Cloudy with a Chance of Marriage

by Kieran Kramer

  “Miss Jones,” Lady Tabitha said in a lively manner, “no more discussion. I expect to see you at my aunt’s.”

  Stephen was glad Lady Tabitha had shown a rapid improvement in her attitude toward Miss Jones. But he wasn’t a fool. She must have sensed his support of the bookseller and was trying to impress him.

  He didn’t care what her motivation was as long as Miss Jones could go to the ball.

  “Very well,” said Miss Jones with a shy smile. “Thank you.”

  Lady Tabitha shrugged. “Shall we go, ladies?”

  They all fell in line and trailed out after her.

  But then Lady Tabitha turned around. “Miss Jones,” she said, “I hope you won’t feel awkward about my mentioning this. But the truth is, I don’t want you to feel out of place tonight. Shall I send over an appropriate gown? It would be no trouble.”

  “Why, that’s thoughtful of you,” Miss Jones said slowly, as if she had to think about it. “But I can’t ask you to go to such lengths on my behalf. Really.”

  “I promise you, it won’t be an inconvenience.” Lady Tabitha waited without smiling.

  “All right, then,” Miss Jones said warmly. “I’d appreciate that very much.”

  Lady Tabitha turned to him next. “Dear Captain Arrow,” she said in an overly familiar way, “you won’t mind meeting us at the ball, would you? We won’t have room in the carriage. My friends are staying with me until then, and now we have Miss Jones coming, as well.”

  “It would be no inconvenience at all.” He made a restrained but polite bow to the departing ladies. “See all of you tonight.”

  When they were gone, Miss Jones turned to him. “It’s completely inappropriate that I go,” she insisted.

  He laughed. “Why so?”

  “I’m not out in society.”

  “So? You’ll be the guest of Lady Tabitha and Lady Duchamp.”

  She still looked uneasy.

  “And you’ll be with me,” he said.

  She looked up at him then, unguarded for once. It was as if that thought appealed to her, the idea of being with him. Something inside him twisted near his heart.

  Plain and simple, he wanted to kiss her. But would he ever be able to again?

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Mere seconds after Lady Tabitha and her cronies left Hodgepodge, Jilly found herself wanting to kiss Captain Arrow.

  It was difficult to not want to kiss him. He was so handsome, after all, and thoughtful when he chose to be. And when he looked at her as if she were the answer to his every craving—as he was doing now—everything in her strained to lift herself up on her toes and press her lips to his.

  He was nearly impossible to resist.

  But resist she must.

  It took all she had.

  She turned away from him. “I think you’d better go,” she said briskly. He’d go and she’d make a cup of tea and become a serious shopkeeper once again.

  But he didn’t move.

  “Captain,” she warned him.

  He grabbed her hand. “Must I?”

  Dear God. It was the answer she’d hoped for in her daydreams.

  But this was real life!

  She couldn’t possibly look directly at him. She’d look at the books over his shoulder instead. And she didn’t know what in the world to say.

  “I don’t want to go, Miss Jones.” His voice was husky. “You don’t want me to, either. You want me to stay. Here. With you.”

  Still, she couldn’t move. Or speak. This couldn’t be happening again.

  But it was.

  He ran a thumb over the back of her palm. “I do believe you’re thinking what I’m thinking.”

  She bit her lip and risked a glance at him. “And what is that?”

  He was mere inches away. With a slow, deliberate movement, he turned her to face him. “You’re thinking we should take inventory,” he said. “Of all the books.”

  Inventory.

  “Oh.” She swallowed. “Right.”

  Heavens, that hadn’t been what she’d been thinking at all! Her heart hammered in her chest, and her palms were damp. In the distance came the rumble of a wagon, the call of one workman to another, and the joyful voices of children singing a nursery rhyme she’d sung herself years ago.

  But no sound, no intriguing book title, no shelf that needed dusting, could distract her from the realization that she and Captain Arrow were alone, in her store—

  The store that almost always saw no customers.

