Page 16 of Insatiable Bachelor (Bachelor Tower 1)
“Sorry,” she says, sitting more upright suddenly. “I forgot you are you. This is like doing advanced calculus with a kindergartener. I’m good; forget I brought it up.”
“You’re really going to let me off the hook like that?” I ask, eyeing her doubtfully.
“You don’t know what to say in these moments. I totally get it.”
“I know what to say.” The damn part of my ego that hates to be one-upped or wrong rears its head. “You want to hear that everything is going to be all right. You want me to stroke your hair and let you know no matter what happens with your dad he’ll be fine because he has your love.”
She looks at me with wide-eyed astonishment. “You’ve been holding out on me.”
“I’m smart enough to know what women want to hear, but wise enough to know it’s counterproductive to be the one to say it to them. There are plenty of guys out there willing to do that junk even when it means getting walked all over. It’s bad advice anyway. Your dad needs a plan. Let me look at his business this morning. I’m sure I can get him on the right track pretty fast.”
“You don’t need to do that.” Her cheeks turn pink. “I know you’ve been working very hard trying not to be nice. I don’t want to ruin that for you.”
Damn, even her insults make me smile. “I’m no one’s hero, and I’m no one’s sucker. That doesn’t mean I have to be an asshole all the time.”
“You’re not as bad as you think you are,” she says, that wash of unwanted sympathy coming my way again. “I wish you could see that.”
“Don’t waste your time.” I shrug, not wavering a bit. “I’m exactly the right amount of nice that people deserve. It doesn’t matter, though. Nice. Cruel. People stick around for precisely as long as it is beneficial for them to do so.”
“So it’s not really that you want to be alone,” Penny says, pointing an accusing finger at me as though she’s yanked free one of my many layers. “You’re worried about them leaving, so you make sure you’re the first one to go. Not everyone leaves though, Dalton. Some of us stick around.”
“Easy, Tiger.” She may be quick to suspend reality, but I’m not. “This is a temporary living situation until your sister comes back to town. You’ll soon be gone.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth I regret them, not because they’re not true, but because I realize I don’t want them to be.
“We don’t have to be neighbors for me to care about you. You don’t have to push me away.”
“No?” I ask, feeling an unfamiliar prickly sensation roll up my spine. I feel I’m being outplayed in a game of chess. Any minute she’s going to call checkmate on me.
“All I’m saying is that no one can prove your theory wrong if you don’t give them a chance to.”
I slide a hand beneath her long hair and rest it on the warm skin of her neck. Her optimism pulls at my jaded side. I could make my case about how humanity at its core has always been self-serving. I could reference how quickly kindness and civility falls away during times of supply shortages—due to natural disasters or the economy. I don’t want to. I like that she doesn’t see the world as I do. I hope no one ever takes the sparkle from her eyes. “Everything with your dad is going to be all right,” I say with forced positivity. Yeah, I’m falling fast. “It’ll all be fine.”
“You’re a terrible actor,” she groans but leans into my touch. “I can tell you’re faking.”
Changing gears, I shoot her my sexiest smile. “I can promise, of the two of us, you’ll never have to fake anything.” I lean closer to her.
She flushes but checks her watch as though she’s clocking a race. “Nine minutes. You went nine minutes without referencing sex. That’s a big deal.”
“I’ll show you a big deal,” I say, waggling my eyebrows as I point at my rock-hard cock.
Her gaze drops to my groin. If she was wondering where my thoughts were wandering to while we’ve been talking, the evidence is right there for her to see.
Her eyes whip back to mine, and I realize I’m holding my breath. There’s a seriousness to her that makes me wish I could take my crude joke back. She’s better than that.
She opens her mouth, and I can see the yes forming on her lips. My brain starts to scramble. If she gives me the green light, fuck work.
“Would you really come with me to see my father?” she asks, and I do a mental double take.
It’s a boner killer, but I’m oddly not disappointed.
