Where You Least Expect It (7 page)

P
enelope couldn’t believe this was happening…again. As she signed the form accepting responsibility for her grandmother and paying a fine that made an ugly dent in her savings, she wished not only that she didn’t live with Mavis, but also that she lived far, far away. Someplace, anyplace, that wasn’t here.

Sheriff Parker scratched the top of his handsome head and grinned sheepishly. “You’ve got to make it clear to your grandmother that she can’t be doing stuff like that out in public, Penelope.”

Like she had control over what her grandmother did or didn’t do. She only wished she could somehow intuit the old woman’s intentions so she could at least make sure she wasn’t anywhere around when her grandmother put on a show.

Cole motioned toward Desk Sergeant George Johnson, who went to the back of the office, apparently to bring Mavis out.

She eyed Aidan where he stood outside, Max’s leash in his hand, staring at Lucas Circle as if he’d never quite look at it the same way again.

“You know,” the sheriff was saying, “you may want to arrange another visit with a doctor for her.”

They both knew he wasn’t talking about a medical doctor. And they both also knew that it wouldn’t do a lick of good. After last year’s debacle with the medical marijuana, the court had ordered psychological counseling. And after three appointments, the young female psychologist had called Penelope at the shop to tell her she couldn’t see Mavis anymore. She not only didn’t think she was helping her, but also was afraid Mavis might ultimately affect the counselor’s own grip on sanity.

Penelope had understood.

By the time that had all transpired, summer had passed and her grandmother had gone back to normal.

Well, as normal as her grandmother got, anyway.

“I’ll see what I can do, Sheriff,” she said, smiling nervously.

She heard Mavis before she saw her. “What’s the matter with all of you? Never seen a human body before? The human form is beautiful. Nothing at all to be ashamed of.”

They reached the front room and Mavis looked at Penelope, then the sheriff. “You should know better than to question the request of the king.”

“The king?” Sheriff Cole repeated, clearing his throat.

“The king of all rock and roll. The man in the big pink Cadillac in the sky.”

Elvis? Was Mavis saying she was taking orders from Elvis? No, it couldn’t be.

Penelope quickly stepped forward, putting her arm over her grandmother’s robe-covered shoulders. “Thank you, Sheriff. I’ll make sure Dottie gets her robe back, washed, first thing tomorrow.”

“No problem, Penelope. Just you, um, remember what we talked about.”

“I will.” She would do one better than that. When they got back to the house, rather than locking her bedroom door, she was going to lock Mavis in her own room. Board up the windows. Anything to keep her from flashing the good folks of Old Orchard again.

They stepped outside, and Aidan turned to face them.

“Oh, it’s you. Good,” Mavis said, taking his arm and heading in the opposite direction of home. “Couldn’t stay away from me, now, could you?”

Penelope sighed in exasperation, grasped her grandmother’s arm and coaxed her in the right direction. “Home is this way.”

Mavis did another about-face, taking Aidan with her. He met Penelope’s gaze over her grandmother’s gray head.

“The truck’s over this way.”

“The truck? You drove the truck into town?”

She hadn’t even been aware the old Ford still ran. It had been shut up in the garage for the past five years, neither her grandmother nor her driving it. Penelope didn’t have the need. The shop
was within walking distance, no matter the weather. And Mavis…well, Mavis usually stuck close to the house.

She only wished that applied all the time.

“I think we should walk,” Penelope said.

“I agree,” Aidan said.

“What about the truck?”

Penelope looked at Aidan. He cleared his throat. “I’ll bring it by the house tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow morning’s too late. I have things I need to do tonight.”

“Tonight? What do you have to do tonight?” Penelope asked. “No. Scratch that. You’re not doing anything tonight.”

“Are you disobeying the king, as well?”

The king?
Aidan mouthed over Mavis’s head.

She rolled her eyes and mouthed,
Don’t ask.

“I’ll bring it by tonight,” Aidan promised.

Mavis’s step seemed to grow lighter. “Good.”

“But that doesn’t mean you’re going anywhere in it,” Penelope pointed out.

“We’ll see…”

Her grandmother was channeling Elvis, her house had no doors, and she was now an even bigger laughingstock in town.

