Текст книги "Irresistibly Yours"

Автор книги: Layne Layren

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

“But nothing, Tiny,” he said with a quiet sigh. He stepped closer, wrapping his hands around her upper arms and pulling her up slightly so he could press his lips to her forehead. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Okay,” she said slowly. She sounded confused.

You and me both, darling.

He gave her a wink, figuring he could at least try to act like himself, and then he walked away, wondering if he should stop for a drink on the way home. Wondered if he could muster any kind of interest in a woman. Maybe one who actually wanted—

“Cole!”

He turned, saw Penelope racing toward him. It was a full-out run too. Full speed, so that he had to brace himself for impact, supporting her small body as she collided with his.

She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

Cole froze. It was the first time Penelope had initiated a kiss, and the shock of it had him rooted to the spot, until slowly he wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her against him.

Her fingers tangled in his hair as she kissed him with artless enthusiasm. She pulled back, giving him one last nipping kiss before digging her fingers into his hair and pulling his face down to look at hers.

“The other day you told me that you wanted me to beg for you. Any day of the week.”

He said nothing. He waited.

“This is me. Begging.”

Cole couldn’t help the brief laugh at the simple calmness of her voice. “Yeah, you sound really desperate there, Tiny.”

She smiled and rested her hands against his chest. “Give me a break; I’m just now finding out that I’m not in love with the guy I thought.”

Cole’s heart stopped for a moment, but he forced his voice to stay calm. “Oh yeah?”

She fiddled with the button of his shirt, not quite meeting his eye. “I’m not saying I wasn’t in love with him once. But tonight, I was braced for the usual agony when I looked at Evan and remembered all the ways he broke my heart….”

“And?”

“I wasn’t thinking about any of that. It seems my mind kept drifting to other places.” Penelope looked up. “Other people. One in particular.”

His hands slid up her back. “Is that so?”

She shrugged. “What can I say? You look really good naked.”

“You know, this speech would have been more effective on a Tuesday. Seeing as it’s Friday, you had a pretty good chance of getting laid anyway.”

“Didn’t seem that way when you were walking away,” she said quietly.

“My mistake,” he whispered, leaning down to brush his lips against hers.

“So you wanna come up?”

“Fuck yes I want to come up.”

Chapter 24

It was strange.

She and Cole had done this several times now. Hot sex. Raunchy sex. Playful sex.

Great sex.

But tonight, as they stood facing each other with only the streetlight from her window illuminating her bedroom, it felt different.

Special.

Important.

She didn’t want it to be important. She wanted it to be spontaneous, and fun, and safe, and—

Penelope’s thoughts scattered as Cole slowly, methodically unbuttoned his dress shirt, and tossed it aside.

His eyes never left hers as he kicked off his shoes and then stripped off the rest of his clothes.

Her mouth dropped open at his boldness, and he smiled. “You did say you liked me naked.”

She tried to speak, but her mouth was dry.

He stepped forward and rested his hands on her waist before dipping his head and brushing his lips along the side of her throat.

Penelope sighed his name, and his hands slipped under her shirt, his fingers hot on her back as his mouth explored her neck.

He tugged her shirt over her head, then his lips captured hers in an erotic kiss that reminded her of hot, sultry summer nights, even though it was only June.

Cole’s hands flicked her bra open, his hands sliding forward to cover her with warm palms as she arched her back. Together they moved toward the bed, tumbling onto it in a graceless heap without their mouths ever breaking contact.

Cole’s fingers went to the button of her pants, and she helped him, wiggling them down her legs until she could kick them aside.

She crawled over him then, shamelessly rubbing her naked body against his, relishing the contrast of their bodies, hard against soft, rough against smooth, big against small.

Cole’s hands were on her butt, her thighs, then he slipped one finger under the fabric of her underwear, sliding down until he found her wetness.

He slipped a finger inside, then a second.

Penelope moaned as he slowly thrust his two fingers in and out of her, his eyes latching onto hers. His eyes were dark with want. Want for her. For this.

