Pen glances up at me. Her rounded cheeks are slightly flushed, and I know she’s preoccupied with the hand holding. This amuses me. Despite her shyness, Pen wouldn’t hold my hand if she didn’t want to. That much I know. The same way I know she’s nervous because some part of her must like this too. No, I’m not a mind reader, but I know her. A lot more than she realizes. It would never occur to Pen that I’ve made a study of her all of our lives. She’d probably faint dead away—right after insisting that it wasn’t true.
“Why are you smiling,” she asks, suspicious.
I give our linked hands a little swing. “Sun’s shining, weather’s perfect, and I got a pretty girl walking with me along the beach. What’s not to smile about?”
“You know, I had no idea you were such a smooth talker.”
“Should have talked to me more.”
Her lips purse with a wry expression. “I don’t think my teenage self could have taken it.”
“Sure you could’ve. I’ve recently been told I’m very charming.”
“I have regrets.”
A laugh bursts out of me, causing an elderly couple sitting on a bench to glance our way. The woman smiles indulgently as the man nods. Pen flushes a nice shade of rosy pink, then hurries us past as if we’ve been caught doing something naughty. Hell, I’d love to be caught doing something naughty with her.
I keep a straight face as we wind our way down the beachpath. A couple of people on bikes are out and a few joggers trot by. I’d be happy to walk for miles. Except for one thing... “You want to grab some lunch?”
“I just ate breakfast!”
“That was at least twenty minutes ago.”
“It amazes me how much food you can pack in and still look like that.”
I rub my belly; it’s beginning to grumble. “Like a god? Yes, yes, I know. But even gods need to be fed.”
Pen doesn’t appear impressed. “And here I thought March was the one with the overinflated ego.”
Again with March. Every time she mentions him, I get a swift kick in the balls from the little green man. I don’t want to be jealous of my brother. I don’t like the feeling. Unfortunately, when it comes to Pen and March, that ugly, petty emotion has a way of worming in.
“March absolutely has an overinflated ego,” I deadpan. “My ego, on the other hand, is within perfectly acceptable limits.”
“Sure.” She tugs my hand. “Let’s go to the Pier. I haven’t been there forever.”
“Uh,” is my witty reply. Looming above us in the distance is the massive pier with its Ferris wheel and roller coaster. The rides mainly appeal to families with kids, teens on the prowl, and young couples wanting to cuddle up for a small thrill. Lights and noise and fried food. I’m not against any of it in theory.
My step slows. “Thing is... I might be recognized. And I’m not saying that in a hopeful manner, by the way.”
Her expression is both soft and amused. “Or you might not.”
“Your roommate did.”
“She’s a football fan. Has season tickets.”
“I’ll get her a box seat. She can bring Edward.” I feel a moment’s glee picturing everyone’s reaction to that.
Happiness lights Pen’s gaze. “She’ll love you forever.”
“Obviously, my plan all along.”
“August. You’re dragging your feet.”
Am I? I glance down. Yep, not really moving forward. With a sigh, I adjust my hold on Pen’s hand and trudge forward. “I don’t have my hat.”
“It’s not the disguise you think it is, big guy.”
My free hand twitches with the urge to tug on a brim that isn’t there. “It’s a good disguise,” I mutter.
