Too Hard to Handle, page 31
After a bit Ozzie ventured, “Zoelner says he and Chelsea might have to make a trip overseas to follow a lead on Spider.” When Dan looked over, it was to find Ozzie fighting a grin. “That should be interesting,” he added, his tone filled with innuendo.
“Or deadly,” Dan said. Ever since being teamed up with Chelsea, Zoelner had been a walking time bomb. All of the Knights had been giving him a wide berth. “They may end up killing each other.”
“Or getting down to the business of finally screwing each other,” Ozzie speculated. “Which, if you ask me, would make life easier for all of us.”
“Mmm,” Dan hummed noncommittally, frowning when Ozzie winced and grabbed his thigh. “Still pretty painful, huh?” he asked carefully.
Ozzie’s leg was a sore subject, literally and figuratively. And Dan couldn’t help but notice that much of Ozzie’s jocularity these days seemed disingenuous, forced. As if Ozzie was putting on a show for them so they wouldn’t know how much he was hurting. So they wouldn’t know how scared he was. If Ozzie couldn’t bounce back from this injury, if he couldn’t perform his duty in the field, his career as an operator would be over. None of them wanted to countenance the idea, but it was something they would all be forced to face. Probably sooner rather than later.
“Shooting pains,” Ozzie grumbled, waving him off. “I can handle it.”
Dan didn’t say any more, didn’t press. He knew a brick wall when he came up against it. For a while longer, they sat and sipped, watching hockey players battle it out on screen. Then Ozzie said, “You won’t get discouraged and give up, will you?”
“What do you mean?”
“On Penni.”
“Oh, hell no.” Dan shook his head emphatically. “I love her. And if I’ve learned anything, it’s that life’s full of uncertainties. But all you need to be able to deal with those uncertainties is one thing, just one thing that’s true. One thing you can hang onto and depend on. My love for Penni is that thing for me now. And I’m not giving up on it. Not ever.”
“And Patti?” Ozzie asked, his expression curious.
“What about her?” Dan lifted a brow.
“You still love her too, right?”
Of course he did. “I’m gonna love her ’til the day I die,” he admitted. “Which sort of reminds me of something a guy said at my last AA meeting.”
“What’s that?”
“He said love isn’t something you find, it’s something that finds you.”
“It’s a nice thought.”
“Yeah.” Dan nodded. “And how many men get to be found by love twice in one lifetime?”
Something strange passed over Ozzie’s face. His lips twisted. “Not many,” he allowed. “You’re one lucky sonofabitch, you know that?”
“Yeah, I do.” And he truly, deeply did.
Now to convince Penni…
* * *
Penni’s Condominium, Washington, DC
Two months later
Penni pressed the button on her building’s intercom system and leaned close to the speaker. “Dan?”
He was early. He wasn’t due to arrive until tomorrow and—
“No! It’s Becky!” came a reply.
“Becky?” Penni’s chin jerked back. The only Becky she knew worked at BKI, but there’s no way that Becky was here in DC and—
“Becky Knight,” the woman said.
Oh-kay. Obviously there is a way.
And then a terrible thought occurred and Penni’s heart exploded in her chest. Goose bumps peppered her skin and tears immediately welled in her eyes. Dread and denial made the finger she used to press the buzzer that unlocked the front door of the building shake. Also shaking was the protective hand she placed over her belly.
“C-come up, Becky,” she said, her voice hollow and quiet compared to the dull roar sounding between her ears.
She threw open her front door and waited as little stars began to dance in front of her eyes. The hallway was empty but she could hear the elevator begin its climb up to the fourth floor. Christ, Dan! Oh Christ! She gripped the doorjamb so hard her knuckles turned white and the wood beneath her fingers creaked a warning. Then with a ding the elevator doors opened and Becky emerged. She was quickly followed by Michelle and Vanessa.
Oh Dan! No! Penni had been living with grief most of her adult life, but nothing prepared her for the blow her soul took when three of the women of Black Knights Inc. arrived at her door. It could mean only one thing…
Her legs stopped supporting her and she crumpled to the floor, sitting cross-legged and bawling as her already-broken heart shattered into a million sharp pieces.
