Chapter Sixteen

The entire ride to his father’s home, Will cursed himself for his lack of control. It was exactly as he’d feared. He’d been determined to put some distance between himself and Penelope today, proving that he didn’t need to be in near-constant contact with her. But every hour that passed was agony, and every time his phone rang, he couldn’t stop his disappointment when it wasn’t her. Just now, when picking her up, he couldn’t manage to be in her presence for more than thirty seconds before touching her.

Being in such a cramped space for the twenty minute drive only made things worse. He wanted nothing more than to pull her close and tuck her under his arm, to banish the uncertain look off her face. But right now, he needed his control back more than he needed to comfort her. More than that, he needed himself back. If he couldn’t manage that, they were through, no matter how much he wanted it to be otherwise.

So he didn’t touch her again during the ride, or when they climbed from the cab and headed up the brick walkway leading to the house he’d grown up in. Not for the first time, he wished his father had sold the damn thing instead of moving Uncle Rodger in and remodeling it. It didn’t matter if the rooms were different now or the kitchen almost unrecognizable. Will couldn’t help but see phantoms of his mother everywhere he turned.

And he hated himself for his weakness.

It was worse with Penelope at his side, a silent reminder of how everything could go sideways in the blink of an eye. She wasn’t doing anything except standing there, waiting for him to open the door and lead the way inside, but it was more than enough to undo him. She turned to him, opening her mouth to say… It didn’t matter what. He couldn’t talk about the ugly mix of emotions inside him—not now and perhaps not ever.

So he opened the door and called out a greeting that was answered by a handful of voices deeper inside. “This way.”

The clip of her heels on the wood floor followed him, the only sound she made. He knew he was being cold, knew it was confusing her, but he couldn’t stop. If he couldn’t retain the part of himself he most desperately needed when he was around her… The outcome was unthinkable.

In the kitchen, he found that the rest of his family had beaten them here. Sara rushed around the kitchen, pulling something that smelled delicious out of the oven, stirring a pot on the stove, and generally being a blonde, cooking whirlwind. She actually missed a step when Penelope stopped in the doorway, and her gaze flew to Will. He braced himself for the interrogation, but she spun on her heel and started sawing through the loaf of bread with significantly more force than necessary.

Knowing he wouldn’t escape when she finally decided to corner him, Will turned to the four people at the table—all wisely keeping away from Sara with her huge knife. His father looked like he’d aged another decade in the few months it had been since Will saw him, but there were laugh lines around his mouth, so maybe it wasn’t all bad news. With his longish sandy blond hair and weather worn face, Uncle Rodger looked more like a construction worker than the man who fixed other men’s problems, but he was the best in the city. And he was watching Sara with worry in his eyes. Will made a mental note to do some interrogating of his own—anything to get his mind off the woman standing slightly behind him.

Garrett looked up first, his face identical to Will’s—except for his hair, which he wore longer like their uncle—and the surprise that widened his eyes made Will wish he hadn’t invited Penelope. He could trust his father and uncle not to make things unbearable—at least until they had him alone—but his siblings had no such restrictions. The woman his twin currently had his arm around was Ridley, and their little slice of happiness brightened the room, which only served to shine a light on how miserable the rest of them were.

Garrett stood, keeping a hand on Ridley’s shoulder. “Penelope, was it?”

She laughed, the sound a little strained, and moved past Will to shake his twin’s hand. “Honestly, I’m surprised you remember. I think we only spoke for two minutes.”

“It was a memorable occasion.” He shot a glance at his fiancé, who blushed a fierce crimson.

Will realized he was being unbearably rude. He should have introduced Penelope the second they walked through the door. But it was too late now, because she moved around the room, smiling at his father and shaking his hand, and then repeating the introduction with his uncle. She stopped on the other side of the kitchen island, but Sara didn’t seem inclined to make it easy on her.

That finally got Will moving. He crossed to stand next to her. “Sara, this is Penelope.”

“Nice to meet you.” His sister still didn’t turn around, but the bread had taken on a smashed, misshapen look. “Why don’t you sit down? Dinner will be done in just a second.”

He moved to the massive table and held the chair out for Penelope and then took the seat next to her. It took a grand total of five seconds for his father to turn his attention onto Will. “It’s been awhile, son.”

