Dalton
“Hey, can I ask you a favor?” Penny says as she approaches me in the hallway. I’m on my way toward the car service that takes me to my office every morning. Her hair is still damp from the shower, and I get a whiff of her shampoo. Instant boner. I’m in a bad place.
“Shoot.” As a rule I don’t do favors, but I’m curious.
“I have to get across town this morning, and it’s raining. Are you going downtown? Even if I go as far as your office, it’ll help. Don’t feel that you have to say yes.”
“I never feel that way.”
She smiles as if she expected me to say that. “So?”
“Sure, I may have to make a few calls on the way though.”
“No problem.” She pops earbuds in.
I let her take the lead toward the elevator so I can watch her ass pump up and down in her yoga pants. It’s my favorite look on her. I nearly ask her what she’s doing across town, but I can hear her music and know she won’t hear me unless she takes the earbuds out. Which means I’m the one who wants to chat. I’m not going to give her that satisfaction. Not fucking her was a good choice.
We walk then ride as if we’re strangers sitting by each other on the T. Exactly what I’d want on most occasions, but I don’t like it. I nudge her, and she turns her music off. “We’re nearly at my office. The driver will take you the rest of the way. Where are you heading?”
A strange look flashes across her face before she shakes her head no. I pegged her as someone with nothing to hide, but now I’m not so sure. She looks like she’s choking on a secret.
“I’ll take a bus.”
“Where are you going?” I press.
She gives me a long look. “Does it matter?”
“Maybe.” Although if she insisted I wouldn’t be able to produce a reason why.
“I’m going to see my father. It’s a complicated situation I don’t like to talk about. Okay?”
She doesn’t have to tell me anything. Her entire life is none of my fucking business. If my car had an ejection seat, I would have outed her right then. Instead, I said gruffly, “You looked like something was wrong.”
Her expression softens. “See, you do care about me.”
My heart starts going maniacal in my chest. I probably should go see a doctor. Every day brings a new symptom that something isn’t right with me. “Reading people is part of my job. You looked like there was something you didn’t want to share, and I was right. Nothing more than a test to see if I was correct.” I let my tone announce the subject was one I’d already lost interest in, even though I felt off-balance.
“You sound just like my mother and sister.” She breathes out loudly, looking disappointed in me. “It’s always strategic. There’s always a winner and loser. Doesn’t that get exhausting?”
“No.” Maybe, but I’m not about to admit that.
“You need a life coach,” Penny says, snapping her fingers together. “Someone to show you how to relax.”
“If either of us needs a coach, it’s you. A sex life coach.”
“And I suppose you think you’re qualified for the position?”
“I don’t want to brag, but yes.”
“Is sex all you think about?”
“I’m a man, so I say this with pride—yes. Mostly. I also think about work, and food when I’m hungry.”
“Everything’s a joke to you, but I don’t believe you’re really having great sex.”
“And I doubt you hit the threshold to even file income taxes.”
“Ouch. You really got me there.” She taps her chin. “But do I care what you think of my employment choices? Um. No.”
“You should. Money is power and power is everything. Your sister understands that.”
“I’d love to see you out of that suit—even if it’s for only one day.”
“What a coincidence, my first tip to you would be to lose your clothing too.”
“You’re hopeless.”
I lean forward and hit the button to close the partition between us and the driver. “And you’re curious.”
“I’m not,” she says, but I can see her eyes flashing with nervousness. I’ve hit on the truth, and she knows it.
I tell myself to stop now. Hadn’t I already decided this was a bad idea? “You’re right. Maybe you should stick to your vanilla sex.”
“Vanilla? What does that even mean?”
She’s started this. Opening the door to this topic. How can I not walk through it? “It means I doubt you’ve had three orgasms in a row. And I’m talking about back-tightening, legs-quaking, screaming-for-mercy orgasms.” I look at her long and hard, raking my eyes over her body. “The reason you can break up with people and remain friends with them is because whatever you did together was sadly forgettable.”
Her eyes narrow. “You’re a real ass sometimes. At least the people I’ve been with care about me. Can you say the same? I don’t think so.”
Touché. She is right, which bothers me, even though it never did before. “So testy. You need to get laid—the right way.”
“And you need a friend—one you don’t f—have sex with.”
“Fuck. Say it. It’s the first step toward good sex for you.”
“I have no problem with the word,” she argues back with bravado. “Fuck you. Fuck your opinion of my sex life. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. See, I’m perfectly fine with it.”
“You just made that my favorite word.”
She rolls her eyes. “Favorite? I assumed it was the only one you knew.”
I laugh. She’s funny even when she’s not trying to be. “Have dinner with me tonight.”
“Can’t. I have plans.”
Plans? I want to ask her with who but I stop myself. As a practice, I don’t care about who a woman is with before or after me. They’d have to matter for me to care about that and they don’t.
Nor does Penny.
The car pulls up to my building. I lower the window and instruct my driver to leave his phone number with Penny so he can take her home after her visit with her father.
“That’s not necessary. I can take the bus,” Penny says. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be there.”
I slide out of the car. “I have too much work to get through today to worry about how you’ll get home.”
She smiles and my heart does a somersault. “Such a softie under all that growl.”
I close the door and walk away. The anger rising in me has nothing to do with her. Why am I offering my driver to get her home? Because of the rain? Right, because of the rain. That’s why she’s in this car. The fucking rain. First Bachelor Tower, now my car. Fuck.
I’m pissed at myself.
Neither she nor her sister belong in Bachelor Tower.
I can’t forget that.
Wanting her doesn’t mean she is my responsibility. How she gets anywhere and who she sees are none of my business. I storm into my office with an expression on my face that clearly has my staff scrambling out of my way. I grab a stack of files off my assistant’s desk and slam it down onto my own. I will not let the corners of my mind wander to what might be wrong with Penny’s father and why she looked so worried.
Not. My. Problem.