Page 17 of If Our Hearts Collide

Claire’s finger points at me, and I instinctively hold my own hands up in defense. “I was on leave.” And I was. It’s a legit defense. But yeah, I heard all the drama that happened—and am apparently still reliving it.

With Nic as the focus for her rant, she continues, “I’ve never been more embarrassed than when trying to go to the obstetrician’s the last time.”

Sighing, he squeezes his eyes shut, as if to fight the effects of a migraine. “I have it handled. Just don’t blame Collins. He needed a vacation.”

Angie makes her way over to her best friend, pulling her into a hug when she gets off the last step. She has a way of defusing a situation. I’m thankful, because these women can gang up and combine forces. And now with Penny back in the area, I can only imagine what dynamic the three of them together will be.

“If my son messes this up,” Donna states from across the room, “do not hold grudges against me, Claire. I’ve told both boys multiple times not to jack up the best thing that’s happened to them.”

We all laugh. Donna is not one to mince words either—which actually comes across as endearing. You know she likes you when her filter seems a bit broken.

I relax into my stance and take a long sip of my beer. I glance at the label—seeing that it is local—and savor the bitter flavor.

It’s almost impossible not to think about love when you are around the Hoffman brothers and their women. It’s also the perfect reminder that I’m a loner. In a way, I always have been.

From an early age, I’ve been conditioned through a series of bad events to trust my instincts—not people.

Men like me don’t settle. We just survive.

And with that closed-off attitude comes a lot of no-strings arrangements. I can’t call them relationships, because that would be an insult to the ones I am witnessing right here in my presence now. Plus, I’m not consistent enough with my needs to label it any other way.

Seeing movement out of the corner of my eye, I turn toward it to find Penny waiting at the top step, looking down at the crowd gathered below. We are here to celebrate her and yet her eyes tell me she is uncertain if she even wants to come down.

The darker hair she used to have is a thing of the past, being replaced by a honey-blonde shade that surprisingly suits her perfectly. Half is pulled back in what I assume to be a clip. Feathery strands highlight the roundness of her cheeks, which are painted with the palest pink shade. Her smile is sweet, causing her to look even more…

Innocent.

No, that’s not the right word. Because if she was in fact innocent, then my mind would be able to separate right from wrong—unlike what is happening now.

Maybe “untouchable” is a better word.

Off-limits.

This is my first time seeing Penny since she has been discharged, and her brothers are right in the physical transformation she has done with herself.

Her delicate hand reaches for the rail, as she takes the first step down. Dressed in a pale pink dress made entirely of lace, she looks stunningly feminine—elegant but still casual.

If she looks this stunning in clothes, I have zero doubt that she’d be a vision out of them.

Every exposed inch of skin is the color of fresh cream. The harsh sun hasn’t damaged her or caused her to be flawed in any noticeable way. Every freckle seems to be perfectly placed, as if they each belong in the exact location in which they reside.

She is a masterpiece.

My eyes focus on Penny’s bare feet, with nails painted the shade of bubblegum. Each step she descends causes her ankle bracelet made of linked hearts to shift. Her fingers play with the hem of her dress, curling and uncurling around the delicate fabric. Her hand moves up to fix a piece of hair behind her ear, drawing attention to her exquisite neck and jawline.

In this moment, it’s like meeting Penny for the first time.

The swell of her breasts rises and falls as I watch her breathing increase—probably from a bit of nerves or excitement. I am completely entranced by the way her toes bend and flex as she makes her way downstairs. It’s like the world has stopped spinning on its axis, and the only thing that matters in this fragment of time is Penny.

Penny.

She’s the girl I’m supposed to guard and protect. She’s the baby sister of the two men I can never repay for the life they have given me.

Yet, here I stand, just a few yards away from the girl, and I can’t seem to stop wondering—what if?

What if we met under different circumstances? What if I never decided to start working for Graham Hoffman? What if we weren’t on two vastly different playing fields and at two vastly different times in our lives?

Her eyes catch mine, and a rush of guilt coats my insides as I feel like I have violated part of an unwritten code that I live by—with my wayward gaze alone. I plaster on my professional filter and offer up a half smile, careful not to give away any of my thoughts or allow any more blood to rush to my freaking cock.

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