Chapter 11 #3
She motions at me. “What if Doc’s accident was the fountain’s way of bringing Davis back into your life? A second chance for a happy ending? One with Davis?”
“You’re reaching, woman,” I groan. “If that was true, then why are Lord James, Lars, and Owen still here?”
“I don’t know.” Her expression falls. “Are you attracted to them? I mean, they’re all gorgeous, but do you feel the spark? Even when you hated Davis, you still mentioned his sexy nerd aesthetic.”
“I never hated him.”
A ‘gotcha’ smile lights her face. No doubt, she threw that line in to poke just a little more at the Davis bear. The bear that roams inside me with the tiniest of crushes on someone I shouldn’t desire.
“Let’s focus on my three actual suitors.
” I clear my throat. “I’ll admit that Owen is sweet, but there’s nothing there…
But that may come—” I say quickly, causing her to close her mouth, the see comment almost visible on her red-painted lips.
“Lars is too much like Jackson. Lord James, though, there’s a pull to him. ”
“Okay,” she draws out the word with a thoughtful nod. “So, I guess we’re doing this.”
“Yep.”
“And we’re keeping this from Rem?”
“Yep.”
“At least their names won’t raise any suspicion with him.”
It’s the one time I’m grateful for my older brother’s lack of support. Unlike the rest of the Lane family, Rem hasn’t read my books, and I don’t anticipate that he’ll read them anytime soon. Even if he didn’t disapprove of my indie publishing, he’s more of a historical fiction or true crime reader.
“I’m sorry to ask this of you.” I reach over and squeeze her hand. “I know you hate lying to him, but I’m not ready for him to know about this. It will just add to his idea of me as the screwup.”
“You’re not a screwup. He doesn’t think that.” Her mouth purses.
I scoff. “Just tell the three men outside whose entire lives were ripped away from them because of me.”
“None of this is your fault.”
If only I could believe Hope. To see this situation, my brother and myself, through her eyes. In my eyes, this is one giant mess of my doing, which will likely not shock Rem. His “Really, Georgia” reaction already scolds inside me.
Sighing, she rubs her belly. “Alright, let’s head back out there to your book boyfriends. Rem will be home soon, and we’ll need to introduce him to Jackson’s pickleball friends ,” she says with air quotes before rising.
“Thank you.” I thread my arm in hers, guiding her outside.
“Just name your next fabulous female main character after me and make sure it’s a steamy hockey romance.” She waggles her eyebrows. “Emphasis on the steamy.”
“My lady.” Lord James rises and crosses the patio toward me as we exit the house.
“My lady?” Rem asks, his bewildered voice pulling all our gazes toward the backyard entrance where he stands, his face scrunched and a bouquet of flowers in one hand.
“Baby, have you met Jackson’s pickleball friends?” She gestures to each man. “Lars, Owen, and… Jim ,” she almost laughs the name.
Lord James blanches.
“Hi. I’m Rem, Jackson and Georgia’s older brother.” Nodding, he moves toward the patio, his gaze fixed on Lord James.
Lars and Owen both offer quick waves. Jackson just smirks.
Spine straight, Lord James steps toward my brother. “I am”—he grimaces—“Jim. I’m your sister’s soon-to-be intended,” he says with a short bow.
“Her what?”
Damn you, unlucky penny! Squinting against the still bright early evening sun, a painful fuzziness blurs my vision.
“Ha!” Hope barks with laughter, slapping Lord James’s shoulder. “Jim here is a real joker. You’ll love his quirky English sense of humor.” She bats her long lashes. “Are those flowers for me?”
“Yeah.” Rem leans in, presses a kiss to her cheek, and hands her the bouquet. “Georgia, are you okay?” Pulling back, he tips his head toward me, concern furrows his brow.
“I’m…” I flick my wrist as if that will answer his question.
“You don’t look good. Are you having a reaction? Did you have something you shouldn’t?”
“No… I didn’t… It’s just a migraine,” I bite out. “I’m going to go lie down. Sorry.” Hand on my forehead, I start toward the carriage house.
“I can escort you,” Lord James murmurs, moving beside me and taking my arm.
“Jim… How about you grab a seat?” Jackson hops up, his tone full of warning, and moves to my side. “I’ve got Georgia.”
“I don’t?—”
“That way I can grab Wentworth and watch him for the night, so you can sleep this off,” Jackson cuts in, his tone warm even if it reeks of the same placation one would give a child.
At this moment, I can’t fight him. Not when the migraine sinks into me with gnarled claws, squeezing away my ability to process.
And I need to be focused to figure this all out.
After all, in the next six days I’m dating the potential Mr. Georgia Lane, as Jackson would say.
Only, while my brother has me doing my own version of The Bachelorette , I’m going to try to figure out how to get all three back to their stories.
If I don’t, I’ll need to choose one of them in hopes that the other two will be transported back to their realities. And if that doesn’t work…
Don’t do that, Georgia. It will all be okay… I hope.