"I know, I know, he's a charming guy. Next to him, I look and sound like an ungrateful Neanderthal."
Corsica squinted at me as I turned on the soft glow of a lamp. "I don't know. Maybe in the right light you could look a little bit like Mr. Templeton. Though, you could be hiding any number of things under that beard."
"I'll have you know my beard is very well maintained, and I've never had a woman complain. In fact, lots of women like the feel of it."
Corsica tipped her head and gave my beard a doubtful glance. "I guess it looks soft. What does the rest of you do while your beard is charming women?"
I laughed. "Obviously repelling them with my sub-par conversation."
Corsica followed me to the bedroom and lingered in the hallway as I flipped on the lights for her. When I stepped back into the hallway, we bumped into each other and got caught in the doorframe.
"The sheets are fresh, there's an en suite bathroom through that door, and extra blankets
in the closet if you get cold."
"Your beard won't be keeping me warm?" She put both hands on my chest as we both eased out of the tight doorway.
I caught one hand and kissed the back of it. "Thank you for saving me. Goodnight."
It wasn't until I flipped off the living room lights and settled down on the couch that I realized she had been hitting on me. She had wanted me to keep her warm. After everything, after seeing me in direct contrast to Xavier Templeton, Corsica still wanted me.
The effect was more than warming. I tossed off my blanket and sat up to punch my pillows. I leaned forward and glanced down the hallway just in time to see Corsica's light turn off. If it had stayed on just seconds longer, I would have found a reason to walk back down that hallway. Now, in the dark, all I could do was toss and turn all night, thinking about what I had missed.
Chapter Five
Corsica
I hesitated to open my eyes. If I woke up in Santa Cruz, in the small apartment that Ginny and I rented together, I would be crushed. The views I had seen last night of golden lights across the shimmering San Francisco Bay could have been a dream. And a dream was the only explanation for meeting Xavier Templeton and singing while he accompanied me on piano.
I squeezed my eyes shut and thought back to what had really happened. I met Penn. He was tall, dark, bushy-bearded, and tattooed. And handsome.
I didn't want to admit it, but Penn attracted me with a magnetism I had never felt before. I should have been repelled, but instead, I had been drawn into his arms more times than I could count. I buried my blushing face in the soft pillow and remembered throwing myself at him.
He'd been nothing but polite, and I had misread the entire situation—except for when he lied and let his employer think we'd been dating for a while.
My eyes popped open. Why would Penn do that unless he actually felt something for me?
I felt a wave of dizziness crash over me as I sat up. I hadn't dreamt up the views or the mansion.
What I hadn't seen last night and now blinked at in shock was the garage apartment. It was a simple A-frame loft with a wall of windows dedicated to the bay views. The master bedroom shared a section of that window. The ceiling sloped down to a clever built-in closet. Everything was custom-framed redwood. The apartment exuded elegant simplicity. It must have cost a fortune.
This was where Penn lived?
I scrambled out of bed and realized the simple but high-quality furnishings all spoke to Penn's rugged, outdoors style. Every book on the custom-made shelves, every photograph on the wood-paneled walls, and every treasure displayed spoke of adventure, minimalism, and rebellion against the opulent luxury that resided directly across the driveway.
Standing in Penn's apartment, I felt an affinity for the man I hardly knew. I knew I had expensive taste, but I wanted to earn everything for myself. The only problem was the sudden stone wall that stood between me and the job I had so carefully planned to have.
There was definitely an uncompromising way about Penn, and I wished I could be the same. I wanted to sing and settle for nothing less than the joy it brought me, but I had a dwindling bank account to consider.
Just a quick cup of coffee, I'll leave, and I'll send that resume over for Joshua to edit, I promised myself.
Last night hadn't been a dream, but I had to treat it like one. Now that it was morning, it was time to get back to real life. With my shoulders squared, I dragged on my little black dress, smoothed it down as best I could, and wandered into the main room.
I half-expected Penn to be gone to an early morning meeting with his employer, so when I spotted him still sprawled out on the couch, I froze. My heart thumped hard in my chest, and I pressed a hand against it, worried that my galloping pulse would wake him. How was it possible for him to look better in the bright sunlight?
I had been certain that by the sober light of day, I would be horrified. The magnetic attraction had to be a heady mix of alcohol and rebellion. The night before, in a fit of childish refusal, I had ignored my ex-boyfriend's practical suggestions and purposefully made a bad choice. Just for fun; just to get it out of my system. Except the effect had not worn off; it had grown stronger.
Penn's long, strong legs dangled over the end of the couch. The blanket was tangled around his waist and revealed the hard contours of his washboard stomach and wide chest. One muscled arm was thrown carelessly over his head, and I could not help but study the intricate tattoos that covered his tan skin. They continued up his arm to encase his shoulder and reach heavily designed tendrils over his chest. Where the tattoos ended, a mat of dark hair began.