Archive of Our Own

Penelope pointed and flexed her toes against the metal rung of the barstool, far too high for her feet to touch the ground even if she tried. Five-foot-nothing, she had once been insecure about her height, but she had embraced it lately and wore a cute pair of flats tonight. She smoothed her simple wrap dress, the one she had chosen in a pale blue color that she knew flattered her skin tone as it flowed off her curves in a way she loved, the neckline emphasizing what she knew to be her among her best physical assets. After arriving just a couple of hours ago, she had showered and changed, fixing her hair to highlight her loose curls, popping on a bit of lip gloss and mascara for good measure to feel just a little more human again after being stuck in stuffy airports all afternoon to make the short flight from New York City to Vermont. She could have taken the train, she supposed, but the ticket had been booked for her and the hour-and-a-half flight was quite a bit nicer than the long ride would have been. Besides, she couldn’t very well have said no to Eloise Bridgerton even if she had wanted to.

After a long day, but one thankfully without any complications, she was dressed up for herself and sitting on her own at the hotel bar, sipping her second cocktail of the night before Eloise’s wedding the next day—the big event culminating this whirlwind of a week. The romance itself had taken shape in a similar fashion, with her boss meeting her soon-to-be-husband just six months ago after some time corresponding through email. They had hit it off immediately once meeting in person, with Eloise falling in love not only with Phillip Crane, but with his two children from a previous relationship as well. They had become engaged a few short weeks ago and seemed to be working through plans for a big wedding, but when Penelope had arrived at work on Wednesday, Eloise had pulled her into her office and told her—her executive assistant of two years now—that her scheduled vacation with her family was now going to include a spur of the moment elopement, and that Penelope was of course both invited and expected to attend. She had been surprised to have been asked to come to such an intimate family affair; however,Eloise had been insistent that she needed Penelope to be there, citing a closeness that her assistant never knew her boss had felt with her and letting her know that she would be given the day off Friday to travel using the plane tickets and hotel accommodations that had already been booked in her name. Eloise had thought of absolutely everything—essentially giving her no way out—but once Penelope had gotten over the initial awkwardness of the invite, she truly had become more and more enamored with the idea of the trip, of a weekend away and being there for such a romantic occasion.

Most exciting though—far more than the trip to Vermont or even the spontaneous wedding itself, though she’d never tell Eloise—was that Eloise’s brother Colin would be flying in tomorrow, the Bridgerton whose apartment Penelope had been living in for over a year, but who she had yet to meet.

The Bridgerton she was head over heels in love with without having ever laid eyes on him.

It had been a year—though it simultaneously felt like both yesterday and a decade ago—since Penelope had finally worked up the nerve to break up with her then-boyfriend Alfred, who she had been dating for five years and living with for three. It had been a relationship fraught with misunderstandings and mismatches, one in which she had never really felt seen or cared for, no matter how hard she tried to be everything he seemed to want her to be. Their breakup had been calm—too calm, really, for people who should have had five years worth of feelings between them—and Alfred’s only response had been that he wanted her out of the apartment they shared by the end of the week. After five years together, the ease with which he let her go and wanted her out had been alarming, though she could not deny that she’d been desperate to leave as well.

When she’d gone to work the day after what felt more like a mutually agreed upon breaking of a contract than a breakup, she did her best to try to hold in what she was going through, using her breaks to search apartment listings on her phone to no avail, and trying not to think about how pathetic it was that she was more put out by needing a place to live than she was by ending a relationship with this man. Penelope had known that if she needed to, she could have returned home to her mother’s house and commuted into the city for work, but she’d been desperate to avoid that at all costs—the last thing she needed was to move from one home where she didn’t feel cared about or valued to another that had always been the same. However, listing after listing had shown apartments that either weren't available that week or were too far above her budget to have been options for her. 

She’d been lamenting about her lack of any real leads to a coworker in the breakroom when Eloise had piped up from the hallway that one of her brothers—she had four of them, along with three sisters, the size of her family had always been something that Penelope found both shocking and fascinating—was getting ready to travel for work for the next couple of years and was looking for someone trustworthy to sublet his apartment. Eloise had said she would make sure her brother gave Penelope a great deal, saying Colin wasn’t overly concerned with the rental price and would surely be able to work within her budget.

Penelope could not help the way her ears had perked up at the mere mention of it being Colin’s apartment. She didn’t know him, of course, but she’d seen plenty of his photojournalism work through his sister and was enthralled by it, the care with which he highlighted his subjects, the depth and warmth that each and every one of his photographs seemed to exude. Perhaps it was silly to think you could know anything about a person from an image that didn’t contain them, but it didn’t stop her from believing that he must be made of the same magic his pictures were.

It turned out that Colin hadn’t taken much convincing at all, with Eloise calling Penelope into her office at the end of the day to let her know that she’d spoken with her brother and vouched for her assistant, and that he was willing to offer the apartment to Penelope for quite a reasonable amount, pre-furnished and with utilities included. Colin didn’t really need the money, Eloise had explained, since his lodging on the road would be covered by his company while he traveled and he couldn’t take his furniture with him, so he had apparently been ecstatic to know someone trusted needed the place and could take over the rental from him while keeping him on the lease for when he someday returned. He would be moving out on Friday and Penelope could have it that Saturday, meeting Alfred’s requirement that she be out at the end of the week. Eloise had seemed quite pleased with herself for making the match that allowed each of them to get things taken care of so quickly, and Penelope had been amused at the way her boss went on and on about how perfect Colin’s place would be for her, as though there had been any question about her desire to take it.

When moving day arrived, Penelope had spent it carrying boxes one by one from the packed car she had rented for the day up to the apartment, not wanting to bother anyone else by asking for help; she didn’t have that much that belonged to her, anyway. She really hadn’t minded doing it on her own—she had craved the independence, actually, after living for so long with someone who needed her to speak and think and behave in a way that suited him, not unlike how her mother had treated her growing up. If independence meant lugging her own boxes in from the car to the apartment over and over again, so be it.

The apartment—now hers, though part of her still thought of it as Colin’s as well—had been impeccably clean and obviously well taken care of. It was fully furnished, from the bedroom to the living room to the kitchen—which was a huge plus, since she was moving from a shared apartment and almost everything was either Alfred’s or theirs jointly, and she had left it all behind, not feeling it was worth the discussion to be able to keep things for herself. Colin hadn’t been able to take any of it anyway—from the furniture to the books to the dishes—yet he hadn’t even considered raising the cost of her rent to account for the furnishings.

“You’re basically storing it for him while he’s gone,” Eloise had said with a shrug at the time, working to absolve Penelope of the guilt of knowing that Colin surely could have asked for quite a bit more than he was getting from her, slowly settling into a simple gratitude that this particular situation had worked out well for both of them. 

When she had checked the kitchen, she found it just as clean as everywhere else, with an empty dishwasher, pots and pans all put away and ready for her use. Absentmindedly, she had opened the refrigerator knowing she would find the same care and laughed when she saw a lone container of butter sitting on one of the shelves with a note on top.

I couldn’t take it with me and thought you might be able to use it - consider it my housewarming gift to you :)

Penelope had giggled at his note, his little smiley face, the idea that he couldn’t bear to throw the stick of butter away. There was something endearing about it all, from his words to the gesture itself. At the bottom of the carefully torn slip of paper, he had left his phone number and a reminder to reach out if she needed anything at all.

Colin.

She’d smiled to herself, closing the fridge and putting his note and number on the outside of the door with a magnet—one depicting a head of lettuce wearing sunglasses with “lettuce romaine calm” in script around it. A funny dork with sexy handwriting. Could handwriting be attractive? She had never thought so before, but something about his—perfectly legible but slightly askew, as though his brain had been moving more quickly than his hand could manage—was appealing. 

After a trip to the grocery store to fill the refrigerator and cabinets, along with some time spent familiarizing herself with the pots, pans, and dishes to make herself dinner, she had decided to pick up her phone and send a text message to the number he had left for her—he had left his number, after all, so it only felt right to check in.

After typing and deleting about seven different messages, she’d decided her best bet was to remain calm—to make a first impression that made him glad someone so reasonable and responsible was going to be living in his place for an indefinite amount of time.

Hello, this is Penelope Featherington. I’m subletting your apartment. I just wanted to make sure that you have my number and also to thank you for the butter.

She had put her phone down and turned it over, trying to give herself every chance to be normal about this exchange as she finished plating her meal, but before she had even been able to move to the table, her phone had pinged, alerting her to a response from him.

Hey Penelope! Hope your move-in went smoothly and that you can use that butter. It begged me to let it stay with you.

Carrying her plate to the table, she’d stared at the text and giggled, knowing she should have stopped then and there—it was just a check-in and she didn’t know this man, but she’d felt immediately at ease with him and his sweet, silly disposition. They were only texts, after all, so there wasn’t quite so much risk involved if she came off a little too eager to respond.

My ex was a vegan, so it’s been years since I’ve been allowed to have butter.

It was more exciting than you could have known lol

Penelope had cringed at her own words as she shoveled a forkful of pasta into her mouth, silently cursing herself for being so awkward. Colin was talented, likely popular, and without question unbearably attractive, so it only made sense that he would spend most of his time talking to women who were cooler than she could ever dream of being. He had, however, also claimed that a stick of butter told him it wanted to stay with her. So perhaps there was a chance that there was a complexity to him that might leave a little space for conversation with a girl who couldn’t ever quite say the right thing.

Allowed?

His question had broken her from her thoughts, but after taking a deep breath, Penelope had continued to eat, knowing she couldn’t respond—that she shouldn’t have said anything about Alfred in the first place. She had only meant to make a butter joke, and though her social skills might not have been the sharpest, she certainly knew better than to get into the ins and outs of her toxic past relationship with an absolute stranger, no matter how kind and funny and very likely hot he was. Colin had seemingly understood her lack of a response for what it was, as he hadn’t waited long before moving the conversation on without mentioning her ex-boyfriend again.

I hope you made something great with it.

