Page 18 of Penn

“One job?”

“Growing that human inside you. Let me worry about the rest of it. That’s what I’m here for, and it’s something I can do to help.”

I have to know. It doesn’t make sense, and I need to understand what I’m walking into. “Why are you doing this?”

“Excuse me?”

“You barely know me. I’m just the girl who pours your drinks and turns you down when you flirt with me. Why do you care so much?”

He’s quiet for a long moment, and his thumbs rub unconsciously along my thigh, sending little jolts of electricity between my legs. For a second, I think he might decide I’m right and pull away. Get me set up at the motel and grab some thrift store items for me while I figure out the rest.

“Because you deserve to be safe. And because I can. It’s really as simple as that.”

Standing up, he pulls me gently to my feet. I feel a little stronger now, but I still don’t fully understand what’s going on. “I’ll pay you back.”

“We’ll see about that. Now, I saw you eyeing up those maternity dresses. Should we start in there? You’re going to need something to grow into. Might as well get a few things now to have on hand.”

If I wasn’t pregnant, I’d be overly offended. But he’s right. I’m only going to grow outward, and I need something that fits me when it happens. “I don’t know if I’m a flower gal.”

“I think you might be surprised,” he says with a smirk. “Let’s go see what they have. We can always come back for more when we need it.”

We. We can come back. When we need it.

This is how I expected Stephen to react, not Penn.

It’s not even his baby, but he cares more than the real father. What does that say about Stephen?

And Penn?

Chapter 8

Penn

The handles of the shopping bags bite into my fingers as I carry them inside the house. I hadn’t expected them to be this heavy, but there could have been more. Except Dixie fought me tooth and nail every time I told her to buy something.

I’ve never encountered a woman more intent on resisting being spoiled. Every other woman I’ve met would love to have my credit card to max out, and many other women would hit that high limit. But not Dixie. She constantly tried to find cheaper alternatives, and it wasn’t until I forced the saleswoman to hide them behind the counter to ring up while I distracted Dixie that we actually got everything she needed.

She walks in behind me with her shoulders hunched. She looks small. Like a gust of wind could knock her flat. But even though she looks a bit fragile, her eyes are heavily guarded. They have been since she realized I’d been buying things she’d turned down because of cost.

The exhaustion of being on her feet all day is obvious in the bags beneath her eyes and heavy lids. I doubt she got real sleep last night, and she needs to rest.

“You can put them on the table. I’ll carry them to the guest room,” Dixie says.

“I can carry them to your room.”

She bristles as I continue walking to her room. I’m determined to make her realize that this isn’t a temporary thing for me. This is her room. Until the night she decides she wants to share mine. Which I hope comes before she’s too embarrassed to be naked in front of me.

“I can carry my own things, Penn. You don’t need to do everything.”

I set them on the floor in front of the closet and give her a smirk. “Oh, but I do. Why don’t you lie down and take a nap?”

“I’m not an invalid,” she snaps at me.

Her arms cross over her chest, and she looks around like she’s trying to figure out where she fits. Even though I’ve told her multiple times now that I’m more than happy to have her here, I can see the resistance coming stronger and stronger with each passing minute.

“I know you’re not an invalid,” I say, “but you’re exhausted. Your body is running on empty, and you’ve got a kid to think about. Lie down. Please?”

“I have to unpack,” she says, reaching into the bags to pull out the clothes. “I need to wash these, and I can’t just sit around and do nothing. That’s not how I’m wired.”