“Last night’s kiss was a mistake.” In fact, she bitterly regretted it already.
In the quiet that followed, Roy meowed twice.
“We’ll remain friends,” she said in a bracing tone. “I wish you a safe and successful deployment—”
“Penelope—”
“I’ll see you when you return.”
She’d wrapped up their phone call as quickly as possible.
He’d respected her wishes and refrained from reaching out to her while he was in Syria.
Penelope had moved on, her individuality and freedom intact. Frequently, she’d told herself she should feel fortunate to have escaped such a near miss.
As far as Theo and her friends were concerned, the kiss hadn’t happened because she’d never told any of them about it. Penelope herself often wished that it hadn’t happened. As it was, she remembered their kiss often. When falling asleep at night. When rolling out pie dough. When sitting across a dinner table from Cameron Kaplinsky.
And every time, the memory of it made her wayward heart beat faster.
Chapter Four
Madeline was screaming. Eli immediately registered both that fact and Penelope’s tight expression when he arrived at Theo’s house the next night around dinnertime.
“Any chance you can make this stop?” She motioned to the red-faced infant in her arms.
“I can try.” Eli stepped inside and set down the white paper sack full of food he’d brought. The moment he’d learned from Theo that his shift would follow Penelope’s this evening, he’d decided to buy dinner for Penelope and himself. He was hoping the meal would convince her to stick around long enough to talk.
Eagerly, she passed Madeline to him.
He held the furious child around the torso with both hands, studying her with sympathy. “Bad day?”
“Yes,” Penelope answered.
Madeline wailed.
He pressed Madeline against his shoulder, rocking slowly, trying to calm her while studying Penelope. She wore a navy-and-white-striped dress that looked like a long T-shirt. The plain white slip-on Vans she’d chosen meant she’d been feeling practical this morning. Her beachy hair was all over the place. Pink colored her cheeks beneath her tan.
This was the third time in three days that they’d come face-to-face. The power of her nearness hadn’t lessened. When he was within thirty feet of her, it was like he was incapable of concentrating on anythingbuther. Even crying babies. “Um.”Focus, Eli.“What usually works with Madeline in this scenario?”
“Swaddle, clean diaper, pacifier, or bottle. She got angry when I was giving her a bath a little while ago. I’ve tried all the usual approaches and none of them are working. I’m worried I’m doing something wrong.” She filled her cheeks with air, then pushed it out in a frazzled breath.
“If you had to guess, what would you say is the matter?”
“Madeline’s deep hatred of baths?”
“Any other ideas?”
“It’s possible that I might not have burped her as well as I should have the last time I gave her a bottle.”
Eli placed the heel of his hand at the base of Madeline’s spine, then pressed it up her back in careful circles. “This is my brother’s technique.”
“If this technique stops her crying, I shall be overwhelmed with admiration for your brother.”
He circled his hand up her back several more times without success. “Do you have a blanket nearby?”
He knelt on the living room rug while Penelope retrieved it. Without having to ask, she placed the blanket on the floor in the swaddling-ready position. He lowered the screaming girl onto it, then wrapped her securely.
Madeline’s eyes rounded with outrage. More bawling.
