Heirly Ever After

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Heirly Ever After Page 3

by Vernon, Magan


  I sat down on the chaise, already feeling the springs poke in my bum. Yet there was something else. The overwhelming sense that I’d been here before. The history was all around me. Not just of the place. But of my family.

  If Madison’s sister really was a historian, maybe she was the ticket I needed to find out more about my family’s history, the manor, and what we could inherit. Not that I’d let her know my intention, but she could help me find the proof I needed.

  I cleared my throat. “Why don’t you draw a bath for yourself and I’ll make up the chaise for me here?”

  Madison turned sharply toward me, her wet hair making a thwapping sound as the strands hit her cheeks. “I’m not making you sleep on that thing. You’re like a foot taller than me and you paid for the room. I’ll sleep there.”

  I stood up, frowning. Was she really going to argue about this?

  “Even though you may not think I’m much of a gentleman, lass, I would never make you sleep anywhere but the bed.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes. “Fine. Then I’ll sleep on the floor.”

  “The hell you will.”

  “You can’t tell me what to do.”

  Bloody hell, this woman was a pain. I was about to let my anger get the best of me as my heart pounded in my ears, then I remembered something.

  I smirked, pulling the coin out of my pocket.

  “We’ll flip for it. Heads, you take the bed. Tails, I do. All right?”

  She stared at me for a moment before slowly nodding. “Okay. Fine.”

  Chapter Three

  Madison

  After barely getting any sleep on the plane and train, I should have passed out on the glorious, feathery mattress as soon as my head hit the pillow.

  But I was in a new country.

  Oh, and there was a very attractive man curled up on a flower-print half-couch thing at the foot of the bed.

  How the hell did I get myself in this situation? Any sensible girl would have either probably forced him to get a different room or maybe invited him into bed. I settled for a coin toss and prayed I made the right decision to share a room with pretty much a complete stranger.

  But he’d been a perfect gentleman so far. And he looked awfully damn cute in his button-down pajamas, curled up on the scratchy piece of furniture that was at least a foot too small for him.

  “You know, it’s rude to stare at a man while he’s sleeping.”

  I gasped, pushing back against the brass headboard as I looked down at Jacob, with his eyes closed and a sleepy half smile on his face.

  “I-I-I wasn’t staring,” I said, covering up my faded pajamas with the fluffy comforter as if I’d been cocooned in the mass of floral bedding and not doing exactly what he accused me of.

  How the hell could he even tell if his eyes were closed?

  Slowly, Jacob sat up, running his hand through his mess of brown hair then down his face. “There’s a distinct presence you can notice if you’re asleep and being watched. From the heat of their breath to the rapid beating of their heart. Or in your case, the fact you stopped talking in your sleep and the bed creaked as soon as you started moving.”

  He opened his eyes, and even full of sleep, in the dim morning light, they were the most magnificent shade of spring green with hints of ocean blue.

  I had to look down to the bed so I’d stop staring at the guy. “I do not talk in my sleep.”

  He laughed, and the weight of the bed shifted. When I glanced up, I found him perched at the end, that glorious dimpled smile on his face. “Ah, you do, damsel. But don’t worry, wasn’t anything I’ll repeat.”

  My stomach sank as the reality of everything came flooding back.

  My sister’s wedding.

  She was probably waiting for me, worried sick, and I was in this awkward situation in a random hotel in England with a guy I’d just met, swooning over his gorgeous face. What would my sister say? Not just about this, but about everything I had to confess.

  “Hey.”

  Jacob’s warm hand was on my knee, and I forgot about everything. My body hummed the longer his hand remained, and when he moved it away, my skin grew cold, as if missing his touch.

  “Where’d you go there in your own head, damsel?” His words were soft yet commanding. As if he was willing the answer out of me with the tip of his tongue.

  “Just wondering how I’m going to be able to show up to this big estate and answer all these questions about Chris and school and…everything,” I whispered.

  He swallowed hard. “Is there someone you can bring with you? Maybe break up the tension?”

  “I don’t know anyone here. Well, I guess except of course for you now. So…”

  “Are you saying I should go with you?”

  “What?” I reared back, my knees jumping to my stomach. No, that would be… “Don’t you have your own family to visit?”

  He laughed slightly, the smile spreading across his face. “Ah, I do. But I’m sure they won’t miss me for a wee bit while I help a friend out. We’re friends, right?”

  I nodded slightly. “Um…I guess?”

  “Tell ye family that we met by happenstance and hit it off, even if you did accuse me of trying to get into your knickers.”

  My face heated, but I tried not to look away and show him he was right. “That’s a good story. But I’m not going to introduce you to my family as my boyfriend. If I was even considering this…you’re just my friend going with me, okay?”

  He seemed to wince, but as quickly as I saw it, the expression was gone and that assured smile was back. “Just a friend. One odd duck helping another. What do you say?”

  His eyebrows rose in challenge.

  I put my hand to my temple. “This is way too much to think about this early in the morning.”

