I was probably making things worse in my head than they really were. Ruminating and obsessing wouldn’t get me answers. Forcing my head back to work, I dealt with the issue at hand.

  After attending to the fire behind the grocery store, I headed back to the firehouse to complete my duties there and get cleaned up. By the time I was free, I knew Penny’s place was closed since Simply Sweet was only open until four in the afternoon, Monday through Friday.

  It wasn’t quite dinnertime yet, so I guessed she probably hadn’t eaten. I grabbed some takeout from Ella’s Eats before I headed to Penny’s apartment above her bakery. At five, I knocked on her exterior door, shivering slightly at the stiff breeze blowing across her exposed stairway. I knew from inspections that she had an interior stairway from the bakery up to her place, which was probably how she came to and from the business.

  A few moments after I knocked, she swung open the door.

  “You answered.” My gaze took her in, from her jeans and cropped pink sweater down to her bare feet with purple-painted toenails.

  “Well, you kind of threatened to break in if I didn’t,” she sniped.

  I had done that, and I didn’t feel a bit of remorse over it, either.

  “I brought dinner.” I lifted my peace offering. “Ready to talk?”

  “No.” But she still stepped aside to let me inside. “What’s it going to take to make you understand, Jory? We’re not going to date.”

  “The truth?” If I’d just met her, demanding that might be pushing too much. But I hadn’t. We’d been doing this cat and mouse dance since she moved here two years ago. Enough was enough.

  She wanted me to move on? That was impossible. I wasn’t some crazy guy. I was hers. She was mine. And deep down, she knew it, just like I did. At least, I told myself that when I went to my lonely cottage over at the Sander’s Lodge, near where I worked my primary job at Elvin’s Workshop.

  She grimaced at me. “You can’t handle the truth.”

  “Okay, whatever you say, Jack.” I smirked at her A Few Good Men movie reference, wondering if it had been on purpose or actually the truth.

  Penny rolled her eyes. “What did you get from Ella’s?”

  “Your favorite.”

  “You don’t know my favorite,” she countered.

  “Ella does, though.” So did I, but I was playing it cool. Cooler than usual, anyway. Because me and being chill about Penny? Yeah, those things didn’t go together.

  She took the bag then peered inside, spying the veggie burger and fries through the clear-topped container, and gave me an annoyed look. It wasn’t her favorite?

  “Fine. Ten points for Hufflepuff.”

  “Hufflepuff? Seriously?”

  “Yes, seriously. Kind. Understands the importance of food. Loyal. Hardworking. A bit too nice… You’re clearly Hufflepuff.”

  “Hmm. I wouldn’t have guessed that.” I wasn’t sure I liked being characterized as something akin to Winnie the Pooh.

  “That’s because everyone wants to be a Gryffindor or a Slytherin.”

  I hadn’t actually thought of myself as anything Harry Potter related, to tell the truth. I knew the basics of the world, but I didn’t think too deeply on it. “And you are?”

  “Slytherin, of course. Resourceful, determined, full of self-preservation.” She blinked at me. “I like to bite.”

  That made things stir inside me, and I swallowed hard, fruitlessly willing away my reaction. Penny could bite me anywhere she wanted.

  “We should eat before the food gets cold.” That was the last thing I wanted to do, and it took everything in me not to offer something more suggestive. I doubted that would get me far with her, though. What it would get me was out the door. Even though she’d been the one to bring up biting.

  Penny grinned, knowing she’d won that round. Incorrigible. It was one of the many reasons I wanted her.

  I took the bag back from her and carried it, along with the tray of drinks I still held, over to the dinette table situated to the side of her kitchen. Sorting everything, I placed her container and cup near her. “So tell me, Ms. Resourceful… What can I not handle? Are you running from the law?”

  She sank into her chair. “You can’t guess?”

  I sagged back against the chair I’d taken, studying her. Was she really going to tell me? I had a feeling she would, and it might be something I hadn’t speculated. “Are you running from a boyfriend? A husband?”

