer with my buddy Matt. What about you?” His eyes twinkle with anticipation.

“I’m meeting Harper.”

“Just the two of you?”

“I think she’s meeting a friend or something,” I say. “I’m just here as the third wheel. Or fifth. Or whatever it ends up being.”

He sticks his tongue in his cheek. “I can’t say I’m sorry to hear that.”

I try to flash him a disapproving look, but he makes it impossible. The overt sexiness that seeps from his pores is mixed with a playful energy that makes it virtually impossible to not be entertained by his antics.

“You’re a handful,” I tell him.

“Two handfuls, thank you very much. Now come on and meet Matt.”

My heart skips a beat as I realize the toe I thought I was dipping into the deep end is suddenly my whole foot. And if I don’t watch it, I’ll slide right into that pool and drown faster than I can ask for help.

This is how it happens. One minute, you’re vulnerable to a smile. The next, you’re meeting his friends. Five minutes later, you’re in his bed, having the orgasm of your life.