  He nodded then slid off the bed. “All right, then how about you get ready and I go pick us up breakfast? When I come back, we can talk?”

  My damn stomach decided to defy me at that moment and growled loudly at the mention of food.

  Jacob grinned. “I’ll take that as a yes. Quack, quack?”

  “Quack, quack,” I muttered.

  …

  I wasn’t much of a bath girl, but the lavender soak the inn supplied along with the soothing hot water was like a dream to my sore muscles. Even though I could have stayed in there forever, I didn’t know how long Jacob would be gone and needed to get ready as soon as possible.

  I had a relative stranger spend the night with me, and now I was letting him go out to get breakfast. This was how a lot of horror movies started.

  Wrapping myself in a fluffy towel, I poked my head out of the bathroom, making sure the main room was empty before I headed toward the bed where my clothes were laid out. Next to it was my phone, blinking with an ungodly number of missed messages from my sister.

  Guilt curdled in my stomach as I realized I’d never messaged her or Mom as soon as I’d arrived in town. I could blame the train arriving late because of the rain, but well, more importantly, I still wasn’t exactly sure how to explain the breakup, dropping out of school, and now possibly bringing a stranger as a wedding date.

  Closing my eyes tight, I took a breath then opened them again slowly and checked the first text in a string of messages.

  Natalie: Hey, did you make it into town?

  Natalie: Haven’t heard from you, everything okay?

  Natalie: Did Chris get lost or use your phone battery and wifi to stream one of his games? Seriously, message me when you get this.

  I winced at the last note.

  My fingers hovered over my phone screen before I finally typed back an answer.

  Madison: Hey, yes, I’m here in Webley. We got in late last night, though, and it was raining pretty bad. I didn’t want to bother anyone, so we stayed at a plac
e in town. But it’s not Chris with me.

  I hoped maybe I could gloss over that last part, but that was the first thing my perceptive sister picked up on.

  Natalie: Who is with you???

  I stared at the wooden beams of the ceiling, trying to come up with the right response.

  Did I tell her the truth?

  No.

  I couldn’t do that.

  It wasn’t the right time.

  Maybe after things calmed down with the wedding. The longer they stayed focused on this date, the longer we wouldn’t have to talk about the other skeletons I was hiding.

  Madison: His name is Jacob. He lives in Scotland. I didn’t want to spring it on you and Mom yet that Chris and I broke up, but when Jacob heard, he offered to be my date for the wedding, and we took the train together last night.

  I hovered over the send button for far longer than I should have before I finally swallowed hard and pressed send.

  Shit.

  What had I just gotten myself into?

  He hadn’t agreed to be my date, just to help me out.

  Now it was too late to delete.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  Dots appeared, letting me know she was typing.

  Then they disappeared again.

  The dots appeared.

  Then disappeared.

  Over and over.

  “C’mon, just give me some sort of response,” I grumbled.

  Maybe it wasn’t too late and I could say, “KIDDING he’s not coming. Ha. Got you.”

  The sound of the doorjamb jiggling had me springing up.

  I froze as the door opened, and Jacob stood there with a large brown paper bag and two steaming foam cups. The door shut behind him, but neither of us moved as if we were in a standoff.

  Me, still soaking wet with my hair dripping down my shoulders and onto the towel, the only thing covering me.

  Him, with his pressed button-down and slacks, looking like a GQ model before he even showered.

  But it wasn’t just what he was wearing that had heat curling in my stomach. It was the way his mouth formed a perfect O, the way his eyes flashed with interest or something. Something that had me thinking about dropping the towel.

  What? No.

  We were friends. Right?

  Friends didn’t drop their towel.

  Finally, he shook his head and looked away, setting the food and drinks on a side table before fully turning his back to me.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know ye’d be…”

  Clearing my throat, I tried to come up with the right thing to say. “Just grabbing my clothes. My sister messaged me, so I was responding to her.”

  “Oh?” he asked, keeping his back to me as he grabbed one of the cups from the table.

  I looked from the drinks to my clothes on the bed, wondering if I should grab my stuff and run back in the bathroom or continue with this conversation.

  “Yeah. She was wondering where I was.”

  “And what did you tell her?”

  Okay, I guess we were having a conversation.

  I grabbed my underwear, sliding them on while trying to keep the towel wrapped around me. “That I wasn’t bringing my ex, but a friend from Scotland to the wedding.”

  “I’m a friend now? And your wedding date?” The smile was evident in his tone. Even if I couldn’t see it, I could still picture that damn dimple popping.

  Quickly, I shook the thoughts of him and those high cheekbones and smile out of my head as I slid on a bra. My pink sundress and white cardigan went on next.

  Once fully clothed, I walked around to the other side of the bed. “I’m sorry. I kind of freaked and just typed it. You can still say no. Especially to the whole being my plus-one thing. You have your own family stuff to deal with.”

  He took a sip of his drink, and I couldn’t help but stare at the way the shirt molded to his broad shoulders and down to a tapered waist. My eyes kept trailing down to what had to be the most perfect ass in the world.