She’d smiled at the phone, taking another bite of what had been a delicious first dinner in her new place. Maybe he was just being kind, but she hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that he wanted—needed—the conversation just as much as she had that night as they each transitioned into a new normal, a new home.

Noodles with butter and parm

It had seemed that she was already learning to read Colin, because she’d known then not to bother putting her phone down and had been proven right when his response came through just seconds later. 

Double-dairy, I like it

Picture?

Grinning, Penelope had snapped a photo of her partially eaten pasta, still looking presentable enough in Colin’s bowl—hers, for now. Theirs, she would come to think of it as the months went by. After sending him the picture, she had watched a heart appear in the corner almost immediately, as though he had just been waiting. The thought alone made her stomach flip.

Looks amazing

Feeling her cheeks getting warm, she had reminded herself that the sweet, probably gorgeous man was talking about her food, not her. The noodles had looked amazing. Praise of her noodles shouldn’t have made her blush, but she was sure that it had as she sent her silent gratitude to the universe for his inability to see it as she thanked him, giggling once again when he suggested that perhaps she should add garlic and parsley next time. Biting her lip, she had sent one last text.

Might need you to send me a recipe

Again, a heart had been instantaneous and again, she didn’t have to wait more than a moment for the reply that followed.

Gladly

Have a great first night, Penelope

Welcome home

Sitting at the hotel bar sipping her drink as she watched others in the room, Penelope smiled to herself as she remembered that first night—the quick exchange that had turned into what felt like a real conversation, the conversation that had turned into more conversations. Not twenty-four hours later, she had come upon another reason to text Colin, having realized that she didn’t know where some emergency supplies were located. He had followed suit a day later, telling her he had forgotten to move his books from the bookshelf and that she was more than welcome to stash them away in the closet, as though she hadn’t already lined hers up right beside them and chosen one of his to take to bed to read.

The days had turned to weeks, then months, and their conversation never slowed—her plumbing questions, his nearby restaurant recommendations, her gossip about the neighbors, his requests to forward mail that had been sent there by mistake. There were times when she had felt silly for reaching out to him, for finding a reason to get to chat with him for a few minutes, for being absolutely smitten with him from nothing but those texts. But every time she started feeling that way, without fail, he would text first the following time in a routine that felt perfectly choreographed in a way that brought her peace of mind—he must have at least enjoyed their conversations if he was beginning them just as often as she was.

When Christmas had come that year and Colin had learned he was not going to be able to return for the holidays, he sent his gifts for his nieces and nephews to the apartment and asked Penelope if she could hand them off to Eloise for him to ensure they could have them waiting under the tree. After thinking about it for a few minutes after, she had known that she could do better than handing shipping boxes over to his sister—that she could help make this Christmas away from the family he was clearly so close with a little bit easier for him. Colin was kind and thoughtful, and he deserved to have that returned to him. It would not be hard to bring him a little joy of his own.Texting him back, she had confirmed that all of the packages that he mentioned had arrived and offered to open the boxes and wrap the gifts for him. Any worry that she had overstepped had been quickly put to rest as he wrote back thrilled that she would offer, thanking her profusely in a way that—while unbeknownst to him—had captured even more of her heart.

After having gone out to purchase enough paper and ribbon to wrap all of the gifts that had arrived on their doorstep—she knew it was wild to think of it that way, but her apartment truly was theirs and she could no longer see it any other way—she’d settled in and opened the boxes, sending Colin photographs of each item so that he could tell her who it was for. It was clear how much he loved his nieces and nephews, as he didn’t just text her a name, but in most cases a full anecdote about why they needed or wanted that particular present, significant thought having gone into each and every one. The texts had flown back and forth between them for hours as she meticulously wrapped each of his gifts, feeling as though she had gotten to know him even better over the afternoon of exchanging stories about their siblings, about their families growing up, about their closeness—or lack thereof, in her case—now that they were adults. It was comforting and warm, the way she liked him more and more with every phrase he typed, the way he kept proving himself worthy of the affection she could not help but feel for him.

Eloise had of course raised an eyebrow that evening when she came by the apartment to pick up what she had been told would be a few shipping boxes filled with toys, instead handed a stack of beautifully wrapped gifts, personalized with notes that were clearly Colin’s words in Penelope’s careful handwriting. Her boss had smirked and shaken her head as she took them and left, having shouted over her shoulder that she would see her at work as she left to load them into her car. 

It was a few hours later when the doorbell had rung again and Penelope found dinner being delivered from her favorite neighborhood restaurant,sent by Colin as a thank you for her help. When she had asked him how he knew what to order, he had only texted her back that he had his ways and that he appreciated her spending the afternoon with him, causing her to bite back a whimper she was grateful he could not hear at the mere idea that he had liked spending so much of their time together that day, even if over the phone—that she had made him happy, even if it had only been for wrapping his gifts. Then she had arrived at the office the next morning and Eloise had a warm drink ready and waiting for her from their favorite coffee shop, just the way she liked it, saying it was also from Colin. Penelope had felt the way her cheeks went pink as she turned away from his sister, tickled that he would have thought of her yet again, the man she could not stop thinking about.

Their afternoon of gift wrapping seemed to open the floodgates, as their exchanges had rapidly become more frequent and more personal from then on. The more they talked, the more she had learned little bits about his bonds with his brothers and sisters, about his travels, about his favorite breakfasts, his favorite books and movies, and Penelope’s feelings for Colin had grown stronger. It felt silly to say she was falling for a man she had never met—never even heard or seen—but she couldn’t deny that it was the truth, that she felt more strongly for him than she ever had for anyone else, that the best part of her day was reading the thoughts that flashed across her screen beneath his name.

The photos they exchanged had also become more and more frequent, with several going back and forth each day. They had begun simply enough that fateful afternoon—photos of the gifts for the kids so that he could see for himself—and had slowly become something more. A picture of her coffee with a thank you; photos sent her way of the little cafes he frequented during his travels, finding a new one in each location which she knew was his first ritual upon arriving in a city. Bits and pieces of his trips that would never make it to a publication, that he seemingly saved just for her.

To share coffee and breakfast with you, he had texted along with the first photo of its kind, surely having no idea how she’d bite her lip and try to ignore the butterflies in her stomach that always arrived in response to his words. There was no stopping his sweetness and also no stopping how special it made her feel, even if that feeling was misguided, even if it was just who he was and had little to do with her–Colin was just thoughtful, she had learned over and over again.

One day, his regular morning coffee picture had come through with an addition she couldn’t tear her eyes away from—his hand holding the coffee mug. Innocent, since he hadn’t known how much she longed to see him, to have proof of him being a living, breathing human being as though she might have been texting some kind of mirage this whole time. It was a beautiful hand, too—could a hand be beautiful?—so much larger than hers, she could imagine it engulfing her own, and he wore a ring on his thumb, something she had not known she was into but apparently very much was. Penelope knew that if she searched his name online she would be able to easily find a social media presence and more than enough photographs of the man she spent her days talking with, but she also didn’t want to. As attracted as she was to him from his text messages alone, she knew she would be done for if she saw him and she also wasn't sure it was really fair to go searching for him; she’d rather see him when he wanted her to.

And he had wanted her to see his hand, it seemed, because every coffee photo thereafter included it, large and warm—she was sure of it—with long fingers and that unbearably sexy ring. After a couple of days of imagining what those fingers could do to her—something she had felt deeply bad about, considering the man who now starred in her fantasies was just being kind—she, in a moment of either brilliance or weakness, had begun putting her own hand in her coffee photos to send back to him, too, letting herself wonder for just a moment whether he’d fantasize about her small fingers in the same way, whether he would picture what she could do to him, what she would love nothing more than to do to him.

Is that cup massive or is your hand really that tiny? he had asked, leaving her wishing she had been brave enough to send a provocative response about it being big enough to bring him pleasure, or asking him whether it would fit around his cock—barely, she guessed, if his hands were any indication. She had shaken her head as though she could remove the lewd thoughts as she went a different way—teasing, friendly, as normal as she could manage.

I’m not tiny, you’re just a giant, she had replied, to which he had reacted with a laughing emoji before telling her that he had been fairly certain she was tiny, finally getting her height out of her and teasing—gently, sweetly—even further when he told her he was a full foot taller than she was, another fact that had come to invade her daydreams. That this man who made her smile and laugh could also cover her, envelop her, surely lift her up against a wall if he wanted. Not that he ever would, but that was what fantasies were for.

Pictures exchanged of their hands had slowly come to include other glimpses of each other when Colin had taken a photo of the top of a building behind him, meaning to show her some art that had been painted on the upper level, probably not knowing that her eye would have instead been drawn to the little bit of his forehead that was in the photo, gorgeous chestnut hair that looked like it curled haphazardly, yet somehow perfectly all at once. She had wanted more than anything to run her fingers through it, to tug on it just a little, before having shaken that image from her head as quickly as she could lest she become lost in the idea of him again. Penelope had, though, returned the favor, beginning to send him pictures that included her hair, too—quite an easy feat, as her mane of fiery red curls liked to make itself known and couldn’t truly be tamed. Colin had commented almost immediately the first time, complimenting the color, the curls, making her heart race from across the world once more.

But it had been four months ago that he had given her the biggest gift she had yet received—a photo that contained the most captivating denim blue eyes she had ever seen, sparkling at her from the screen as a single rogue curl fell away from the rest onto his forehead. She was certain she could drown in his eyes, having dreamed of them every night since, and if she was being honest, saw them every time she closed her own. After seeing those kind, gorgeous eyes and swallowing hard, she had sent a picture back right away, her light blue eyes shining brightly as she took a snapshot of the sunset behind her.

Wow, was all he had texted in response, the colors in the sky clearly peaking his interest the same way they did hers. In her dreams, though, she pretended that wow was meant for her, that he was as into her as she was him. In her dreams, his sweet gestures and thoughtful conversation and funny observations merged with the sexy features she had been blessed with glimpses of to create some version of Colin who was entirely hers, if only for the night. If only in her wildest fantasies.

