gone to Alberto’s for supper that night, a lovely little Italian restaurant about half an hour away. The food had been delicious and filling, and they’d opted to take their desserts to go—tiramisu for Ward, cannoli for her, and they added a lemon ricotta cake for Hazel, who loved all things lemon.
Hazel had been tickled that they’d thought of her, but Penny had seen her eyeing each of the desserts with equal exuberance. They’d opted to split each one three ways, then took their plates of treats outside to the front porch to enjoy.
“So remind me again, Penny,” Hazel said as she pressed the tines of her fork into the last remaining crumbs on her plate. “You and your girlfriends aren’t coming until Saturday this week, correct?”
Penny nodded, lingering over her own desserts, savoring the flavors with each bite. “Liz has made a shift change and now has her weekends off, but that means she can’t do Wednesday mornings. It’s not the greatest time for Juno and Addison, but Juno has a great crew who are usually happy for the extra hours, and Addison is working on trying to switch hours with another agent. She’s good for this Saturday, and starting next week, if everyone can make it happen with their schedules, we’ll go to every other Saturday.”
“I just think it’s wonderful that you girls are making your friendships a priority this way. And that you include me in the group is just lovely. I don’t even mind that we spend the majority of the time working in the gardens—collective group therapy, right? Especially since I’m reaping the benefits.” To Ward, she said, “Have you seen the back yard lately, Ward?”
“I haven’t,” he said. “I’ve been too busy entertaining your houseguest.” Ward shot Penny a curious look. She quickly dropped her gaze to the last few bites of her cannoli.
“Well, maybe you two can take a romantic stroll out there on your next date,” Hazel suggested with a playful smile directed back and forth between them. “The paths are clear enough to walk down and so many things are blooming right now.”
“We’ll have to do that,” Ward said.
“We’re not dating, Hazel,” Penny said at almost the exact same time.
“I know, Sweet Pea. But an old girl can dream, can’t she?” Hazel patted Penny’s arm, then said, “I’m done in, kids. I think me and the dogs are going to call it a night.”
A few minutes later, after the sounds inside the house had settled, indicating that Hazel had closed herself in her own quarters, Ward turned to her. “I take it you haven’t said anything to Hazel about why your club is meeting.” It wasn’t a question, and a stone of discomfort settled low in her stomach.
She pushed her plate toward the middle of the table, feeling a little sick after so much rich food. “I decided to wait until the garden is all cleaned up. We’re almost there. My goal is for it to be finished by the time her guests arrive in August, but we’re going to officially tell her about it and the website the week before.”
“Huh. Okay.” He took a sip of his coffee—it was probably lukewarm by now—and grimaced just the tiniest bit.
“I know you think I should tell her now, but I want it to be a surprise. I think it will mean so much to her that all these women are gathering together to support her this way. It’s a good thing, Ward.”
He nodded slowly as he toyed with the handle of his mug, his finger tracing the curve of the handle, up and down, up and down. “I agree that it’s a good thing, Penny. And I think she’ll be deeply touched by your efforts.”
“But?” she prompted when he didn’t continue.
He lifted his gaze to hers and smile gently, making Penny squirm. She wasn’t going to like what he had to say; she just knew it. “But what if you’re wrong?”
“Wrong about what?”
“Wrong about what she wants and why she’s let things happen the way they have. What if she’s not in financial trouble? What if she simply doesn’t want to spend her summer months entertaining strangers? What if she’s slowing down and she’s just fine with it?”
Penny got to her feet and crossed the porch to rest her hands on the wide rail. With her back to him, she could think a little clearer. Over her shoulder, she said, “You know, what we’re doing in the garden isn’t hurting anyone. It’s making her home a nicer place, that’s all. We’re not creating more work for her. We’re not making her do anything at all. And the website? She can just say ‘no’ if she doesn’t want to go that route. But what if she sees it and realizes that all her fears about it were for nothing? You should see it, Ward. It’s beautiful,” she said, turning back to face him. “And so simple—”
Ward was only a few feet from her, his hands in his pockets as he made his way over to stand beside her. She hadn’t even heard him get up from the table.
“It’s the why that bothers me. Not your why. I know why you’re doing this. Because you’re an amazing human being who wants to bring a little extra sunshine into everyone else’s lives.”
Penny had to look away from him, unable to hold his gaze. The way he looked at her as he said those words made her knees weak, and she was glad she still clutched the railing in both hands. She leaned against it, but before she could thank him for the compliment, he went on.
