“I’m not going to lie. I was smitten with you the minute I met you. I know you saw me smile at you that first night at the bar. However, I was too preoccupied with my cousin to do anything about it then. I also know that Siobhán considers me damaged goods. And she’s right, to a point. I didn’t trust that someone as beautiful as you could be such a good person. Not after what I’dbeen through. That’s why I let myself be persuaded so easily that you weren’t.”
“What? When? What do you mean?” Penelope had been caught up in the flow of his words and unprepared for this unexpected twist. “What did I ever do that…?”
“Seamus.”
She could see the hurt in his eyes. It surprised her how badly she felt the need to make it go away. “But you saw that I didn’t want that. That was a mistake. We talked about….”
“Not that night,” he corrected her.
“Then, when… oh.” The fact that this hadn’t occurred to her sooner made her feel like a fool. She turned her back to him as she put the pieces together, her mind slowly working out the puzzle that she hadn’t bothered to dwell on earlier. Finally, she turned back. “It was you. You brought me home that night I went out with him.”
“Who else?” he said with a shrug.
“But I never saw you.”
“That’s because you were passed out when I got there, practically snoring,” he teased. The joke did not quite reach his eyes. “Seamus told me you’d been out together. I think he was planning on waking you and continuing your date, but I insisted he let me take you home.”
“That explains….” she trailed off, feeling the pang of regret.
“Knowing you’d gone out with him, well that sucked. But I’d be damned if I was going to leave you there with him. I wasn’t giving up that easily.”
“You need to know I never would have gone if Bonnie hadn’t….” she began vehemently defending herself, wanting to make it better.
He held up his hands, stopping her. “It’s okay. I know now. And if I’d understood how meddling my cousin was, I wouldn’thave let her talk me into believing what I should have known was a lie.”
This time, she knew exactly what he was talking about. “When she said I wasn’t interested in you.”
“Yeah.”
The worst of their misunderstandings explained, their bodies drew together, seeking the comfort they could now offer each other.
“I don’t think either of us thought she’d go as far as she did,” Penelope admitted quietly. “She’s not herself lately.”
“And there it is,” Finn chuckled lightly. “That kindness. That understanding. If it weren’t for you, she’d have gotten a lot more from me on the subject.”
His tone, his words, and the way he held her made her feel like something treasured. Cutting off the rest of the conversation, she lifted herself onto her tiptoes, reaching up to his neck to boldly pull him to her, unafraid of who might see them.
Finn responded in kind, moving them as one off the path into the trees.
“I told you, Mammy,” came the unwelcome voice again, this time raised in a squeal.
Penelope only pulled away enough to bury her head in his chest. “This is ridiculous,” she mumbled. “Didn’t you get a room for us?”
It had been easy to feel bold standing among the trees, fully clothed, desire racing through her body. That fire had even carried Penelope unabashedly through the hotel and up to their room. Taking a moment to freshen up had been a mistake, though. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, she felt all her insecurities rushing back to her.
Finn, in a romantic gesture, had offered to get them a bottle of champagne. Now, she wished she hadn’t let him leave. On the other hand, that might be exactly what she needed.
Knowing if she were still in the bathroom when he returned, she’d never come out, Penelope stepped back into their room. Glancing at the bags they’d dropped by the door, she wondered briefly if she should change. “Into what?” she asked herself flatly. “Your sweats?” She hadn’t exactly packed anything sexy.
Instead, her nervous energy carried her around the room. Finn had truly picked a beautiful place and no doubt paid the price for it. The far wall was primarily composed of windows, offering a view of the surrounding trees and the lake. There was a desk and lamp off to one side and an armoire off to the other. Separating the view from the bed was a velvety red couch with a small round table in front of it. This felt like a safe space. Facing the window, she could almost breathe normally.
Behind her was the white island that was the queen-sized bed, crisply made and equally inviting and terrifying to her. On the wall between the couch and the bed was a full-sized mirror. Like the bed, it called to her like a trap—set and baited.
She was still by the window when she heard the key in the lock, and Finn stepped in carrying the bottle of champagne in a chiller and two flutes.
“Hey,” he entered the room with gusto, then faltered, coming to a stop.
Penelope could feel her glance questioning him as his eyes drank her in. She felt exposed, unable to stop herself from awkwardly crossing her arms in front of her stomach.