Somehow, without ever having met him, she had fallen head over heels for Colin Bridgerton—double and triple and quadruple texter, amateur chef, loving uncle and brother, sub-par taste in music but passionate in his reasons for his choices, the only man who had ever given her butterflies in her stomach, owner of the fingers and eyes and slutty curl that took over her dreams.

It had been over a year now since that package of butter had been left in the fridge, that first text, and yet the butterflies were as busy as they had ever been because tomorrow would finally be different. Tomorrow, she would see him, hear him, meet him in the flesh when he arrived for his sister’s wedding. Surely it would be awkward, surely it would break her heart as she finally received confirmation that he was just kind, just thoughtful—that the feelings that overwhelmed her were hers alone.

But a girl could dream, couldn’t she?

Especially when the dream was Colin.

Taking another sip of her drink, Penelope listened to a conversation happening down the bar from her, laughing as she caught what she could and barely noticing when a man sat down, taking the stool directly beside her despite plenty of others being open. Another day it might have annoyed her, but the drinks and the trip and her mind being wrapped up in the Colin of it all had her unbothered by the proximity.

“Guenther,” the man’s voice called out, getting her attention as well for just a moment with its rich, soft tone as he motioned the bartender over and ordered himself a drink. Penelope continued to nurse her own, sip by sip, as she focused on people-watching.

“You look beautiful,” the voice beside her rang out and surprised her not in its forwardness but in the way it somehow did not feel as though it was forward at all. “I, uh–I love that color on you.”

“Oh, thank you,” she said, brushing him off and averting her gaze as he surely made whatever polite conversation he could. “It has pockets.”

His laughter burst through the space between them and the sound excited and calmed her all at once, as though she were being teased by an old friend and not a stranger.

“Always a plus,” he replied as she tried not to pay attention to the way she could feel his eyes on her, nor to the fact that it felt oddly comforting. “That extra cargo space.”

“It really is,” she offered with a laugh of her own. “You never know what you may need to carry.”

“It’s true,” he said softly. “Seems like as good a reason as any to wear something.”

“All my friend told me was ‘dress for cold weather’—what does that even mean when you’re going to a wedding?” 

Recalling Eloise’s instructions and her complete lack of ability to interpret them in any helpful way as she had struggled to pack for the weekend, she shook her head as he laughed.

“Great question,” he said, pausing just long enough to take a swallow of his drink. “A jacket? Mittens?” 

“Can you imagine?” Penelope giggled and could swear she felt him move closer, a feeling of familiarity now loosening any tension she had been feeling. “Show up to her wedding with a coat and mittens on.”

“It would serve her right for not giving you better guidance,” he said, his defense of her warming her as she smiled so broadly her cheeks hurt.

After taking the last sip of her cocktail, she placed her empty glass on the bar, running her finger tip gently over the rim. 

“Can I get your next one?” he asked as her eyes dropped to his foot tapping against the rung of the barstool.

“Oh, um–” 

“Just want to treat you,” he interrupted quickly, as though he needed to apologize. “If that’s okay.”

“Alright,” she said softly as he called Guenther over, gesturing to give her another. She could not shake the feeling that he reminded her of him, and admonished herself for having such a one-track mind that she couldn’t even converse with someone else without thinking of him. “So what brings you here?”

“You mean do I come here often?” he asked, deepening his voice for a moment, and she giggled as he soothed her nerves once more.

“I mean, I assume you wouldn’t be in a hotel in the middle of nowhere in Vermont if you did,” she teased. “Sitting at a bar talking to me, of all people.”

“I think I’d happily sit at a bar and talk to you anywhere. I come here once a year, actually—it’s been our family vacation spot for a very long time, so it’s special to us, I guess you could say. Guenther here knows us quite well, we’re his favorites,” he said as the older bartender huffed and rolled his eyes, making Penelope giggle. “But I’m here for a wedding, too.”

“Oh, I wonder how many weddings there are here this weekend,” she said, taking a sip and glancing at her cell phone, feeling a pang of disappointment that she had gone all day without a message from Colin, though perhaps he was getting ready for his own flight. They hadn’t talked about the wedding or the trip at all—she had been too nervous to mention it and when he hadn’t brought it up either, she had avoided the topic altogether, so she wasn’t sure what his plans were outside of Eloise having said he would arrive tomorrow. Shaking her head, she remembered her manners and continued. “I work for the bride; she said I’m her best friend and had to be here. I don’t know—it was… flattering and confusing?” 

“I’m the best man,” he said as she bit back a laugh at the pride in his voice, sweet that he would feel so strongly about having secured the position. “And know the bride pretty well, too.”

Looking down the bar, her eyes landed on a couple she had been watching earlier, the man leaning in as the woman put her hand on his chest, laughing in a way Penelope was quite sure wasn’t natural. She had almost lost herself in their moment when she felt a warm breath against the shell of her ear, somehow both comforting and exhilarating as she pretended it was someone else—with chestnut waves and denim eyes and the kindest heart she knew—whispering to her instead.

“How long have those two been trying to make this happen?”

She giggled and felt, more than heard, him do the same beside her, seemingly equally entertained by watching the strangers flirting a few feet away from them.

“At least half an hour,” she answered, spinning her stool to fully look in the direction he was gesturing as he followed suit, watching from behind her. “I’m not sure they’re supposed to be here together, though.”

“What?” he asked, his voice light and curious.

“I saw him come in with someone else,” she mused. “But I don’t know what happened to her, and now he’s here with this one.” 

“That’s unbelievable,” a huff came from behind her, followed by a swallow before he set his glass on the bar.

“She’s gorgeous, though. You know how guys are,” Penelope said with a snort, sure that he must have picked up his fair share of women at bars, as smoothly as he was making conversation with her. “Too bad you didn’t get here a few minutes earlier, could have chatted her up yourself.”

“She’s not really my type,” he said calmly, though his fingers began tapping the bar as though he could no longer stay still.

“Oh? And what’s your type?” she asked, emboldened by the alcohol, by Vermont—who knew what the cause was, really, but there was no use stopping it now. 

He chuckled to himself as he spun back toward the bar and she followed suit, taking a slow sip as she waited for him..

“Redheads,” he said quietly and she coughed on her drink.

“Is that so?” she teased, trying not to blush.

“Short ones with keen observational skills.”

“Very funny,” she said, rolling her eyes.

He hummed, sipping his drink, and she glanced toward it, her eyes immediately drawn to his thumb ring catching the lights above the bar as she stared at his hand on his glass.

A hand she knew, not in the flesh but in photographs wrapped around coffee mugs.

In her fantasies wrapped around her.

“I’m serious,” he said, his tone as warm as he always had been with her. “You know I’ve never been able to resist your charm.”

Taking a deep breath, she finally risked glancing up at the man and saw him already watching her, the dark blue eyes that had been haunting her dreams each night sparkling back at her, the single stray chestnut curl hanging perfectly over his forehead begging to be touched. He was somehow even more beautiful than she had imagined.

“Colin,” she exhaled, his eyes somehow brightening even more as his name fell from her lips. 

“It’s good to see you, Pen.”

It took everything in him not to lean forward and kiss the gasp of surprise straight from Penelope’s lips as she stared at him awestruck, her crystal blue eyes wide and somehow even more breathtaking in person. In fact, everything about her had stolen the air from his lungs—from the moment he had walked into the bar and recognized the bright red curls which had filled his camera roll and his dreams for the past several months now. 

As soon as Colin had arrived at the hotel, he had sent a text to his sister, Eloise, and her fiancé Phil, who also happened to be one of his closest friends. By the time he’d made it to his room and set his bag down, Phil had responded with directions to see Guenther for a special gift, claiming it was a thank you for agreeing to fly in for their elopement on such short notice. Upon Colin’s insistence that a thank you was unnecessary—there was no world in which he would miss his best friend’s wedding, let alone his little sister’s, even if it meant traveling thousands of miles to be here—Eloise herself had called him and yelled at him to get his ass to the bar, assuring him that he would thank her later. 

If he had known what—or who—was awaiting him, he might not have taken his sweet time showering and dressing in his favorite pair of jeans and a navy blue sweater, which he’d rolled up to just under his elbows. After spraying on his cologne and taking one last look in the mirror—twisting the curl that hung over his forehead to get it just how he liked—he had left his room behind, planning to get a couple of drinks and spend some time people-watching, his favorite thing to do in any hotel bar, but especially this one. 

The Bridgertons had been coming here in the autumn for as long as Colin could remember—both because of his mother’s fondness for the fall foliage of Vermont and their collective need to escape the concrete madness of New York City every so often—though it had been a few years since he had joined his family on their annual trip. First, due to his ex-girlfriend Marina’s refusal to make the trek north and her demand that he stay behind with her, which should have been his first clue that the relationship was doomed. Unfortunately, he hadn’t taken the hint and after they’d broken up last year, he had taken on a new role with the magazine which sent him traveling around the globe and he hadn’t been able to come back for the trip so shortly after leaving. He hadn’t been planning to be here for this year’s either until his sister had called him earlier this week and begged him to come, even getting Phil on the phone to request his presence as his best man. He wouldn’t have said no in any case, but getting to stand up with his best friend and sister as they got married was enough to have Colin looking for flights before they’d even gotten off the phone. 

Now he couldn’t help but wonder if El’s pleading had anything to do with the gorgeous redhead sitting in front of him or if it was really so important to her that he be there. Either way, he owed the pair of them quite the wedding gift. 

He still couldn’t quite believe that Penelope was here with him in the flesh, still wished he hadn’t meandered so slowly to the bar as he’d walked through years worth of memories on his way to see what they’d had in store for him. He would have sprinted through the halls if he’d known that she was the gift waiting for him.

He had been stopped in his tracks the moment he had turned the corner—welcomed by the abysmal lighting and soft lounge music, neither of which had changed in all the years the Bridgertons had been coming here. Though he had only seen glimpses of copper curls, hints of creamy skin, and peeks of sea blue eyes that had invaded most of his nights since he’d first seen them, he had been absolutely certain that it was Penelope Featherington—the woman he had irrevocably fallen for over the past year despite never laying eyes on her in person—sitting at the bar, sipping on her drink. 

