Page 13 of Someone You Deserve

Penn drops the cards on the table, turns, and closes the distance between us so fast I nearly fall over as he grips my chin, lifting my face so our eyes can connect. I can hear my heart in my ears and suddenly breathing feels like a monumental task. “You have no idea how strong you are, Astrid. That little girl couldn’t ask for a better example of a mom. You’ve turned a shitty hand of cards into something incredible—without any reverse cards in the pile.” He gives me a reassuring grin as his eyes bounce back and forth between mine, and I have to remind myself to breathe. “Don’t doubt your strength for a second. You hear me?” All I can manage is a nod. “Good. Now, I’m beat, and I have a bakery to tear apart tomorrow.” The corner of his mouth lifts as he releases my chin and steps away, robbing me of his warmth and the confidence he instills in me with his words.

I’ve never felt that from a man. My father left when I was so little, I don’t even remember him. And with Brandon, the only man I’ve ever been with, I felt so alone, blending into the background, a trophy for him to have on his arm, not a partner he was proud of.

Penn makes me feel like I’m front and center stage.

It’s unnerving and relentless, and it makes me want things I know I can’t have.

“You want to start tomorrow?” I ask, pulling my thoughts back to our conversation.

“If that’s okay, yeah. The sooner the better. I can work there during the day until I do the floors and that leaves me the afternoon to work on my other projects.”

“How are you gonna manage this all? The restaurant, the hardware store, the bakery, and your top-secret project.” He grins. “Seriously,you’re never this cryptic. Why won’t you tell me what you’re working on?”

His smile fades and then he moves back to the table, gathering his things and shoving them into the bag. “It’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

“I said it’s nothing, Astrid. Okay?” His words are clipped and final.

His tone honestly takes me aback for a moment, but I nod and say softly, “Okay. I’m—I’m sorry.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “No, I’m sorry. It’s just…I just don’t want to talk about it yet, okay? I’ll tell you when it’s the right time. I promise.”

I nod again. “Okay.”

“Uncle Penn, will you tuck me in?” Lilly calls from her bed, offering a reprieve from the tension building between us in the dining room.

Penn draws in a deep breath and calls back, “Yeah, Lilly Bear. Be right there.” His eyes meet mine once more. “Duty calls.”

“You don’t have to do that, you know.”

“I know, but it’s what Brandon would have done. And since he can’t, it’s the least I can do.”

As I watch him walk down the hall, my heart twists in my chest again. If only Penn knew how little Brandon really helped around here. He merely kissed the kids good night from his seat on the couch most nights while I made sure they had their favorite blankets, their nightlights were plugged in, and their sound machines were turned on. I’m the one that assured them there were no monsters under their beds or in their closets. And I’m the one that got all of the “I love you’s” right before they drifted off to sleep.

Penn might think he’s doing what Brandon would have done.

But the truth is, he’s always done more.

And that’s something I don’t ever want him to know.

That’s why I never crossed that line, and why I pushed him away when I could have taken what we both wanted—because the man Penn has been in our lives is more than we’ve ever had, and the last thing I want is for the three of us to lose him forever too.

***

Three Years Ago

“I can’t believe it’s been a year,” Penn slurs, reaching for the bottle of tequila again, pouring two shots and handing me one.

“You’ve already said that.”

“But it’s true. One fucking year, Astrid. One year that my best friend hasn’t been on this earth.” His eyes are bloodshot as he stares at me. “I still can’t fucking believe it.”

I think this is our fifth shot, but honestly, I haven’t been keeping track.

Tears well in my eyes again as I toss the shot of alcohol back and wince as it goes down. “One year of my kids not having their dad.”

I think that’s the part that cuts the deepest—all the things they’ll miss out on because he’s not here.

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