But for how long?

Driven by a sudden, desperate fear that their days as lovers were numbered, Penelope rode his hand harder until she came with a shuddering, harsh climax that was both too much and not nearly enough.

Before the last shudder had ripped through her, Penelope moved off him, digging around in her nightstand until she found a condom.

She’d never felt this frantic. Greedy. She’d never wanted like this.

Cole started to reach for the condom, but she batted his hand aside, instead rolling it on herself.

Then she peeled off her underwear and resumed her position on top of him, feeling heady with a strange feminine power at the flare of lust in his eyes.

“Penelope—”

She found his hands, kissing his knuckles before she pinned his hands above his head.

He was twice her size. He could easily fling her off and take control.

He didn’t.

“I’m all yours,” he said gruffly.

That was all it took.

Three simple words, and Penelope’s inhibitions flew out the window.

For years, she’d been thinking she wasn’t good at this. That she wasn’t sexy. That she wasn’t worth wanting.

Years of ridiculousness fixed by three words from one magnificent man.

Acting on instinct, Penelope shifted upward slightly until her nipples brushed softly over his mouth.

Cole lifted his head, his tongue fluttering against the tip of one breast before blowing cold air against it teasingly. In response, she lowered herself farther until he had no choice but to take her nipple into his mouth and suck.

“Cole,” she gasped.

His lips moved to the other breast, all the time keeping his hands pinned to the pillow. He let it be her show. Her moment.

She was tempted to ride the sweet torture forever, but the man’s mouth was too skilled.

She wanted him now. Inside.

Penelope sat up, giving him a naughty look through her lashes as her hand wrapped around him and guided him to her opening. She held his gaze as she slowly sank onto him in one slow, sensuous movement.

Cole’s eyes slitted and his breath grew more ragged as he filled her, but still he didn’t move.

Not until she lifted once more before sinking down onto him, harder this time, deeper, did his hands slide down to her hips with a quiet groan that could have been a prayer or a curse.

Penelope had never been on top before. Thirty-one years old, and she was just now learning what it was like to ride a man. To have all the power.

And just when she thought it couldn’t get any better, Cole licked his fingers and then reached to play with her.

“Let go, Pen.”

She did. She arched back with a victorious cry as she gave herself completely to him.

“Good girl,” he whispered before wrapping both arms around her and rolling her on her back beneath him.

He thrust into her again and again, his eyes holding hers as though trying to tell her something.

She tried to understand—tried to grasp what he was telling her with his body, but she was too far gone with want.

Cole slid an arm behind her neck, cradling her face into the hot, slick skin of his shoulder, whispering her name so reverently she thought she imagined it.

And then he went over the edge, her name a harsh groan on his lips.

Cole stayed lying over her for longer than usual, his breath hot against her temple, as her lips soothed the scratch marks on his shoulder that she didn’t remember making.

He pulled away with another kiss to her cheek as he eased off the bed and went into the bathroom.

He returned a few moments later just as she’d managed to muster enough energy to crawl under the sheets.

Cole hesitated near the side of the bed, his features flickering with vulnerability, and Penelope’s heart seemed to lodge in her throat.

She held the sheets up in wordless invitation, and watched as his vulnerability flickered into relief.

Cole pulled her against him, and she went easily, as though she belonged there.

Still, neither spoke. Not about what had just transpired, nor about what it meant.

And happy as she was, just before she drifted off to sleep, Penelope couldn’t help but wonder how long this could continue.

She was now 100 percent positive that she couldn’t honor her promise to Cole that she wouldn’t fall in love.

If she told him, she’d lose him.

But if she didn’t tell him…

She’d lose herself.

Chapter 25

Sunday marked a first for Cole: he’d rescheduled his and his brother’s standing Sunday date.

It hadn’t been an easy decision. But Jake had scored four Yankees tickets directly behind home plate and invited Cole and Penelope. And even though it was Sunday—his and Bobby’s day—Cole had found himself tempted. Tempted to spend a sunny afternoon with friends and a woman who was, well…he didn’t know.

