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."
They said their goodbyes and Ryan hung up, feeling as hollow as such conversations usually left him. Oh well, at least the call was out of the way now.
Sniffing the air, Ryan caught a whiff of something hot … burning! Plunking his beer can on the counter, he dashed to the stove and yanked open the oven door.
Damn. Nothing like crunchy pizza rolls.
Fumbling for a pot holder, thankful he'd even remembered to use one the way his night was going, he rescued the pan from the oven and decided the garlic bread didn't look like a total washout, only a little brown around the edges.
He didn't bother hunting for a plate, just took the whole pan to the table, lowering it to a woven place mat, then grabbed his beer and sat down. He'd planned on doing some work on Penny's system tonight, but as he popped the first crisp pizza roll into his mouth, he decided he really was too tired; he was going to go to bed and get some rest.
And he was going to wake up with a new attitude, he vowed. No more messing around, no more taking chances, no more wild women, no more anything that could ruin his life in any way. He might resent his parents, but he still couldn't help wanting, wishing, to make them proud.