Penelope happily obliged as Grace topped off all their glasses. She was more of a beer girl, but hey, it was Friday and a fancy dinner party, and well, she was having fun.

The only time Penelope ever got to indulge in girl talk was with Janie, but her sister wasn’t here….

“I don’t think I’m over the guy I left in Chicago,” she blurted out.

Riley leaned forward. “Was he a bad kisser? Is he why you’re all anti-kissing? Because I’d move to another state if Sam was a bad kisser. Hell, I’d leave the continent.”

Penelope smiled sadly. “No. I mean…I don’t know. We never, um…my feelings were one-sided.”

“Oh, well, honey, if you’ve got feelings for a guy, you have to tell him!” Julie said.

“I planned to,” Penelope said, taking a sip of wine. “I mean, like, I actually had a plan. I made dinner reservations, I bought a dress. It was red….”

Riley whistled. “Red dress, huh? Busting out all the stops.”

“Exactly,” Penelope said. She looked down at her glass.

And then I found out he stole my job and had been shacking up with a flight attendant for the past six months….

To the other women’s credit, nobody pried. They sat there silently, waiting for her to continue, and she knew that if she didn’t say another word, they’d change the subject.

But it was time to tell somebody—it was time to move on.

She went for it. “He took the job that I wanted. I don’t know if he meant to, but he did. But that’s not even the worst part. Before he could tell me any of this, I’d decided to make my move. I got brave. Or stupid. I’m not sure which, but…I kissed him.”

Penelope took a deep breath before continuing. “Needless to say, he didn’t kiss me back. Not when he was waiting to introduce me to his new girlfriend, who saw the whole humiliating thing go down….”

She put a hand over her eyes for just a moment, reliving the moment. “The worst part was, I’d really thought he liked me. That he’d been in love with me too. But now I think maybe he was just keeping me close to use me for the job thing.”

“The bastard,” Julie breathed.

Penelope smiled ruefully. “Exactly. So why can’t I stop thinking about him?”

“The heart needs time to heal,” Emma said quietly.

“Totally. Like seven years, hmm, Em?” Riley asked.

Penelope looked between the two of them. “Seven years?”

Emma hesitated. “Me and Cassidy…we once, eh…I’ll fill you in some other time. Tonight is about you. Where do things stand with you and this guy now?”

Penelope lifted a shoulder. “He texts sometimes. Still wants to be friends, tries to keep things friendly. And maybe someday I’ll want that but I just…I had to get away, you know?”

“New York is your fresh start,” Grace said, after studying Penelope’s face.

“That,” Penelope agreed, “and also maybe a little bit of running away.”

“Which you were right to do,” Julie said, jabbing her finger at Penelope’s knee. “Like Emma said, the wound needs to heal.”

“That’s the idea,” Penelope said with a shrug. “A new city was my first step. The new job was my second.”

“And a new man is the third,” Riley said.

“Well…no, not exactly,” Penelope said with a little frown. “I don’t want to rush into anything.”

“Well, of course not. I’m not saying get your heart all tangled up in things. That sucker needs to patch itself up with some time. But that doesn’t mean you can’t distract yourself from this…what’s the guy’s name?”

“Evan.”

“Okay, no more Evan. Also, no more putting yourself down, acting like you’re not worthy of male attention. You’re freaking adorable.”

“You are,” Julie agreed. “I can think of about a dozen guys who would eat you up.”

“In the nondirty way,” Grace rushed to clarify.

“But the dirty way is the best kind,” Riley said, sounding confused.

“Regardless,” Emma said, “we don’t need a dozen guys to get your mind off this Evan.”

“Nope, just one will do,” Julie said.

“Okay, but I don’t know that Lincoln—”

“No, not Lincoln,” Julie said. “If the kiss was merely nice, he won’t do.”

“Then who—”

The guys chose that moment to barge back into the apartment, and judging from their talk about medium-rare, Grace was dead-on about their discussing steak.

The men froze by the door when they saw the women watching them, and Penelope watched as Riley’s fiancé leaned toward Cassidy and asked out of the corner of his mouth, “Why do I get the feeling we just walked into one of their disastrous plans?”

Cassidy shook his head, but he too looked wary. “I don’t know. But they’ve already got most of us ringed or on the way to the altar.”

“Most of us,” Jake said. “But not all.”

The other four men turned their attention to Cole and Lincoln, who’d both been looking at their phones and missed the whole thing.

They looked up, then looked at each other in confusion.

“Uh, what’d we miss?” Cole asked.

Julie’s husband, Mitchell, clapped Cole on the shoulder. “Don’t even worry about it, man. Chances are you don’t want to know.”

Cole frowned, his eyes moving around the room until they met Penelope’s. He lifted an eyebrow as though to ask Do you know what’s going on here?

Julie leaned toward Penelope with a knowing look on her face.

“Betcha Cole’s kisses are better than nice,” she said quietly.

“I wouldn’t know,” Penelope responded.

“Oh, but you will,” Julie said confidently, as she sat back and sipped her wine. “You will.”

Chapter 10

Cole and Penelope never discussed his walking her home. It just…happened.

It was snowing, but lightly, and Cole was relieved when Penelope looked content to walk through it rather than take a cab the several blocks to her place.

“I love snow,” she said as they trudged along the quiet sidewalks, lifting up her palms and letting the flakes land on her black gloved hands.

“Even in April?”

“Well, yeah, that’s kind of wrong. But still, it’s pretty.”

He smiled. “Sure, it’s pretty now. But will you love it when it’s piled up on the side of the curb, turned black from city grime, and creating a weeklong pile of slush at every crosswalk?”

Cole’d meant the comment as an off-the-cuff observation, but the way she was looking at him made him feel a bit like a grouch who’d declared the dessert table off-limits.

Then she surprised him with an equally gloomy response. “Everything pretty has an ugly underside.”

This time it was Cole’s turn to lift his eyebrows and look at her. “Dark thoughts, Tiny.”

“Oh, I don’t mean it in the depressed, glass-half-empty kind of way,” she explained. “But sometimes it’s better to be prepared, you know? To be aware that for every moment of wonder, another of disappointment is likely to follow.”

Cole considered this.

He was surprised to realize how closely her philosophy aligned with his own.

Cole knew how people saw him. He was aware of his charming, easygoing image. He cultivated it, even. Everyone assumed that nothing got under Cole’s skin because he never showed it getting under his skin.

But part of the reason he was able to maintain the happy-go-lucky vibe more often than not was precisely because of what Penelope was describing. He was always prepared for when the other shoe dropped; and as long as he knew it was coming, he could grin and bear it.

“So what about tonight?” he asked curiously. “You seemed like you were having fun.”

“Yes! So much fun,” she said, sounding so happy that his chest squeezed.

“So what’s the downside of a happy dinner party?” he asked teasingly. “What’s the ugly underside?”