Something had shifted between Cole and Penelope.

As far as what was different, Cole didn’t have a fucking clue. He couldn’t have named it. He only knew it felt a good deal more important than weekend bed partners and weekday colleagues.

And for the life of him, he didn’t know whether to be freaked out or happy.

Bobby had agreed to the change of plans with so much enthusiasm, Cole half wondered if Bobby hadn’t been waiting for this moment—waiting for Cole to have a reason to have a relationship with someone other than his big brother.

Of course, it didn’t hurt that the Mets were away, so a ball game was out of the question anyway, since Bobby good-naturedly refused to go to Yankee Stadium.

But whatever Bobby’s motivations, his brother had approved. Heartily.

Still, Bobby’s approval didn’t quite ease the sting of guilt Cole felt when he and Penelope walked into Yankee Stadium with Jake and Grace Malone.

As though sensing this, Penelope’s fingers found his and squeezed.

“Okay,” Grace said, clapping her hands together. “They have wine here, right? I know beer’s customary, but I could really go for a nice chardonnay….”

Penelope stared at her in horror. “You can’t be serious. This is a ballpark.”

“An evolved one,” Grace said with a little wink.

“But—but—” Penelope was sputtering.

Grace gave her a little pat on the shoulder. “I can see you’re all about the classics, so how about we split up and meet back after everyone finds their food and beverage of choice?”

“If she brings sushi, I’ll have to unfriend her,” Penelope muttered to Cole after Grace had dragged Jake toward the wine cart.

“Fair enough,” Cole agreed as they headed to the main concession stand. “So what’s our plan? Hot dog?”

Penelope studied the menu with as much interest as a sommelier perusing a wine list.

“I’m thinking…pretzel,” she finally pronounced. “I haven’t had a good one in forever. Or wait, do I want nachos?”

“I notice popcorn’s not in the running,” he said.

She smiled. “I know it’s been a week since I was doused in the stuff, but I swear sometimes I still get a whiff of butter. Speaking of which, how’s Bobby? Are you sure it’s okay that you’re not hanging out with him today?”

There it was again. That stab of guilt.

“We’re going to the Mets game on Wednesday,” Cole told Penelope as they inched their way closer to the cashier.

“Nice,” Penelope said. “What’s he going to do today while you’re bumming around with me? Probably another killer party?”

Cole smiled. “Probably. The guy is Mr. Popular. And he’s been talking nonstop lately about some woman named Carly, so I’m thinking he’s got a crush.”

Penelope shook her head. “The Sharpe brothers have moves. Poor Carly’s heart doesn’t stand a chance.”

He slid his hand behind her neck, tilting her head up so he could see her face beneath the brim of her cap. “What about your heart? Where does it stand on the whole Sharpe brothers’ charm thing?”

Penelope’s lips parted in surprise, probably at the quiet urgency in his voice. He told himself to let her go—that the food line at Yankee Stadium wasn’t the time or the place to have this conversation.

He didn’t even know what this conversation was. Or what he wanted to hear her say—

Scratch that.

He knew exactly what words he wanted to hear. He wanted to know that she was his. That this was more than a weekends-only fling. That she was falling for him as helplessly as he was falling for her.

So tell her. Tell her how you feel.

And then the people in front of them finished ordering, and it was Penelope and Cole’s turn to order.

Moment ruined by junk food.

Cole ran a hand over his face, feeling both disappointed and relieved.

Penelope ordered nachos and a pretzel, and then turned to Cole expectantly, waiting for him to place his own order. He looked at her in surprise. “You’re eating all of that?”

She snorted. “What, you thought I’d share? Get your own food, Sharpe.”

He shook his head and ordered a hot dog and a Coke.

The bored kid behind the counter loaded their food onto a tray, and Cole carried it to the condiment stand.

“Yuck, no ketchup,” she said when he went to add it to his hot dog.

“It’s my hot dog,” he said.

“Which I’ll be having a bite of. And I don’t like ketchup on my dogs.”