A couple of hours later, Penelope sat on her bed staring at the myriad objects crammed into her bedroom. It was difficult to navigate through the maze of sideboard, armchairs, lamps and boxes. Last night she’d nearly maimed herself when she’d gone on a bathroom run. Forget that having to unlock and then re-lock her bedroom door after herself—a roll of toilet paper in hand in case Mavis decided she had something against the stuff—had completely woken her so that it had been nearly impossible to get back to sleep afterward.

Of course, she wasn’t about to admit that Aidan’s gentle eyes and charming grin had anything to do with her insomnia….

She glanced at her watch. Just after eleven p.m. She pushed off the bed, took the key from the leather tie around her neck and let herself out of her bedroom, locking up after herself. The house was quiet. Too quiet.

She padded down the hall, now devoid of the throw rugs she had rolled up and stowed in her room until her grandmother’s latest spell passed.

“Gram?” she called out, her plain cotton nightgown swirling around her legs. She tapped on Mavis’s door and received no answer. “Gram?” she said quietly, turning the knob and pushing the barrier slightly inward. The new moon shone brightly through the curtainless window, clearly illuminating the empty bed, stripped of linens.

Oh, God.

Last night, she hadn’t gone to her room until Mavis promised that she would stay put until morning. She was also glad that she’d asked Aidan not to bring the truck back until late. Late enough to circumvent any strange commands her grandmother thought she was hearing.

She hurried through the house, checking both open doorways. No sign of Mavis.

She rested her fingers against her neck and swallowed hard. She needed a phone.

She went in search of an extension that she could try to hook up to the frayed wires sticking out from the wall. Just then, a vehicle’s headlights drifted across the wall, and she heard the unmistakable roar of the old 1962 Ford in the driveway.

Aidan.

She hurried to the front doorway and stood there, her arms wrapped around her upper body, and tried to ignore the anticipatory hammering of her heart.

Aidan stared at the apparition on the front porch of the old house, half afraid he was seeing things. But time and several blinks of his eyes told him he wasn’t. Penelope stood wearing a white nightgown that was nearly transparent under the bright beams of the truck, her lush body clearly outlined under the thin cotton. Her black hair and eyes seemed to glisten; her legs were long and her ankles impossibly slender, her feet free of any toenail polish and downright sexy.

He switched off the engine, leaving the key in the ignition. He’d never thought of someone’s feet as being sexy before. And the idea was more than a little disconcerting.

He climbed from the truck, snatching the bag that had been next to him on the bench seat. It seemed to take forever to open the gate and cross over the sidewalk to the porch; all the while, Penelope stayed right where she was, watching him.

He stopped at the foot of the stairs, words eluding him.

“It seems Mavis didn’t need the truck, after all,” Penelope said, her words soft on the night air.

Aidan squinted at her. “She’s gone?”

Penelope sighed and nodded. “Who are we to question the king’s bidding?”

Aidan still wasn’t entirely sure who “the king” was or why he was telling Penelope’s grandmother to do odd stuff, and he wasn’t all that sure he wanted to find out, either.

He held out the plain white paper sack. “I brought the food we weren’t able to eat earlier.”

Her eyes grew so round, he was afraid he’d done something wrong.

“You’ve eaten already,” he said simply.

“No. I’m just surprised not only that I haven’t eaten, but that I completely forgot about…well, dinner.”

“Well, I guess I’m just in time, then.”

“For what?”

“To save you from starving to death.”

They stood there for a long time, nothing but the sound of crickets and the light of the sliver of moon and lightning bugs. Max lay on the far side of the porch, having barely lifted his head when Aidan pulled into the drive. His eyelids were already drooping back down.

“So…” Aidan said. The night was thick with expectation. And knowing that the two of them were out there alone, Penelope in her nearly sheer nightgown, he didn’t think it a good idea to tempt fate. He already wanted this woman far more than was wise. “I guess I should be going.”

He handed her the bag, the sound of the paper crumpling overly loud in the quiet night.

“Good night,” he said, hoping the long walk back to the bed-and-breakfast would be enough to get his runaway thoughts and traitorous body under control.