He had stood there in the entryway for a few long moments, soaking up every last detail he could while he had worked up his courage to talk to her, knowing that it could very well change his life forever—in truth, she already had. 

He had committed every piece of her that he could see to memory, understanding that the very moment that he had first seen her would be one that he would want to remember forever. Even from a distance, he had been certain she was the most beautiful person he’d ever laid eyes on. With her long red curls that he had dreamed of sinking his hands into, her voluptuous curves made even more alluring by the dress she wore which clung to them perfectly, her button nose which scrunched up when took a sip of her likely too-strong cocktail—she was a siren calling out to him, a goddess he wanted to get on his knees before to worship. 

He had noticed the way her feet could barely reach the rung of the barstool she was perched upon, chuckling to himself as he’d thought back to their exchanges about their large height difference and remembering the time he’d ordered a stepstool to their apartment—the designation he had given it in his head long before he’d come to terms with the depth of his feelings for her. She’d snapped a photo and sent it to him, and he could still picture her tiny middle finger, one of her sparkly blue eyes, and a tangle of fire just barely in the frame. She had clearly taken it while standing on the stool given he could see the top of the fridge behind her, and he had saved it to his Penelope album immediately, just as he did with all the photos she’d sent him that contained the scraps of her which had been sustaining him over the past few months. 

He had watched her perfectly pink lips form a pout he’d wanted to capture between his own as she’d twirled her straw in her cocktail and turned her gaze away from her phone back to the rest of the bar, seemingly trying to take her mind off of whatever she’d found there—or hadn’t found. It may have been his own hubris which had made him wonder if she had been hoping to see a message from him, as he really didn’t have any reason to believe that she returned his feelings other than his hope and the fact that his sister had obviously sent him down here for a reason. He had reached for his own phone, scrolling to his messages with her and rereading the last thing she had sent him—a goodnight text with a little yellow heart that he’d grown to think of as hers alone which she’d sent after he’d stayed up much too late once again for a chance to talk to her for just a little bit longer. He’d traced a finger over her heart before firing off a text to his sister with a quick thank you. Eloise had responded immediately: go get her. 

And so with another deep breath, he had approached the woman of his dreams, taking the barstool next to her and feeling a kind of calm that was at once entirely new and comfortingly familiar wash over him. Any doubt Colin had felt regarding the feelings which had crept up on him slowly before completely taking over his heart and mind had dissipated more and more with every second he’d spent near her—erased by her soft voice, her musical giggle, her hitched breath as he’d leaned just a little bit closer to her. He had not expected it to take so long for her to look at him, to realize who was sitting next to her, but he had not minded the extra time he’d had to drink her in as he’d sipped his old fashioned—her warmth even more effective than the bourbon in settling his nerves alongside his very soul.

Now, as he looked at the woman who had turned his world upside down, he couldn’t help but be grateful for the box of butter he’d left behind in his fridge for her and the very first text she’d sent to thank him for it. He never would have guessed that night that his sister’s assistant—and supposed best friend—would become the person he could no longer start or end his days without, but he wasn’t in the business of denying fate any longer. Not when she was peering up at him with those bright blue eyes he wanted to drown in and a look on her face that made him certain that she felt it, too. 

“Colin, what are you–” Penelope finally spoke again. “I can’t believe…what?”

He couldn’t resist but to reach out and spin her barstool to face his as he turned his own, bracketing her legs between his, leaving no space between their thighs. She shook her head in disbelief as a small smile played at her lips, and he tapped her knee with a finger and left it resting just below the hem of her dress, drawing both of their gazes to her lap. They both watched as she slowly inched her hand over the top of her thigh until her finger met his. After a moment of barely there contact, Colin’s breath caught when she picked his hand up in hers and used her other to delicately twist the ring that he always wore around his thumb. At the sound, her eyes snapped back to his and he could feel the tips of his ears heating as her smile widened—seemingly pleased to have affected him so. 

“Eloise told me you were flying in tomorrow,” she told him, her own blush darkening as he reached out the hand she wasn’t holding and twirled one of her curls around his finger as he’d been wanting to do since she’d sent the very first photo of them. 

He hummed as he tucked the curl behind her ear, letting his fingers graze over the side of her neck and watching closely as she shivered, goosebumps appearing in his path. He let his hand come to rest on his own leg, though his thumb settled on hers, soothing circles into her thigh through the thin fabric of the dress she’d worn—a perfect match to her lovely blue eyes. 

“Something you should know about my sister, Pen, is that she was born to meddle in other people’s business but especially her siblings’. If it makes you feel better, I wasn’t told you would be here at all—only that there was a gift waiting for me with our beloved Guenther,” he teased, delighted to be treated to her sweet giggle as she wove their fingers together and rested their joined hands on her lap. The man behind the bar let out a reluctant chuckle and rolled his eyes as Colin turned to smirk at him, and he was certain the bartender his family had known for years had been briefed on the situation by the meddlesome sister he currently owed everything to. 

“Colin?” Penelope’s voice brought his eyes back to hers and he cocked his head in question. “Why would Eloise consider me a gift for you?”

“Do you really have to ask, sweetheart?” The pet name slipped through his lips before he could stop it, but he didn’t want to take it back, especially not if it kept that pretty pink blush on her cheeks.

Pen shook her head once, her eyes traveling to her lap and lingering on the place where Colin’s thumb was still moving over her dress. 

“Penelope,” he spoke softly, pulling her gaze back to his. “It’s not just me, is it?”

“No, Colin. It’s not just you,” she whispered, lifting the hand that wasn’t holding his to touch the curl that hung over his forehead. He stayed as still as he could manage as her fingers lightly traced over his face, as if she were trying to memorize him just as he had been doing since he’d first laid eyes on her. She ghosted her thumb over his lips, grinning as he kissed it and letting her eyes find his once more. “Is this real, Colin?”

“You mean me and you?”

She nodded. 

“Yeah, Pen, I think it might be the realest thing I’ve ever known.”

“I thought–” she started and stopped, taking a deep breath. “I convinced myself that it was all in my head, that you were just being nice.”

“Sweetheart, I might be nice, but I’m not that nice,” Colin chuckled and Penelope bit her lip, looking up at him sheepishly. “I spent months searching for any possible excuse to talk to you, and ever since I threw reason out the window, we’ve been in near-constant conversation. Not to mention, I’ve been flirting with you like crazy the entire time.”

Penelope giggled and it took all of his restraint not to capture her lips so he could drink down the sound that had already solidified itself as his favorite of all time. 

“I didn’t know you were flirting,” she protested. “Tone is very hard to interpret over text, Colin.”

He laughed and lifted his hand from his leg to tap her nose, smiling as she scrunched it up. Instead of moving his hand back to his own lap, he lightly squeezed her knee and let it rest on the top of her thigh, his thumb just grazing the skin under the hem of her dress. And though Penelope made a point of looking down at her lap, she didn’t do anything more than smirk a little as she met his gaze once more. 

“Pen, love, I send you pictures of my coffee every day so that we can start our days together. I stay up late no matter where in the world I am to make sure I’m around to keep you company while you eat dinner at our apartment. I’ve been using my sister’s knowledge of you to send you gifts practically every week for almost a year. I had her leave flowers on your desk last week for God’s sake. You’re telling me you didn’t know I was flirting?”

Penelope shrugged, her blush now the color of her hair, and she looked so fucking cute that he couldn’t believe that he had waited so long to come home to her, that he had wasted a single moment not being in her presence since he’d realized he loved her. 

“They were very nice flowers,” she offered, bringing the hand she was holding to her mouth to place a kiss on his knuckles before lowering it once more. “They’re on our kitchen table.”

“Phil helped me pick them out,” Colin admitted as his heart threatened to beat its way out of his chest at the sweetness of her gesture mixed with the way she’d referred to something as theirs. 

“Are you really his best man?”

He nodded. “We met a few years ago when I was working on a piece about the olive groves in Greece—it was going to be my first international trip with the magazine. He’d studied them as part of his doctoral studies and I stumbled upon a couple of his papers during my background research. We ended up meeting up to talk about it and hit it off. Color me shocked when I discovered my little sister had gone and fallen in love with him after reaching out because of the essay. It was surprising enough to learn that she had actually bothered to look at something I’d worked on, let alone that she was dating my best friend.”

Colin had been counting on hearing her adorable giggle once more, but instead she tilted her head as she studied him, a thoughtful expression on her face. He felt exposed, as if she were seeing straight to the very core of him, though he supposed that wasn’t unlike the feeling he often had when they were texting. From the beginning it had felt like she had seen him, heard him, understood him better than anyone he’d ever met, and when he remembered that, it was hard to believe it had taken him so long to realize that he had feelings for her. Once he knew, however, there was no going back, and he’d only fallen deeper and deeper in the months since. 

“Eloise is really proud of you, Col,” she said after a long moment. “I’ve been hearing about your photos since I started working for her—the whole office has.”

“Really?” He couldn’t hide the astonishment from his tone and felt himself blushing even more to know that his sister had been sharing his work. El had always been the sibling that felt impossible to impress—besides Anthony, of course, though Colin had stopped caring about impressing his oldest brother—so to learn that she’d been proud of him all along meant more than he could properly express. Penelope, who had heard about his relationships with his siblings in their many conversations, seemed to know what was going through his head, and she squeezed his hand and smiled at him, bringing him back to the present—to her. 

“So how did El get you here?” he asked, changing the subject and hoping she would allow it.

“She called me into her office and told me I was coming. She’d already booked my flight and my room for the weekend,” Penelope explained and Colin laughed at his sister’s audacity, however unsurprising it was for her. “You really didn’t know I would be here?”

“No, she said it would be just family.”

“When did you figure out it was me?”

“The second I saw you sitting here,” he said truthfully, though he could see in her eyes that she was doubting him. He lifted his hand once more to play with her curls, relishing the shiver he drew from her and the knowledge that she was just as affected by him as he was by her. “I’d know this red anywhere, sweetheart. I see it in your pictures; I see it in my dreams. Neither do it justice, by the way. I don’t think anything could capture just how beautiful it really is, though I think maybe that’s true about all of you, Pen.”