“What happened to no sharing?”

Penelope blinked up at him. “Are you, or are you not, a gentleman, Cole Sharpe?”

In response, he deliberately added ketchup to his hot dog. More than he usually would.

Then he took a big bite, holding her gaze the entire time as he chewed.

Her eyes narrowed. “That’s how it’s gonna be, huh? This is our ball game future?”

He licked ketchup from his lip.

She went on her toes, getting up in his face. “Game on, Sharpe.”

“Penelope Pope, are you roughing up a man for his hot dog?” Grace asked from behind them.

“That was the plan, until he defiled it with ketchup.” Penelope scanned both Grace and Jake, before her gaze locked on Jake’s hot dog. “Malone. Give me that.”

Jake sighed and handed it over as he met Cole’s eyes with a questioning smile. “This is the one, huh?”

Oh yes. This is the one.

Seemingly oblivious to the conversation going on around her, Penelope took a bite of Jake’s hot dog—no ketchup—before handing it back with a happy sigh.

“That’s all I wanted, Cole. One bite.”

“Fair enough,” he said. “So you won’t mind giving Jake one of your nachos in return, right?”

Penelope clutched their food tray to her chest and gave Jake a warning glare. “Don’t you dare.”

Cole put his palm on the top of her head. “Come on, weirdo. Game’s about to start.”

They headed toward their section, and Cole glanced down at her. “Want me to carry the tray?”

Penelope all but rattled at him, and he smiled. How had he ever thought a boring model-type could keep him happy? All he needed was a pint-size baseball fan.

Unlike last weekend, the weather was perfect. Just a handful of white puffy clouds, the slightest early-summer breeze, and plenty of bright sunshine.

Baseball weather.

“Hey, Grace,” Cole said, putting an arm around Penelope’s shoulder as he looked over her head to where Grace delicately sipped her chardonnay.

“Hmm?”

He gave her a playful wink. “Remember that time you and I nearly made out for the kiss cam in this very stadium?”

Penelope glanced up at him, then at Grace. “Really. Do tell.”

Grace rolled her eyes. “It’s so not what it sounds like. Trust me.”

“It was going to be epic, Gracie, you know it was,” Cole teased.

Jake gave Cole a bland look over his wife’s head. “Sharpe. I will kill you.”

“More like you owe me for helping you come to your senses.”

Penelope was all but bouncing in her seat. “Come on, fill me in! This sounds juicy.”

“Oh it is,” Cole said. “But…another story for another time, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, like when we’re all dead,” Jake muttered.

Cole’s phone buzzed in his back pocket just as the first pitch was about to be thrown. He pulled it out—a local area code, but not a number he recognized. Cole shoved it back in his pocket. They could leave a voicemail.

The first Oakland batter went down swinging, and Cole cheered loudly with the rest of the stadium. Had to love a game that started with a strikeout.

Cole’s phone buzzed again, with the short voicemail notification. He thought about pulling it out, but the crowd was too keyed up on sunshine and beer and the Yankees. There was no way he’d be able to hear anything.

The second batter grounded out. The third struck out.

Cole stole one of Penelope’s nachos and winked at her when she glared.

His phone rang again as Oakland took the field for the bottom of the first. He pulled it out—same number.

“Hey, I’m gonna go take this,” he said to Penelope.

She nodded, cheeks full of pretzel, and Cole headed toward the main section, taking the steps two at a time.

“Cole Sharpe,” he said, once he’d gotten far enough away from the noise to answer.

“Hi, Mr. Sharpe? Is this the brother of Robert Sharpe?”

Cole froze. “Yeah, I’m Bobby’s brother. Who’s this?”

“This is Bellevue Hospital.”

Cole’s hand reached out blindly for the wall as he tried to steady himself.

Hospital.

The entire stadium drifted away, and it was only Cole, his ragged breath, and the voice of a stranger on the other end of the phone.

Oh, God. Bobby.

