Page 103 of On a Fault Line

“Oh, shush it. We were bonding.”

I give her a smile. She’s so freaking likable—just like her daughter.

“Beer is in back. Come join the rest of the guests outside,” Germain persuades.

I follow the patriarch of the family through the house that he remodeled with his wife. It always shocks me at how a little attention to detail can transform a space. Donna has an eye for interior design, and it shows in everything she does.

The back deck overlooks the pool and patio, and it’s set up with all things red, white, and blue—from garland to potted plants to flag decor. We make our way down the stairs, over the patio area that is being set up for a barbecue, and toward the garden that provides ample shade with some of the fuller willow trees.

Like with most big social settings, I do what I do best—stand back and observe.

I’ve seen Penny in her element many times in the past, but there’s something different about today’s event, even when compared to when I was here for her birthday. Donna is right. There’s a lightness to her steps. She is bubbly and blossoming before my eyes, and I didn’t even take note until now.

Greeting her brothers, Penny gives them both big hugs. However, it is when their women emerge from the walkout basement doorway that the chattiness electrifies.

Angie and especially Claire have a way of making those they care about feel comfortable in their own skin. They are accepting of others, and while I didn’t appreciate their spontaneity while I was their acting bodyguard, they sure bring the fun.

“Wow, you look amazingly happy,” Angie says softly, giving Penny a hug.

I inwardly smile, hoping that I somehow had some influence on her good mood today, although she did leave my vehicle grumpy and unsatisfied.

Overall, we’ve been vibing really well together, and I sometimes ask myself why I didn’t create this arrangement sooner.

Oh, yeah…I almost forgot. It’s the fear of getting my throat sliced by the two brooding brothers who can’t help but keep a keen eye on their women—and their baby sister.

The brothers are busy chatting with their dad, so I’m able to eavesdrop without interruption from the drink table that I assume Donna had a hand in setting up.

I watch as the girls chat animatedly. I’m anxious that I can no longer hear what is being said. If it’s anything of importance, I’ll have to figure out a way to get that information later.

At least Penny seems to have a way of opening up to me after she’s exhausted from multiple orgasms and her body is in a boneless state of submission. Maybe it’s because I work the stubborn aggression out of her system, leaving me someone who is more pliable and agreeable.

She is neither of those things right now.

Just watching her move about the space, wearing clothes that were designed for her body, is making me tense and on edge. I will have a lot of my own aggression to work out of my system when we get back to Sky View. Every little glance and rise of her eyebrows is making me want to claim her—again and again and again.

Even then, I doubt I’ll have my fill.

“Hey Collins,” Graham greets, with a pat on my back.

“Good seeing you.”

Nic joins us, offering his fist for a bump. “Up for some cornhole?”

I give a nod, watching as Angie, Claire, and Penny make their way back inside the house via the basement door. “Sounds good.” I’m sure they will be fine without me hovering.

We make our way to the shed, where Germain is pulling out the wooden boards from the storage shelf. We each grab some supplies and set up the game in the shade.

“Who’s up for a beer?” the patriarch asks, grabbing several bottles from the drinks table. He shakes off the excess water collecting along the sides from being stored in an ice bath and starts popping off caps. He hands them over to his sons. Turning to me, he offers one in my direction. “Want one?”

“I’ll grab something later. Thank you.”

I rarely drink on the job. Penny needs my clear mind to keep her out of trouble as it is. Hell, the woman is a danger magnet. If there was a fire, I question whether she would walk straight into it or not.

Even with my list of contacts and safeguards in place, my blood pressure rises every time she is not within arm’s reach.

Am I overprotective? No, I’m being just the right amount, I am sure.

Would I lay down my life to protect her from harm? Absolutely—and without hesitation.

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