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

Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

“Okay, tell me what you think of this one,” Kitty said, leaning across the bakery’s counter to hand Lizzy a small piece of oddly colored pastry.

Lizzy hesitated. “Is it supposed to be that green?”

Her sister nodded eagerly.

They had both been there for hours while the latest summer rainstorm raged outside, keeping almost all customers away. Kitty’s laptop was open on the counter beside her and she had been back and forth to the kitchen so many times, Lizzy had almost asked what she was up to, but she was too busy trying to forget the night before. Still, the memory managed to pop up at the most inopportune moments, making her cringe. God, had she really endured an entire evening with Will Darcy and his insufferable aunt and not come away with one new bit of information about Charlie?

“Go ahead. Try it,” Kitty said, eyeing the seaweed-colored blob in Lizzy’s palm. “It’s matcha and almond butter.”

Lizzy braced herself as she took a bite. She had barely closed her mouth before she gagged.

Kitty’s expression deflated. “That bad?”

“Are those ginger crystals in the icing?” Lizzy asked, forcing herself to swallow.

“I was experimenting.”

“With muffin flavors?”

“No. With cakes,” Kitty said.

“But we don’t sell cakes.”

“That’s the point,” Kitty replied, eyes lighting up again. “Last year, cake sales represented twenty-five percent of the bakery market in the U.S. alone, and we don’t sell any! Just muffins and breads and the same old, same old. We’re missing an entire revenue stream.”

Lizzy discreetly threw the rest of the cake in the bin beneath the register. “Have you talked to Dad about any of this?”

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ve been busy.”

“Working on your top secret business plan?” Lizzy asked, smiling.

“It’s not top secret,” Kitty replied, even as she closed her laptop. “I just want my ideas to be perfect and organized before I show anyone. Besides, Dad only listens to you when it comes to the bakery.”

“That’s not true,” Lizzy said. “You suggested those new recyclable cups for the coffee.”

Kitty rolled her eyes. “Cups? Spare me. This place might as well be yours.”

Lizzy tried to brush off the comment, but it snagged someplace deep in her chest. Suddenly Birdie’s words from the night before roared back to life.

I’m jealous of you being able to just work at your family bakery and never having to think about it .

It had hurt, not only because she said it out loud, but that she was right. Lizzy never had to think about it, and neither did anyone else. Everyone took for granted that she was the Bennet sister who would take all of this over, so much so, they had started to assume it was what she wanted.

Except that wasn’t true. Will hadn’t.

You don’t decide to be a foreign affairs journalist just so you can stay in one place forever.

Lizzy had wanted to answer him, to say he was right, even though she hated to admit it. But it felt too honest. She had already revealed too much as it was. She wasn’t sure now if the regret was much better.

“What’s wrong?” Kitty asked.

Lizzy paused. “What do you mean?”

“You have that weird wrinkle between your eyebrows,” she said, pointing to Lizzy’s face. “You only have that when you’re stressed about something.”

“I’m not stressed, and I have no wrinkles,” Lizzy replied, batting her hand away. She hoped it sounded convincing.

Apparently it didn’t, because Kitty’s expression turned stricken. “Is it that bad?”

Lizzy knew what she meant. Bennet Bakery looked like it was back to its former pre–tropical storm glory, but they hadn’t truly recovered. “There’s still a lot of damage. And the insurance company is pushing back on a lot of the claims, so we don’t have the funds to cover some expenses. And with the summer ending soon…” Lizzy shrugged.

“It’s going to be okay, though, right? I mean, we have insurance, so…”

Her sister’s voice trailed off, but the question was there in the silence. Is the bakery going to survive this? Lizzy had been asking herself the same question every day since she’d deferred her enrollment to Columbia to help keep it afloat. Yes, her father looked better than he had in those weeks following his stroke, but it was hard to tell if it was a full recovery, let alone if a full recovery was possible. And even if it was, would it be enough? Would anything? Lizzy almost wanted to laugh.

Kitty’s expression stopped her. Despite the fact that it was like a second home to them, no one in the Bennet family thought of the bakery as more than a source of income. At least, that’s what Lizzy had always assumed. But now, as Kitty’s face grew more anxious with each moment of silence that passed, she wondered if that assessment was true.

Lizzy forced a smile. “It’s going to be okay, Kitty. I promise.”

The words felt hollow, but it didn’t matter. Kitty didn’t seem to notice as she relaxed.

“Why don’t you leave early?” Lizzy offered. “No one else is coming in with all this rain. You can take the truck. I’ll lock up and have Piper pick me up before her shift.”

Kitty’s eyes lit up. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Just flip off the open sign on your way out.”

