Prologue #3
Wonderful. Just… terrific. She couldn’t have made me sound more like a loser to this gorgeous man than if she’d said we let him out of the attic occasionally. I was never taking her for ice cream again.
“Pemberley is where Darcy, the hero of the book, lives. Not Jane Austen,” I mumbled, shooting Emma a dark look she seemed impervious to. “And I’m sure Webb’s friend doesn’t want to hear us going on and on about this.”
Emma, of course, ignored me. “Do you like reading?” she asked Jack.
Do you live in an attic, too?
“Oh yeah. Mostly thrillers. Can’t remember reading Pride and Prejudice, though, let alone any retellings.” Now Jack sounded apologetic, like he knew he was missing out, which was… kind of adorable. “If I haven’t read the original, I bet the retellings wouldn’t make much sense.”
Despite the fact that I’d resolved to keep my mouth shut and not incriminate myself further, I couldn’t let this misapprehension stand.
“Oh, no, that’s not true at all,” I said fervently.
“When you read the variations, you start to pick up on the story anyway. And it’s really quite simple.
Elizabeth Bennet, the main character, is one of five sisters.
And when a couple of hot, rich single guys—including the swoony Mr. Darcy—come to their small town, her matchmaking mother loses her mind.
And Lizzy and Darcy fall in love, but not really.
He’s like omigod, her family is awful. And she’s like omigod, why is he such an asshole?
And circumstances try to keep them apart for, like, the whole book, but there’s all this unresolved sexual tension, and they keep coming back to each other, and in the end, spoiler, love wins out, which is so great because not all of us are gorgeous or rich, but all of us can aspire to find…
” I coughed lightly, realizing everyone in the room was staring at me with various degrees of what the fuck in their expressions. “Anyway.”
Jack alone didn’t seem distressed by my geekiness. In fact, his smile went even brighter than before. “How cool! I like when people are unapologetically enthusiastic about their interests and opinions.”
“Oh, then you’re gonna love Hawk,” Emma said dryly.
“Alright, leave your brother alone, Emma,” Drew said—about ten damning minutes too late. “Let me find my dang keys, and I’ll drive you to Scoops.”
“On top of the breadbox,” I called as he walked down the hall to the kitchen.
Webb wrapped an arm around Emma’s shoulders. “Come help me find the snowshoes in the front closet. You were the last one to use them.”
After they left, Jack and I stood in our spots, regarding each other awkwardly—or at least I was awkward. Jack looked incredible… which I’d bet was kind of his default state.
“Um. So.” I looked around the room for anything to talk about that wasn’t me being a giant nerd fully manifesting his first major crush. I spied the hint of green cardboard poking up from behind the couch cushion, seized the cookie box, and thrust it at him. “Thin Mint?”
“Whoa. This your secret stash?” Jack asked as he took one from the sleeve. “I’m honored.”
I huffed. “Kinda. I have a lot of hungry brothers.”
Jack inspected the cookie thoughtfully. “You know, Hawk…” he began in a fake-casual voice that wasn’t remotely casual.
“You don’t actually have to come hiking if you don’t want to.
I won’t take it personally. I meant what I said before.
It’s cool to like what you like. Don’t let anyone make you feel bad about it. ”
“Yeah, well.” I shrugged. “Easier said than done.”
“Maybe, yeah. But in the future, you’ll find people who appreciate you for who you are.
And all the things that make you feel like you don’t fit now?
Those are the very things those people will fall in love with when the time is right.
” He popped the cookie in his mouth and made an appreciative humming noise.
Like cookies were what was important in that moment.
My stomach fluttered. Something warm and vibrant and real uncurled in my belly. And something that was not a crush—was so much more than a crush—flared to life.
“You think?” I asked softly.
Jack gave me another of those friendly, offhanded winks. “Guarantee it.”
“Right. Well. That’s…” Going to fuel a lot of my dreams for the next little while, I thought. “…good to know,” I managed to croak out. “But I like hiking, too. Or at least I used to. Maybe… maybe I will again.”
“Awesome,” Jack said, like it was just that easy. “I look forward to it, then.”
Uncle Drew had been right earlier. I had decided that when it came to sex and relationships, I was going to hold out for someone special. And maybe it was the Darcy’s Wild Ride talking or the vast quantities of cookies I’d consumed, but for the first time, I thought maybe I’d found him.
My future, my happily ever after, was written right there, in the curve of Jack’s smile, in his patient eyes, in his broad shoulders.
Jack Wyatt was my Mr. Darcy.
And if I held on—and held out—long enough, eventually, he’d see it, too.