The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself novel Chapter 358

Penelope thought Theodore was overreacting, but a handsome man, especially one like him, deserved a little coddling. She ran to catch up, took his hand, and pulled him toward a small patch of trees.

“It’s a shortcut!”

He didn’t question it and followed her into the woods, where there was, of course, no path at all. He let out a cold snort and turned to leave, but Penelope stopped him, her voice suddenly a coy, breathy whisper. “Oh, please don’t… what if someone sees us?”

“You said no one was here.”

“But I’m just a girl… I’m scared.”

Penelope was in full performance mode, her voice dripping with mock vulnerability. Her acting was so convincing that it startled a young couple hidden nearby.

“Did you hear that?”

“Sounds like someone else had the same idea as us.”

“Be quiet.”

“I bet I’m better than that guy over there.”

“Stop it!”

Penelope froze, not having expected to actually find another couple. She cleared her throat, about to drag Theodore out of there. But in the next moment, he had her pinned against a tree trunk.

“He thinks he’s better than me?” he murmured, his voice low.

“Ahem, he’s just bragging.”

Theodore leaned in and bit her lip, hard. “So, tell me. Am I good?”

“Of… of course.”

“How good?”

A series of scorching images flashed through her mind. Her heart began to race, her breathing growing heavy. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her lips brushing against the sensitive skin of his throat.

“You want to know?”

“I do.”

The word vibrated through his throat, a deep, intoxicating rumble that was unbearably sexy. A wave of heat washed over her. She took his hand and guided it under her coat and sweater, pressing it against the small of her back.

“By the way, about you taking Norton to that fight…”

“Don’t even bring it up.” How dare he try to settle the score after all that? The nerve.

“Next time, leave something like that to me,” he said, his tone serious again.

Penelope looked at him. This man was already so strong, yet he always seemed to feel it wasn’t enough. He tried to be a fortress for everyone, but he must get tired too. He must want to rest sometimes. Who was there for him to lean on?

“My shoulders are pretty strong, you know,” she said softly. “You can lean on me once in a while.”

Theodore smiled. “Okay.”

When they arrived at the Johnson manor, the sound of traditional opera music drifted from the house. Inside, they found Mr. Johnson reclining in a rocking chair, humming along to the music from a vintage radio.

On a day when Norton had gone missing and Mrs. Stapleton had had a breakdown—a day the Stapleton family had been thrown into chaos—Mr. Johnson was here, utterly carefree. The sight made Theodore’s face darken instantly.

Penelope tried to intervene, but it was too late. He strode over to Mr. Johnson, snatched the radio from the table, and smashed it on the floor.

With a sharp crack, the music died.