Her sister didn’t have to be told twice. She grabbed her bag and laptop, then maneuvered her way around the counter toward the kitchen. A moment later, Lizzy heard the back door slam shut, and then silence.

The rain made a steady cadence on the roof above as Lizzy made her way to the kitchen, too, and began cleaning up the mess her sister had left in her wake. Sealing up the bag of flour, wiping down the cutting boards, sorting the tins. There was a rhythm to it, one that calmed her mind for the first time all day.

Then the bell above the front door rang out through the bakery.

Damn it .

“Sorry, we’re closed,” Lizzy said as she stuck her head out the kitchen doorway.

Will Darcy was standing in the middle of the room, taking off the hood of his black rain jacket, which only made his blue eyes more vibrant.

“Hi,” she said, her gaze darting behind him to see who else was there. But the threshold was empty. “We’re closed.”

“You mentioned that,” he replied, unzipping his rain jacket and folding it over one of the nearby chairs. How his navy blue T-shirt and jeans managed to stay completely dry made no sense.

“Right, well, hopefully you remember where the door is, too,” she said, hiding the sting of the words behind a plastic smile.

He didn’t reply, just stood there, staring at her.

I don’t have time for this , she thought. She grabbed a few pie boxes from the counter and carried them through the door to the kitchen.

Her heart was thundering in her chest as she dropped the boxes on the long steel island. God, what was wrong with her? All she had to do was finish cleaning up the kitchen and eventually he would leave.

With newfound resolve, she turned around, only to slam into a tall, broad figure looming over her.

She yelped only a second before realizing it was Will, standing there with the rest of the pie boxes from the front room in his hands.

“What the hell are you doing?” Lizzy asked.

He ignored her, placing the boxes down next to the others as he surveyed the empty kitchen. “You’re here alone? Is that safe?”

“Why, are you worried about tall blond-haired men in raincoats coming in and harassing me?”

“I’m serious.”

“Me, too,” she said. “The kitchen is for employees. Customers belong out front.”

“I thought you said you were closed.”

“I am. I mean, I did. We are. I—” She closed her eyes to regain her composure. He was standing too close; she couldn’t think straight. “You can leave now.”

He didn’t move. “I need to talk to you.”

Her stomach flipped at his tone, the octave so low it felt almost intimate. “I’m pretty sure we covered everything last night, Will.”

“We didn’t.”

She lifted her chin. “Oh really? Then what’s the problem?”

The line of his brow hardened as he took a step toward her. “The problem is…”

His voice dropped off as his head fell forward and his hands went to his hips. The air felt charged, and she was suddenly aware that they were alone together in a windowless room with the smells of sweet baked bread lingering in the air.

He sighed, but it was another moment before he looked up, glaring at her from under his brow.

“You,” he finally murmured.

She blinked. “What?”

“You distract me,” he said, each syllable articulated so they felt sharp and heavy.

She narrowed her eyes on him. “Is this a joke?”

Confusion flashed across his face. “Excuse me?”

“I could have sworn you just went out of your way to come into my bakery while I’m working to tell me that I distract you .”

A muscle in his jaw ticked as he stared at her. “Are you mocking me?”

There it was again. That tone. Warm and low, vibrating down to her core. She tried to ignore it as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Depends. Did you only come here to insult me?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then why are you here?”

He cursed under his breath, closing his eyes for a moment like she was the one trying his patience. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know,” she repeated slowly.

“Yes. And that’s the problem,” he said through gritted teeth. “You distract me so I can’t think straight. I’m not even supposed to be here right now. I should be in the city, dealing with work, but instead I’m here. With you. There are a thousand other things I need to be thinking about every day, but all I think about is you.”

The words felt like they were reverberating in the air, hitting some deep part of her chest so she felt them before her brain even processed what they were.

A moment passed, then her mouth fell open. “But… you hate me.”

He stared at her from under the hard line of his brow. “I don’t hate you.”

She lifted her chin, determined not to look away as her breath hitched. “Well, I hate you.”

She meant for the words to come out cold and biting, but her voice ended up breathless, almost like a whisper. He heard it, too, and his eyes darkened.

“I don’t believe you,” he said.

“I don’t care.”

His gaze traveled across her face, as if looking for another tell.

Then he took a step forward. “Then tell me to leave again.”

They were so close now that she could feel his breath on her cheeks. For a second she thought he would pull back, let her go. And a realization shuddered through her pulse: she didn’t want him to.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she whispered as her eyes darted to his mouth.

His blue eyes flared with something white-hot. She was about to speak again, more words already forming on her tongue, but his kiss cut her off, hungry and deep and clouding her mind before she could recall what she was even going to say. She didn’t even try. The kiss was too good, too all-consuming. All she could focus on was the feel of his tongue sliding into her mouth, the smell of sandalwood and leather and salt overwhelming her senses as he pressed his body against hers.

