In reality, he just wanted to go home, relax, and have a beer. His last shift at work hadn’t been a good one. He’d slept all morning into the afternoon, trying to recover from yesterday’s grueling day.

But Emmett, his brother, was working late, and Deja insisted she needed those papers before tomorrow, but she was cooking and couldn’t leave the house. Why she couldn’t ask Emmett, her husband, who would gladly swing by the office and pick it up, was beyond him.

Sometimes it was easier to let it go. It wouldn’t take him more than twenty minutes out of his routine to grab her stuff. Then he could veg out in front of the TV with a cold one and decompress.

Pulling into the parking lot where Emmett rented a building for his landscaping business, he parked right next to a small, red vehicle.

Odd.

It was late. Almost eight o’clock and all the businesses were closed for the day. No other vehicles should’ve been around.

Of course, that wasn’t what he found odd.

The car itself looked weirdly familiar. But he couldn’t pinpoint why.

Shaking his head, afraid he was losing his mind from the tiring day, he got out of the truck, grabbed his spare key, and swiftly made an entrance.

He didn’t bother turning on the lights since Deja said the stack of papers she needed would be sitting on the corner of her desk. Except when he walked the few steps from the front door to her desk, he didn’t see a damn thing.

A clean desk. Obsessively clean. Nothing out of place. The computer was shut off. All the pens and pencils were sitting in a white cup next to the keyboard, a small notepad next to it. Nothing else littered the desk.

Deja was a neat freak when it came to her workspace. She kept everything orderly and very organized. So if she said the papers would be on the corner of her desk, they should’ve been.

Maybe she meant Emmett’s desk. He turned around and paused when he saw a splash of yellow light peeking out from underneath Emmett’s office door.

Shit.

Someone broke in.

Probably the same someone who parked right in front of the building.

Were they that dumb? Why would they park right in front of the building and break in?

And how did they break in? The door was locked. No windows appeared to be broken.

Plunk!

Ethan took a step forward when he heard the muffled sound of something falling.

He knew he should call the police, but he didn’t know how long the suspect had been in the building and they could walk out of the office at any moment. Better if he caught them off guard instead of the other way around.

Shoving his keys in his pocket, he grabbed an umbrella from the cute umbrella holder Sophie, his cousin Austin’s wife, made out of old pieces of wood, then wrapped his hands around it with a tight grip. He might not be a cop, but he was a firefighter, and he could hold his own. The police department was right next to the fire department, and he worked out all the time with some of the other cops. He knew how to take down a suspect.

He’d restrain the perp, then call the cops.

Heart pounding a fraction, he grabbed the door handle and swung it open, the umbrella high in the air.

The umbrella arched down.

A scream rented the air.

Then a hard object hit him squarely in the face, right in the cheek, almost hitting his left eye.

“Shit.” The umbrella immediately fell from his hand as he covered his face with his arm.

“Ethan?”

He pressed the back of his hand lightly to his cheek, checking to see if he could feel any blood. Whatever it was that hit him had hit hard. He stared, dumbfounded, at the woman standing a few feet away.

Well, damn.

That’s why the red car looked familiar.

And not in a good way.

“Penelope.” Just saying her name sent a shiver rushing down his spine.

“What are you doing here?”

His brows rose in surprise, which in turn made him cringe from the ache in his cheek. “Me? What the hell are you doing here? How did you get in?”

She pointed a long finger at him, her nails painted a bright, shiny red. “How did you get in here?”

“With a key.” He patted his pocket, then reached up and rubbed his cheek. It hurt. He could honestly use that cold one right about now, and not to drink, but to press it against his wound.

Her expression changed from confused anger to concerned worry in a flash. Within three large steps, she stood right in front of him and cupped his cheek and tilted his head.

Like she had some right to touch him.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. You startled me whipping open the door like that, and I threw the first thing in my reach.”

Ethan tried to control his breathing with her soft hands on his face. Oh, the delicious memories of her hands on other parts of his body. He couldn’t stand the concern in her eyes—as if she actually cared. Averting his gaze, he caught sight of the object she threw at him. A paperweight in the shape of a baseball. Round and heavy.

Damn heavy since his cheek still throbbed with pain.

“It’s starting to bruise a little. Are you okay? Maybe I should take you to the hospital.”

Enough of this. He didn’t want her fake concern.

Steeling his spine, he found the strength to back away from her touch. He was surprised he hadn’t been able to when she’d first touched him. Her hands drifted off his cheek. And damn if it didn’t piss him off that he missed her touch immediately.

“I’m fine. It doesn't hurt.”

She rolled her eyes, then bent down and picked up the paperweight, setting it back on Emmett’s desk. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Whatever. He wasn’t going to admit it hurt like hell.

“What are you doing here? I’d like to know.”

Her gaze narrowed on him like she was deciphering whether to continue to beat around the bush or tell him the truth. “My friend asked me to pick up some papers for her. Nothing nefarious going on. What are you doing here?”

He was going to kill Deja slowly and painfully. He didn’t care that she was married to his brother, he didn’t care that he lived with her brother, Dare, and they’re the best of friends. None of that mattered because Deja set this up. Did she know that he and Penelope knew each other from high school? Or was she simply trying to play matchmaker?

It was, unfortunately, something she and Sophie enjoyed doing the last four months since they both tied the knot, living in married bliss. They thought he and Dare needed to be just as happy. Well, more so Deja than Sophie if he had to guess. He was about fed up with all these little tricks and games they kept playing on him and Dare. By the annoyed look Dare always gave his sister, he was sick of it as well.

“Same thing, apparently. The mysterious papers should’ve been on the desk out there,” Ethan said with a harsh tone, pointing a hand in the direction of Deja’s desk.

Oh, man, he was trying so hard to keep his cool, to hold back his anger, because he didn’t get angry often. But seeing her…

Penelope…

It was too much to bear.

Penelope’s eyes glanced toward the door, then back to him. “You know Deja?”

Wow. Was she that clueless? He almost thought for a moment Penelope was in on the whole ordeal because she sure liked to play games in high school.

Of course, he didn’t want to think about the past.

“She’s married to Emmett.”

Penelope’s mouth opened then closed, like a fish gulping for air. “I just moved in next door to her. I haven’t met her husband yet. I had no idea.”

“Well, now you know.” And now he knew he wouldn’t be visiting Emmett as often as long as Penelope was their neighbor.

“You’re still mad at me.” Her brows pleated in confusion, her eyes filling with pain. “I guess I made the right decision, then. It seems you still haven’t grown up.”

“Oh, I grew up. I learned not to trust certain women. The kind who loves red and says shit they don’t really mean.”

“That is—”

“I don’t want to hear it.” He shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out his keys. “And do us both a favor and tell Deja that her little plan to get us together is a lost cause.”

He slammed the office door on his way out just because he could. The sound reverberated around the tiny office.

Penelope Justice.

The only woman to ever capture his heart.

The only woman to ever destroy his heart.

Hearts and sloppy kisses…

Some people say you never forget your first love.

Well, Ethan worked hard every day to forget Penelope Justice even existed.

Copyright @ 2020 Amanda Siegrist.

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