Page 132 of Love is a Game

She sits back, glancing away. “Actually, what you said about security issues. And the whole time crunch thing. I was thinking…I should work on the dress here. Pull in a skeleton team from my studio. They bring everything here, and we fine-tune the whole process.” She looks at me carefully.

“Besides, my next meeting with Mia won’t be in New York.” Her words come in a rush. “I’ll have to go to LA to finalize the shoulder jewelry design with Raquel, then the final fittings with Mia.”

I drum my fingers on the benchtop. “So…not back to New York.”

She blinks. “No.”

I shrug, feeling like an afterthought. “You never wanted to go to Blue Mountain Lake—now it’s like you don’t want to leave. What’s changed?”

Pen rubs her neck. “I don’t know, I guess it’s this process of working through the dress, finding inspiration here, being so close to nature again, reconnecting with this house…people. I feel like somehow there are still loose threads to tie up here. For once, I don’t feel ready to leave.”

I fold my arms. She chews her lip.

“Tuck—just let me get the dress done. Get some other stuff settled. Clear our schedules…”

“Wait for the right moon phase and world peace?” I scoff.

“I know, I’m sorry. I really…I miss you.” She sighs as her eyes wander the screen, roving over my torso. “Especially like that—were you really working out or is this a deliberate tease?” She challenges with a grin. “Because two can play that game, you know.”

She slowly slides the lacy strap off her left shoulder.

Heat flares immediately, my chest contracting with thoughts of a bigger reveal.

And what if it’s simply a distraction? A delay tactic? A way out of a difficult conversation?

Well, it works. She wriggles out of her top and the first flash of her tits is enough to get me hard. But then my mind slips…pulling up other details to merge with her hiked breath, her hums of arousal, her dreamy dark eyes—details of Pen in the half-made wedding dress, dark hair spilling against the pale fabric, spreading her legs for me as she lies against the table.

Now, she positions the camera and scoots back on the lounge to display more. Tugging down her panties. Dipping her fingers between her legs as I grip my cock.

She gets me off effortlessly. Just watching her let go, her throaty moans as she comes, tip me over the brink. It’s hot. Intense.

But it’s not just the sex that lingers on my mind when we sign off.

I made Pen blush. And I carry that victory with me all day.

Because with Pen, it’s the subtleties that matter most. The moments she doesn’t give away easily. The cracks in her bravado. The glimpses of the woman underneath all that fire and fight.

She’s brilliantly talented. Fierce and determined. Beautiful. Unique. And threaded through with uncertainties that sabotage everything I want to create with her.

But I’d never want to change her.

I wouldn’t wish away the struggles that shaped her, even though I hate that she had to endure them. Those hardships didn’t break her. They made her the complex, confounding, utterly frustrating woman she is. Gave her all those uneven textures and irregularities.

Like the ‘flaws’ in raw silk, Pen’s contrasts only make her more special. Imperfections don’t diminish her, they define her. She’s a perfect tapestry of imperfect pieces. And I wouldn’t have her any other way.

And I know exactly how Darcy must have felt—watching the woman he wanted slip through his fingers, all sharp wit and cool detachment, forcing him to chase her, to prove himself.

He got his second chance.

But I’m starting to wonder—will I?

Chapter 39

Penelope

Clusters of delicate Mayflowers, their petals traced in platinum, shimmer beneath the workbench light. Tiny diamonds scattered like morning dew, seed pearls nestled at their centers, add softness to the intricate design.

It’s perfect—the final touch, the heartbeat of Mia’s dress, drawing the eye with just the right amount of bling.

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