  She regarded me for a long moment, as if deciding whether or not to trust me. Whether or not I could indeed handle the truth.

  “I guess you could call me a runaway bride. Sort of. Not that I ever really wanted to marry the guy. I certainly never got close to a church or I Do’s before I left town. Then I landed here, and no one knows where I am.”

  I reached for her hand, staring. “Back up. You didn’t want to marry the guy?”

  “I shouldn’t be telling you this.”

  “Too late. Tell me,” I growled. I couldn’t help it. Everything I’d been repressing screamed at me to throw her over my shoulder and run for the hills. I could be a mountain man and provide for us with my hands while we lived far away from the known world.

  I was about to lose it as she studied me, her eyes working, calculating, as her lips staying obstinately closed.

  “Did you love him and just get cold feet?” I finally asked. If she was in love with this other guy…

  “No,” she half-laughed, shaking her head. “No. My parents arranged it. It was a business transaction. One I didn’t have much say in. Or any say, to tell the truth. They were convinced it would be a good alliance. That happens in families like ours a lot. Arranged marriages for business purposes. Darian—that’s my…uh, the guy I was supposed to marry—I didn’t really know him. But he was as invested in the union as everyone else, I guess.”

  “Jesus, Pen,” I breathed.

  “It was all about money. His family is powerful and wealthy. And he was…nice, but there wasn’t even the slightest little spark when I was forced to be near him. I couldn’t imagine sleeping with him, spending the next however many years we were married, pretending to be a good little wife and producing an heir.” She closed her eyes and huffed a weary breath. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this. I shouldn’t be.”

  “You should. Damn it, you should have told me sooner.” I knew I sounded ultra-possessive and demanding, but the whole situation roused desperate feelings inside me. Penny was mine, and I could have lost her before I’d even met her. The feeling rising inside me… What were the chances I’d reached my breaking point now? And I knew what to do.

  “I’m sorry. I just—” She sighed.

  “Marry me.” I calmly opened my dinner container. Like her, I had a veggie burger and fries. Poking my straw into my cup, I waited for her response. I already knew she’d say no, but this was it. This was where she learned my intentions, and I started playing harder for what I wanted.

  Today was Monday. By Friday, she’d be legally mine.

  She shook her head. “You’re being ridiculous.”

  “No, I’m not. Who knows you’re here?”

  Sadness filled her eyes. “No one,” she whispered. “My grandpa… He’s the one who arranged for me to come to Sweetville. The man was on his deathbed. Still, he arranged everything and even funded my escape and gave me most of his fortune. Everything, aside from the businesses and his home, came to me at his death. Which probably infuriated my family, so they’re probably looking for me and the money. But if I know him, he had layers and layers of red tape hiding me. They know the cash went to someone, but they don’t know who. Probably.”

  “And you’ve been running from me because you think I’d be after your money?”

  “No,” she said in disbelief.

  “Because of this guy…?”

  “Sort of. It’s him and it’s my family. My whole life, everyone’s made decisions for me. Even my grandpa, though he was the one to finally set me free.”

  “Are you free?” I asked. It was dirty pool and I knew it. “Are you hiding from what you want from life? From intimate relationships with people? Are you so sure your family isn’t searching for you? Is Penny Carmichael even your name?”

  “They might be looking for me,” she conceded, ignoring what I’d said before that. “And no. My name was Penelope Fairbanks. Only my grandpa ever called me Penny. To everyone else I was Penelope…and I quite hated it. My name’s been legally changed to Carmichael, though. Again, buried deep by his lawyers.”

  I picked up a fry, not looking at her while I spoke my next words and trying to appear utterly nonchalant while panic tore at the edges of my forced calm. “But there’s no guarantee they haven’t found that out. They might have already; they might be making plans or even be ready to head here. If you marry me, it would add another layer to your hidden identity and make it harder. It would protect you from being forced to marry this cold fish. Think about it.”