“You think I’m beautiful?”

Colin nodded. He could tell she was asking because she truly wasn’t sure if he was being honest, and he promised himself he would never go a day without telling her exactly how gorgeous she was—assuming she’d allow him to remain at her side. 

“I was afraid I wouldn’t be enough for you,” she whispered and he thought his heart might break. He knew from their conversations that her ex-boyfriend—who had sent her packing and straight into Colin’s apartment, as well as his heart—had never been very good to her, had never worshiped her the way she deserved. But he loathed the idea that she had spent any amount of time worrying that she wouldn’t be enough for him, especially when she had spent so much of the last year consuming his thoughts and dreams.

“Not enough? Penelope, you’re everything.” 

“Colin,” she sighed, leaning into his palm, his fingers resting below her ear and his thumb stroking over the apple of her cheek. He leaned forward to press his forehead to hers and her free hand came to rest on his waist, gripping his sweater in her fist. 

“I really want to kiss you, Pen,” he said, his voice filled with the desperation he’d been feeling since he’d first seen her. 

She nodded against him, her eyes filled with unmistakable want.

“Is that a yes?” he asked, needing to know for certain.

“Yes, Colin,” she breathed. “Please kiss me.”

With the please threatening to undo him completely, Colin closed the distance between them and captured her plush pink lips with his own. Matching sighs slipped from them and Colin’s hand drifted into Penelope’s curls so he could tilt her head back, deepening the kiss as she opened for him and swallowing down her sweet moan. It was easily the best kiss he’d ever had, and he knew he was in the process of being ruined for any other person as he felt her mouth moving against his, tasting lemon, gin, and something that was purely Penelope on his tongue. He lost himself in her, pulling her from her own stool onto his lap so he could get her even closer, holding her just under her hip. She whimpered into his mouth as he kneaded her through her dress and he wanted to spend all night pulling those kinds of sounds from her. 

Who was he kidding? He wanted to spend the rest of his life doing this. 

Suddenly, a throat cleared loudly and they sprang apart, turning toward the noise to see Guenther watching them with a raised brow, clearly attempting to look annoyed; however, his twitching lip betrayed his amusement at the situation. 

“Maybe not at the bar, Mr. Bridgerton,” the old man advised, and Colin nodded over Penelope’s head, which she’d buried into his chest in her embarrassment. 

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” he assured her as he rubbed her back. “Guenther’s seen much worse than the two of us. In fact, I think he’s caught at least three of my siblings canoodling in those booths over there throughout the years.”

“Five, sir. I believe you make six.”

Colin laughed at the bartender’s correction and relaxed even further when he heard Pen’s adorable giggle floating up to him. She leaned back to peer up at him, blinking her wide blue eyes. He pressed his lips to her forehead first, then moved them to her ear, murmuring to her so as to not be overheard. “I don’t want to be too forward, but–”

“Yes,” she interrupted him and he chuckled, lifting her chin so he could look into her magnificent eyes once more. He kissed the tip of her nose and memorized the crinkle in it as she smiled at him. 

“How do you know what I was going to say?” 

“I’ve got keen observational skills, remember?” She raised her brow teasingly as she moved on his lap just enough to grind over his growing erection. Colin bit his lip to stop a groan from escaping him and tickled her under her rib, drawing her laughter from her again, and Penelope lifted a hand to trace his features once more. This time, he placed a kiss into her palm before she guided his lips to hers for a simple peck. 

“Come to my room with me, Colin,” she whispered against his mouth, scooting off his lap before he could properly kiss her again. After putting her phone in her purse and hiking it over her shoulder, she stood between his legs, leaning back as he tried to chase her lips. 

“Pen, that’s not fair,” he whined and she giggled, allowing him to pull her a little bit closer and brushing a hand through his waves. She kissed him again, tugging his bottom lip in between her own and releasing it with a pop, then giggling when he started pouting. 

“Come on, baby. We don’t want to scandalize poor Guenther anymore than you Bridgertons already have,” she joked, gesturing to the other end of the bar where the man had escaped to—likely to give them a little bit of privacy—but the only thing in Colin’s mind was the echo of Penelope’s sweet voice calling him baby over and over again. The sound of her laughter snapped him out of the trance she’d put him in, and when she offered him her hands to take, he gladly took them and let her pull him off his stool. 

“Put it all on my sister’s tab, Guenther,” he called down the bar, and the old man saluted in his direction before smiling at Penelope and waving goodbye. Colin looked between the two for a moment; he wasn’t sure he’d ever actually seen the man smile before, though it was no surprise that his Pen had been the one to charm the gruff bartender. 

“Colin!” she admonished. “It’s El’s wedding weekend!”

“Yes, and I’m the reason she found a husband,” he wagged his eyebrows at her and she bit back her smile. “Besides, I’m sure Ant is paying for the whole thing anyways. That’s what he did for Daph and Fran, and you should really have no problem spending his money.”

Penelope rolled her eyes, though she presented no rebuttal—they both knew Anthony Bridgerton had more than enough money to cover a few cocktails. Not that Colin didn’t himself, but he really didn’t want to waste any more time, nor did he want to let go of her hands as she began to walk backwards, leading him out of the bar. As soon as they were in the empty hallway that led to the elevators, Colin spun her so her back was against the wall, chuckling as she squealed in surprise. However, she quickly melted into the wall, letting her head rest on it as she lifted her chin to stare up at him with eyes that were more black than blue as he crowded her, twirling a curl around his finger again and trailing his other hand down her side. 

“You’re so fucking pretty, Pen,” he murmured as he kissed her cheek. 

“So are you,” she sighed as he nibbled at her lobe before kissing the sensitive skin below her ear. Her hands drifted into his hair and she tilted her head to the side to give him better access as he moved his mouth further down her neck, sucking at her pulse point. He hardened even further as her moans traveled straight to his cock, and he pressed his hips into her so she could feel his erection against her lush belly. Her hands tightened around his curls in response. “Oh god, I need you, Col.”

“You have me, sweetheart. You’ve had me this whole time,” he said against her skin as he continued to lavish attention on her, bringing his face closer to the cleavage that he’d had to fight to keep his eyes away from as it had practically begged for his touch, for his mouth. He scraped his teeth over the top of her breast before soothing the same place with his tongue, and she held him closer to her, spurring him on with the way her hips canted forward into him. Colin was so wrapped up in her that he might have lost control completely if it weren’t for the sound of laughter coming from the direction of the bar and growing closer by the second. He placed his broad body over hers to completely cover her as the couple they’d been watching earlier drunkenly made their way to the elevators. Once they were gone, he pulled back to look down at her and as soon as their eyes met, they dissolved into giggles.

As their amusement faded, Colin rested his forehead against hers and wondered how it was that it could be this easy with her—with them—so quickly. Nothing he had ever felt before, no one he had ever been with had ever made him feel so comfortable, and he found himself falling even more for her. Penelope laced her fingers through his chestnut waves, gently scratching her nails against his scalp as her blue eyes twinkled up at him. She pushed up onto her toes to kiss the tip of his nose and then his lips before lowering herself once more. 

“Colin?” 

He hummed as he pressed his lips to her forehead, watching her eyes flutter shut in delight. He ghosted his lips over her cheeks, eyelids, and nose, meeting her for a kiss once more. 

“Take me upstairs, baby,” she murmured against his mouth before pulling him in for another kiss, tracing the seam of his lips and tangling their tongues together as soon as he opened for her. Colin squeezed her hips and let his hands drift down over her delicious curves, settling them on the backs of her thighs and easily lifting her from the ground. He drank down her adorable yelp of surprise, and she giggled as she wrapped her legs around his waist, kissing her way across his cheek and tugging on his earlobe before whispering her room number to him. He felt his cock growing harder by the second as he swiftly walked them to the elevators and pressed the call button, a moan escaping through his lips as she buried her face in his neck, nipping at his skin and soothing it with her tongue. 

“That’s right, sweetheart. Mark me, Pen,” he sighed as she tended to him, sucking at his pulse point as he massaged her through her dress, any sense of propriety lingering between them having been thrown from both of their minds as he begged her to claim him as her own. 

As soon as they were in the elevator, Colin had her against the wall once more, grinding his hips into her hot center as she moaned into his skin. Penelope’s hold on his hair tightened and she shifted her hips over the hard ridge of his length, drawing a loud groan from him which rumbled through the enclosed space. He whined at the loss of her as she pulled her mouth away, but she quickly swallowed it down when she met him again for a kiss so passionate and all-consuming that neither noticed the elevator doors had opened until they heard someone coughing loudly. 

Shielding Pen the best he could—grateful once again for how tiny she was—Colin glanced over his shoulder to see his brother and sister-in-law staring at them, their jaws dropped open in shock, though Benedict’s gray eyes were dancing with amusement. 

“Um, we’ll get the next one, Col,” Sophie offered, seemingly trying to hold back her giggle as the doors began to slide closed.

“It was nice to meet you, Penelope!” Ben called out and Colin flipped them off, the couple’s laughter slipping into the elevator car just as the doors shut and it began to move again. Penelope had pressed her face into Colin’s chest and he carefully set her down, rubbing his hands over her arms as he kissed the top of her head, trying to assure her that it was alright until he realized her shoulders were shaking with laughter of her own. He chuckled and leaned back so he could look down at her, finding her more stunning than ever as her eyes sparkled bright and her cheeks burned fire-engine red. 

“That was one of your brothers, wasn’t it?”

“‘Fraid so, love,” he said, pressing his lips to her forehead. “Benedict and his wife Sophie. Apparently our dear Eloise told them you would be here.”

“Terrible first impression,” Penelope muttered under her breath and Colin threw his head back laughing. 

“On the contrary, Pen. Ben loves a little scandal. Guenther has had to deal with him more times than I can count. If I had to guess, I’d say you’ve thoroughly impressed him.”