  “I’m sure I can rearrange my visit to help out a friend, if that’s what you want. You can tell your family whatever you need to about us. They’re your family, after all,” he quipped, and all of the lightness between us drifted.

  I sighed as I grabbed my shoes and then plopped on the bed. “You can turn around now. I’m dressed.”

  His eyes roamed over me. And then that fiery gaze met mine as he set down his cup. “You look beautiful.”

  My cheeks grew hot, and I looked down, focusing on strapping my sandals so he wouldn’t see the effect his words had on me.

  I still had wet hair dripping on my shoulders, and the dress and sweater were ones I found on the clearance rack last season. But none of that mattered when he looked at me like that and said such words. Ones I didn’t think any other man, or person, had ever said to me.

  Beautiful.

  Did he really think that?

  Or was he just trying to be nice?

  I finished buckling my shoes then stood up, keeping my eyes off his as I pointed to the other steaming drink. “Is that for me?”

  “Ah, yes,” he said, grabbing the cup and holding it out to me. “The only takeaway place in town didn’t have much, and I know most people prefer coffee but thought you should get a real taste of England with green tea and jasmine.”

  I placed my hand on the cup, my fingers brushing against his. I tried to tell myself that it was just the heat from the drink and nothing else that had an electric jolt traveling through my fingers from the rough pads of his fingertips on mine.

  I took the cup, getting a long sip. I closed my eyes, relishing in the taste of fresh green tea leaves with a hint of flowers. I never thought of jasmine as anything other than a component in body wash, but the two flavors together were like a party in my mouth.

  “Wow. This is actually really good.” I slowly opened my eyes to see a small smile cross his lips.

  Shit, that smile was damn sexy.

  But I really needed to stop checking out my “friend.”

  He held up the brown paper bag and his drink then set them on a little bistro table near the window. “I thought you might like that. Hopefully, ye don’t mind some brown bread and Nutella. I also got us each a fruit salad with granola and yogurt.”

  He set out the clear plastic containers on the table in front of each of the matching wooden chairs then removed the cutlery from little bags.

  I stared down at the spread in front of me.

  I couldn’t remember the last time Chris had even brought fast food home. It wasn’t something he ever thought about, though anytime I was running late from work or class, I always picked something up, even if it was my last few dollars and everything was from the value menu. It was always expected, without even a thank you.

  But this…this was something different.

  “Thank you, Jacob. You didn’t have to do all of this.”

  He frowned, pulling out a chair. “It’s just breakfast.”

  I waited for a minute for him to sit. He pulled out the chair, so obviously he was ready.

  Then he raised an eyebrow expectantly. “Your seat?”

  “Um, yes, my seat,” I said, pulling the chair across from him.

  He rolled his eyes. “Lass, I pulled out this chair for you.”

  “Oh.” I fumbled, sliding the chair back in then scooting around the table, and sat in the chair he offered. He pushed it in, and I kept my head down. “Thank you. Not used to that.”

  “Ye don’t need to thank me for every little thing. I don’t know what kind of men, or should I say boys, you’ve been with in the past. But I’m glad you’re done with them.” He cleared his throat. “Listen, I’m not out here to take advantage of ye. I simply want to help, so you can be with your family and don’t have to deal with the repercussions
of that shite of an ex-boyfriend. All right?”

  I swallowed hard, trying to form a complete sentence instead of focusing how warm his words were. How everything he said was so genuine. “Okay.”

  A silence passed between us, one that had me shifting in my seat.

  What was I supposed to say or do now?

  I cleared my throat, trying to root myself back in reality as I finally looked up, happy he didn’t have that dimpled smile on his face. “You know, aside from our stories about how we met and everything, we probably need some ground rules for all of this.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Rules?”

  I nodded, licking my lips. “Yes, like for example, the bed thing.”

  That sexy dimple appeared as he tilted his head and smiled. Damn him.

  “The bed thing, you say?”

  I took a sip of my tea, hoping that hid the blush that was creeping up my neck and cheeks. “We’ll probably be sharing a room, so if we will be, we can stay in the same bed. But no funny business. Okay?”

  “Funny business?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Stop digging.”

  He held his hands up. “Okay. Fine. We share the bed, but just for sleeping. Is that all you’ve got?”

  “None of the flirting or any of the other stuff in front of my family. You can be nice, because you know, I guess we are friends or whatever, but my mom probably doesn’t want to see us even holding hands or dancing too close…if that were to happen or something.” I spit it all out, taking another sip of my tea instead of meeting his gaze.

  He let a breath out of his nose. “Got it. No romance. Friends?”

  I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest.

  Was that really what I wanted?

  No.

  But was it what had to happen?

  “Yes. Friends.”

  He put out his hand, and I looked down at it before gently placing my palm in his. Electricity coursed through me, and I wondered if he felt it, too. That there was a spark between us. One that if I wanted to survive any of my time with him, I was really going to have to ignore.

  “Friends it is, damsel.”

  “Friends it is, Prada Knight.”

 

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