“It’s Hazel’s why that’s been eating at me. I can’t imagine she’s let things go simply because she doesn’t care.”
“Of course not,” Penny agreed.
“And she says she’s not sick.”
“We already covered that, and I haven’t seen any sign of illness, Ward. Believe me, I’ve been watching for it, too. I don’t think she’d out and out lie to me, but I do know she’s holding something close to the vest.”
“It doesn’t make sense that it’s financial, then.” Ward spoke quietly beside her, but he was no longer looking at her. “If she needed money, she’d find ways to fill all the rooms. If it meant a website, she’d have gotten one ages ago. She only uses her age when she needs an excuse people can’t argue with.”
“Well, if its not financial, what do you think it is?” Penny asked, getting a little irritated. She didn’t want to argue, and this felt a lot like it was heading in that direction.
He hesitated for a weighted moment, then said, “Has she said anything to you about selling this place?”
“What?” Penny gasped. The thought had never crossed her mind. The Garden Gate Guesthouse without Hazel? It didn’t seem feasible. “No, Ward. She’s never even so much as mentioned it.”
“Okay.” He turned around and braced his backside against the rail so he could look more directly at her. Then he reached over, took her hand in his, and lifted it to his lips to plant a kiss on her knuckles. “Let’s not argue about this, okay? I trust you, Penny, because I know you. I know your heart and your intentions, and they’re good.”
Penny let the words wash over her, a soothing balm to her soul. He did know her. He may not know everything about her, but he knew her. And it felt good to be known by him. “Thank you,” she said, wondering what it would feel like to have him plant a kiss on her lips instead.
As if reading her thoughts, still holding her hand, he slowly drew her closer until she was standing in front of him. The porch light behind her shown on his face, and she could see the play of intense emotions in his expression. “Penny.”
“Yes?” The word came out rushed and breathless.
“I want to kiss you.” He brushed the curve of her jaw with his fingertips, his thumb tracing the dip just below her bottom lip. “May I kiss you?”
Penny opened her mouth to list all the reasons why they shouldn’t let whatever was happening happen, but her voice decided to suddenly and inexplicably go AWOL on her. Flapping her bottom jaw like a guppy, she shook her head, managed to get out, “Uhh,” then she closed her mouth hard, her teeth clacking together.
Ward took a small step closer, and Penny knew she should take one giant step back, but apparently, her feet had gone on strike, too.
And why wasn’t she breathing? She was starting to feel lightheaded. Breathe! Take a breath! Now!
Ward’s gaze dropped to her lips, and she tried to swallow, but instead, made an odd gulping sound at the back of her throat. Her whole body flushed hotly from the cauldron of feelings swirling through her.
As though someone stood behind her, pushing her gently in the middle of her back, she leaned forward until she was so close, she could feel the heat of his body. “Ward,” she whimpered.
Yes, she whimpered. Gah.
“Penny?” This time her name was a question, a request for permission. His voice didn’t sound any stabler than hers did, and a tremor of anticipation skimmed down her spine.
He turned her hand in his and pressed it flat against his chest right over his heart. Before she could freak out over what to do with her other hand, he slid an arm loosely around her waist and drew her up against him.
That was all it took for her limbs to figure out what to do on their own. Her free hand skimmed up his arm and over the curve of his shoulder until her palm rested against the back of his neck, her fingers buried in his hair.
“I’d like that,” she whispered, and then she stood up on tiptoe, pulled his head down, closed her eyes, and pressed her mouth to his.
Ward kissed her like a starving man at a banquet, cupping her face in one hand, clutching her close with his other arm now wrapped around her waist. She moaned softly against his lips, surrendering to the sensations that flooded through her.
Still up on tiptoes, her knees began to tremble, her ankles wobbling, and she wrapped both arms around his neck, stretching up into him as tall as she could go.
He must have felt her wobble, because he made a harsh sound against her lips, then scooped her up in his arms, his mouth not leaving hers for more than a moment. Effortlessly, he carried her over to one of the large patio chairs and lowered them both into it, so that he was now cradling her on his lap. Penny sighed softly and settled more comfortably into his embrace.
The pure luxury of no longer having to hold herself upright, of leaning into someone else for a change, of surrendering the tight-fisted control she clung to every day of her life washed over her like a wave. To her utter mortification, tears began to trickle from the corners of her eyes, even while her mouth moved over his.
