Irresistibly Yours - Lauren Layne Page 0,32

she explained. “But sometimes it’s better to be prepared, you know? To be aware that for every moment of wonder, another of disappointment is likely to follow.”

Cole considered this.

He was surprised to realize how closely her philosophy aligned with his own.

Cole knew how people saw him. He was aware of his charming, easygoing image. He cultivated it, even. Everyone assumed that nothing got under Cole’s skin because he never showed it getting under his skin.

But part of the reason he was able to maintain the happy-go-lucky vibe more often than not was precisely because of what Penelope was describing. He was always prepared for when the other shoe dropped; and as long as he knew it was coming, he could grin and bear it.

“So what about tonight?” he asked curiously. “You seemed like you were having fun.”

“Yes! So much fun,” she said, sounding so happy that his chest squeezed.

“So what’s the downside of a happy dinner party?” he asked teasingly. “What’s the ugly underside?”

She was quiet, and he was surprised to see that she was really thinking about it.

They walked another half block before she replied. “The dark side will happen later tonight. When I’m almost asleep,” she said quietly. “It won’t quite be jealousy, but…something close to it.”

He supposed he should stop being surprised by Penelope Pope’s unabashed honesty, but she continued to catch him off guard with her openness.

“Jealous of…” he prompted.

“Their happiness,” she said quietly, sounding a little embarrassed. “I get that you’re a dedicated bachelor and all that, but surely it doesn’t escape how in love they are with their respective partners?”

Cole smiled a little. “I’ve noticed. Hell, I knew every last one of them when they were single, and believe me, watching them all find each other has been endlessly entertaining.”

“I bet it was lovely,” she said with a little sigh.

He couldn’t help laughing. “You’re a romantic.”

“I know,” she said, smiling up at him through the increasingly heavy snowfall as they walked. “It’s always baffled my parents. Just when my dad started to get excited about my love of sports, I’d throw him off by crying over a romantic movie. And my mom would be all thrilled when I asked to borrow her Jane Austen books, only to be dismayed when I put them aside to watch a football game.”

“No siblings to take the heat off?”

“A sister,” she said. “Janie’s younger by two years. We’re totally opposite, and yet I think we sort of balance each other. I’m lucky to have her. She’s the most fiercely loyal person I know.”

Cole nodded, and she tilted her head to look up at him. “What about you, any siblings?”

He stiffened the way he always did when someone mentioned his siblings, but then forced his shoulders to relax, remembering that her question was harmless—innocent.

“An older brother,” he said, his voice coming out gruff.

Cole didn’t need another reason to like Penelope Pope, but she gave him one anyway.

She didn’t ask questions. Didn’t look offended that he didn’t elaborate. Instead, she seemed to know that the topic of his brother was not an open one, and she let it go.

But not before she touched his hand, just briefly. It was nothing. Glove to glove, not even any skin contact. There was zero agenda in the touch—no attempt at seduction, no playing coy as though it was an accident.

The touch merely was.

It said, I’m here, but only if you want me to be.

And, oddly enough, he did want her to be. There was something calming about Penelope Pope.

Not because she was particularly quiet or serene. He’d witnessed that just an hour ago during a spontaneous group game of charades in which she’d thrown her whole body into an attempt to get the group to guess cyclone.

No, her calming influence came from her being genuine. Despite her penchant for sports, there was no game playing with this woman.

He liked her. A lot.

Cole let out a laugh as he realized it had been a long time since he’d simply liked a woman, save for the Stiletto ladies, all of whom he counted among his closest friends.

But Julie, Grace, Riley, and Emma were either married or close to it.

Penelope was single.

Although maybe not for long. He’d lost count of the number of times over the course of the evening that one of the women had unsubtly asked if Lincoln was seeing anyone. He also hadn’t missed the way the seating arrangement had put Penelope between him and Lincoln.

As though they were supposed to fight over

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