  Chapter Three

  ~ Penny ~

  “I could just leave.”

  Jory pointed at my food. “Eat before it gets cold.”

  How could I eat when he’d thrown these scenarios into the mix? That I could be found. I knew that, but him saying it aloud made it more real. And I’d never had much of a backbone against my parents. I’d been growing stronger since being out from under their influence, but I wasn’t ready to test it. I never wanted to.

  And this whole marriage offer? I wasn’t even sure what to think about that. Part of me leapt at the idea. I really like Jory. But…that would mean the end of my cherished freedom, wouldn’t it?

  “If you run, I’ll run with you,” he said after I’d been silent for too long.

  “No, Jory.”

  “Yes, sweetness. Where you go, I go from now on. No more running.”

  “We’re not even together. You don’t even know me.”

  “Don’t I? We’ve been there for each other for two years. I’ve brought you lunch, and I’ve come to see you every morning before I work, even though I can walk to Elvin’s shop in under two minutes. Yet it takes me ten minutes to get here, but where am I every day?”

  “You like the cinnamon rolls.”

  “I like you more. I’m always at your side at every community event,” he added. “I’ve brought you things I make at Elvin’s.”

  The warmth that burst inside me scared me. Holy crap, he’d been dating me without actually dating me. Without me realizing it, anyway.

  “Jory,” I whispered. “I can’t…”

  He stayed silent at that, though he did suck in a deep breath. “You can. You care about me.”

  “Of course, I do.”

  “Marry me.”

  “Jory…” I groaned. Damn, the man was persistent when he got an idea.

  “I’m serious. Look, I don’t want whatever you have. I’d even do a prenup if that makes you feel more secure. You know my family has money—”

  “No…actually, I didn’t.” The idea made me uncomfortable to tell the truth. I’d rather liked that he was a working guy with no trust fund.

  I mentally rolled my eyes at myself. Not that it mattered whether he was rich or not. What was I even thinking? I wasn’t marrying Jory.

  “Well, they do. So look,” he started again. “I have no interest in what you have in your bank account. I only want you. But the thing is…marrying me will give you another layer of identity protection. Chances are, they don’t know your new name. But this would make it even harder for them to manipulate you.”

  “You know, I never cared about the money. I loved my grandpa, and otherwise, I just liked my culinary classes. I’m pretty sure my parents didn’t even know about them. They weren’t exactly hands on. Beyond that, I was just arm candy for Darian.” I shrugged. “Can you believe that? Me? Arm candy? I guess I clean up okay, when I don’t have flour in my hair and dough under my nails.”

  Shaking my head, I focused on my dinner. Neither of us spoke for a long while as we ate, though my favorite meal tasted like sawdust to me this evening. Still, I enjoyed spending time with Jory. Deep down, I was glad to have my secret off my chest, too, even if only a little. I didn’t think he’d go spewing it to other people. I trusted him.

  I couldn’t date him—or marry him, for God’s sake—but I did trust him. Had I thought I didn’t trust men? Tonight, I realized Jory was different somehow. Maybe, I’d known all along but refused to acknowledge it.

  He wiped his mouth as he finished his meal then wadded up his napkin and tossed it into his container before closing it.

  “I think you’re beautiful all the time,” he said into the silence. “Especially when you have flour all over you. And when you’re falling into my arms, my Penny from Heaven.”

  I groaned. That again.

  “You are,” he insisted. “You’re a Sweetville treasure.”

  “It’s the donuts.”

  “Whatever you say.” His tone called me a liar.

  I closed my box then stood to get rid of the trash. “Now that you’ve learned all my secrets, you want to watch a movie or TV or something?”

  He stood and stepped close to me, and his fingers threaded through my hair. He’d never been this near to me and my heart took off in my chest. I wasn’t afraid of him. Quite the opposite. His nearness brought to life all the reactions I lied about, saying I didn’t have them.

  Right then, I thought he might kiss me as he closed even more space between us. Instead, his eyes shut, and he tipped his forehead to mine.