He didn’t jerk backward or say something insensitive, like, “What’s going on?” in a freaked-out guy voice. No, Ward did something worse. He began pressing tender kisses along her jawline, on each cheek, the tip of her nose, her eyes—he’d probably get mascara on his lips—and then he rested his forehead against hers. He just held her, their breath mingling, hearts racing, the cocoon of emotions wrapped around them.
“Wow.” The word came out of him drenched in awe. “I’ve been wanting to do that since—since—” He broke off like he wasn’t quite sure when he’d started thinking about kissing her.
“Since I tore down your bubble tent?” she asked softly, teasing, but half serious, too. If she remembered right, he hadn’t been completely unaffected by her that day. Oh, she wasn’t delusional. She doubted he’d been desperate to kiss her from the moment they met. But there’d been a moment or two when the sparks between them had seemed borderline explosive.
“Well, maybe not at that exact moment,” he said, lifting his head just enough so he could see her face. “But when I came charging out of the house to save you—you screamed, remember? And I saw you flirting with Alex on the front porch—”
“I wasn’t flirting with Alex,” she snorted, stiffening in the circle of his arms.
“Maybe not, but Alex was flirting with you, and it was at that moment that I thought maybe I’d screwed up by chasing you off.”
Penny stared at him in confusion. “Then why did you act like that? I mean, you picked up my stuff and practically threw it in my trunk. You couldn’t wait for me to be gone.”
Ward pulled her closer, his arms tightening around her, lacing his fingers together at the back of her hip. “I couldn’t wait for Alex to not have access to you,” he admitted sheepishly. “I figured I’d try to make it up to you later, when his handsome mug wouldn’t be around to compete with.”
“Oh.” She rested her head against his shoulder, glad he couldn’t see her burning cheeks. “Oh. I see.”
“That coffee?”
She lifted her head again. “What coffee?” she asked slowly.
“That was from me. That first day at Juno’s. It really was a peace offering.” Ward’s smile curved up on one side, and he planted a kiss against her temple. “I knew I’d messed up with you at Hazel’s, and I was hoping for a reset. But then I went and messed that attempt up, too.”
“That should have set off warning bells in both our heads, you know,” she murmured, breathing in the clean, crisp smell of his shaving cream or aftershave or soap or whatever it was that guys used around their faces. Having grown up without a father, she didn’t have much experience with watching a guy perform his ablutions, and the variety of products—for both men and women, if she were being honest—was a little confusing to her. “You smell so good,” she gushed. Then she stilled, hoping he wouldn’t laugh. Not that she’d blame him if he did. “Sorry. I didn’t realize I was going to say that out loud.”
He did laugh then, and the gentle rumble of it vibrated through her. “Warning bells?” he asked, referring to what she’d said a moment ago.
“Yeah. You know, in romance novels or movies, when the main characters start out all scrappy and snarky with each other? They’re bound to end up together. That’s just the way it happens.”
“Even in real life?”
Penny straightened and slipped a hand up to cup his jaw, the hint of stubble a slight rasp against her palm. She looked at him and smiled. “Apparently so.” Then she kissed him, light and sweet.
The kiss didn’t stay light and sweet though, and a few fathomless minutes later, when his phone rang from his back pocket, they both jumped and jerked apart as though they’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t.
“I—I’m not going to get that,” Ward said, breathlessly. He started to pull her close again, but she braced a hand on his chest.
“You can’t just let it ring,” she admonished, even though she was breathing just as heavily, and wanted just as badly to get back to the kissing. “Don’t you at least need to see who it is? What if it’s your parents?” A tiny tremor of fear tickled the back of her throat as she imagined the worst.
“Right. Sure.” He reached back to pull it from his pocket and brought it around so he could see the screen.
She felt it. She was cradled in his arms, her body pressed against his. There was no way she couldn’t have felt the way he stiffened when he saw—when they both saw—the name and contact photo on his phone screen.
Rochelle. A very, very beautiful woman named Rochelle whose contact picture was of her and Ward, arms around each other, cheeks pressed together in one of those theme park photo booths.
And it wasn’t just a phone call. It was a video chat.
Ward silenced the ringer and shoved the phone back into his pocket. “Sorry. Not important.”
