Penelope’s frown withered for a short second replaced by a simple smile. “Well,” she looked around the boardwalk before back up at him. “Where is home?” Her hand jetted up to her forehead, shielding her eyes from the afternoon sun that rested just about them. “I could help you,” she started. As soon as the words left her mouth, her eyes widened, “that is if you want my help.”
“Seattle,” Holden responds mechanically, squinting through his sunglasses. “Could we –– ah, could we talk about this somewhere else?”
“You wouldn’t be able to do much.” He almost laughs. His emotions are whirling, uncontrollable, and suddenly he’s in a much better mood than he was two seconds ago. Then a thought occurs to him, and he’s back to his pit. “Why?”
