Brenda said. God bless you, Mom, Jack thought. Have all the horrifyingly kinky sex you want. I won’t say a word, as long as you’re safe and happy.He stared across the room, willing Penelope to meet his eyes. She glanced at him for a brief moment before she turned to her papers, shuffling them. It was the first time she’d looked at him in over an hour. He knew. He’d been watching her the entire time.What exactly had happened during that reading of Jane Eyre? As they’d spoken Charlotte Brontë’s words together, he’d felt somehow tied to her. Connected. At one point, he’d looked up from the book to see Penelope, a woman who’d seemed inconsequential upon first glance. Small. Quiet. Unassuming. But her lovely eyes had blazed with intelligence, stubbornness, and passion, especially as she’d read Jane’s words.Those eyes had bored into him like nothing he’d ever known. When they’d finished his passage and she’d begun to reach for the book he’d written, he’d found himself caught between fear and exhilaration.
