But what if we can’t figure this out?
Friendship, I can handle. I can safeguard it, protect it, make it last. On the other hand, love is volatile. It goes sour fast. It can blow up right in your face. But more and more I’ve been thinking loving Penny might be worth the risk.
Dad seems to be reading me like a book. He shakes his head. “This is your turn to decide, son. Just figure out what you want, figure out what you’re willing to fight for…and fight, dammit.” He squeezes my shoulder. “Don’t mess it up with that girl.”
I nod, my heart kicking out an anxious beat. “I’ll try not to,” I utter, unable to promise much more. Having a hard time maintaining eye contact, I glance off to where Mom is struggling on the steep slope up toward the guesthouse.
Dad claps me on the back again. “Tell Penny we say hello,” he requests and then turns back, following Ma’s trail like a determined man, like she’s all he’s ever wanted.
35
Penny
I’m in the kitchen, hunched over the ironing board with my little radio playing pop music. I’m trying to get the pleats out of the new bedroom curtains.
I look an absolute mess in oversized flannel and shorts. Walker didn’t pack me nearly enough clothes when he filled my suitcase, and I haven’t been back to my apartment to collect more. But despite my tragically unfashionable wardrobe, I’m happy and singing and wiggling my butt in time to my music.
It’s been a few days since the mold fiasco at my apartment, and my annoyance with Walker’s dominating behavior has nearly subsided. I’d never admit it to him but it’s not half bad, staying out here on the farm. It’s peaceful. Relaxing. Exactly what this bloated, tired, pregnant lady needs.
I adore the way this remodel is turning out. Sometimes, I have to rein myself in because I get carried away, injecting a bit too much of my personal preferences into the space but Walker hasn’t complained. In fact, I think he likes it for the most part.
The thought of the big man makes excitement ripple through my tummy. I haven’t seen him all day. He’s usually gone before I wake up in the morning, getting an early start around the farm. Yet, I always find some sort of breakfast waiting for me in the kitchen. At lunch time, he comes by with a plate of food from his parents’ guesthouse.
It’s been nice having someone taking care of me for once. It’s something I definitely am not accustomed to. It’s sweet, knowing he cares.
Don’t get carried away, Penny. He’s doing it all for the baby.
Walker has always had this generous gene that forces him to care for everyone around him. Despite his reclusive, grumpy nature, he's a full-on protector for the people he loves. I’ve always known that. But I’m becoming a swoony mess for his nurturing side, too.
Again, he’s doing…it…for…the…baby.
The constant reminders are necessary so my silly brain doesn’t forget. If he’s getting up extra early to fry me an egg, I’m sure he’s just operating on auto-pilot.
“Knock, knock,” a female voice sounds from behind me, breaking me out of my daydreaming. I really need to cut that shit out while I’m on the clock here. I don’t think Walker is paying me to sit around and try to figure him out.
I turn and find Jessa poking her head in through the backdoor.
“Hey girl!” I turn off the iron and amble across the room to greet her with a hug.
Her smile lights up the kitchen. “I’m about to take off for the weekend. I just wanted to check in on you before I leave.” Jessa passionately dedicates herself to her role as little Callie’s nanny most days of the week but she gets every other Saturday and Sunday off. And she deserves it. The adorable angel is a handful.
“Oh my gosh, yes! I need a lemonade break and some girl talk.” I laugh as I head for the refrigerator.
Now that I’m staying here, too, I’ve been seeing more of Jessa, and I’m definitely not complaining because I love her face. The girl is a walking, talking ball of ‘happy’.
I emerge from the fridge a second later with a pitcher of juice, fresh fruit and some other snacks. She slings her handbag over the back of her chair and grabs glasses from the cabinet. We sit at the table.
“What ya got there?” I jut my chin at the envelope poking out the top of her handbag.
“Uh…nothing. Just, um, job applications. Gotta drop by the post office.” She hurriedly stuffs down the mail and zips her purse shut.
I grin to myself and shove a pickle into my mouth to hide it. Yup! Jessa’s definitely got herself a secret and I’m sure it’s juicy!
My eyes flutter into my head and I groan with pleasure when I crunch into my pickle.
“Well, you’re not cliché at all.” My friend juts her chin at my bottle of sweet and tangy preserved cucumber goodness.
I smile around a mouthful. “My cravings are pretty boring. It’s just me and my pickles all damn day.” Walker filled an entire shelf in the fridge.
Jessa snatches up her full glass. “Could be worse.” She wrinkles up her face. “Remember Lexi went through that bacon-wrapped chocolate phase in her second trimester?”
I fake-gag at the memory.
“I can whip up a batch for you if you want to shake things up a little,” she offers sarcastically.
I laugh. “I’ll pass. I
