Penn stretched, feeling warm and safe under the comforter with West's hand draped over her belly. She glanced at the clock.

Seven p.m.

"Oh, God." She struggled to sit up.

"Shh." West pulled her back down.

"West, it's so late. We've been sleeping forever."

"We have nowhere to be, baby. I need to get in a workout sometime tonight, but other than that, I have no plans. And we needed the rest. It’s been a rough couple of days." He drew her back against him. "Besides, I want to hold you for a while."

"Do you have a hangover?"

"Nope. Some sweetheart left me aspirin and lots of water on the nightstand."

She smiled. "I was worried. Hang on, I just want to check my messages." Penn sat up and grabbed her purse. "Oh my God." She clapped a hand over her mouth and let out a snort of laughter.

"What’s so funny?"

She pulled a package of ten condoms from her handbag. "I think Holly stuck these in the wrong purse. She’s optimistic, I’ll give her that."

He grinned. "What has that girl been doing while we’ve been together?"

Penn giggled. "I don’t think we need any explanation. She’s obviously been busy."

"Did we have a birth control discussion last night?" West asked, propping himself up on his elbow.

"Yes. You said you were clean."

"That's true."

"I am, too. I got tested after I found out Matt was fooling around. I never stopped taking the birth control shot. Apparently I'm the eternal optimist," she said dryly.

He waggled his eyebrows at her, making her laugh again.

"Are you sure you don't have a hangover, Keller?"

"No hangover. In fact, I’m starving. Let's order some food. You hungry?"

"Very," she admitted.

"You mind just staying in with me tonight?"

"No." She kissed his cheek. "It's exactly what I want."

West placed a dinner order for cheeseburgers and French fries while Penn texted Holly.

"I didn’t get a chance to tell you, but Adam called about your car yesterday." West muted the television. "It's finished, Pixie."

Their eyes met and held.

"Oh." Her stomach sank at the news. Soon, it would all be over.

He took her hand, drawing lazy circles on her palm. "Any chance you’d be interested in going to the wedding with me tomorrow? It would mean staying until Sunday."

"Yes. Of course I'll go with you." Just one more day. She wasn't ready to let go.

Not yet.

---

West glanced over at Penn. She studied her iPad screen intently, catching up on emails.

He’d completely dominated her vacation. A vacation that was supposed to be a girls’ weekend with Holly. Even though they’d spent time together, he hadn't even gotten to take her to his favorite hangouts, or show her anything about the city.

Vegas might as well be Anytown, USA, for all she'd seen of it.

"I'm sorry for ruining your trip, Pixie."

"What?" She glanced up from the iPad. "You didn’t ruin my trip."

"This vacation was supposed to be for you and Holly. I’ve pretty much dominated the whole thing. How much of Vegas have you even gotten to explore?"

Penn started to laugh. "Come on, West. You've seen where I'm from. Any big city would be a vacation. Besides, I met you. That was the best thing I could have ever asked for."

She set the tablet down on the bed. "Holly and I went to the casino last night, hit a few shows and went out to dinner. Of course, she was trying to get my mind off of worrying about you. You should have seen the guys trying to get her attention. Watching that was entertainment in itself."

"What about you?" he asked. "Do I need to break anyone's face or legs?"

Penn giggled, and he thought it might be the sweetest sound he'd ever heard. She sounded so carefree and happy right now. "I deflected my share of advances, but you know Holly. She's loud and puts herself out there. I don't."

"I'm sorry for leaving you last night." The words came out too fast, but he couldn’t stop them. "And for getting wasted. I really didn't handle things well, but I rarely do when my father’s in town. Not that it’s an acceptable excuse. It’s just the truth."

Penn scooted over and sat in front of him. "I'm sorry, too."

"Why would you be sorry?" he asked, taken aback.

"I thought it would help if I went with you. For moral support, you know? I just made things worse, I think. Maybe you would still be talking to your dad if it wasn't for me."

"Don't ever think that. It's his fault." West squeezed his eyes shut. "I can't even deal with what he did, Penn. I wish I had been there to stop it earlier. I came out and you looked so trapped. Seeing him that close to you—I just lost it."

"Nothing happened." She ran her hands along his forearms. "You came out before he was able to push the envelope any more. Besides, I would have handled it."

He gave her a dubious look. "You don’t know my father."

"I would have handled it," she repeated. "I was handling it."

"What did he say to you?"

Penn averted her gaze. "West—"

"Tell me," he demanded.

"He asked how me met, then asked if I was a dancer like McKenna."

"Jesus Christ," he muttered.

"I said no, and told him what I was studying, and he said I was smart and attractive, and that he was impressed."

He tensed. "And?"

"He said McKenna was your type, and I was his, and we should get to know each other better, and let you and McKenna get acquainted."

"Yeah, I heard that part."

"It was odd."

"That's one way of putting it." West ran a hand through his hair. "Fucking horrifying is another."

"When he was staring at me, I kept thinking, I know those eyes so well. Because they are exactly like yours. But it was the wrong man looking at me in that way, with those eyes."

He reached out to caress her face. "How can I ever make it up to you?"

"What he did isn't your fault. You prepared me for what he was like. I was outraged for you." She shook her head. "How he can't see the things that I see—your pain, your need to have your brother acknowledged, I'll never understand."

"He'll never see that."