“Mr. Sharpe, I’m sorry to inform you that your brother’s been involved in an accident…”

Chapter 26

Penelope wasn’t sure how long she sat staring at the text on her cellphone, but it was long enough for Grace to give her a gentle nudge in the ribs.

“Pen. You okay? And where the heck is Cole; he’s been gone for like two and a half innings. I thought this was his team?”

Penelope opened her mouth, but no words came out. Instead she handed her phone to Grace. Jake leaned over to read the message.

Bobby was in an accident. Headed to hospital.

“Who’s Bobby?” Grace asked, her brown eyes wide with concern.

“His older brother,” Penelope replied.

Grace glanced at Jake in surprise. “Did you know Cole had a brother?”

Jake looked troubled. “Yeah. He rarely mentions him. I assumed they were at odds or something.”

Penelope swallowed. “He has Down syndrome and lives in a group care home. I can’t imagine what might have happened—”

Why hadn’t he taken her?

She understood Cole’s being in a hurry. Of course. But she would have gone with him if she’d known. She would have held his hand, and—

Penelope yanked her cellphone back out of her friend’s hand and typed a response to Cole.

What hospital? Is he okay?

Penelope spent the next four innings staring at her phone as she waited for a response that never came.

“Maybe I should just go to the hospital,” she said, for the tenth time.

“But which one?” Jake asked.

“All of them.”

“It’s New York City, hon. There’s not just the one hospital off Main Street.”

Penelope huffed out a breath. Jake was right. She’d already researched the various places where they could have taken Bobby, and there were a lot.

And she could call, but she was pretty sure they’d only release patient info to family members. What was she supposed to say? Hi, the brother of my nonboyfriend whom I only sleep with on weekends was in an accident.

“Come on, Cole,” Penelope muttered, staring down at her phone and willing it to give her a response.

“I can’t just sit here,” she said, leaning forward and curling into herself. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so miserable or helpless.

Grace rubbed her back. “Do you want to head back into the city? That way, if he does get back to you, you’ll be closer and can go to him.”

It was true. Bobby lived in Manhattan, so chances were, whatever happened to him had happened there. The closer she got to Manhattan, the closer she’d be to Bobby.

And to Cole.

“Yeah,” she said, “but you two stay here.”

“Hell no. We’re going with you,” Jake said. Grace nodded in agreement.

Penelope opened her mouth, but Jake cut her off. “We won’t go into the hospital, once you figure out where he is. We don’t belong there. But we’ll be there every step of the way up until then, ’kay?”

“Are you sure?”

“He’s our friend too,” Jake said quietly.

“Penelope.” Grace put a hand on her arm, her expression concerned. “This isn’t some little fling, is it? It’s more than you trying to move on from that Evan guy?”

Penelope couldn’t stop the little laugh that bubbled up.

Evan. She hadn’t thought about him since they’d ditched him at the restaurant on Friday night.

That anyone could think that Cole and Evan belonged in the same sentence, or even in the same thought…

Penelope might have loved Evan once. She might have. The kind of love that became sort of desperate because of its unrequited nature, thus making you feel that it was the biggest love you’d ever known.

But now…

In hindsight, Penelope recognized it for what it was—a shallow love that, while genuine, had never had the chance to grow roots.

For the longest time, she’d thought that Evan hadn’t seen her because she wasn’t a certain type. Because she wasn’t pretty enough or flashy enough.

But in the end, Evan Barstow was a useless jerk, and Cole was…

“It’s more than a fling,” Penelope said quietly.

Grace and Jake stood in unison, perfect soulmates that they were. “What are we waiting for? Up, Pen! Let’s go!”

The subway ride back to the city was the longest journey of Penelope’s life, but she was rewarded when they emerged from the tunnel in Manhattan and she had a text from Cole.

“Bellevue,” she said, already dashing to the curb to hail a cab. “He’s at Bellevue Hospital.”

A cab pulled up beside her, and Penelope reached for the door handle even before it came to a complete stop.

Then she whirled around, gave Grace and Jake fierce hugs. “Promise you’ll go someplace ridiculously fancy for dinner and let me pay you back for it later?”

