After the Storm Page 9

  Penn wanted so much to be in on it, just to have a normal damn night, working, jawing with his buddies, that he could practically taste it.

  He could walk down there, just stop by. Maybe see if there were any leftovers from dinner. His stomach growled at the thought. It was out of the question if he wanted to be able to make it home on foot. He’d been walking a lot more and had increased his endurance, but he was close to his limit for the night already. He refused to stoop to asking one of his coworkers for a ride because he couldn’t make it a couple of miles.

  He turned away from the station and took a few steps north. Watched a family of five, probably tourists, packing up picnic supplies and getting ready to head back to whatever hotel they were staying at.

  The distinctive coral color of the Silver Sands Hotel, about a block and a half away, captured his attention. He wondered if Nadia was still there. It’d been several days since she’d texted him in the middle of the night. Since he’d promised himself he’d apologize to her. He hadn’t done a thing about that promise yet but now seemed as good a time as any. He pulled his phone out to send her a message.

  Got cookies?

  The mere mention of them made his mouth water and it hit him that he’d forgotten about dinner. Zoe had left the kitchen well stocked, but none of it was convenience food. If he wanted to eat, he was going to have to break down and cook something. Which, no doubt, had been his sister’s objective.

  As the seconds ticked by, he became more and more convinced Nadia wasn’t going to respond. Telling himself it didn’t matter, he strolled farther in from the water to find a suitable place to sit and rest before heading back to his suffocating condo.

  His phone buzzed. Just checked. Front desk is out! On way to kitchen.

  He half smiled and typed his response, still standing. That’s excellent service.

  Only the best at Silver Sands. How’d you know I was working?

  Superspidey senses.

  Funny. You’re in luck. Found cookies. Want me to bring them over?

  Penn tried not to let her offer get to him. You’d do that?

  Home deliveries only for the injured.

  Guess I shouldn’t tell you I’m staring at hotel, then.

  You’re here?

  Down the beach. Near Lambert’s.

  The ice cream shop held no temptation for him when it was a choice between that and Nadia’s chocolate chip cookies.

  On my way with emergency cookie stash.

  Penn ignored the surge of anticipation. Will meet you by your hotel.

  Where he hoped like hell there was a decent place to sit.

  He made his way toward the building and came to the conclusion that even in athletic shoes, walking in the sand was harder on the body. Maybe it should have been obvious, but apparently this was yet another thing he hadn’t noticed until he couldn’t do it anymore.

  When he was three-quarters of the way to the hotel, he spotted a woman coming toward him. Her blond hair looked almost white in the moonlight and he knew it was Nadia before he could see her face. His heart did its usual picking-up-speed thing at the sight of her.

  “Hey,” Nadia said once they were close enough. “What are you doing out here, anyway? I thought you couldn’t drive for a month.”

  “I can’t. But I can walk.” In theory. He was beginning to wonder how he would make it home. Resting first should do the trick. “I came out to breathe in some fresh sea air.”

  She looked at the gulf and inhaled deeply, causing her chest to rise and catch his notice. She wore a dark skirt that hit her at midthigh and a thin pink camisole that looked like it belonged beneath a suit jacket. One hand cradled a white paper bag and the other held her shoes, dark-colored sandals, with stiletto-looking heels that could be used as a weapon.

  “Fresh air helps everything. I think I needed some, too,” she said. “Want to sit out here and devour cookies?”

  “Thought you’d never ask.”

  Nadia looked around, as if trying to find a good spot on the sand. When she turned to him, though, she frowned. “You need a solid place to sit, don’t you?”

  “A handicapped space,” he said, trying to smile. Irritation bubbled up that he was no longer just a normal guy who could sit on the beach with a woman. He fought it off before he could take it out on Nadia, as he seemed to do on a regular basis.

  His attention was captured by the thin strap of her camisole, or rather, the sliver of delicate lace that was exposed beneath when it shifted on her shoulder. Though he tried to resist, his eyes wandered downward to see if he could glimpse the lingerie through the lightweight material in front. Sure enough, the detail of the floral lace texture was just discernable as it stretched over the curves of her breasts.

  “There are some pretty supportive chairs on the patio back there.” She gestured over her shoulder toward the hotel.

  Penn snapped his gaze back to her face. “Is it crowded?” he asked, ignoring the image of her slipping off that camisole and revealing the bra that intrigued him so. He couldn’t say why. Women’s underwear had never particularly enthralled him before. Normally, it was just another layer to get out of the way. But there was something about the contrast between the unflappable, steamrolling woman and the delicate femininity of the lace…

  “Not this time of year.”

  They headed in the direction she’d come from. In spite of the beautiful woman walking next to him, Penn was absorbed by the growing discomfort in his back and legs. Maybe he’d overestimated what he could handle after that PT session. He couldn’t wait to sit down.

  Nadia led him to a small wrought-iron table for two with straight-back, cushioned chairs. It was on the outer edge of the patio, closest to the beach, partially secluded by palms.

  “I haven’t been in your hotel for years,” Penn said, looking around with interest now that he knew one of the women behind the business. “How long has your family owned it?”

