Page 103 of Your Last First Kiss

“What does that mean, Lochlan?” she asks with a shaky voice.

He slides a piece of paper across the table. Penny and I look down at the same time. I know what it is. It takes her a few minutes to read it.

“I’d like you to run Apex. It won’t be as big as some of the other Bryer-Blaine properties, but it’s a branch into something new—something more family-friendly. If Apex works well here, we’ll look into expanding with you as an integral member of the team. I’m asking you to lead this endeavor, Penny.”

Penny shakes her head, but no sounds come from her mouth. I gently massage her back, trying to coax some words out of her.

“Lochlan, I don’t know the first thing about running a hotel. I’m your assistant. I do assistant-y things like make coffee and file paperwork.”

I open my mouth to dispute her utter lack of belief in herself, but Lochlan, not unkindly, holds up a hand to stop me.

“That’s not exactly true, and I think if you looked around the Bryer-Blaine you’d see why. You know how every piece of that hotel operates. You researched, you learned, you dove in headfirst to know my company better than most of my top-tier executives.”

“No, I learned what I had to do so if something went wrong, I knew the steps to fix it before I had to bring it to you.”

“Exactly. You’ve freed up so much of my time, and for that, I’m grateful. I also dread finding your replacement when the time comes, but that’s a different conversation. What I’m saying is, you know that hotel from the ground up. The Apex will be smaller, a starter hotel, if you will.” He smirks, but she doesn’t return any expression at all. In fact, Penny looks like she’s seconds away from throwing up.

Pressing on her shoulders with both hands, I guide her into the chair. “This is good news, Penny. Think about how nice it will be to just go across the street to work instead of taking a two-hour train ride?”

She turns her teary eyes on Lochlan. “I truly don’t think I’m qualified for this, Lochlan. I appreciate the opportunity, but I’m terrified I’ll mess it up.”

“That’s what life is all about, Penny.” Lochlan floats gracefully into the chair beside her. “Being scared and doing it anyway. This position will ensure you can comfortably provide for your boys on your own. You’ll be closer to home. And it will open a whole new world to you when they’ve left the nest. This is for your future as much as your present.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin,” she admits.

“I’d never throw you in without a life vest. I’ll work on this with you over the next few months, and when you’re ready, you’ll take over on your own. But this will also mean working very closely with these two idiots every day.”

Lochlan glares between Miller and me before returning his attention to Penny and lowering his voice. “Will you be able to work for the foreseeable future with Dillon by your side? I know things are…personal, and believe me, I’m happy for you. But if it doesn’t work out…”

She glances around the room and a low growl rumbles in my chest. “Y—Yes, I can work with them.”

My lips curl into a snarl as I glare at Lochlan. I’m baring my teeth like an actual wild animal, but I can’t control the fury taking over my body.

I know he’s looking out for her best interests, but I hate the stab of pain his words cause.

He may not believe I’m all in with Penny, but I’ll show him. I’ll show this entire damned town that Penny Mulligan was always meant to be mine.

In work, in life, and in love.

I actively work at relaxing my balled-up hands, but Eli notices and flashes a mischievous grin. “And on that note, take me back to the city, Loch,” she demands with an air of happiness that doesn’t quite sound real. “I’ll be back for the town meeting, but my job is pretty much done here. Do everything in those folders, and you’ve got this community in the bag.”

CHAPTER32

PENNY

Someone—probably Dillon—knocks right at six thirty. I’m still going over all the rules with Kai on the upstairs landing when Gage opens the front door.

“Gage!” I’m too tired to even voice my exasperation at this point, but I still hurry down the stairs. My youngest son has one speed: get it done and think about it later. “You cannot just open the door.” The words die on my lips when Dillon walks into the foyer.

His black peacoat hangs open, revealing a baby blue button-up with the top two buttons undone. He slides off his coat and hangs it over the staircase railing. The first thing I notice is that the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to look effortlessly casual, with a touch of businessman, but it’s the damned veins in his thick, muscular forearms that have me stumbling in the hall.

I reach them just as Dillon goes down on one knee in front of Gage. “Hey, pal. Thought your mom talked to you about opening the door for strangers?”

Gage laughs. “But you’re not a stranger, Dill Pickle.”

The corners of Dillon's eyes crinkle with a smile he's trying to hide as he watches my son. “But you didn’t know it was me. It could have been anyone.”

“It’s six thirty,” Gage whines. “You always come right at six thirty. I was watching the clock, and when it said 6-3-0, you knocked on the door. I knew it was you, Dewey.”