They both ignored this. “Let us know as soon as you know what’s going on,” Grace said.

“I promise,” Penelope said, climbing into the cab. She blew them both a distracted kiss and then reread Cole’s text once more.

On one hand, he’d replied. Good sign. On the other hand…

They took him to Bellevue Hospital. He got hit by a cab while crossing the street. He’s fine, but they’re keeping him overnight. Don’t come, we’re fine.

Don’t come, he’d said.

Penelope tried not to read too much into it. He was probably just being a good guy—not wanting to take her away from the baseball game.

Don’t come.

There was something so final—so harsh about those two words. One sentence.

Don’t come.

“Too damn bad, Cole,” she muttered. “I’m coming anyway.”

Penelope tossed a twenty at the cabdriver, not bothering to wait for change, and sprinted into the hospital.

She started toward the reception desk then skidded to a halt and took several steps backward when she saw the gift shop out of the corner of her eye.

A couple emerged carrying flowers, but Bobby wouldn’t want flowers. Her eyes drifted to a display of balloons. Bobby would love balloons.

Ten minutes later, Penelope made her way to the reception desk with an enormous bouquet of orange, blue, and white balloons.

Penelope was in luck. She’d come during visiting hours.

Penelope followed the nurse’s directions to Bobby’s room, ignoring the annoyed looks she got when her balloons took up the entire elevator.

Her heart pounded harder as she approached Bobby’s room. Please let him be okay. Please let him be perfectly okay….

She got as far as the open doorway and froze, unsure of her best move.

Surprise!

It’s me!

I know you said don’t come, but I love you, so really, it wasn’t a choice…

In the end, it was Bobby who decided for her. He turned his head, and his face broke into a smile that felt like it lifted her heart right out of her chest.

“Penelope!”

Cole’s head whipped around.

He was seated in a chair next to Bobby’s bed, and even as she pasted on a smile for Bobby’s sake, inwardly she lurched at the look on Cole’s face.

He looked like he’d aged five years in two hours.

“Are those for me?” Bobby asked in a delighted voice, apparently unaware of his brother’s distress.

“Um, of course they are,” she said, coming toward the bed.

“Mets colors!”

“What else would I bring?” she said in a scoffing voice.

There was a tiny table and chair against the wall. “How about I tie these here?” she asked, looping the ends of the balloon strings through the rung on the back of the chair.

“Okay!”

“Who’s the bear from?” she asked, nodding at the enormous stuffed bear on the table.

“My friends at the Big House. They can’t come see me yet, but Cole said they wanted me to have the bear.”

Penelope risked a glance at Cole. He was standing now, hands shoved into his back pockets as he stared at Bobby with a bleak expression on his face.

Penelope’s smile never wavered, but her eyes skimmed over Bobby. His foot was in one of those sling things, a cast running all the way up to his upper thigh, but it was the only obvious sign that he’d been hurt.

“What happened?” she asked, coming to stand beside him.

Bobby sighed. “Cole’s mad.”

Cole ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not mad, it’s just—”

“I’m not supposed to leave the house by myself,” Bobby explained with a voice resembling a weary teenager’s. “But Penelope, I had to.”

She reached out and rubbed his arm. “What for?”

His eyes were wide and earnest. “For Carly. I wanted to get her flowers. Yellow ones, ’cuz they’re her favorites.”

Penelope swallowed. The sweetness was killing her.

“I didn’t know the taxi wouldn’t stop,” Bobby said glumly.

“You should have waited for me, Bobby,” Cole said.

“I know. You’ve told me a hundred times.”

“Then why—”

“I wasn’t going to see you till Wednesday,” Bobby said. “I needed the flowers for Carly today.”

Oh, Bobby, no.

Penelope closed her eyes.

She knew Bobby didn’t mean any harm. He was just stating facts without a single thought to laying blame.

But instinctively, Penelope knew it was the worst possible thing he could have said.

A glance at Cole confirmed it. He looked destroyed.

