Page 84 of Someone You Deserve

Oh, this is so real.

“I’ll try,” I whisper before he lunges for my mouth, tangling his tongue with mine.

“Don’t try, Astrid. Make it happen. I know you can make shit happen when you set your mind to it. I mean, hell…we are making out in the kitchen ofyourbakery, aren’t we?”

“Shut up.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I can’t. In fact, I have many more words to say to you that I think you’ll love.”

“Like what?” I ask breathlessly.

“You’ll just have to wait to find out.” When Penn lets go of me, I turn to grab the tray of Danishes, and that’s when I lock eyes with Richard Cockwell through the small window of the kitchen door.

Oh God. Hemust have seen us.

My stomach drops and the tray in my hands nearly does too. I scramble to steady it, narrowly avoiding a dessert disaster. I look back at the window and Richard is gone.

“I’ll see you later,” I tell Penn, and before he can respond, I hurriedly carry the tray out to the front, my heart pounding violently.

Richard steps up to the counter and I swallow hard. Before he can call me out on what he saw, I speak first. “Hi, Richard! It’s so good to see you!” My voice is about three octaves too high and my smile must look deranged, but I’m going to fake it till I make it.

“Congratulations, Astrid. You’ve done a great job with the place.” He returns my smile, giving me hope that maybe he didn’t see anything incriminating after all. But I’m still on my guard.

“Thank you. And thank you for coming.”

“You know I had to come in to sample the new cupcakes...and get a look around.” He winks at me, and a shiver runs down my spine. He rattles off what flavors he wants as I start filling his box. “How have things been?”

“Crazy to say the least, and I don’t expect things to slow down until we get through the holiday season.” I move to the register and he follows me.

“Well, I wish you all the success. You deserve it.” Just then, Penn returns from the back of the bakery, glancing in our direction. Richard and I are both watching him as he heads back outside to join Dallas and Willow. I clear my throat, but Richard speaks. “You know, I’m still disappointed we never got that date.”

“I know…”

He hands me his card and looks me dead in the eye. “But at least now I know the real reason why.”

A lump lodges itself in my throat. “I’m sorry…I didn’t plan this,” I croak out, my voice low so other peopledon’t hear me.

“Your business is your own, Astrid. I guess I should just be glad I found out sooner rather than later. I mean, part of me always wondered about you and...” He shrugs. “Whatever makes you happy, I guess. Wasn’t Penn your late husband’s best friend, though?” he asks pointedly, rubbing salt in the wound.

I shakily hand his card back to him and slide the box across the counter. “Yes, but—”

“Sounds messy,” he interjects, cutting me off. “But good luck.” With a nod, he grabs his box and heads for the door, leaving me standing there in shock, wondering how I was truly naïve enough to believe that Penn and I could stay a secret, and what the fallout’s going to be.

Chapter thirteen

Penn

Work is the best distraction. When there’s people to help at the hardware store and orders to fill at the restaurant, my mind has no choice but to focus on the task at hand, which means there’s less time for me to wallow in my guilt over craving my best friend’s widow.

God, just thinking those words makes my stomach roll.

It’s part of why I’m so tired, part of why I am working myself to the bone. I know I should quit the hardware store and restaurant. Hell, I’m only working at each place three days a week now because I need time to work on my rental house and finish the paperwork to establish my business, but I need to stay busy so then at night, when I bury myself in Astrid, I don’t feel the shame.

I can’t wonder about what Brandon would think anymore. Every time I do, it kills me. And then I think about my dad—the disappointment in his eyes I’d be sure to see.

“You honor your brothers, Penn, even the ones not related to you by blood. Trust is something you never want to lose between men.”

I shake off the memory of his voice and slather the wood in paint again, finishing up the Christmas backdrop that my little sister askedfor so I can bring it to her tomorrow at Thanksgiving. She has sessions already booked for this weekend, and I’m already pushing the deadline she set for me pretty tightly. But again, I’ve been so busy and trying to keep Astrid close so she doesn’t overthink our new dynamic and freak out that my responsibilities have gotten away from me.

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