“No,” Jake said. “No fucking way. This is an office, Lincoln, she’s our colleague. HR or no HR, you can’t just go around kissing her.”

Lincoln frowned. “It’s not a romantic kiss. It’s just like when the guy over in the booze section brings in whiskey to taste-test. We’re experimenting. And she can say no.”

“But—”

“No, it’s okay,” Penelope said, holding out a hand to stop Jake’s objections. “Lincoln’s right. It doesn’t have to be weird.”

What the hell are you doing? This is so not you.

Penelope ignored the voice and stood up.

She was comfortable with who she was—really. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t a tiny part of her that was tired of being one of the guys. And that same part of her was doing cartwheels because a handsome man was offering to kiss her—no, more important, he was looking at her as someone who deserved to be kissed.

No way she was going to turn that down, meaningless or not.

“Okay,” Lincoln said moving closer. “This is good. Here’s option one.”

“You can’t be serious,” Cole said, his voice pissed.

Penelope glanced at him, surprised by the sharpness in his tone. His face matched his tone—incredulous and maybe a little…angry?

“Ignore him,” Lincoln said, drawing her attention back to him. “Ready for this, darling?”

“Um—”

Lincoln’s hand closed over her face, then gently but strongly…and wow, okay…she understood what he’d meant by the head hold. It was nice.

Lincoln’s mouth closed over hers, and Penelope’s eyes fluttered closed, as she assessed.

It was also…nice. Not exactly toe-curling but…nice.

He pulled back.

“No?” he asked. “How about this one?”

His hands moved to her shoulders, tugging her forward again. Penelope’s eyes closed once more, wondering if this one would be a bit more, well, exciting, but his lips never touched hers.

Instead, he released her altogether.

She opened her eyes in confusion.

Cole was leaning across her desk, his hand on Lincoln’s shoulder, having clearly just shoved the other man away from her.

“Get it together,” Cole said. “Jake’s right, you can’t just go around macking on female employees.”

“Macking on,” Jake muttered from behind her. “Really?”

“It’s a fucking lawsuit waiting to happen,” Cole growled.

“Uh-huh,” Lincoln said, crossing his arms. “You’ve been an employee less than a month, and you’re worried about Internal Affairs?”

“Fuck no, I’m worried about her,” Cole said, pointing at Penelope.

She couldn’t help it. A laugh bubbled up then, and Cole gave her an incredulous look.

“Sorry,” she said, trying to keep her face straight, and failing. “It’s just…you look a lot like my dad right now.”

Cole’s mouth dropped open just as Jake let out a muffled laugh and Lincoln put a fist in front of his mouth, blue eyes twinkling in amusement.

“Your dad?” Cole said, sounding horrified.

Lincoln glanced at his watch. “Shit. Malone. We’re late for that meeting.”

“What meeting?” Jake asked.

Lincoln gave him a pointed look as he grabbed his notebook and pen. “Fine, you want to stay here and watch this go down, be my guest—”

“Oh, that meeting?” Jake said. “Right. We’re late.”

“Thanks for the kiss,” Penelope called playfully after Lincoln. “I think head-holding is definitely—”

She broke off when she saw Alex Cassidy standing in the doorway. His expression gave away nothing, but there was no way he hadn’t heard her loudly thanking her colleague for a kiss.

Penelope felt a blush rise to her cheek as their boss looked around at the four of them.

“We were, ah, doing some research,” Lincoln said, scooting by Cassidy.

Jake followed Lincoln, holding up his left hand innocently as he did so. “Didn’t touch her. I’m married.”

Cassidy narrowed his eyes at the two men before shifting his attention back to Penelope, then to Cole.

Then he merely rolled his eyes and walked away.

Penelope blew out a sigh of relief as she slumped back into her chair. “Whew. Do you think it’s always like this around here?”

“Don’t sound so hopeful,” Cole muttered grumpily.

“Oh, come on,” she said. “Like you wouldn’t have done the same in Lincoln’s position. I see the way you flirt with the receptionist every morning.”

“Flirt with is different than make out with,” he said, hands braced on the desk as he loomed over her.

Penelope rolled her eyes. “It was one five-second kiss. Hardly a makeout session.”

“So you didn’t like it?”

“I didn’t say that.”

His eyebrow lifted in challenge.

“Well, you interrupted,” she huffed. “Maybe if he’d gotten to the other methods of kissing, I would have gotten a little more excited.”

Cole looked at her for several seconds before standing up straight. “I don’t think so.”

“Why, because I’m not capable of passion?” she asked, her voice sounding more defensive than she’d intended.