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Bash looked up and caught her eye, and she gave him a small wave. Like a total idiot, she thought as she carefully walked down the back steps. With her luck, she’d trip and land at his feet. He turned his attention back to the men as she approached. He looked good, really good in his khaki shorts, blue button-down shirt with the iconic polo player on the left breast, and loafers. Penny liked that he’d dressed up for their start of the season family dinner.
There were lighter streaks of caramel in his hair, most likely from spending as much time as he could on his rooftop patio. And Penny couldn’t blame him. He’d sent her photos of his view and the plants, and they’d had more than one video call with him sitting under an enormous umbrella. Bash had renovated a corner with artificial grass and a collection system underneath to deal with Tiny’s doggy-business. Penny hoped Tiny liked it and would appreciate Bash’s efforts when the dog moved to New York City with him at the end of the football season.
Until that afternoon, Penny had planned to play the evening cool and professional, but George had yakked up his latest meal on the denim capris and T-shirt she’d left on her bed. And if that hadn’t been bad enough, he’d called her a ninny and lectured her.
Maybe I should let him settle in first? Give him a chance to adjust to being back, she’d told George.
We’re not dealing with an altitude adjustment, but your attitude adjustment. He’d knocked over a perfume bottle. Gravity, he said as they’d watched it fall and bounce on the carpet. The lid stayed on, so Penny didn’t chastise him.
And just because he doesn’t say the words, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you.
Are you saying he’s a scaredy-cat? she’d asked as she studied her closet for inspiration. Her original outfit had been the perfect blend of summer casual meets indifference.
I hate that phrase. George jumped on the shelf in front of her. We’re highly sensitive and cautious.
Says the one-eyed cat who likes riding Maggie’s ceiling fan.
He’d huffed. Wear that blue thing. The one that doesn’t make you look like a librarian ready to retire. Penny had wanted to argue with him, but she couldn’t. She’d slowly rebuilt her wardrobe over the summer to better reflect her style, but there were still some lifeless pieces. She didn’t know when or why she’d chosen clothes that allowed her to blend into the background, but she’d suspected it was when she’d resigned herself to working at Get Lost and living in Cascade City. Why wear colorful clothing when your life is dull? Sparrow indeed, she’d thought, remembering Bash’s accusation that she hid her talents.
He’s a doer, not a talker. Stop hiding behind your broom and tell him.
There’s no broom, George, she said for the millionth time. Maggie had also insisted Bash was a doer not a talker. He cared, but it was anyone’s guess how much.
Please? He’d butted his head against her hand. Don’t you want to be happy like Maggie?
Yes, she did, which is why she’d planned a full assault but was ready to pull back at his first sign of hesitation. They’d grown closer during their time apart, and Bash seemed different, more comfortable in his own skin. Penny wanted to give them a second chance, but she was terrified of ruining what they had now.
She’d taken a crash course in reading body language from Google and memorized a few articles she’d found compliments of Cosmopolitan magazine. She’d optimistically bookmarked a couple’s quiz. Where her witchy skills failed her, Penny prayed her women’s intuition and newfound education had kicked in.
His eyes lit up behind his glasses as she approached. So far, so good. Penny wondered if he’d worn the new pair for her. He’d tormented her by asking for her help in choosing them. Thankfully, Bash hadn’t annoyed the sales consultant too much with his demands that Penny see every pair he tried when he’d called her from the store. Tiny’s tail wagged as she approached.
“She missed you,” Penny said, bending to rub the Great Dane’s soft, oversized ears, knowing Bash had a clear view of the red bra hiding underneath her Caribbean-blue sundress. His eyes widened and the corner of his full lips ticked up and Penny mentally high-fived herself for choosing the dress and selecting a bra in his favorite color.
“It’s nice to be missed,” he said as she stood. “Bold choice. I like it.” His bright blue eyes raked over her, and Penny bit back a grin.
“One of the shelter dogs had puppies and Nanna moved them here since it’s quieter. Would you like to see them?”
“I can’t say no to puppies. Is it safe for Tiny to come?” he asked.
“She spends most of her time watching over them, and I don’t think she’ll let you out of her sight for a while now that you’re back. Come on, girl. Let’s go check on the puppies.” Tiny barked and rose to her feet, leaving Bash and Penny to follow her as she ambled toward the barn.
Bash’s fingers brushed against Penny’s as they approached the chicken coop. Her fingers brushed his when they neared the sheep pen. Penny called to Mac and Beth, and they trotted over, eager for some petting. Tiny stood at the barn door and barked at them, as if telling them to hurry. Bash placed his hand on her lower back as she stepped through the threshold, but he didn’t remove it as they walked down the aisle. With each step, they drew closer to each other.
Tiny hung her head into the puppies’ pen. “She looks happy,” Bash said, taking Penny’s hand.
“She is.” Penny felt the heat crawl up her chest, hoping he thought she’d meant Tiny. “How’s the shoulder?” she asked. Bash raised a brow at her question. He’d kept her fully informed of its progress.
“Better, and now that I know about Maggie’s gift, I should make it through the season.” Maggie touching Bash was a necessary evil Penny would have to come to terms with if she wanted to maintain her sanity.
“Yeah, that’s her skill set, not mine.” She wondered who’d told him about Maggie. Does he know about Harper and Elspeth, too?
“What specifically is your skill set?” They’d never discussed her gifts since that disastrous morning in the kitchen. It was a black cloud hanging over them, but Penny had never brought it up, fearing the emotional storm it might cause.
“I’m usually good at moving things—”
“Like rocks? The path is beautiful, by the way. Barbara dragged me out to see it.”
“Yes, rocks, and other things. I can do light protections like keeping the apartment free from dust or making sure birds don’t poop on my car if I park under a tree. I’m also good at knowing what people want and what makes them happy.”