  “We moved here when I was in first grade but my parents only managed the hotel back then. They were able to purchase it about fourteen years ago.”

  “And they still oversee day-to-day operations?”

  “My dad died a few years ago but my mom is the general manager.” She opened the paper sack as she talked and handed him a cookie. “This place kind of rules our lives, mostly in a good way.”

  Not exactly headline news. He bit into his cookie and realized he was scowling. “You seem to like it that way.”

  “Silver Sands is in my blood, I guess.”

  Nadia broke off a bite-size piece of her own cookie and paused. “We should probably talk about something different. My job is a sore subject.”

  “I never said that.”

  “You didn’t have to.” She rustled in the sack for seconds for both of them. “It’s true that this place doesn’t leave me much time for a personal life, but it’s a conscious decision.”

  This was where he was supposed to apologize and yet…she was right. Her job did set his teeth on edge. Especially given what her dedication had cost him. He gave himself credit just for remaining calm. That was progress.

  An uncomfortable silence arose and he shifted his attention to the view, the dessert, anything besides that one topic that kept coming between them.

  “We’re doing this all wrong. We need drinks,” Nadia said. She tilted her head and her camisole strap shifted, again revealing a hint of distracting lace. “What would you like?”

  A shot of tequila would dim the pain shooting down his leg, but it wouldn’t go well with the best cookies on the planet. “What are you having?”

  “Milk, of course. There are eight more cookies in the bag to dunk.”

  “You can’t eat six of these things.” They weren’t small cookies, and Nadia’s body showed no evidence that she overindulged in sweets. Not that he was looking.

  “Watch me,” Nadia said. “I haven’t had anything since lunch. Milk for you, too?”

  He shrugged. Nadia went over to a house ph
one he hadn’t noticed on the exterior wall closest to their table, picked it up and spoke softly enough he couldn’t hear. With bare feet and wind-tousled hair, she looked less like an executive who ran this hotel and more like a teenage girl calling her mom to ask to break curfew. Which should have discouraged him from checking out her legs, from noticing she had just the right amount of tone to them, that her hips curved out to give her an hourglass shape.

  He positioned his chair to face the beach so she was out of his line of sight.

  She returned and took her seat, smiling at him, seemingly oblivious to his turmoil. Did her job obsession make him want to smash something? Did he want to kiss her again? Blame her? Sympathize with her?

  The answer to all was yes.

  “Milk is on its way,” she said.

  “I could get used to this kind of service. Now I understand the real reason you spend so much time here.”

  “It has its perks.”

  “Pool? Gym? Cook?” He nodded. “Not bad at all.”

  “I always intend to use the fitness center more often than I do. My dad would disown my mother and me if he could see how seldom we take advantage of it. It was his favorite part. He worked out seven days a week, no matter how busy he was.”

  “What happened to your dad?” Penn asked hesitantly.

  “He had a heart attack in his sleep.” She seemed to forget about her cookie, lowering her sad gaze. “So ironic. He was so active and did have a lot of stress but it wasn’t until he was resting peacefully that…” She shook her head.

  Aggravated or not, Penn was moved by her story. He touched the back of her hand, unsure whether he should have asked.

  “It definitely brought my mom and me closer. This brings us closer.” She gestured to the building beside them. “It’s kind of our last connection to him, as well.” She laughed sadly. “Doesn’t make a lot of sense, probably.”

  “Kind of does.” Penn couldn’t really relate to the family ties. He and his sister had gotten along well enough while she was in town but he couldn’t imagine them working together. And as for his mom… No way, no how, never.

  He hadn’t thought much about not having a close-knit family since he’d left home, but Nadia made him consider what he’d been missing.

  A teenager in a uniform approached their table with a serving tray.

  “Hey, Lyla, thanks for bringing that out here.” Nadia helped her unload two glasses and a silver pitcher of milk.

  Lyla looked a little confused by the odd request until she spotted the bag of cookies. Then she smiled and nodded knowingly. “You have to dunk.”

  “My kind of girl.” Nadia handed Lyla one of the cookies. “That’s for you but you have to get your own milk.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Hamlin. Have a good night.” She nodded at Penn and left.

  “Good way to get out of eating half a dozen cookies,” Penn said once they were alone again.

  “Oh, I gave her one of yours.”

  He grinned in spite of himself. “You know all your employees’ names?”

  “Not the newest ones, usually. Lyla has been with us for two years. Her very first job.”

  “Lucky her.”

  “Maybe. We’ve had to reduce a lot of the service staff’s hours in the past few months. We’ve been able to avoid layoffs so far but the loss of hours has hit people in some departments hard.”

  Penn filled both short, fat glasses with milk. “Apparently we’re supposed to dunk.” He picked up another cookie and broke it in half so it would fit into the glass.

  “Wait,” Nadia said. “You have to do it the right way.”

  “The right way. Educate me, please, Ms. Chocolate Chip Expert.”

  She took on an exaggerated, official air. “You dip the cookie in about an inch and then you hold to the count of three.”

  “Not four.”

  “Three. To get the proper dunkage effect without turning it into sog.”

  He raised his eyebrows at her.

  “Technical terms. Trust me.”