"I wonder how that kind of man can produce someone as wonderful as you. You must take after your mom."

He gave her a small smile; his heart warmed by her words. "I’m a lot like my mom in some ways. However, in many ways, I'm just like my old man."

"No you aren’t."

"Until a few months ago I was, Penn. I was drowning my problems with partying, going out all the time, and I slept with lots of women. You know what else bothered me when I saw you standing there with him?"

"What?"

"I saw myself. Like someone fast-forwarded ahead twenty years, and that was me leaning over some pretty young thing. After all, I have plenty of practice with that."

"No!" She looked stricken. "You won't be like that, West. You're not that guy."

"No, not with you, I'm not." He ran his thumb across her cheek.

"You're sweet to me," she said, her voice soft. "You're kind, and—"

Penn put her head down and took a deep breath. Standing and facing him, she said, "When we're together, I want things. My emotions make me feel like I'm spinning out of control, all of the time. Like I’m this girl who is constantly holding her breath, wondering what this fucking hot-as-hell guy is going to do next. I feel like I'm always out on a ledge with you."

She walked back and forth as she continued on. "The thing is, I want to be on that ledge. I want you to push me on to the next step—emotionally, sexually, whatever it is—I want the next step, West. I want you pushing me toward everything I've been too afraid to do. I crave it."

West watched as she paced in front of him, spilling all of her secrets. She’d wrapped her arms around herself, and averted her eyes. He clenched the comforter in both hands, waiting to hear what else she had to say.

"If you told me to jump off that ledge with you, I would, because I trust you. I wouldn't say that about some creep who wanted a quick lay, okay? So you're not that guy. Maybe you were on the wrong path, but you don't have to be that guy if you don't want to. You've proven it with me. Because of that, I'll always try to do anything you want."

She finally met his gaze, her big blue eyes full of uncertainty while she waited for his response.

"Anything?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"Yes."

He reached up and traced his fingers along her cheek, and then down to her jaw. She stilled under his touch as she watched him.

"Don't leave. Not yet." He cupped her face in his hands. "Stay here in Vegas for a little while with me. Another few days, a week, whatever. Just stay."

---

The air whooshed from her lungs as she stared down at West. She covered his hands—which still tenderly held her face—with her own.

All she wanted was to stay with him a little while longer. To put off the inevitable. Now that she knew he wanted it, too? Happy wasn’t an accurate enough word to describe how she felt right at this moment. Every fiber of her being was screaming "Yes!"

As she opened her mouth to reply, her cell phone rang, the Caller ID flashing:

Mom Cell.

All her happiness crashed and burned with one glance at her phone. Duty was calling.

West dropped his hands from her face. "It's okay." He nodded toward the phone. "Answer it."

Reluctantly, she picked it up. "Hello, Mom?"

---

West watched as Penn clutched the phone to her ear, her knees drawn up to her chest as she stared absently at the floor.

"I know. I'm sorry. I'll be there as soon as I can."

Another pause.

"Sunday. No, I have something to do tomorrow. I can't get out of it, no. You guys will either have to wait until I get back or interview some farm hands yourself. Dad knows what kind of help he needs. He knows what skills are needed to operate the machines."

Silence.

"If he needs to rest, he needs to rest. Yes, I know we have things to prepare, but—"

She dragged a hand through her hair. "I know. I'll probably be there on Monday. Yes, she's coming with me. We're splitting up the driving duties. We might stay over somewhere, though, so most likely Monday, okay? Bye. Yes, I will. Bye, Mom." She hit the end call button and stared at the floor.

"Pixie?" He placed a hand on her arm.

"Sorry, I had to take that." She threw the phone down on the bed and covered her face with her hands. A few seconds later her shoulders began to shake.

He pulled her into his arms. "Please, don't cry."

Her spine stiffened and she drew the backs of her hands over her eyes, wiping at her tears. "I'm never going to be able to leave that place. They can't get it together, West. I have two choices: to bail them out like I've been doing since Danny died, or to leave them. Either option, nobody wins."

He stroked her hair. "They really need to get some help."

"Why can't they see what they're doing to me? I can't do it all." She looked over at him, her face full of anguish. "I've always been there to help when they needed me, and I've never minded, because they're my family, and family takes care of each other. I put off college when the farm was struggling a few years ago in order to help. I’ve always tried to help. But I'm just scared there isn't an end in sight, you know? It's been nine months, and I'm still waiting for them to ask me how I feel about Danny. How I'm dealing with his death."

West leaned his chin on the top of her head. Words wouldn't fix this.

He couldn’t fix this.

"I can't stay." She buried her face in the front of his shirt. "I’m so sorry, but I can't stay here."

"I know." Helplessness stole over him. He wished he could make it all better for her. He wished he could protect her from all of the ugly, leftover feelings and situations she had to deal with. But he couldn’t.

Only she could figure out how to best handle the situation with her parents. All he could do was listen.

Unfortunately, he had a feeling it would be a long, hard-fought battle. He wasn't sure how she'd come out of it unscathed.

She raised her gaze to his, and the pain on her face broke his heart. "West?"

"What, sweetheart?" He swept her hair, damp with tears, away from her wet cheeks.

"I don't want to think about this anymore." She dragged him down on top of her. "Please. I don’t want to think."

He kissed her, covering her body with his, and did his best to make her forget it all—even if it was just for tonight.