And Penelope knew why. Sunday was Cole and Bobby’s day; any other Sunday, Cole would have been there when Bobby wanted to get the flowers. Could have gone with him. Could have stopped him from stepping into the street.

But Cole had rescheduled for another day.

For her.

“Will you sign my cast?” Bobby asked. “My doctor says I have to wear it for weeks but that I can have everyone sign it if they want to.”

“I’d love to.”

“Okay,” Bobby said happily. “You can sign it after Carly. And after Cole.”

“Uh-huh, I see where I rank,” she teased.

“Penelope, can I talk to you for a sec? Outside.” Cole’s voice was gruff.

Uh-oh.

“Sure,” she said, smiling at him. He didn’t smile back.

“Bob, can you keep yourself busy watching TV for a few minutes?” Cole asked.

“Definitely,” Bobby said, attention already turned to the television. “Do they have ice cream here?”

“I don’t think so, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks for the balloons, Penelope!” Bobby called as she left the room.

She turned to face Cole as he followed her out, but he shook his head. “Not here. I need air.”

The walk to the elevator was silent. As was the ride down.

Not until they stepped outside into the warm sunshine did he speak.

“I told you not to come.”

Her footsteps faltered at his hard tone, and she turned to face him.

“I know,” she said quietly. “I just didn’t want you to be alone.”

“Are you kidding me, Penelope? He’s the one who shouldn’t have been alone,” Cole snapped. “I should have been there.”

She knew it was coming, but the sharpness in his tone still stung.

“It’s not your fault,” she said quietly.

He ignored her. “Do you know what he told me when I asked why he walked into the crosswalk when there was a no-walk sign?”

Penelope shook her head.

“He said that I do it all the time,” Cole said, his eyes wild. “That I never wait for the walk sign to indicate it’s okay to cross, so why should he?”

“Cole—”

“So let’s recap, shall we?” he said, voice louder. “My brother looks up to me for everything, and I teach him how to jaywalk. And then, on the one day out of the week that I’m supposed to be there for him, I’m at a fucking baseball game with a—”

Penelope narrowed her eyes. “With a what?”

“A woman,” he said tersely.

Penelope inhaled. She wasn’t exactly loving his tone. Still, the guy was having a rather massively bad day. He needed patience, not for her to go all diva on him.

Cole closed his eyes briefly. “I never should have canceled on Bobby.”

She took a step closer and reached out a hand. He backed up, which stung even more than his sharp words, but she let it go.

This wasn’t about her.

“I’d be feeling the same if I were in your shoes,” Penelope said quietly. “But I wouldn’t be any kind of friend if I didn’t tell you that this isn’t your fault. You do your best by Bobby, but you can’t put him in a bubble. You can’t be there every second of every day.”

“Yes, but—”

She pressed on. “What if this had happened on a Tuesday morning? Or a Thursday evening? What if he’d decided that Carly needed to have her flowers at midnight on Monday? The fact that this happened on Sunday is a coincidence, Cole.”

“Maybe,” he granted. “But Penelope, he’s up there with his leg in a cast, and bruises up and down his torso, and—”

“And he’s fine.” She found his hand and squeezed. “I’m not minimizing what happened, but he’s okay, Cole. And we’ll talk to him about crossing the street, and we’ll be more careful about—”

Cole stepped back, shaking off her hand. “We?”

Penelope faltered. “Well, I mean, I don’t want to insert myself, but I care about Bobby too—”

He laughed. “Today is the second time you’ve ever even met the guy, Penelope. Him dumping his popcorn all over you at a baseball game hardly makes you part of the family.”

She blew out a breath. “Wow.”

His words hurt; she suspected that he meant them to, but once again she tried to remember Cole wasn’t being himself.

“I’m not trying to insert myself into your family,” she said.

“And yet you came, when I specifically asked you not to.”

Penelope held her palms out to her sides and then let them drop. “What’s going on here, Cole? I’m having a hard time seeing my crime. I brought Bobby balloons, which he loved. I came to be here for you—”