“Oh no!” Becky said as the three women raced to her, kneeling beside her where she’d ended up half in and half out of her doorway.
“Dan?” Penni croaked, her throat full of tears, her vocal cords raw from where the shards of her heart had slashed them bloody.
“God, no!” Michelle said. “He’s fine.” She socked Becky on the arm. “I told you we should have called before coming. Look what we’ve done to the poor woman.”
Penni gaped around at them through her blurry tears. “H-he’s f-fine?” She sniffed, blinking in confusion, in hope.
“Perfectly,” Becky assured her. “He just can’t make it this weekend. He’s stuck on an assignment that—”
Penni didn’t hear the rest because she really started wailing. Only this time it was in relief. In gratitude. When she’d seen all of them, she’d thought for sure Dan was dead. Why else would they be here? And even though she knew now that he wasn’t, she couldn’t stop the waterworks. They kept coming, drenching her face, shaking her chest, making her hiccup on huge, wrenching sobs.
“I told you,” Michelle said again.
“Okay,” Becky harrumphed. “You’re my sister-in-law and I love you. But you can stop drilling. You struck oil the first time.”
“Come on.” Vanessa hooked a hand under Penni’s arm. Michelle followed suit on her opposite side. “Up you go. No need to give the neighbors gossip fodder.”
Old Mrs. Perkins across the way did fancy herself the building’s resident reporter, gathering stories about the other tenants and relaying them to anyone who would listen.
Penni pushed herself up, tipping forward slightly because she was unused to her new girth. And, you know, because she was still sobbing. Why can’t I stop crying? But she knew. Hormones. Hers had been running amok for months. Being pregnant was the emotional equivalent of thirty-seven weeks of PMS.
As if Michelle was reading her mind, she tsked and said, “I know. I know. The hormones are killer. Let’s just get you a nice comfy seat, a tissue, and something cool to drink.”
Penni realized she was being managed when Vanessa and Michelle turned her into her condo and marched her toward her sofa. Becky followed them inside, quietly closing the door. As Michelle and Vanessa gently pressed her down into her couch, Becky crossed the room and made herself at home in Penni’s kitchen. She rooted around in the cupboards until she found a drinking glass.
Penni had just about managed to stop her tears when Becky shoved a glass of water under her nose and Michelle and Vanessa plopped down on either side of her. Like magic, a box of tissues appeared in her lap.
“We’re so sorry we scared you,” Vanessa said, her dark eyes sympathetic. “We didn’t come here for that.”
Penni took a sip of water, allowing it to cool the hot tears gathered in her throat. Then she noisily blew her nose. “Wh-why did you come here?” she asked, blinking at the two women on the sofa with her and then over at Becky who’d grabbed a place on the love seat.
“To make you an offer,” Becky said.
The determined look on the blond’s face had Penni’s inner radar beeping. Becky Knight looked like the kind of woman who didn’t take no for an answer. Penni darted a glance at Vanessa. No help there. The black-haired beauty wore a look very similar to Becky’s. Michelle. She’s always the sympathetic one. Penni looked over only to discover…nope.
She couldn’t begin to imagine what the BKI women were here to offer. Did they want her to leave Dan alone? Did they think she was trying to trap him? Did they come here to make sure she didn’t try to wriggle into their tight-knit group?
“Wh-what offer is that?” she ventured hesitantly, pulling a fresh Kleenex from the box and dabbing her eyes. The tears had finally stopped. But Christ knew they’d start again at the drop of the hat. Yesterday, she’d broken down for ten minutes after watching a commercial for Android phones. The son and father scene had just been so touching. And she’d imagined that someday Dan and their child would—
“The offer of a home in Chicago,” Vanessa said.
“I’m sorry?” Penni felt her brow furrow. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
The move drew Michelle’s eyes. She smiled and sighed. “Man, your hair looks great. All shiny and thick. These middle months are a dream, aren’t they? When you no longer have morning sickness? When you’re feeling all vibrant and healthy and I am woman, hear me roar?”