But when he made to pick up where they’d left off, when he tried to draw her back to him, Penny resisted, gently unwinding his arms from around her. He closed his eyes and let her slide off his lap.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, looking up at her. “That’s not—she’s not—” he broke off completely and scrubbed his hands over his face. He leaned forward in the chair, bracing his elbows on his knees, and looked up at her. “That wasn’t what it looked like,” he finally said.
Penny backed up until she bumped into the edge of the swing behind her. She dropped clumsily into it, setting the thing rocking wonkily. “I’m not exactly sure what it looked like,” she said, watching him. He still hadn’t looked at her. “But she’s obviously important to you.”
“She was,” he corrected, finally meeting her gaze. She read the truth in his eyes, but then why was she calling him at ten o’clock on a Monday night? “She’s not anymore.”
Penny took a steadying breath, but her pulse was racing so hard that it felt like her heart might burst through her ribcage at any moment. “That picture—and the fact that she’s calling you this late—kind of says otherwise.”
“It’s two hours behind in California,” he said, as if that made things so much better. He said nothing in defense of the picture.
“It’s okay, Ward.” This was why she needed to stick to her rules. This kind of drama was what she didn’t need in her life right now. “I should have asked if there was anyone else—”
He cut her off. “There’s no one else, Penny. She’s my ex-girlfriend. It’s been over for months.” His eyes pleaded with her to believe him. “She decided I wasn’t worth the distance between us.”
She did believe him, but she wasn’t going to argue her case. Because in another five and a half weeks, she was heading home to care for her sick mother, and from what Ward had told her, he planned to wrap things up in Autumn Lake by the end of the summer, too. He would be returning to California. He would be returning to her. The distance between them would no longer exist.
“She’s not in my life anymore, Penny.”
Penny blinked once, slowly, then said, “But she is, isn’t she? She just called you. A video chat, no less. She wanted to see you. And if I hadn’t been here? If you weren’t in the middle of kissing me? You’d have taken her call, wouldn’t you?”
Ward lurched up out of the chair and paced to the railing. He turned around and leaned against it again, but she could tell there was nothing casual or relaxed about him. “I’m not going to lie to you, Penny. I would have taken the call. We had a strange conversation the other day, and I’ve been a little worried about her.”
Penny nodded, glad he wasn’t lying, but her stomach hurt over what he’d just acknowledged. “So this isn’t just some random call from her. This is an ongoing conversation.”
Ward shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. I haven’t talked to her since early April, Penny. Months ago. Then two weeks ago, my business partner—I told you about him, right? Johnny suggested I call her; said he thought something was wrong. I did, and she pretty much shut me out. I had no plans to call her back after that, but her behavior toward me was not normal, validating Johnny’s concern. So yeah, if I hadn’t been with you, I probably would have answered the call.”
Penny nodded again. She felt a little like one of those dashboard dolls, the way her head kept bobbing up and down.
“But that doesn’t make me a bad person, Penny. It doesn’t change the way I feel about you. And it shouldn’t change the way you feel about me.” He started toward her, but she rose, too, and held out both hands toward him, palms out in a gesture that plainly told him not to come any closer.
“It doesn’t change how I feel about you,” she told him, her eyes beginning to sting at how much it hurt to admit that. “It only changes what I do about those feelings.”
“Please, Penny.” He reached out a hand toward her, but she backed up. “If you want, I’ll call her back right now and you can listen in on the conversation.”
“What? Why on earth would I want to do that?” she asked, appalled at the suggestion.
“Because I’m telling you the truth. There’s nothing between us. It’s over.” His phone beeped in his pocket. She’d left a message. A long message, apparently.
“Maybe you should check that,” she said, turning to the table and starting to gather up their dessert dishes and coffee cups.
Ward practically whipped his phone out of his back pocket and swiped it open. “Yes. Of course. Listen to her message with me. You’ll see.”
“Ward, you sound desperate.”
“I am desperate. I’m desperate for you to believe me.”
“I do believe you,” she insisted, but he kept tapping on his phone screen. “Stop it. I don’t want to hear—”
“Hey, baby. Facetime me back as soon as you can, okay? I want to see that gorgeous—” Ward let out a low growl and ended the message.
Penny stood frozen on the spot, a plate in each hand. She wanted to throw them both at him, but thankfully, she couldn't seem to get any of her limbs to cooperate again. Which was a good thing, because the plates were delicate cut-glass and part of a large set, and they would not have survived. “I think you’d better go home, Ward.”