His hand was cradling her jaw, angling her face as he deepened the kiss, and a guttural moan escaped her lips. She should have been embarrassed. She should have already pushed him away. But instead her arms found their way around his neck, pulling him closer.

The action made him groan, and suddenly he was lifting her up to sit on the steel table, slotting himself between her legs. He moved against her, holding her as she arched into him. Their bodies were flush as he moved his hand behind her head to grip her thick red hair. His other hand moved down her side, wrapping around her thigh so tightly she gasped and ran her fingers down his back. Suddenly, it was frenetic as they groped each other, every kiss more desperate than the one before.

“What are you doing to me?” he breathed against her lips.

Her head fell back, allowing his mouth to travel down her jaw to her neck. Something had snapped, and she no longer had control over her body. Her skin felt hot and alive, and it was so overwhelming that she almost didn’t hear as he continued.

“I hate this,” he murmured against the shell of her ear, his voice barely above a growl. “I hate how much I need this…”

The words rang in her head, cold and hard. His lips came up to meet hers again, but she leaned back, avoiding his kiss. “What did you just say?”

He blinked. “What?”

She pushed him away from her, and he allowed it, but only enough to open a few inches between them. “You just said you hate this.”

He kept both hands splayed on the counter on either side of her hips as his brow furrowed. “No. I said I hate how much I need this.”

“And you don’t hear how insulting that is?”

“What, the fact that I hate feeling out of control?” His blue eyes narrowed and that muscle in his jaw twitched again. “That I’m so distracted by you that I can barely function? Do you think that’s a choice?”

The words hit her chest, stealing her breath for a moment. She didn’t want this, either, she knew that, but hearing it out loud felt like a deep cut where she was most vulnerable.

She let out a short, dry laugh. “Wow, Will. You really know how to make a girl feel special.”

“I’m trying to be honest.”

“God, I hate that,” she said, shaking her head. “I hate when people say something cruel but dress it up as truth. Being honest doesn’t excuse you for being a self-serving asshole, Will.”

“Would you rather that I lied?”

“Isn’t that what you’ve been doing anyway?”

He reeled back. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Where is Charlie?” she exclaimed, her arms flying out at her sides. “He tells Jane he loves her and then he just leaves? You’re seriously going to keep pretending like you don’t know what happened?”

Will frowned. “You want to know what happened? I’ll tell you. Charlie follows a predictable pattern. He falls for someone, he gets hurt, and he looks to me to fix it. So I did. After what happened on the Fourth, he wanted to go back to the city. I made sure he stayed there. The further away he was from Jane, the faster he’d be able to move on. He was heartbroken.”

“So was Jane!” Lizzy’s voice rang through the kitchen, reverberating off the metal trays and cement walls. “And if he really loved her so much, he would have stuck around to realize that.”

“He left because she didn’t feel the same way.”

Lizzy’s mouth fell open. “Don’t you dare blame my sister when leaving is all you people do.”

He stilled. “What?”

“You, Charlie—all of you come out here looking for a change, but end up acting exactly the same way! You find a local who keeps you distracted for the summer so you don’t have to think about how boring your lives are back in the city. Then September rolls around and you go back to those boring lives because none of this was real anyway, right? Just part of the vacation.”

He leaned forward again, glaring at her from under his brow. “You don’t know me.”

“Oh, I know exactly who you are. You’re the man who took time out of his day to come to my bakery to tell me I was an inconvenience. You’re the man who promised to help his friend who had nothing, just to turn around and take it away the minute you felt like it.”

Will’s back straightened, and his hands went to his hips. “Excuse me?”

“Tristan Cole. Ring a bell? He told me everything.”

“Tristan?” He looked genuinely shocked. “What the hell does he have to do with this?”

“He’s working to get a music festival in East Hampton off the ground. Unless you decide to sabotage that, too?” She leaned forward, poking a finger at his chest. “Well, you might think all your money means you get to play with people like Tristan, but I’m not fucking disposable, Will. Neither is my sister. And we’re not interested in being tools used by people like you to work out your shit.”

He gently pushed her finger down to her lap. “I think that’s enough.” His eyes were cold again, his expression blank. Whatever fire had been burning there only a few minutes before was gone. “Apologies for my lapse in judgment. It won’t happen again.”

She slid off the table and stood in front of him with her arms crossed over her chest. Her lips were raw, her mind was enraged, and there were tears ready to explode, but she refused to let him see it. “Good. Now get the hell out of my bakery.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again, his jaw tightening. Then he turned and disappeared through the kitchen door. Lizzy stared at the empty space in front of her, listening to his footsteps, to the bell ring as the front door slammed shut behind him. Then she sank to the floor.