Penelope giggled and allowed Colin to guide her out of the elevator as it stopped once more, finally on the right floor. Her room was only a couple of doors down, and he couldn’t help but to wrap his arms around her as she searched her purse for the key fob, successfully distracting her as he began to kiss her neck. She melted into him, letting her head fall back to his shoulder and reaching a hand up to weave her fingers through his hair. 

“Fuck, baby, I love your mouth on me,” she moaned as he suckled at her creamy skin. Colin hummed against her, nuzzling his nose into her neck before bringing his lips to her ear. 

“Open the door, sweetheart, and I’ll give you my mouth anywhere you want it.” 

Penelope nodded, fumbling with her purse again to grab the key and unlocking the door as quickly as she could. She pulled him inside behind her, throwing her bag to the side and toeing off her shoes, with Colin following suit as they stumbled further into the space in their hurry to continue what they’d started. He vaguely noticed that his sister had booked an extremely nice suite for her assistant—much nicer than his own room, though he had no intention of spending another minute there this weekend besides to collect his bag. He didn’t plan on leaving Penelope’s side until he absolutely had to. 

Luckily, she seemed to feel the same way as she tugged him by the hem of his sweater over to the wall, bringing his mouth back to hers and hiking a leg over his hip. Colin’s hands roved over her body, massaging her every curve and letting her breasts fill his palms beautifully. He let one of them trail over her thigh, slipping under the hem of her dress and pulling back ever so slightly to wait for permission. 

“Yes, Colin, yes,” she nodded enthusiastically, and he inched further toward her heat, both of them moaning as his fingers found her center, soaking wet even through the fabric of her underwear. He traced a finger over her before nimbly pushing the fabric aside, sliding the same finger through her folds. “Oh fuck, baby.” 

“So fucking wet, Penelope,” he groaned, as he pressed his thumb into her clit, rubbing circles over it as he teased her entrance with a finger. 

“For you, Colin. It’s all for you,” she panted, her hips canting forward, not hiding her desperation for him. Not interested in making her wait any longer, he pushed his finger into her, bringing his mouth back to hers as he began to move his hand between her legs. 

“Can you handle another one, sweetheart?” he asked and she whined, nodding frantically as she grasped at his shoulders. Colin pulled his finger out and pressed it in once more, side by side with another, stretching her apart as he began to pump them in earnest. “So tight, love. Fuck, Pen.” 

He continued working her toward her orgasm as he kissed his way to her cleavage, pushing up one of her breasts so he could get his mouth on as much of her as possible as she clung to him. Penelope was breathless above him, moaning and whining as he worked her up—every sound she made like music to his ears. Knowing she was getting closer and closer to her peak, Colin began to curl his fingers forward with each thrust, rubbing them against the spongy part of her in time with his thumb on her clit and drawing a yell from her that he quickly captured with a kiss. 

“That’s it, Pen,” he murmured against her lips. “Come all over my fingers, sweetheart.”

Penelope obeyed instantly, her whole body shaking as her walls clamped down around his fingers, a silent scream on her face as her arousal gushed from her. Colin slowed his hand, whispering in her ear as she came down from her high to tell her how perfect she was, how good she felt. He only stopped moving when her hand wrapped around his wrist, and she whined as he removed his fingers from her, watching intently as he lifted them to his mouth and sucked her taste from them. He was unable to stop the loud moan he let out as she flooded his senses—she was delectable—and he heard Pen’s breath hitch. 

“What is it, love?” he asked, using his other hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. With hungry eyes, Penelope moved her gaze to the fingers he’d just pulled from his mouth. “Do you want a taste, baby?”

She nodded and he brought his fingers to her lips, letting her wrap her perfect plush mouth around them and becoming impossibly harder as she moaned around his digits, tasting herself. After a moment, she released them with a small pop and stared up at him shyly, oblivious to the fact that what she’d just done was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. He pressed his lips to hers once more, the same taste of their cocktails now mixed with her, and his fingers moved to the bow at her waist keeping her dress closed. She nodded as she felt him playing with it, and he tugged the string to quickly untie it. 

Standing back slightly to take in all of her as the pale blue fabric fell to the carpet, Colin’s mouth dropped open in awe as he drank her in, his hands reaching for her automatically and reverently tracing over her curves and the silvery marks stretched across her skin. She was wearing a simple yet incredibly sexy pale yellow bra and panties, reminding him of the hearts she sent him each night before bed, and his erection was now stiff to the point of being painful under his jeans. Every single inch of her was perfect—soft and smooth and creamy and gorgeous—and he felt like falling to his knees in front of the goddess before him right then and there. 

“Colin,” her sweet voice snapped his gaze back to hers, and he could see her nerves written all over her face, still worried that he was displeased by her when, in fact, he was close to coming just at the sight of her. He let his hands come to rest on her hips, massaging his thumbs into her curves. 

“Aphrodite,” he whispered as he kissed her forehead, resting his against it instead of pulling away completely. “So damn beautiful, Pen. I think I might be the luckiest man in the world.”

“Want to see you too, Colin. Please,” she blinked up at him as she reached for his sweater, and he helped her pull it over his head along with the tank he’d worn underneath it. Standing as still as he could, he watched as her small hands wandered, her eyes following the path of her fingers through his chest hair and over the hard planes of his abdomen. He closed his eyes when she pressed her lips over his heart and opened  them again as she lifted a hand to cup his jaw, peering up at him. “I dreamed of this—of us. For so long, Col.”

“Me too, sweetheart,” he said as he twirled a curl around his finger and stroked his thumb over that pretty blush that he hoped would never go away. “Pen, baby, I just want you to know that there’s no pressure tonight. I would be so fucking happy just for the chance to be near you, to hold you.” 

“Mmm,” she hummed, biting her lip and studying him with a glint in her eye that he already knew meant whatever she said next was going to surprise him. He loved that; he loved her. “I know, baby, but I seem to recall you saying I could have your mouth wherever I want it and I think I’m going to hold you to that offer. I promise I’ll let you hold me after.”

Colin chuckled and kissed the smile from her lips, squeezing her hip as he pressed his hard body into her lush one, eliciting a sweet moan from her. He leaned down to murmur into her ear. 

“Lie down, Penelope.”

She shivered as he removed himself from her completely, letting her pass by to walk toward the bed as he pulled his socks off and started to unbuckle his belt, though he was distracted by the sight of her opulent curves as she swayed her hips. Pen glanced over her shoulder with bright eyes and a secret grin, winking at him as she reached behind her to unclasp her bra, dropping it to the floor next to her. Then she slowly pulled her thong down her legs so she could step out of it, leaving her bare and bent over in front of him. She picked up her panties and tossed them at him over her shoulder before crawling up onto the bed as a dumbstruck Colin gaped at her. 

The sound of her giggle snapped him out of his trance and he watched as she settled into the middle of the large mattress and propped herself up on her elbows to watch him. Her magnificent breasts and the little patch of red curls between her legs had his mouth watering, and he couldn’t wait to wipe the smirk from her lips as he used his lips and teeth and tongue to make her fall apart. 

Colin didn’t take his eyes off her as he bent down to pick up the pale yellow fabric she’d thrown at him, pocketing it and ignoring her indignant protest as he took off his jeans, leaving him in tight briefs that did nothing to hide his state of arousal from her. A smug smile played at his lips at the gasp that slipped from her as he removed those as well, letting his erection bounce against his abdomen. She licked her lips, watching hungrily as he crossed the rest of the space to her and spreading her legs to give him a place to nestle himself as he climbed over top of her. He held himself up with one hand as he used the other to tease her, lightly trailing his fingers over her skin as he brought his mouth closer to hers. He laughed as she impatiently pulled his lips to hers, kissing him deeply as her legs wrapped around him and moaning into his mouth when his hard length slid through her folds. She snaked a hand between them, trying to reach for him and whining when he stopped her. 

“Not yet, sweetheart. If you touch me, this will all be over before it even starts,” Colin told her, pulling her plump bottom lip between his teeth and peering down at her. “Let me give you my mouth like I promised, love, then you can have anything else you want.”

Penelope nodded, sighing as he started making his way down her body, pressing open-mouthed kisses wherever he could reach. He lingered at her breasts, grazing his teeth over one of her pert pink nipples as his fingers pinched the other, then pulling it into his mouth and suckling at her. He was spurred by her moans and her hips lifting off the mattress as he laved at her breasts, grinding his own hips into the bed to relieve some of the pressure building in his cock. 

“Oh fuck, baby,” she cried as he lightly bit down on her, soothing it with his tongue once more as her hand moved into his hair to hold him to her. “Yes, Col, that’s so good.” 

She was so sensitive, so responsive to his touch that he doubled down on his efforts, wanting to see if he could make her orgasm from this alone. He switched between her breasts, using his free hand to knead and squeeze and bring her closer and closer to the edge, her hips beginning to move faster and faster as she ground herself into him, her sweet arousal smearing over his abdomen. 

“Oh my god, Colin,” she keened underneath him, her back arching off the mattress. “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come.” 

He moaned around her breast, twisting her other nipple between his fingers, and a moment later she went completely still underneath him as she came for him again, yelling out his name. Colin licked her through it, rubbing circles into her hip to soothe her until she relaxed into the mattress and he finally lifted himself from her breast, resting his chin on her belly and peering up at her as she propped herself up on an elbow once more, her other hand stroking his hair. 

“I didn’t–” she started then shook her head, a sweet smile tugging at her lips. “That’s never happened to me before.”

Colin grinned at her and pressed a kiss into her stomach, relishing the feel of her nails against his scalp. 

“You’re incredible, love,” he murmured into her skin. “Pen, honey?”

“Mmm?”

“I want to taste you, sweetheart,” he glanced at her pleadingly and she nodded, her crystal eyes never leaving him as he continued the path he’d been distracted from down the rest of her stomach. He traced her stretch marks with his tongue and kissed every single freckle he could find before settling himself on his stomach between her legs, using an elbow to press her thighs further apart as he rested his forearm over her hips. With his other hand, he traced a finger through her folds, groaning as he felt the evidence of her need for him once more. “Fuck, Pen, I’m never going to get enough of you.”