It was a miracle the man managed to convey so much in four small words. But he refused to feel any guilt for staying away. If his father wanted to see him, he shouldn’t have threatened to set Will up with the neighbor girl. “I’ve been busy.”

“So have your sister and brother, but they manage to come around for a meal on a semi-regular basis.”

Garrett must have seen the writing on the wall because he cut in, “So, Penelope, what is it you do? I was slightly distracted when we met.” He ignored the elbow Ridley drove into his stomach and smiled. It didn’t take a genius to recognize that there had been something sexual going on between the two when the introductions were made all those months ago.

“I’m a business consultant with Carson & Associates.”

The urge rose to fill in the rest of the information—that she owned the company and that it had made leaps and bounds since her father retired and she took over. How she was one of the best in the business, and even before he’d shared her bed, he’d acknowledged that—at least to himself. Will sat back, clenching his jaw to keep the words in.

“A competitor to my twin, then.” Garrett grinned. “I hope you give him hell.”

“Sugar, you have no idea.” She shot him a look that promised hell later on, and he almost welcomed it.

He tried to shake off the melancholy mood dragging him down, but the way the conversation continued to flow, with Penelope fitting into the family dynamic like a long lost piece of the puzzle, only made it worse. Because it was only becoming more and more clear as time went on that the problem didn’t originate with her. Hell, the woman was as close to perfection as humanly possible.

No, the problem was him.

…

Penelope hadn’t been sure what to expect from Will’s family, but she was surprised to find she liked them. Oh, the sister had a set of claws and Garrett’s fiancé had been a little curt initially—understandably so, considering the only other time they’d met, Penelope had hit on Garrett—but overall, dinner had gone amazingly well.

As long as she ignored the fact that there was something seriously wrong with Will. He barely spoke, never touched her, and seemed to wish he were anywhere in the world but at this table. It couldn’t be more obvious that he regretted inviting her in the first place, but she couldn’t begin to guess why.

When dinner was cleaned up and drinks were served, the little sister turned that sharp blue gaze—so similar to her brothers’—on Penelope. She barely bad time to brace for trouble when the question came. “So, what happens if you end up married? Are you going to combine companies?”

She choked on her wine. Marriage? Combining companies?

Their father sounded quietly furious. “Sara Marie Reaver, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you today, but that was bullshit and you know it. Apologize.”

“It was a perfectly legitimate question,” said Sara. “If it’s serious enough to bring her to dinner—something Will has never done—then it’s serious.”

His sister obviously shared Will’s contrary nature. Penelope glanced around the room, taking in the tensions that showed no sign of dissipating anytime soon. Nothing good would come of staying. Penelope pushed to her feet and coughed again. “Will, I have a headache.”

He looked pathetically grateful for the escape. “As delightful as this has been, we’re leaving.” He nodded at his uncle and then strode to the door, leaving her to follow like a well-trained pet. She gritted her teeth, trailing after only because the only other option was staying there with the rest of the Reavers.

She picked up her pace as Will hit the street and turned right. There weren’t any cabs in sight, and since they were in the suburbs, they weren’t likely to find one for miles. But he obviously hadn’t thought about that when he’d walked out the door, because he was too busy throwing a temper tantrum. It was a huge lapse for a Dom. She stopped walking. “I’ll never dissolve Carson & Associates, Will.”

“No one’s asking you to.” He didn’t stop walking, but his quiet voice carried in the silence of the night.

Weren’t they? Because Sara’s question, inappropriate as it was, had shone a light on something lurking in the back of Penelope’s mind ever since she realized she was in danger of losing her heart to this man. What kind of future could they have as competitors? The logical solution was exactly what his sister suggested.

It made her sick to even think about.

She took two quick steps and put herself in his path. “Enough, Will. We can’t talk about this rationally until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“There’s nothing wrong.” He stepped off the sidewalk and went around her, never breaking his stride.

“What happened to there being honesty between us? Because you’re lying through your teeth right now.” His refusal to talk only spiked her fear higher. She should have pushed him last night, the second she knew something was off, instead of letting him stew all day. She’d been under the impression that if something was truly wrong, he’d come to her and they’d talk it out.

Apparently she’d been wrong.

He finally stopped charging ahead and actually looked at her. “I was demanding honesty of you.”

What? She rocked back on her heels. “That’s crap and you know it.”

“It’s the truth.”

