Page 43 of Santa Has a Six-Pack
He leans close to me, so close I can smell his cologne. I didn’t think I liked cologne on guys. But I like whatever this is.
“Pity is the last thing I feel for you, Penny, believe me,” he rumbles.
I have no idea what I’m supposed to say to that.
What does he feel for me?
“So you’re hungry then?” he asks.
“Starving, yes,” I say, my voice suddenly breathy and bizarre.
He winks and spreads the containers out on my desk. “Well, good. Because it’s time to feast, madam.”
Looks like I’m having Thanksgiving dinner after all.
Chapter 12
Matt
“I didn’t expect you to eat this kind of food,” Penny says between bites of turkey.
“What kind of food is that?” I ask.
“Candied sweet potatoes? Stuffing? Pumpkin pie?”
“Oh, you mean delicious food?”
She laughs. “I guess so, yeah.”
Penny and I are sitting across from each other at her desk, chowing down on the Thanksgiving leftovers I brought from Eugene’s family gathering. It was a risk, showing up here like this, but something told me she could use the company.
Who am I kidding? I wanted her company. As much fun as I had with Gene and his family, I couldn’t stop thinking about Penny and how much I wish I were sharing a meal with her, too.
Now I am.
“The way I see it,” I say, “Food is fuel. Everybody needs something a little different to feel their best. Yeah, I usually stick to protein and vegetables—that’s generally what my body likes best—but come on, it’s Thanksgiving, girl! You can’t do Thanksgiving without pumpkin pie!”
“Well, you could,” she jokes and spears another slice of turkey with her fork.
“But who would want to?” I say. I grab the bottle of pinot noir I brought and point it in her direction. “More wine?”
“Yes, please.”
I pour carefully into her cup, then refill mine as well.
When I hit the dollar store and stocked up on plastic wineglasses, a tablecloth, napkins, and electric candles, I was nervous she’d think I was being “extra.” But I’ve always believed if you’re going to do something, you should really do that thing.
If she minds, she’s certainly not letting on right now. Her energy is light and easy. She’s more relaxed than I’ve ever seen her. And I’m loving every minute of it.
She narrows her eyes at me as she sips her wine. “I guess you just strike me as someone who would go on an all-you-can-eat cruise and order a plain chicken breast with a side of iceberg lettuce.”
“That’s… incredibly specific. Who the hell goes on an all-you-can-eat cruise and orders a plain chicken breast with a side of iceberg lettuce?”
“My mother,” she says. “My mother does.”
I frown. “Are you saying I remind you of your mother? Look, I heard you loud and clear when you said I’m not your type, but I didn’t think that meant I reminded you of your mother.”
“Ha. No. No, you do not.”