“I—” Penni shook her head, confused. “I’m sorry. What’s happening here?” She turned to Vanessa. “Did you just offer me a home in Chicago?”
“Yepper,” Becky said. When Penni glanced at her, it was to find her expression was even more tenacious. Becky reached into her hip pocket to extract a Dum Dum lollipop. After unwrapping it, she continued, “See, the three of us have been talking.”
“A lot,” Vanessa added.
“And scheming,” Becky stressed.
“A lot,” Vanessa said again.
“And to the everlasting exasperation of the men in our lives,” was Michelle’s addition to the conversation.
“And we think you should come to Chicago,” Becky finished.
Penni opened her mouth, but before she could say a word, Becky pointed her sucker between Penni’s eyes. “No. Just hear us out. See, we think it’s unfair to make Dan fly to DC every other weekend to check up on you.”
“That was his decision,” Penni said in her own defense, feeling her cheeks heat. Somehow, with these women sitting in her living room, she felt like she’d done something wrong. Which she hadn’t, but—
“I know,” Becky allowed. “Still, he’s got an important job to do.”
“They all do,” Michelle added.
“And it’d be easier on him…” Becky said.
“On all of us, really…” Michelle contributed. Penni was getting dizzy from the tag-team conversation.
“If you just moved to Chicago,” Becky finished.
For a moment Penni could do nothing but sit there blinking. Of all the presumptuous—
“Not forever,” Becky was quick to point out. Like somehow that concession made her preposterous idea easier to swallow. “But at least for the remainder of your pregnancy. And maybe for a few months afterward as well. When the baby is new and you need help.”
“And you will need some help,” Michelle insisted, nodding knowingly. “Take it from a woman who’s had two. The first three months are the hardest.”
“I—” Penni started, but Becky spoke right over her.
“And I don’t mean you’d have to move into the warehouse. That’s asking too much.” Oh, that was asking too much? Not the thousand-mile move? “But we have a friend, well…” Becky made a face, shoving the lollipop in her cheek. “She’s more of a sister-in-arms, really. Her name is Delilah and her uncle rehabs houses. Last year he redid a three-flat in the Gold Coast.”
“Which is a great neighborhood,” Vanessa insisted. “And only a couple of blocks from Northwestern Memorial Hospital, so super convenient for a woman in your condition.”
“And speaking of your condition,” Michelle said, “there’s a wonderful OB-GYN who works there. You’d love her. She’s this old hippie who has five kids of her own and is totally pragmatic about childbirth. The woman’s a friggin’ rock in the delivery room. Which is exactly what you want.”
“Ladies,” Becky harrumphed. “I’m trying to paint a word picture of Delilah’s uncle’s place here. Stop interrupting me.”
“Oh.” Michelle nodded, rolling her hand. “Proceed.”
“Thank you.” Becky nodded and sniffed like she was auditioning for the role of Queen of England. “See, the three-flat is an old greystone. The top two floors have been rented, but the bottom is free. It’s fully furnished, has these gorgeous dark wood floors, marble countertops, two bedrooms, and a lovely view out the big bay window onto Astor Street.”
“Which is this quiet, tree-lined street right off the Magnificent Mile,” Vanessa added.
“And Delilah’s uncle says you can live there for as long as you need at the family rate,” Becky continued. “Which is free except for utilities.”
Michelle glanced around the condo. “You could easily put all your stuff in storage for a few months. And once you’ve cleared this place out and slapped a new coat of paint on the walls, I bet it’d sell like a hotcake at a hotcake convention. Then, after the baby is born, and when you’re ready to go to work for your uncle—”
“If that’s what you decide you still want to do…” Becky interjected.
“Then all you’ll have to do is pack your bags and call the movers,” Michelle finished.
Penni’s head was spinning. “You guys really have been talking and scheming,” she said, lifting a hand to her throbbing forehead. “But…why would you be willing to do this? Why volunteer to help with—”
“Because we love Dan,” Becky cut her off, her expression plastered with duh. “And Dan loves you and that baby you’re carrying.” When Penni opened her mouth to argue about the first part of that sentence, Becky once again pointed her Dum Dum right between Penni’s eyes. “He’s family, which makes your baby family, and you family by extension. We take care of our family.”
