Something Wild (11 page)

But tonight, everything was different. Maybe because she felt as though she really knew him. Maybe because of the reminder that he was aware of her fantasies; no one else knew those secrets and it built a certain, unplanned intimacy between them. Maybe because throughout the day, they had talked, shared things, and she'd started feeling comfortable with him, and she'd thought that mattered. Maybe the physical attraction she felt toward him, even the irrational sense of infatuation, was beginning to be
more.

She sank into an easy chair and buried her head in her hands. An emotional attachment to this guy—a guy who worked for Martin—was the last thing she needed. Her insides twisted with knowing that when forced to make a choice between her and the job, he chose the latter.

And yet, what did she expect? Who was she to him? Nobody but a girl who had thrown herself into his lap in a dark car, ripped his clothes off and attacked him. How had she gotten herself into this mess?

Penny took a deep breath and rose to her feet. She wasn't going to think about this anymore; she couldn't right now. She had something more important to do, something which suddenly couldn't wait a moment longer.

She didn't know Martin's conference schedule, but she knew she wanted to get her loose ends with him tied up this very minute. At least then she'd feel a little less guilty. Things were messy enough without his proposal still hanging over her head.

He was staying at the Flamingo Hilton, so she called 411, got the number, and dialed furiously. "Martin Schuster's room please," she said to the nasal-sounding operator. As she waited, she walked with the cordless to the foyer and clumsily maneuvered back into her shorts, deciding the conversation would be easier without reminders that she'd just had her clothes off for someone else.

Settling on the couch, she tensed when the ringing abruptly ended, then took a deep, preparatory breath … only to hear a ridiculously pleasant-sounding female voice say, "The party you are trying to reach is unavailable. Please leave a message."

Martin, I'm sorry, but I just can't marry you.
Penny opened her mouth to speak, then let out a huge sigh and hung up, every ounce of boldness evaporating. Telling him on the phone was one thing, but leaving it on an answering machine just wasn't human, no matter how desperate she was for closure.

"Oh, would you just call me, you idiot!"

Staring at the phone in her hand, Penny tried to get hold of herself. Her entire body still tingled with crazed mixtures of excitement and disappointment and anticipation and failure. She felt her eyes growing wet, but refused to cry, and when a tear rolled down her cheek, she obstinately wiped it away. Everything inside her felt crazy.

Eat, you need to eat. It was late and her blood sugar was probably low.

As she moved to the kitchen, still feeling defiant, Penny decided she'd had enough pot roast for one week. Given the unusual circumstances of the evening—and of her life lately—she was going to throw all dietary caution to the wind and indulge herself.

Grabbing a tray from the pantry, she loaded it up with horrible, wonderful things. A plate of brownies. A tub of French vanilla ice cream. A dish of strawberries and an extra large bowl of whipped cream.

Now,
she told herself as she carried the tray to the bathroom,
calm down. Be good to yourself. Try to enjoy this. Try to feel like you again.
Normal Penny, who owned a business and behaved professionally at all times. Good Girl Penny, who didn't sleep with strangers. Pretty Penny, the Sweet One, the apple of her grandpa's eye. Yes, it would be good to get back on more familiar emotional ground.

The warm peach tones of the old-fashioned bathroom soothed her instantly as she balanced her tray on the rounded edge of the big claw-footed tub. That's why she'd chosen the color, to remind her of sunsets and seashells and the way the sun's warmth could lull you into total relaxation. Going to the old pedestal sink, Penny splashed cool water on her face, glad she'd conquered her tears, then poured a long stream of Sunny Peach bubble bath beneath warm running water. Finding a scrunchy, she knotted her hair in it, then scurried to the foyer to turn the radio back on. The same station from earlier still played slow soul. She didn't bother changing it, though, concentrating on the song's tranquil rhythm.

When the tub was almost full, she turned off the water, slipped out of her clothes, then stepped into the luxurious bubbles. Sinking into the suds, she leaned her head back and let the music sedate her. She occasionally reached for a strawberry or brownie, dipping it in either the softening ice cream or the smooth whipped cream before putting it in her mouth.

As the sudsy water caressed her skin, however, the rich foods somehow heightened her sensual awareness. The sensations hardly brought back Normal Penny, but instead seemed to invite the newer, more daring version of herself she'd so recently uncovered.

After eating her fill of the sweets, she stretched out in the tub, sinking deeper into the moist bubbles, and let her mind begin to wander. She thought about Ryan and the foyer, although she refused to dwell on the hurt that still lingered, so instead she found herself imagining the things that might have happened if the phone hadn't rung. She even imagined placing a sexy call to Ryan, using her feminine wiles to somehow lure him back.

Then other outrageous pictures entered her head, more fantasies, some she was familiar with already, others that were brand-new. Just envisioning them somehow made her feel unfettered, free. Admittedly, none of this was doing much to lower her level of frustration, yet she couldn't stop her mind from exploring all the stirring new possibilities that floated through her thoughts.

And then she gasped, bolting upright in the tub and sloshing water over the edge.

Was it possible? Could it be true?

All these fantasies, running rampant in her head… The sexy undies she always wore, even though no one usually saw them… And she'd seduced a man in a limousine. She'd done that, really made it happen.

And, oh, the positively
wicked
things she wanted to do to Ryan, if only he would let her.

A sharp tingle whisked through her body, traveling from the top of her head to the tips of her fingers and toes, and Penny knew without doubt it really
was
true. Everything inside her pointed to it, and she couldn't believe she'd been so blind for so long. She could only assume this was something that had been buried deep inside her for years, and it was finally fighting its way free. She bit her lip at the stunning revelation that she didn't know herself at all … that she really
wasn't
such a good girl.

