Uncle Drew had been right earlier. Ihaddecided that when it came to sex and relationships, I was going to hold out for someone special. And maybe it was theDarcy’s Wild Ridetalking 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 heldout—long enough, eventually, he’d see it, too.
CHAPTER ONE
JACK
“I have not the pleasure of understanding you.”
~ Mr. Bennet
Seven Years Later
“So then Elizabethsuggests they take a walk in the garden, but any savvy reader knows that means get away from Mrs. Bennet so they can have privacy, right? But, like, this is one of thesteamyPride and Prejudicevariations, so it actually means she wants a kiss…”
I grinned as I picked my way across some knotty roots on the trail, letting Hawk’s words wash over me. We’d covered hundreds of miles together over the seven years of our friendship, through winter snowdrifts and scorching summer heat waves, but no matter where we went, there was always this—the tenor of his voice as he recapped his latestPride and Prejudicevariation, the steady crunch of his feet on the path at my side.
Life in the quiet town of Little Pippin Hollow, Vermont, turned upside down and inside out with a regularity I hadn’tforeseen when I’d moved here. My restaurant profits fluctuated with the weather, the tourist season, and even the latest dating gossip since nothing brought Hollowans to the table like the opportunity to meddle in their neighbors’ love lives. This spring, Stanistead Road had been closed to traffic three days running for an impromptu cow orgy after O’Henry Brush failed to secure the back door of his cattle hauler, and a herd of cranky but otherwise unharmed Guernsey bulls and heifers tumbled out and proceeded to spend the next three days doing, as O’Henry called it, “what the good lord intended.” And last February, my straightlaced (and, until very recently,straight in all the ways) best friend, Webb, had found himself married to a guy he barely knew and didn’t much like, thanks to a pre-Revolutionary War–era town bylaw involving a bugle and an orchard.
Amidst all that chaos, it was nice to know that some things—like cheerful, vibrant Hawk Sunday, our close camaraderie, and our weekly hikes—remained constant and easy.
“Of course she does,” I laughed. “Was Elizabeth glove-free in this adaptation? Because if so, I understand why you were dying to tell me about this one. The naked-palm touching got you all hot and bothered, didn’t it?” I lowered my voice into a fake-breathless growl. “Sosexy, Hawkins,” I teased.
Hawk made a garbled sound. His foot slipped on some pine needles, and I grabbed his elbow to steady him before he impaled himself on his trekking pole.
“Whoa! You okay?” I smiled down at him. “Maybe we should have postponed our hike. You were just out hiking with the Nature Scouts yesterday, and that’s a lot in this heat.”
“Huh?” He stared down at my hand, and his cheeks turned cherry red beneath his freckles. “Oh. No. I’m fine. Just momentarily distracted when you said, uh… never mind.” He blinked and straightened. “Thanks for the rescue.”
I squeezed his arm before letting him go. “Always, Bird.”
He gnawed on his lip for a long moment. “Just to say… you don’t need to baby me, you know. I’m a grown man.”
I couldn’t help grinning. Hawk was definitely fully grown, not to mention leanly muscled from hiking and hard work. And even if I couldn’t see that truth with my own eyes, I’d know it because he’d repeated it over and over again from the day he turned eighteen. There were very few things that could make Hawk unreasonable or impatient, but growing up as the smallest, quietest brother in his large, boisterous, overprotective family had given him a big-ass chip on his shoulder when it came to being coddled.
Despite knowing this, though, there was something about Hawk—his starry-eyed dreaminess, his passion for the things and people he loved—that had made me want to indulge and protect him from the day we’d met. For some reason, he didn’t seem to mind it as much coming from me as he did from his brothers.
“Not babying you, Bird. Would I have you working full-time at my diner, or up on my roof helping me fix my damn chimney, or planning out our hiking routes every week if I didn’t have full confidence in your abilities? I just like taking care of you. You’re important to me. Nothing wrong with that, is there?”
His expression softened, even as his cheeks went redder. “No. Of course not.” He turned back to the trail, wiping his palms on his shorts. “So, um… What were we talking about?”
I stifled a laugh. Hawk had never managed to stay upset for more than ten seconds as long as I’d known him. “Gloves, I think?”
“Right! Yes. Gloves. I can’t remember if Elizabeth was wearing them at first. But it doesn’t matter because…” He turned back to the trail and resumed his tale, and I tramped along beside him, listening once more.
The July sun was high in the sky now, making the pine-scented air thick and sticky-hot even under the tree canopy. Maybe half a mile up the mountain, if I remembered correctly from the last time we’d hiked here, we’d pass through the tree line, and the terrain would get considerably steeper before we crested the final rise at Balderdash Peak. Two miles down the mountain, at the trailhead, I’d get back in my truck and remember all the other tasks I should be working on. There were invoices to pay at the restaurant, along with shift schedules to finalize, weekly menus to sort out, and stock to order. I needed to plan the final renovation projects on my Victorian money pit of a house. And my mom’s birthday was coming up, so I needed a gift.
But in this moment, I wasn’t racing to get to any of those tasks. There was no need to rush or worry. When I was out hiking with Hawk, there was nowhere else I’d rather be.
“So, when they got out to the garden, and they’d walked a fair distance to be out of view of Mr. Bennet’s book room, Darcy grabbed Elizabeth’s hand and turned her toward him. Then he, uh…” He swiped at a rivulet of sweat rolling down his temple, nearly knocking his eye out with his trekking pole. “He kissed the inside of her wrist.”
“Oooh. And I know how much you love when Darcy takes liberties.” I grinned. “Hey, let’s stop for some water. Your voice is sounding all breathy, and you’re wobbling. Heatstroke can really sneak up on you?—”
Hawk shot me a sideways look. “No heatstroke. It’s just… when I say he kissed her wrist, I don’t mean he kissed her likemwah, Jack. I mean he… he ran his lips over her pulse and nuzzled her palm. Full-on, like… tongue-mauling her hand. And?—”