“Good,” she whispered as she scratched his scalp. He kissed her inner thigh as his thumb lazily circled her bud and a finger teased her entrance, his forearm keeping her in place as her hips tried to chase his touch. 

“Such a pretty pussy, love. Just like the rest of you, my pretty Pen,” he said as he spread her lips, licking a single stripe over her and moaning as her sweet scent and taste overwhelmed his senses. “Oh fuck, sweetheart. I already knew you tasted good but you just might be my favorite meal.” 

“Yes, Col. Eat me, baby,” she whined. “Please, love.”

Colin had to grind his hips hard into the mattress to keep himself from coming at the sound of her calling him love as he nodded and buried his face in her pussy, no longer able to hold himself back from devouring her—drinking down every bit of her arousal as he ate her, lapping at her clit as she writhed under his ministrations. 

“Shit, baby, that’s so good. Oh god, yes, Col,” she babbled, her grip tightening on his curls as he pushed his tongue into her hole, letting his nose bump against her clit. His hips humped the mattress and he wasn’t sure he’d ever been so turned on in his life. He brought his lips back to her bud and she screamed as he sucked it into his mouth and pushed two of his fingers into her at the same time, curling them forward as he pumped them inside her. Her inner walls immediately started pulsing around him. “Fuck fuck fuck! So good, love. So fucking good. You’re going to make me come again, baby.” 

He moaned loudly—practically begging for it—wanting nothing more than for her to come on his fingers and tongue. With his name falling from her lips once more, she hurtled over the cliff he’d been working her towards, her back lifting completely off the bed as she came for him. Colin slowed his fingers as he saw her through to the other side, languorously licking up any trace of her arousal until her body melted into the comforter and he felt a tug on his hair. 

“C’mere, baby,” she demanded softly, whining as his fingers slipped from her and pulling him up the bed to hover over her once more. This time, he didn’t hesitate to offer her his fingers, letting her suck her arousal from them as she moaned and closed her eyes contentedly. When she released them, he brought his mouth to hers immediately for a kiss that could only be described as feral as he sucked her tongue greedily into his mouth. As they broke away breathless and panting into each other’s mouths, Colin dropped his forehead to hers, staring into the eyes that had stolen his heart. Penelope’s hands roved over him, her fingers tracing shapes into his shoulders, arms, abdomen, and back as he caught his breath. He let his eyes drift closed as she threaded a hand into his waves, leaning into her touch as she gently massaged his scalp. 

“Colin?” Her sweet voice sounded and he promised himself he would never go a single day without hearing it.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” 

“I love you.” 

Colin’s eyes popped open and he peered down at her, finding her two blue pools shining in reflection of the words she’d just said. 

“I love you, Colin,” Pen repeated a moment later. “I think that I’ve loved you since the very beginning, as crazy as that sounds. But with every single message we sent over the last year, I fell deeper and deeper and I know we only just met today–”

Her speech was interrupted as Colin surged forward to capture her lips with his, leaving a smattering of kisses all over her face as she giggled underneath him. 

“I love you, too,” he murmured against her lips, kissing her one last time before he pulled back. “I don’t care that we just met in person, Penelope. I’m so head over heels in love with you, sweetheart. I have been for a while now and the only thing time will do is make me fall even further into love with you.”

“You love me?” she asked quietly, tears brimming her beautiful eyes that matched the ones in his. 

“I love you, Pen. So fucking much.”

She brought his lips back to hers and the salt from their tears mingled with her taste on Colin’s tongue, and he wasn’t sure he had ever been so happy before. One kiss turned into two turned into more and more. 

“Need you, baby,” she begged, snaking her hand between them. This time he didn’t stop her as she wrapped her hand around his achingly hard cock, swiping her thumb over his weeping tip and smearing his precum over his length as she pumped him a few times. 

“Fuck, Pen, that feels so good,” he moaned, closing his eyes as he tried to concentrate on not coming too quickly. 

“Make love to me, Colin. Please.”

Colin’s face softened at her words, the beautiful eyes she dreamed about appearing lost in her own as he leaned in and sucked her bottom lip gently before her tongue traced the seam of his lips silently begging her entry, which he did not hesitate to grant her as they deepened their kiss. It was soft and unhurried—a world away from the desperate devouring of each other they had done thus far, but no less filled with passion and somehow even louder in its declaration of their need.

Of their love—because Colin loved her back, loved her just as much as she loved him, and there was nothing that inspired more affection and desire in her than the knowledge that he was hers.

“You’re sure, love?” he murmured against her lips and she nodded in response, smiling back against him, this man who kept checking in on her when she had been the one who asked for him in the first place. In this hazy dream-turned-reality, she wasn’t sure she’d ever wanted anything more than she wanted Colin to make love to her right now.

“Yes, baby,” she whispered, weaving her fingers through the hair she had waited months to touch and tugging gently, relishing the sweet moan that left his lips. “I need you, Col. No more waiting. And I’m–I’m on birth control, and I’m clear. I haven’t been with anyone since I moved in.”

Penelope watched as recognition danced in his eyes, his face softening as he bit his lip.

“I’m clear, too. I’ve been tested, and I haven’t been with anyone since last December,” he offered before kissing her forehead.

“I don’t want anything between us,” she said, kissing across his jaw before whispering in his ear. “I don’t want any space between us anymore.”

“I don’t either, Pen,” he echoed back to her and she pressed a kiss to his nose, then another to his lips as he lined himself up at her entrance, looking into her eyes and waiting for her nod before he slowly sank into her, his gaze never leaving hers as they let out twin moans while she stretched around his cock. Penelope allowed herself a moment to realize that she had, of course, been right all along that the man she’d been falling in love with was not only thoughtful and funny, but ridiculously gorgeous and well-endowed in a way that made her mouth water as she finally felt him, big and hard and glorious inside her. Leaning down to kiss her, he buried himself to the hilt, stopping when fully seated as she gasped and dug her fingers into his biceps as she adjusted to him.

“Fuck, Colin, you’re so big, baby,” she whimpered in appreciation before he sucked her earlobe, grazing it with his teeth and failing to hide his obvious groan at her praise. “You feel so good.”

“You’re perfect,” he whispered and sent a shiver throughout her body as she enjoyed his praise right back, never wanting to take for granted the sound of his voice in her ear now that she had it. “A fucking goddess, love.”

“Move, Col,” she whispered, and he didn’t waste a moment in giving into her request, dragging himself out until only his tip remained before thrusting back into her, stars clouding her vision as he filled her again, as she committed every inch of him to memory.

“Fuck, fuck you feel so good,” he murmured, beginning to pant when she gripped his ass and squeezed before lifting her hips to his, meeting him thrust for thrust as they found a rhythm together, their joint pace quickening to match their need for one another. In sync in the way only those who truly knew each other could be despite having met face to face for the first time little more than an hour ago–their hearts, their minds, their souls knew each other deeply. “This might not last long.”

Penelope let out a giggle as they continued lavishing one another with their attention and affection, watching the sparkle in his eye as he grinned back at her, warming her with how fun this was, how lighthearted and them it was while being so heated and deep—also them. 

“Kiss me,” she exhaled, and he leaned into her once more, their lips and teeth clashing as a prelude to their tongues dancing messily with each other, too lost in the moment to remember the right steps as they climbed further and further.

“Love you,” he confessed once more into her skin as their thrusts became erratic, their breathing shallow. “Wanted this for so long.”

“Love you, baby,” she panted, tugging on his hair before bringing her hands to his cheeks, willing her eyes to stay open and locked with his. She had dreamed of this so many times, her fantasies filled with bits and pieces of him; now that she finally had all of him, she could not bear to look away, to miss a moment of his care, his desire, his pleasure. His piercing gaze confirmed for her that he must feel the same, his eyes opening again to meet hers quickly each time they fluttered shut. “I’m so close, Col. Come with me.”

“Oh I will, Pen,” he said, and she could not suppress the giggle that mixed with her moan, the delight that mixed with her ecstasy. “Where, love?”

“Inside me,” she whispered without hesitation as she stroked the furrow in his brow with her thumb, unable to help but notice the way his eyes darkened even more at her request. “Want all of you, baby.”

He let out a delicious moan and caught her lower lip between his teeth just as his hips stuttered and he lost himself; the feeling of his mouth on hers and his hot seed within her sent her over the edge right after him, his name falling from her lips over and over again as they held each other tightly, taking their time coming back to earth together. Because time was something they had—all the time they wanted. She was his, and he was hers. As she regained herself she saw him staring at her, studying her face with a soft look on his own.

“What?” she asked as he twisted one of her curls around his finger, then dropped a kiss to the tip of her nose. She bit her lip and had no doubt she must be blushing as he smiled and ran the pad of his thumb over the apple of her cheek before she grabbed his wrist, bringing it to her lips to press an open-mouthed kiss against his pulse point.

“You’re really here,” he said, the light dancing in his eyes as she felt her own fill with tears—tears of joy, of relief. Memories of them, dreams of them, her thoughts and feelings swirling together and threatening to overwhelm her completely in their intensity if she did not just allow them to fall down her cheeks.

“Yeah,” she said, nodding and blinking through her tears as he brought his lips to the side of her nose, kissing each of the salty droplets away as they escaped. “You’re really here, too.”

He grinned and nodded before he kissed her again, stroking her chin with his fingers before pulling slowly out of her and away.

“Be right back, sweetheart,” he said as he rose from the bed and disappeared into the bathroom.

In all of her waking fantasies and deeply held dreams, she could never have imagined it would be this good, this sweet, this perfect. It was everything she had wanted, confirmation that her feelings had been real the whole time, that Colin was who she thought he was, that she hadn’t needed to see his face or hear his voice to fall in love—and neither had he. Now that she had him, she dreaded letting him go for even these few minutes.

He reappeared soon after, stopping to lean against the bathroom doorway and, in doing so, giving her the chance to take in the sight of him, her eyes drifting over every inch that she had been imagining for the past year before landing on the shimmering eyes she had already known, had already fallen in love with.