And now he was throwing her own words back at her. How quickly they’d fallen from that near-perfect communication of the last few days. He’d demanded she bare her soul time and time again, and she’d done it. Now, he had something that needed to be addressed and suddenly he couldn’t return the favor? Inexcusable. “No, it’s not. It’s called cowardice, which is a word I never thought would be applied to you.”

“It’s not cowardly to keep parts of myself private.”

“It is when you’re demanding total and complete transparency from the person you’re dating.”

His went still, and for a second she was sure she saw naked longing on his face. But the expression was gone in an instant, replaced by his Ice King mask. His brows rose, and his mouth went tight. She had half a second to realize what was coming before he cut her off at the knees. “We’re not dating, Penelope.”

She saw what he was doing, plain as day, because it was exactly what she was fighting not to do. Retreat. Say something unforgivable to save herself from having to make the hard decisions that a relationship with him might mean. “I’m scared, too. We’d have to be stupid not to be.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She gritted her teeth. “Fine. We’re not dating. So what do you call fucking me and growling that you’ll be the last man who touches me?” When he didn’t immediately respond, she crossed her arms over her chest, determined to break through his barriers. “Surely you weren’t suggesting I join a nunnery when you’d decided to wash your hands of me?”

Not even a flicker. “Don’t be dense.”

“I’m not the one being dense in this conversation. You can’t have it both ways, Will.” Still there was no expression on his face, as if they were discussing whether to have coffee or tea. She wanted to smash through that mask, to make his heart feel like hers—as if it were being crushed into a million pieces. “Either we’re just fucking, or you have to actually tell the truth and admit that you feel something for me beyond lust.” Please admit that you feel something beyond lust, that I wasn’t the only one falling head over heels in this thing.

Again, that hesitation, the flicker of something more, that was immediately quashed. “It’s not my fault you couldn’t control your emotions. That burden falls on you and you alone.”

Just like that, it all clicked into place. The real thing he was scared of. It wasn’t the uncertainty the future brought. It was something else entirely. “That’s not the truth, either, is it? You lost your precious control and that has you terrified.” She stepped closer, putting her hand on his forearm. “You don’t have to be scared, Will. I mean, it’s terrifying falling—”

He laughed, the sound cutting through the night air like a blade. “In love? Please tell me you weren’t going to suggest that I would fall in love with you.”

That’s exactly what she was suggesting and he damn well knew it. “Aren’t you?”

Another laugh. “Don’t make this more than what it was—seven days of good sex and power games. Seven days that happen to be at their end tonight.”

He was really going to do it. He was ending things.

Penelope took a careful step back even though all she wanted was to feel his arms around her, shielding her from this pain. The thought almost made her laugh. The thing she wanted most to shield herself from was Will. She took another step back, her heart crying out with the loss. “I suppose I should thank you.”

“For what?” For a second, he sounded like the Will she knew and had fallen for, but when she searched his face, she found nothing warm.

So she retreated behind a mask of her own. She shivered in her coat, laying on the southern accent as thick and sweet as apple pie. “Well, sugar, you were a distraction I couldn’t afford. I was off my game when I was with you.” Her throat tried to close, but she spoke past it. “With you gone, I won’t miss a step again.”

“See that you don’t, Penelope.” He kept walking, and this time she didn’t follow.

But she couldn’t stop herself from delivering one last brutal parting shot. “It’s cowardice to walk away from something when you should fight. Apparently you’re more like your mother than either of us could have dreamed.”

She thought that might be enough to get him to stop. She was wrong. Instead she watched his figure grow smaller before he finally turned a corner and disappeared. Only then did she sink onto the curb and drop her head into her hands. She should have known this was going to happen, but she’d been so caught up in how good it felt to be around him that she hadn’t paid attention to the red flags that kept shooting up with every conversation they had. She’d been willing to let things fall through the cracks of her professional life because he’d made her feel so good in and out of the bedroom. She should have known better. Hadn’t her parents taught her that love didn’t do anything but drag down a person?

She was a fool, because only a fool would cry over a man who was too idiotic to realize what he had.

She fumbled for her phone, intending to call a cab, but that wasn’t the number she dialed. Instead, it was her father who answered. “Pen?”

“Dad…” She had to pause to get her tone closer to normal, and even then it was a pathetic imitation. “Dad, I need you.”