Page 110 of On a Fault Line

She could use the extra coverage.

I’m not so emotionally inept not to realize that I’m jealous right now. I know I am. But that’s because I know how special Penny is. She’s one of a kind. It would be weird if guys didn’t notice her beauty that goes beyond her hair and eyes and lush body. At the core, Penny is sensitive and sweet. She’s smart and sassy.

“Ivan just got back from a trip to Colombia and brought us some iced coffee to try,” Donna announces, holding up a pitcher. “Make sure you all try some.”

Who brings iced coffee to a holiday barbecue? That spud. That’s who.

“Go easy on the caffeine, Claire,” Nic warns, as she pours herself a half cup.

“Only if you lay off the mom blogs that are full of wannabe doctors and keyboard warriors.” She turns to him with a big smile—albeit fake. “Plus, it makes the baby really dance.”

Anyone other than Nic can tell that she’s exaggerating and trying to make him get a little crazy. He brings it upon himself with his overprotectiveness. But that doesn’t stop him from topping off her huge refillable water bottle that is already three-fourths full from the dispenser and then bending the straw to her lips.

“Sip.”

I swear he saysgood girlunder his breath after she complies.

Ironically, both Graham and Nic have found the most stubborn and independent women. Neither of these ladies are shy about going head-to-head with their possessive and overprotective men. It’s a sight to see.

And Penny falls in the same lane as their women do.

What have I gotten myself into?

“It’s good seeing you, Penny,” Ivan says, shifting his body to get a better view of her from his end of the lounger. He gestures with his chin toward the pool. “When are we getting in?”

And she fucking smiles.

“Soon.”

Taking out my phone, I shoot her another pointed text.

Collins: Quit flirting

Why sugarcoat my disapproval? Surely by now Penny knows how I feel about other men moving in where they don’t belong.

Glancing at her phone, she makes a subtle face then tries to shove it into her jean shorts pocket, but instead drops it on the ground.

And in swoops the hawk, saving the day.

“Here you go, Penny,” he says, nearly bumping heads with her when she leans forward to also try to get it.

“Thanks, Ivan.” As she takes the phone out of his hand, his fingers brush hers. She doesn’t react though, and that makes me happy—but he sure does.

Ivan looks like one of those Thanksgiving parade cartoon balloons that has the plastered-on smile.

He’s a demented clown head.

“Your dad was telling me the other day that you moved into the city.”

Does he have a mute button? I can see his game a mile away.

I should have fucking claimed her pussy today on the couch and in the car. Maybe the smell of another man’s cum all over her would deter him from thinking he even had a chance.

He doesn’t.

Penny is mine.

“Yeah, I think it was time to be on my own.”

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