  “Oh, I do, at least in the art of cookie dunking.”

  “Ready?”

  He sat up straighter, taking on a formal cookie-dunking stance. They dipped their cookies in at the same time and Nadia counted aloud. Then they both took a bite.

  She was right. It was even better dunked. “Tastes like chocolate chip ice cream,” he said.

  Nadia’s eyes were closed, and the look on her face as she savored her cookie… He had to glance away to stop the dirty thoughts from circulating through his head.

  “Where can I buy some of these?” he asked, dipping another bite.

  “Just text your friendly hotel rep and she can set you up.” She held the sack out to him. “You can have the rest of these.”

  “Lucky for me, Zoe left a jug of milk.”

  “It has to be whole milk. None of that watered-down skim stuff or you won’t get the ice cream sensation.”

  “Whole milk and cookies for dinner and yet you don’t weigh much more than a bird. How is that possible?”

  Nadia laughed and popped the last bite in her mouth. “It’d have to be a very large bird. Ostrich, maybe?”

  “You’ve got better legs,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “Aww, thanks. You’re too kind. I already confessed I don’t exercise enough. I’m a sloth.”

  “Most sloths aren’t still at work at—” he checked his watch “—8:45 p.m.”

  “The night is young.”

  “For those of us still in recovery, it’s time to call it a night,” Penn said. “I need to go home so you can get back to business.”

  Penn stood, maybe too quickly, with not enough regard to his tired muscles, and a pain shot through his lower back. He squeezed his eyes closed against it, then exhaled slowly, quietly, trying not to alert Nadia when his every instinct was to yell an obscenity or twelve.

  “What’s wrong?” she said, taking a step forward.

  He clenched his fist and it was all he could do to keep from banging it on the table. Damn worthless body. He’d give anything to have the old one back.

  “Are you okay?”

  “No, I’m not okay,” he bit out. He reined in the urge to tell her exactly what he thought of his injury and what had caused it.

  He straightened the rest of the way slowly, waiting for another stabbing pain. He searched the patio for the best escape route. “How do I get out of here?”

  “I’ll show you.”

  “Just tell me.”

  She looked at him searchingly. Again. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  He gritted his teeth. “Dandy. That door over there?”

  “That takes you to the lobby and you can go out the front from there. But I can give you a ride.”

  “No.” His answer was curt.

  “You look like you might collapse,” she said.

  Blow out a couple of disks and that was one of the results.

  “Really, Penn. This isn’t the time to let your pride get in the way.”

  He turned to face her, his jaw stiff. She was less friendly and more quietly determined. But her determination was no match for his rage.

  Penn managed to speak in a low, even voice when he finally answered. “Hate to break it to you, Nadia, but pride is one of the few things I have left.”

  With that, he turned and made his painfully slow way to the door.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  NADIA FELT AS THOUGH Penn had slapped her.

  She glared at his back as he crossed the patio, refusing to allow any sympathy to seep in. If he wanted to walk home in pain, who was she to argue?

  Taking a different route from him, she went through the staff door Lyla had used and marched to the front desk to greet the night staff on her way to her office. Lucas, one of her favorite employees who’d worked there for eighteen years, had several funny lines for her and managed to make her laugh. Then she spotted Penn.

  He was still walking toward the main door. Slowly. Not quite li
mping, but his gait definitely had a catch in it. She could tell from here that he was in pain and she growled in frustration.

  “Everything okay there, Miss Nadia?” Lucas asked.

  “Just fine,” she said, watching Penn for as far as she could see him once he exited the building.

  “‘Fine’ doesn’t normally elicit angry animal noises.”

  Penn slipped out of view and she met Lucas’s questioning gaze. “Stupid, stubborn man. Men can be such idiots. No offense.”

  He chuckled. “None taken. I’m sure you can change his mind, whoever he is.”

  Nadia shook her head and drummed her fingers on the marble counter. “I already tried. You have a good evening, Lucas.”

  “You do the same,” he said as she strode toward the executive offices.

  She’d no sooner entered her office than she muttered a curse, put on her shoes, grabbed her purse and took off toward the side exit to where her car was parked.

  She was just reassuring herself. That was all.

  There were only two routes Penn could take to get home, so she shouldn’t have to search too long. He’d never even know she was checking up on him, and once she saw with her own eyes that he was making progress—from a distance, of course—she’d turn around and go back to work.

  She turned onto the main street from the parking lot and scanned both sidewalks. The streetlights were lit, but a lot of the businesses were dark since it was late and off-season. Moving at a crawl, she hunted the shadows.

  She spotted someone a block away, but as she got closer, it became obvious that it wasn’t Penn. The person was jogging. And female.

  At Pebble Street, she turned right. It was darker off the main boulevard, so she slowed down even more, afraid she would whip right past him and not only risk missing him altogether but get busted checking up on him in the process.

  Penn lived one block south of Pebble, and when Nadia reached his street, she still hadn’t seen a hint of him. There was no way he’d already made it home—not at the rate he was walking. She quelled her growing alarm by reassuring herself that if he’d been hit by a bus or fallen over on the sidewalk, she would have seen him. He must have taken the other route.