Page 19 of Penn

“The unpacking can wait. I’d offer to wash the clothes for you, but I think you’ve had your fill of me doing things for you. Though I can. I lived without a woman prior to you moving in here, and I don’t just buy new clothes. My washer and dryer aren’t just props that came with the house.”

She smirks. “I suppose you did have to learn how to use the appliances.”

“I can not only use all of them, but I can fix them, too. Not to toot my own horn, but I’m kind of a catch.”

The smirk turns into a full smile as she ducks her head. “Yeah, I suppose you are.”

“But you don’t want me, so I guess you missed your chance.”

“What else am I missing out on?”

There’s a little bit of flirt in her tone, and I’m excited. “Oh, baby, the things you’re missing out on would make you blush. Turn red from head to toe. And I don’t think you’re ready to hear about all the fabulous things I can do.”

“You’re not normally the type to hold back on the raunchy details.”

“Maybe if you agree to get some rest, I’ll tell you,” I say, giving her my best seductive smile.

Just because she’s not quite ready to jump into my bed doesn’t mean I can’t entice her. To let her know what she’ll be getting should she wander into my room in the middle of the night.

“You’re bossy. Has anyone ever told you that?” Dixie asks.

“Once or twice,” I say. “Lie. Down.”

She walks to the bed and curls up on the bed, kicking her shoes to the floor. Her eyelids slowly open and close, and I know she’s tired. She’s just too damn stubborn to admit it.

I walk over and place a blanket over her, making sure her feet are covered as well as her shoulders. The look she gives me cuts me to the core. She’s waiting. Probably to hear what demand I have in return for the roof, the clothes, and even the blanket. I suspect she’s never been given anything without the expectation of something in return.

Well, I guess I’ll be her first.

“Why are you doing this, Penn?” she asks me again.

It’s a question that cuts me to the core and reinforces that she’s never met a genuinely kind gesture in her life. “Because I can.”

“Really? You bought me clothes. You’re letting me stay in your house. You’re dealing with the mess that is my life. I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful, but you don’t owe me anything.”

My hands fold in front of me, and I run my thumb over my knuckles. I could give her a simple answer. That it’s something that anyone would do. Any decent person would do. But she’s smarter than that. And she’s already suspicious as it is. She’s been used and hurt by people who showed her charity is a weapon to get something in return.

“I like you, Dixie,” I admit, keeping my voice steady. “I liked you the moment I saw you behind the bar, and I like you now. And besides that, it’s simple. A man who doesn’t support the mother of his child is no man at all. Your ex is a coward. He ran and tried to burn you down with your house. I’m not him.”

She swallows hard, her throat moving as she absorbs what I’ve just said. The blanket tucks tighter under her chin, and she looks at my boots. “It’s hard for me to trust that. It’s not really easy for me to trust people.”

“I figured.”

“My father…”

Her tongue slips out over her lips as she stops herself. She let on a little bit about her father being a cheater and hurting her mother, but she didn’t give specifics. It’s obvious her father’s ways hurt her, too, but in a different way. He took away the idolization of a father in her eyes at too young of an age. Made her see the harsh reality of the world before she needed to.

“Daddy was a cheater. He’d spend his evenings with other women before coming home to Mom, and she’d see the evidence. The cheap perfume and lipstick on his collar. And he’d lie. Even when he knew she knew, he’d lie. Make her think she was being crazy.”

It sounds like her father and the father of her baby are pretty similar. And if her father was as good at lying as her ex is, it’s understandable that she could spot these types easier than most. She grew up with this.

“One night, Mom had enough. He’d driven her insane, and she smelled the new neighbor’s perfume on him. She went to the garage, grabbed the gasoline can, then walked out and poured it in the woman’s convertible sitting in her driveway.”

My brows lift. This is not the story I was expecting. “That’s harsh. And kind of fucking awesome.”

“Daddy came running out, begging her to stop. But Mom just lit that match and tossed it onto the seats like it was nothing. The blank look in her eyes as she watched Daddy through the fire has never left me.”

“What happened?”