Elizabeth of East Hampton (For the Love of Austen #2)

Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

“Stubborn as shit,” Will cursed as he sped down the dark street, wondering how the hell anyone could find their way home on these back roads during the day, let alone someone on their own in the middle of the night.

It would have taken them two minutes to drive the distance. Maybe less. But Elizabeth Bennet insisted on walking for forty-five fucking minutes instead.

Why was he the only one watching out for this woman? Where was her family? It was maddening. He had never known anyone in his entire life who seemed so cavalier about their own personal safety. Didn’t she realize the reason so many true crime podcasts existed was because those crimes actually happened?

He cursed under his breath again.

The car windows were down, and he was hit with the smell of cool salt air mixed with the lingering scent of smoke from tonight’s fireworks. He hated feeling out of control. He spent most of his adult life working to avoid it. Problems were always carefully managed, potential issues swiftly mitigated. All to avoid this, a wild panic that clawed deep in his chest, the fear that if he lost that grasp, someone would get hurt.

This was the danger in paying Elizabeth Bennet too much attention, he thought, gripping the steering wheel harder. She wasn’t his problem to fix, especially now that she and Tristan Cole were… friends? Together? He shook his head. It didn’t matter. None of it did.

Cars still lined Lily Pond Lane when he returned, and the gate to the driveway was wide open. He hardly knew anyone at the party and wondered again how Charlie and his sisters had allowed it to get so out of control.

He stalked through the front door, past the few guests lounging on the couches. At the top of the stairs, Will threw open his bedroom door and slammed it shut, finally letting out a long breath.

After a minute his pulse slowed, and he made his way to the balcony doors. His room was on the quieter side of the house, so when he walked outside, all he could hear was the dull thump of the bass mingling with the waves crashing in the distance. He took another deep breath, willing his body to finally relax. Then he paused. There was someone out there with him.

He turned, and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he realized it was Charlie, slumped against the wall with an unopened bottle of tequila in his hand.

“What are you doing?” Will asked.

“Debating if I should pick up an old habit,” Charlie mumbled.

Charlie had never been a heavy drinker—he could barely get through two beers without passing out. The only time Will had seen him touch tequila was in college after he broke up with his high school girlfriend. After two shots, Charlie spent the rest of the night with his head over the toilet.

“Where’s Jane?” Will asked.

“Downstairs.”

“So why are you up here?”

“I needed some space.”

Will leaned against the railing, waiting for him to continue.

After a long moment, Charlie finally did. “I told her I loved her.”

Will tried not to react, steeling his expression so as not to give away the fact that he had predicted this course of events the second they’d met Jane Bennet. The only real question now was how bad the inevitable fallout would be.

“And?”

“She left,” Charlie said quietly, staring up at the dark sky.

Will blinked. “What?”

“We were sitting on the beach, talking. I told her I wanted to take her away for a weekend, someplace romantic. In my head, that was where I was going to tell her I loved her. Make it special, you know? Then the fireworks started and it was perfect. So I said it, right then. I said I love you and she just… stared at me. Then she stood up, said she had to go to the bathroom, and left.”

A bit of tension released from Will’s muscles. This was new. He had expected that Charlie’s proclamations of love would be returned, followed by the usual requests for support, ones that would quickly evolve from emotional to financial. But this… this was a surprise. Almost a relief.

“I know what you’re thinking, Will,” Charlie continued. “But I promise you, I have never felt like this about anyone. Not even close.”

“All right. Then what do you need?”

“I don’t know,” Charlie replied. Somewhere on the other side of the yard, the DJ switched tracks and the bassline became deeper, more frenetic. Charlie groaned, his head falling forward. “I need to think, and I can’t do it here.”

Will nodded. “I’ll get rid of the DJ. Shut down the party.”

“No, I mean here . East Hampton. If she doesn’t feel the same way, I can’t…” Charlie looked up at him. “What should I do?”

Will knew what his friend was really asking: Help me out of this mess .

Like most people in his life, Charlie was all too aware of Will’s unique ability to compartmentalize almost every situation and see things clearly and objectively. Remaining in control at all times was a trait that defined him; an innate skill that had been honed after his parents’ death. It was why the people he loved relied on him to fix problems that anyone else would find too overwhelming. He had done it for Charlie before, and he was ready and willing to do it again.

“You said it yourself. You need space,” Will stated. “We’ll head back to the city tomorrow.”

Charlie exhaled, the tension in his brows subsiding. “I just need a couple of weeks.”

Will nodded, even as his mind rebuffed the idea. Charlie had fallen hard for Jane Bennet. It would take him a lot longer than a couple of weeks to get over it.

“Thanks, Will,” Charlie continued.

Will didn’t reply, just gave him a heavy pat on the shoulder.

He wouldn’t admit it to Charlie, but they both needed to get out of East Hampton. All the distractions were pulling at them like the ocean’s riptide. If Will wanted to remain in control, they needed space. Getting back to the city was the first step. Now he just had to find a reason to keep them there.

Will woke up early the next morning thankful the house was finally quiet. In the hours that followed his conversation with Charlie, his mind had been on overdrive. By the time he woke up, he had formulated a plan. Will got out of bed and grabbed his phone, scrolling down until he found the contact he needed. After a few rings, he heard a familiar voice on the other end.

“It’s six a.m.,” George Knightley said in greeting.

“It’s Will.”

“Yeah, you don’t have to say that each time you call. Your name pops up. There’s even a lame picture.” There was the sound of shuffling, then George sighed. “You know, some people sleep in the day after a big holiday.”

“You’re up, though.”

“Now I am. Everything okay?”

“Fine. How’s the city?”

George laughed. “Too hot. But you and I both know you’re not calling for a weather report.”

Will released a deep breath. “I think we’re falling behind on the Wentworth deal. If we want this next stage to go through before Q4, we need to work out the logistics.”

“Are you worried about something?”

“No.”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

Will frowned. “There are a lot of moving parts on this one. And considering we hammered out the deal that put Freddie on the board at Blaxton Agriculture in the first place, it’s in our best interest to make the first acquisition he recommends foolproof.”

George sighed. “All right. I’ll talk to Freddie about flying out from LA. Let’s plan for an in-person meeting midweek.”

“Great. Call me when you have something in the books.”

Will hung up and released a relieved sigh. Part one of the “get over Jane Bennet” plan was complete.