My answer is the same. I take out my phone and clear my morning meetings.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Dalton
On the way to her father’s place, Penny looks more and more uncomfortable. “My dad is really weird.” I’m surprised she’s so concerned what I’ll think of him. “Like really quirky. Most people don’t get his humor. I’m just warning you now.”
“I’ve been warned,” I say flatly, not worried at all about it. I can deal with anyone. I have a hard time, though, believing the man who raised Penny is all that bad.
“He’s a good man who was shaped by a very hard thing that happened.”
“What happened?”
“His sister, Julie, died of cancer when she was in her early thirties. I’m sad to say I hardly remember her. But the parts I do remember shine in my mind.”
“Your dad was close with her?”
“They were best friends. Before she got sick she was living her life to the fullest. Every second. She would get a job, then quit it every summer so she could spend time with her kids. Julie was the last person in the world whose life should have been cut short. There were a million things she’d have accomplished if she had lived. When I’m feeling off-center I take flowers to her grave and talk until I find my way.”
I nod as though that makes sense to me, but the idea of talking to a headstone to make myself feel better seems strange. So instead I just wait for her to go on.
“My father was devastated. Her passing sent him into overdrive. It was no longer about money. Success meant minutes spent doing something that put good energy into the universe. My mother was already leaning the other way. She was climbing the corporate ladder. She was making more money than he was. It ended up being enough to split them up. My mother was the last thread holding my father to social norms.”
“She left him for being a philanthropist?”
“No.” She turns to look out the window. “She left him because he took all their savings and bought goats for a village in Africa. He sold off their furniture and turned the proceeds into a makeshift food pantry for the poor in our tool shed.”
“Damn.”
“When I was little, I thought my dad was a saint and my mother was a demon. Didn’t she want to feed the poor? Didn’t she care about her fellow men? What I realized as I got older was my mother wasn’t a monster, she just wanted to make sure we were taken care of too. But I’m gushing now. I just wanted you to have some context. My father is a good man. He just misses his sister and wants to honor the life she didn’t get to have. I don’t want you to be blindsided.”
“I’m good, Penny. I deal with people all day. Business is business. Don’t stress about it.”
“Oh, and my father is king of dad jokes. Don’t ever tell him you’re hungry. He can’t help himself, he’ll say ‘Hi, Hungry. I’m Ziggy.’”
“Your dad’s name is Ziggy?”
“No.” She turns back with a groan. “But that’s what he goes by. You’ll see. I can’t really prepare you any more. You’ll have to see it for yourself.”
“Get off my property, you crazy kids,” a man with straggly long hair and a tie-dye bandana says. He’s missing a few teeth and has a couple extra earrings lining his ears. His whiskers are long and unkempt, but his eyes beam as bright as Penny’s.
“That joke never gets old, Dad,” Penny says like an annoyed teenager. That melts away when he opens his arms wide to her, and they hug as though they haven’t seen each other in years. I know she was just here, so it makes me wonder if they do th
is every time. I haven’t hugged my father since I was old enough to know I didn’t want to.
“Who is this dapper gentleman?” Ziggy asks, slapping his leathery hands against my shoulder. “Man, feel that material.” He’s pinching at the sleeve of my suit and making an impressed-looking face at Penny. “You need a job?”
“No, sir,” I answer flatly. “My name is Dalton Croft I’m a frie—” The word catches in my throat just in time. “I know Penny. She mentioned you were having some trouble, and I offered to help. I’ve been running my own business for a decade. It’s become one of the largest companies in its field. I’m sure I could give you some tips.”
A look passes between Penny and Ziggy that I can’t read. I do understand it’s not undying gratitude.
“It’s worth a shot, Dad,” Penny says, looping her arm in his and walking into the small cement building. It was, at one time, painted white, but now it’s mostly gray cinder block with chipped paint. The windows are small and cracked. If there wasn’t a sign on the door that said Ziggy’s Employment Emporium I would think we were walking into a condemned, forgotten building.