And here Penni had been so scared of what Dan’s friends and coworkers would think of her once they knew. Here she’d thought they’d close ranks around him and push her out. But instead they were opening their arms and offering her a place within the fold. A new family to replace the one she’d lost when—
Oh Christ! Emotions filled her like suffocating smoke, making it impossible to breathe. Her face exploded. Once again it was all tears and snot and deep, racking sobs.
“Hormones,” she heard Michelle say knowingly.
* * *
303 North Astor Street, Chicago, Illinois
Three months later
Penni was as big as a house, overdue, and on a mission…
Oh, and cranky. She was really, really cranky. In her own defense, carrying around a nearly eight-and-a-half-pound baby—according to her obstetrician’s estimates—who seemed determined to stay inside to practice backflips atop her bladder would put any woman in a bad mood. And have any woman willing to try anything to speed the birthing process along. Hence, the mission.
If Dan will just hurry the hell up!
She waited impatiently by the front door of her greystone, straining her ears for the sound of his monster Harley. There. From up the street came the rumble of rolling thunder. She stepped onto the stoop and craned her head, her eyes searching. A flash of shiny red caught her attention. Heartbreaker. That was the name of his bike. And it looked the part. From its intricate cherry bomb–colored paint job, chrome battery box in the shape of a cracked heart, and twisty, turny exhaust pipes that grumbled and coughed and shook the air around them, it was enough to make every female—and male, for that matter—stare and wonder and ache and wish.
But right now, the only thing she wished was that Dan would get his fine ass moving. Because now that she’d made her decision, now that she had her mission set before her, she was ready to get going on it. Beyond ready. Like, she wanted to kick her own butt for not thinking of this yesterday.
Just keep calm and carry on.
Stuff it! she told the annoying voice.
Dan roared up to the curb, looking frustratingly handsome in biker boots, jeans, and leather jacket. Oh, and thin. He looked thin and comfortable and not nearly thirty-nine weeks pregnant. The bastard.
“I had to wait thirty minutes in line,” he told her after shutting down Heartbreaker’s engine and pulling off his helmet. He shook out his shaggy hair. The blonder streaks caught in the afternoon sunlight, glowing like a halo. But she knew for a fact the man was far from a saint. And to that end, she planned to insist he join her on a sinning spree very, very soon. “And then when I ordered the hot dogs with extra, extra peppers, they had to go in the back and open a new tub.”
“Forget the damned hot dogs,” she called, waddling—yes waddling, there was just no other way to describe it—down the steps and toward the curb.
He stopped making his way up the walk, his chin jerking back. “Forget the hot dogs? Did you miss the part where I just said I had to stand in line for thirty minutes to—”
She closed the distance between them, grabbed the lapels of his biker jacket, and silenced him with a kiss. Oh my… For a second she forgot everything—her plan, her reason, her surroundings. Because his lips were smooth and firm, just as she remembered them. His tongue wet and bold, stealing into her mouth to conquer and claim. His arms strong and sure as they wrapped around her waist. No, not waist. She hadn’t seen her waist in months.
But that was neither here nor there, because Christ, she’d missed his kisses. Dreamed about them…every flippin’ night. And had been so tempted by the thought of them, the memory of them, that she’d almost said screw it to all her reasons for not pursuing the physical side of their relationship during these past—
“Mmm,” he hummed into her mouth. His breath was fresh and minty. Then, to her everlasting annoyance, he was breaking the suction of their lips and staring down at her, his eyes narrowed. “What…?”
He didn’t say anything more. Didn’t need to. Because her MO ever since those crazy two days surrounding the events of Cusco and Chicago had been to keep him at arm’s length. It had been difficult enough to harden her heart against his declarations of love and support, and she’d known it would have been hopeless to try to maintain her position once he took her to bed, once she allowed herself to revel in his arms, in his knowledgeable, soul-shaking lovemaking. So she’d implemented a no-nooky policy after she moved to Chicago and a no-dirty-talk policy during their daily—yeah, they’d eventually become daily—phone calls.