  I just stood there, absorbing his presence, soaking it up as tears pricked my eyes. I’d longed for this familiarity, this intimacy, for so long. Could I cave? Could I let Jory be here for me? Be my man?

  Unable to take it, I shut my eyes, just feeling this moment. For once, not fighting it.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” he whispered.

  “What question?” I whispered back.

  “Marry me.”

  “Jory, I—”

  “We can have separate rooms. I won’t push you into anything you’re not ready for, but you have to know, marrying you has always been the end game here.”

  I wanted to say yes. I wanted it more than anything. But even as it dangled like a tantalizing prize before me, the reality of losing my newfound self and my freedom took hold and pulled me away from him.

  He didn’t open his eyes as he grimaced.

  I could not cave. I would not cave.

  “How about watching Supernatural?” I asked, walking toward my living room. After a moment, I heard him follow me.

  “Never seen it.”

  I spun to stare at him. My shock was lost on him as he looked around my place. It wasn’t much, though I’d added homey touches. I just didn’t do a lot of…things. Clutter. When it came to belongings, I put my energy into the bakery.

  “I could never marry a man who hasn’t seen it.”

  Jory plopped down on the couch. “Cue it up. I’m ready for a marathon.”

  Of course, he was. My snort was loud, unladylike, and my parents would be scandalized. And that made me smile even wider.

  Not even sure why I was indulging this, other than I really did enjoy Jory, I opened Vudu and found the first season of the show in my collection.

  “Get ready to have your life changed…”

  Chapter Four

  ~ Penny ~

  “Is this Groundhog Day?” I asked. So far, today had been a repeat of yesterday. Jory was here, watching me while he drank his coffee after my morning rush. Of course, that was actually no different than any other time.

  Today, he looked a little tired though. Probably because we’d watched about four episodes of the TV show before I’d kicked him out so we could both get some sleep. I didn’t know what time he had to be up, but I had to be to the bakery at four-thirty in the morning. When I thought about it, I had to admit, last night had felt a lot like a date. A really good date. Not that I had much experience with them.

  Jory stood, leaving his table, and headed over to the counter. I couldn’t help admiring his trim form, tall with compact muscle. Blue eyes locked on me. We were alone again, and I knew he timed his visits to coincide with my lull in business every day.

  “If it is Groundhog Day, then I’ve been stuck in the same cycle for two years,” he said. “Until last night, so I’m thinking it’s not. Did you consider my question?”

  Had I thought about his nonchalant suggestion that I should marry him? It had barely left my mind since he’d spoken it.

  “Nope.”

  “Liar,” he accused with a chuckle. “After work today, I’ll come by and pick you up. We can go over to Hoover City and have dinner, then maybe go ring shopping.”

  I groaned, rolling my eyes. “Jory…”

  “Sweetness.”

  I just shook my head, while he grinned.

  “It’s happening. You know you want it,” he added, and I wondered if he meant the outing tonight or getting married. I had a feeling both applied. And why wasn’t I freaking the hell out and coming up with an evasion plan? Because I wanted more nights like last night. Maybe, it would seem like nothing to some people. Boring. But to me, the time spent with him, having a meal and just vegging together, chatting about what we were watching, talking about other things… It had been perfect.

  Before I could refute his words, my friend and employee, Lyric, came out of the kitchen with a batch of cookies. “How’s everything back there? Need some help before the next wave of customers?”

  I routinely did a great deal of the baking and prepping the day before and in the mornings, so it wasn’t as if she were on her own back there, making everything from scratch. But the upswell of business was making me think I might need to hire another person soon.

  The bakery’s growth filled me with pride. We were the only one in town, but Hoover City was close enough people could order their cakes and sweets from there. Ella’s Eats served pastries on their breakfast menu. Albeit, they got them from me now, which was another business boost. Still, I never took our success for granted, thinking we had a so called “captive audience” because we were the only show in town.