“Good night,” she whispered.

He turned and began walking toward the gate.

“Aidan?”

He stopped but didn’t dare turn around.

“Please stay.”

There wasn’t a single man alive who could resist such an invitation.

Aidan knew he should. He stood stock-still for several moments, his hands deep in the pockets of his pants, his back stiff, his breathing shallow. Then his body turned back toward the woman standing at the top of the steps, the bottom of her nightgown shifting in the wind.

She didn’t say anything. She merely led the way through the doorless doorway. But rather than leading him to the kitchen as he’d expected she would, she led him down a dark hall. He heard the jingle of keys, then she reached out and took his hand and led him into a room filled with starlight shining through wispy white sheers.

As Aidan’s eyesight adjusted, he realized they were in her bedroom.

She put the bag of food down on top of something he couldn’t make out, locked the door, then turned to face him. The thump-thump of his heart was so loud, he was surprised she couldn’t hear it. She slowly reached down, fingered the hem of her nightgown, then pulled the light cotton over her head, revealing that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

A metal band seemed to squeeze around Aidan’s chest as he watched her drop the nightgown so it pooled in a white puddle at their feet. Then she squared her shoulders, bravely baring all to him.

Oh, hell…

Oh, heaven…

A lump lodged in his throat as he drank her in. Her hair was a dark tangle around her pale face and smooth shoulders, running down to almost cover her small but perfectly proportioned breasts. The soft mounds stood as proudly as she did, her pale nipples engorged, moving as she took deep, ragged breaths. His hungry gaze slid down to her impossibly narrow waist, her abdomen flat, her navel bearing a navel ring. He reached out to touch the little hoop of silver, fascinated by her quick intake of breath as the backs of his fingers brushed against her lower belly. He slowly drew his hand back and allowed his gaze to continue caressing her past the surprising piece of body jewelry to the wedge of springy dark curls at the apex of her thighs, then to the lush flare of her hips and long, long legs to her feet. The sweet scent of rose petals and her own unique musk filled his senses, making him close his eyes and breath it in.

“Aidan?” she said, her voice as insubstantial as the thin curtain fluttering in the light summer breeze. “Please touch me.”

He let out a groan.
I can’t,
he wanted to tell her.
I shouldn’t,
he wanted to say. But instead he slowly reached his hand out, snaking it around her elegant neck and under the heavy fall of her hair. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers, then leaned his head the other way and gave them another pass. Then he was kissing her so deeply, he swore he could count her heartbeats, his tongue swirling, inviting hers out to play. Tentatively she touched the ridge of his teeth with the tip of her tongue and boldly thrust it deep into his mouth. Had he ever experienced anything so devastatingly sweet? So hotly erotic?

Before he knew it, he had swept her up into his arms and carried her to the narrow twin bed across the room, avoiding the obstacles of furniture and boxes. The box springs gave a low
squeak
as he settled her down, carefully placing her head on the pillow. She looked like an angel gazing up at him. And if he knew what was good for him, he would place a kiss on the tip of her nose and say good-night.

She reached out a shaking hand, touching the hard plane of his stomach through his T-shirt as he stood straight beside the bed. Air whooshed from his lungs, then rushed back in when she tugged the cotton from his jeans and hesitantly pressed her fingertips to his burning flesh.

For a moment he gave himself over to the need to just feel. To allow the sensation of Penelope branding him with her touch to ripple through him, tightening his muscles, heating his blood.

It had been so very long since he’d listened to the needs of his body. Heeded the call of his heart. And even though he knew how dangerous it was to do so now, he couldn’t help himself. He craved these few moments, no matter how selfish the desire.

Penelope slid her hand farther up until her palm rasped over his flat nipple. Slowly, he pulled the T-shirt up over his head, dropped it to the floor, then unsnapped his jeans and allowed them to follow, until he stood next to her as naked as she was.

Her eyes widened, and he watched a swallow work its way down her throat as her gaze traveled over him in much the same way his had over her mere moments ago. From his face, over his shoulders, his flat nipples, down over his abdomen. Her soft gasp as she saw the evidence of his arousal set off a quiet warning in the back of his head. But he couldn’t listen to it just then.