“Hey,” she said as she sucked her lip between her teeth; he did the same as his eyes roamed her body as he approached with a warm, wet cloth, cleaning their mixed arousal from between her legs before climbing into bed and pulling her into his side, pulling a blanket up over them and rubbing her arms. Penelope pressed her lips to his, kissing him twice, then hummed as he slid his hand along her jaw before backing away to rest his forehead against hers. 

“I need to talk to you about something,” he said, a small smile playing at his lips as he tugged her closer, his thumb tracing soothing circles along her waist. “I’m ending my contract early. I have one more assignment, and then I’m coming home.”

“You’re coming home?” She searched his face, her fingers grazing his chest on their way up to his cheek. He leaned into her touch before turning his face to kiss her palm.

“Mmhmm, in December,” he answered, his brow furrowing as he watched her, clearly nervous about her response. She could not imagine why he would think she would be anything but thrilled to have him home. “Would you–would you be okay with the apartment being ours?”

Not waiting a second, she peppered kisses across his cheek bones as he chuckled and tickled her under her ribs, pulling her on top of him and rubbing her back as she rested her chin on his chest, staring into his eyes.  It wasn’t a dream—he was here with her, and he was coming home to her soon.

“Yes, baby,” she said as she pressed a kiss over his heart, then to his lips once more, hoping he could feel how sure she was. “I’ve always thought of it as ours.”

“So have I,” he whispered, staring at her quietly before breaking out in a smile. “Is this crazy?”

“Yes,” she deadpanned, and he laughed, tilting his head back and leaving her the perfect opportunity to lean down and nip at his neck, sucking gently as he bucked his hips up into her. She smiled against his skin, loving how affected he was by her, loving how wild this was, loving him. “It’s beyond crazy, but it’s also perfect. We might have only met today, but I’ve known you for over a year, Colin. I’ve loved you for a year. I want this, Col.”

“I want this, too,” he said, his words so full of emotion there was no way to doubt him as he kissed each of her cheeks. “Have you redecorated our place at all? Want to make sure it feels like you.”

“I’ve combined my things with yours a little. Put my books beside yours on the bookshelf. Added a few coffee mugs. There’s a new blanket on our couch,” she shared as she ran her nails gently over the mark she had lovingly left on his neck before an idea struck. “Would you let me frame some of your work for the walls?”

Colin looked at her curiously, biting his lip as he shifted them back onto their sides to face each other, letting her rest her head on his bicep as their legs tangled. Penelope pressed a gentle kiss to his lips and let her hands settle on his chest between them while he ran his up and down her side, surely noticing the goosebumps he left in his wake.

“You would want my work on our walls?” His voice was tentative but hopeful, and it made her heart flutter with the realization that she hadn’t told him that she’d known him—in a way—long before they began talking. She needed him to know everything, to know that there was no part of him she was not enamored with.

“Colin, I love your work. Whenever your sister would send it around the office, I’d be worthless for the next hour, just losing myself in your photos. In the thoughtfulness of the composition, the warmth,” she whispered, placing a hand on his cheek as she kissed the tip of his nose. “It was always you. You’re so present in each one that I could feel you before I knew you. Everything you do is beautiful, Col.”

Running her fingers through the soft hair on his chest, Penelope watched as his cheeks and the tips of his ears turned pink with her praise. All of the words she had said were true and he deserved them, and she silently vowed to make sure he didn’t go another day without hearing them.

“I knew about you before you moved in, too,” he said sheepishly, surprising her with both his admission and the way he nipped at the skin beneath her ear as he gathered his next thoughts, the ones he whispered right into her ear. “Eloise has been talking about you for years, telling us stories about her assistant. Sweet, funny Penelope, with the strength and softness to calm my most hardheaded sister. When you sent me a message that first night, so formal, it made me laugh, because it felt so strange to be introduced like strangers when I had in some ways known you all along.”

“I wrote that first message eight times,” Penelope shared before collapsing in a fit of giggles, Colin following her before bringing his forehead back to hers and wrapping a curl around his finger. “So, December…does that mean–”

“I’ll be home before Christmas,” he interrupted, eyes bright and grin wide as he squeezed her hip.

“Really?” she asked and he nodded, wrapping his leg around both of hers to pull her in closer and drawing a giggle from her. “Can we go shopping together?”

“Only if you’re doing the wrapping,” he answered with a wink before his gaze drifted over her from her face to her chest, and Penelope was sure he was following the blush that was inevitable in reaction to his sweet recollection of their shared memory. “It’s not one of my skills, but I’m good for other things.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked teasingly. “Like what?”

“Hmm.” Lifting her chin to kiss her, he nipped his way down the column of her throat before soothing his path with his tongue. “I can make you hot chocolate. Everyone in the family says mine is the best. The most chocolatey.”

“Extra marshmallows?” she asked with a laugh that soon turned to a sigh as he sucked on her pulse point, her hands weaving into his hair to pull his face back up to look up at her, a smug expression on his face for being responsible for her distraction as she raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Obviously extra marshmallows,” he rolled his eyes and she kissed his forehead, noting the way his ears turned pink at her affection, even after all they had done this evening had far surpassed it. “My Pen will have all the marshmallows she desires.”

“Is this in exchange for wrapping paper only?” she mused. “What am I getting for the ribbon and bows?” 

Colin’s jaw dropped as he tickled her relentlessly, leaving her laughing and squirming in his arms. As his eyes locked on hers, he brought his mouth to her breast and swirled his tongue around her sensitive peak once, twice, three times, holding her firmly as her back arched and thrust her hips further into him, before suckling her nipple as she gripped his hair.

“Oh, Col,” she sighed, and he released her with a pop before moving to her mouth to kiss her gently, his hand moving to knead the breast he left behind.

“I’ll make it worth your while, love,” he murmured against her lips before pulling back to look in her eyes. Glancing toward the darkened windows, he seemed to remember himself and his manners once more. “Have you eaten yet? Did you want to go back downstairs?”

“I haven’t.” Penelope chuckled at how easily he switched topics, though both were about caring for her—but maybe he was hungry himself. She knew he must not have eaten yet either, having just arrived at the bar when they met, but she selfishly hoped he wouldn’t want to leave the bubble they were enjoying.  “But I don’t want to leave this bed tonight. We have some time to make up for.”

“Room service?” he asked with a grin, and she giggled and nodded before pushing him to his back, climbing on top of him and leaning down to kiss him as he squeezed her thighs. Tomorrow, they would leave the room and spend the day celebrating with his family—a family that would hopefully one day be her own. Tomorrow, they would laugh and drink and dance and talk with others.

But tonight belonged to them.

“Sounds perfect.”

“Honey, should we really be bothering your poor assistant this early?” Phil whispered into her ear as he wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her shoulder. 

“Penelope is more than just my assistant. She’s my best friend and my future sister-in-law if everything went according to plan,” Eloise muttered back, raising her hand to knock again on the door of the suite she’d booked for the woman her brother was head over heels for. “Ugh! What is taking them so long?”

“Them?” She turned to roll her eyes at her soon-to-be husband, and he kissed her on the nose before pulling back to peer down at her, a soft expression on his face that he typically reserved for the times he had to prevent his children—their children—from getting their hopes up. “El, you don’t even know that Colin is–”

“That Colin is what?” 

Eloise whipped her head back toward the door to find her favorite older brother—though she would never admit it—yawning as his gaze flitted between the two of them standing in the hallway. He was wearing one of the robes supplied by the hotel and his dark hair was sticking out in all directions. She chanced a glance at Phil to smirk at him, feeling quite victorious at the moment, squealing when he tickled her under her ribs in response and tucked her against his side before looking back at her brother. 

“Morning, Col. We were hoping to drive down to that little diner for pancakes with the kids before we have to start getting ready for the wedding. Your sister thought you and Penelope might want to join us, even though I told her it was way too–”

“I love pancakes,” a sweet and familiar voice sounded as the petite redhead popped out from behind Colin. Eloise watched in triumph as her brother kissed Penelope’s tangle of fiery curls as the woman wrapped her arms around his waist. They looked adorable standing there in their matching robes—disgustingly in love, but still adorable. 

“The lady has spoken,” Colin said as he turned back to them. “Give us twenty–” 

He was cut off by his own yelp of surprise and looked down at the woman in his arms—who was blinking up at him much too innocently—and Eloise bit back her laughter, certain Penelope had pinched him. After a silent exchange and a quick kiss, they glanced back at El and Phil. 

“Give us forty,” Colin tried again, and the girl in his arms smirked. “We’ll meet you in the lobby?”

“That’s perfect,” Phil nodded.

“See you then!” Eloise added, drawing Penelope’s eyes to hers for the first time. 

For a moment, her assistant looked nervous as she studied her face, obviously worried about her boss’ reaction to this development even though she must have realized by now that Eloise herself had orchestrated the entire thing. 

“I’m thrilled you’re here, Penelope. And even more so if this,” she gestured between the two of them, “means that I’ll no longer have to act as your liaison. It was like passing notes back and forth in middle school all over again.”

Her friend giggled and buried her face into Colin’s chest, her cheeks as red as his ears. 

“Goodbye, Eloise,” Colin deadpanned as he closed the door in the faces of his sister and best friend. Laughter from the suite echoed into the hallway as Phil laced his fingers through El’s and tugged her back down the hall. 

“I was right,” she gloated happily as they waited for the elevator. 

Her fiancé hummed as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him, resting his forehead on hers as she linked her hands around his neck. “El, honey?”

“Hmm?”

“Was this whole elopement just an elaborate scheme to get them together?”

“It was more of a two birds, one stone situation.”

“Oh?”

“First, I’ve been trying to make this happen between them since basically the day Penelope started as my assistant and I realized they were perfect for each other. They just needed a push—or ten—in the right direction.”

“Of course,” he agreed with a grin. “And second?”

“The more important one,” she smiled. “I didn’t want to spend another day not being your wife.”

“I love you,” he murmured against her lips as he kissed her. 

And Eloise was certain today would be the best day of her life.