* * *

Ryan stood peering into his refrigerator, wishing he saw something to eat. Instead, he found beer, soda, orange juice and margarine. He'd stayed so busy at work that he hadn't even gotten unpacked yet, much less found time to make a serious trip to the grocery store. Closing one door and opening another, he explored the freezer with a little more success. He'd grabbed a box of pizza rolls and some frozen garlic bread at a convenience store the other night when he'd stopped for drinks. Turning on the oven, he found a pizza pan and emptied the contents of both packages onto it. Not exactly pot roast, but all things considered, it would do.

While the food was in the oven, Ryan shed his suit and tie, changing into a pair of old gym shorts and a T-shirt. Moving back through the spacious yet bare-looking condo that didn't quite feel like home yet, he realized he actually felt more comfortable at Penny's house. He still hadn't unloaded most of his boxes, the cabinets were empty, the walls and tabletops, too, whereas at Penny's, everything was warm and tidy and inviting. But then he shook his head. Don't even go there. He'd been smart to leave, smart to put his job and his future first. Of course, being so smart had also left him feeling like a jerk, because he'd seen the pain in her eyes and he'd ignored it. Just walked away.

Grabbing a beer from the fridge, he popped the top and let out a sigh. He was an ass. For approaching her in the foyer like that, for letting his desires get the best of him, for running out on her like some kind of coward the moment he'd come to his senses.

It would've been so damn easy to stay, and he wished he was in bed with her right now, holding her afterward, talking, laughing—he hadn't been able to do any of that the first time. He loved Penny's laugh. And he loved the way she scrunched up her nose when something irritated her. Even her feet had been sexy. It was just a shame she hadn't turned out to be the simple girl he'd originally thought.

The way he'd wanted her tonight had nearly ripped him apart inside, and the unfulfilled ache still lingered between his legs. But just like last night, even as much as he regretted the reality of their situation, he'd known leaving was best. Even as that phone call had ruined something close to sheer perfection, it had also saved him.

Just then, he caught sight of the little red light blinking across the room. He was surprised to see he had a phone message, unsure who would be calling him. Unless it was Penny, and he doubted she even had his number. Or Martin, God forbid. He wasn't sure how he'd ever face his boss again, but at least he had a few more days before he had to. A few more days to try to get this whole thing with Penny into the past, where it wouldn't seem quite so overwhelming.

Taking a long swallow of beer, he crossed the ceramic tile and pressed the playback button. "Hello, Ryan, it's your mother." She always did that, always told him who she was, as if he wouldn't be able to tell. "Your father and I wanted to see if you're getting settled, but I guess you're not home. We'll talk to you soon."

According to the clock on the microwave, it was almost ten, so if he called back right now, he'd catch them before they went to bed. Not that he was particularly in the mood to chat with his parents. Oh, he loved them and knew they loved him, too, but he had enough on his mind already without having to hear the latest wonderful news about his older brother, which any conversation with his mom and dad was sure to produce.

Thinking about that old swing in the yard today had briefly reminded Ryan that, once upon a time, he and Dan had been close, but that was ancient history. Just like with his parents, he loved his brother, yet they'd grown apart. They were very different people and their lives had led them down opposite paths. Dan was the smart one, the selfless one, the settled one—the perfect son. He was everything two parents could hope for, and though Ryan didn't think his mom and dad intended for him to feel Dan was their favorite, he still did.

Taking another sip of beer, Ryan let that remind him just how much he didn't want to screw up again. He'd never been a bad kid, but it was hard living up to a brother like Dan. No matter what good things Ryan accomplished, it was the bad that seemed to stand out next to his brother's perfection. He could still hear the disappointment in his father's voice along with his mother's despairing sigh when he'd told them about losing his job at ComData. The worst part was that they hadn't sounded very surprised.

Grabbing the phone before he talked himself out of it, Ryan dialed the same phone number his family had had since he was a little boy.

"Hello?" His father's voice sounded gruff and scratchy, and it reminded Ryan how old they were getting.

"Hey, Dad, it's me."

"Ryan," he said in recognition. "Your mother called you earlier, but you weren't there. Here, I'll put her on."

Good old Dad, never much for small talk.

"Hello, Ryan," his mother said a few seconds later.

"Hey, Mom. Sorry to call so late, but I just got in."

"That's all right; Dan and Carol just left. We were helping them pick out songs for church this Sunday. Did you know Dan is leading the choir now?"

Figures.
"No. No, I didn't."

"Well, Miss Higgins has a bad hip and can't stand up that long anymore, so Dan volunteered to take over for her. And just in time, too, because the Summer Songfest is only two weeks away and the choir has to be ready."

Ryan found himself nodding into the phone even though he knew his mother couldn't see him. It was an old habit left over from when he'd lived at home, because he'd grown tired of saying, "Yeah," and "Uh-huh," when listening to constant news of Dan. His parents never seemed to notice his lack of response.

"Well, I won't keep you," Ryan said, "but I just wanted to let you know things are going fine here. The job is great and I really like the company."

"Are you eating?"

Ryan laughed. Worry over his eating habits was the one way his mother showered concern on him. If he was at home, she was plying him with food, and if he wasn't, she was lecturing him about it. "Not at the moment, Mom. But don't worry, I've got something in the oven right now and I'm keeping myself adequately fed."

"Junk food, I'll bet."

He spent another fleeting thought on Penny's pot roast and said, "Not all the time. Don't worry, I'm fine. And hey—" time to change the subject, he decided "—the condo is great. You guys should think about making a trip down here in the fall."

His mother stayed quiet. Predictably. It had been the same every time he'd invited them to Chicago, too. Finally, she said, "We'll see." Which really meant no. They only wanted to see him when he came home, when he was willing to revisit
their
life.

"Okay, Mom," he said, trying to sound resilient. "I'm kinda tired, though, so I'd better go."