“You look tired,” she says.
“Pfft, I look amazing,” Millie replies, but there’s no real resistance behind it.
The woman hums softly, unconvinced, before shrugging out of her coat and turning toward Jonas with a warmth that shifts the room’s atmosphere almost as effectively as the hug had.
“Well…” she says, reaching for his hands and enclosing them between both of hers, “… you’re still upright. That’s promising. Thought you might have keeled over by now, old man.”
Jonas laughs, making me jerk my head back in shock.I didn’t know he had a sense of humor.“Last time I checked, Penny, I am stronger than you,” Jonas replies, his mouth curving in the smallest suggestion of amusement.
She leans in to hug him, careful, her hold adjusted as if she’s aware of exactly how much he can take, and when she steps back, her gaze lingers, soft but searching, concern left unspoken.
“I dunno, dude, I reckon I could take you.” She asks, “How’s the appetite been?”
“Improving,” he replies, a kindness in his tone.
“Hmm…” The sound she makes is noncommittal but not confrontational.
I watch the scene play out in front of me in a kind of daze. I have only ever seen Jonas the hardass, and what I am watching in front of me is like seeing a version of him I never knew existed. The version that Millie always talks about.
The gentle giant.
Only then does Penny’s attention shift toward me. It isn’t abrupt, but it is deliberate. The kind of measured turn that suggests she’s been aware of me the entire time but chose not to engage until she was ready. Her gaze is direct without being aggressive, but rooted in observation rather than suspicion. “Andyoumust be Will,” she jabs.
Millie makes a soft, half-laughing sound that suggests this introduction has already been rehearsed in conversations I wasn’t part of.
“Penny,” she warns.
I push back my chair and stand, more aware than I’d normally allow that I’m being assessed by someone whose opinion carries weight in Millie’s world. “Nice to meet you.” I place my hand out for her to shake.
“Mm…” Penny says, like she’s filing that away for later consideration.
She doesn’t shake my hand.
The room settles again, but differently this time. It is as though another layer of history has just been added to the evening.
“So, you’re the famous biker,” she offers, her eyes moving over me in a slow, unapologetic inventory as she plants her hands on her hips.
Jonas’s mouth twitches.He’s enjoying this far more than he should.
“Last time I checked,” I reply.
The corner of Penny’s mouth lifts like she’s decided that answer was at least adequate.
“Millie talks about you, you know?”
“Penny!” Millie snaps, the warning precise and immediate.
“I’m just making conversation,” she says easily while heading for the kitchen to grab two wine glasses, then drops onto the sofa with the kind of relaxed confidence that comes from knowingthis house has always had a place for her in it. She pours herself a glass, lifts it, and takes a thoughtful sip, then looks back at me. “Are you always this… economical with words, or is this a special occasion?”
“He’s polite,” Millie says.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Penny replies without heat, pouring the other glass, I assume for Millie.
Jonas huffs a laugh into his glass.
I remain standing for a beat longer than necessary, then sit again, because something tells me she’d consider hovering an admission of weakness. “What exactly has she said?” I ask.
Millie groans softly. “Please don’t encourage her.”