  Otis, too, wasn’t due back for a goodly while.

  “You’re thinking we should take inventory,” he went on with a lazy yet heated grin, “because you’ve only done it at least a dozen times this week. Thirteen would be good. Thirteen times would assure you that you’re using your time wisely.”

  She nodded, still mute.

  “We should start here,” he whispered, pulling a tendril of hair off her cheek.

  “Here?” She could barely get the word out.

  Slowly, he pulled her down with him to the floor. “This table,” he whispered in her ear.

  Books were stacked so high upon it that no one could see them from the door.

  She swallowed. “I know what you’re about to—”

  And then he kissed her below her jaw.

  Oh, sweet heavens! She gulped and blinked. “Captain,” was all she was able to say before he kissed her again, this time on the edge of her mouth.

  The edge.

  It was too much to be borne. She needed to be kissed full on the—

  Oh, now he was kissing her.

  Was he ever!

  “Don’t worry,” he murmured against her mouth. “It’s your slowest time of the business day. And if by some slim chance, anyone comes in, we’ll freeze and not say a word. They’ll soon leave.”

  “Are you sure?” she said, her limbs weak with desire and, she must admit—

  Fear of the unknown.

  “I won’t let anything untoward happen to my favorite bookseller,” he said, “I promise you.”

  Those were exactly the words she’d needed to hear. She allowed herself to lean into him, luxuriating in the pleasure of feeling his broad, muscled chest beneath her palms.

  But then she pulled back. “This is crazy,” she whispered, and clung to his shirt.

  “I know,” he said. And in one swift movement, he lowered her gently to the floor. He wrapped one arm around her waist and put one broad palm behind her head, to cushion her.

  It was the most cozy bed she’d ever lain in.

  He kissed her, then pulled back a fraction of an inch from her lips. “It makes it that much more exciting, doesn’t it? Knowing we’re taking a substantial risk … all for a kiss.”

  She practically melted at the look in his eyes, at the sound of the word kiss on his lips.

  He kissed her again, the rough skin of his jaw so pleasant against her own skin. She couldn’t help herself. She moaned.

  Their kisses grew deeper. She ran her hand over his back, and he caressed her breasts through the thin fabric of her gown.

  She sucked in a breath. No one had ever done that to her before. Certainly not Hector. She closed her eyes and let herself be caressed. It was the only word for it.

  Caressed.

  “If this is inventory,” she murmured, making one, last feeble attempt at being businesslike, “I—I like it very much.”

  He laughed against her mouth.

  He shouldn’t laugh. She was the owner of Hodgepodge, and it was broad daylight. Yet she was on the floor of her store with him, and if anyone walked in—

  Why, if anyone walked in, she’d be run off Dreare Street, wouldn’t she?

  But she couldn’t care very much at the moment. Captain Arrow was making her feel so very good. She couldn’t even properly describe how she felt—just that she wanted to keep doing what they were doing.

  “You’re the most delectable bookseller I’ve ever known,” he said, and pulled down the edge of her bodice. />
  “I am?” What a world was opening up to her, here on the floor of Hodgepodge! She was almost greedy with need, wrapping her arm around his neck and pulling him close for an openmouthed kiss.

  “Yes, you are.” He trailed hot kisses down her neck and shoulder. Then he nuzzled his chin and mouth into the lacy edge of her bodice.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered.

  “What I’ve wanted to do ever since I first laid eyes on you.”

  She felt him nudge aside the thin fabric there. Coolness struck. And then heat and—

  Oh, God. He was suckling her breast. She closed her eyes, rocked by a deeply pleasurable sensation that flickered between her legs.

  What they were doing was so improper. A volume of Shakespeare was nearby. And several fussy dictionaries. But she couldn’t care. Oh, no, she was in a blissful state.

  She’d never wanted a customer less than she did at this moment.

  She arched her back. “Please don’t expect this to happen again,” she whispered into his golden curls, her hands caressing his tapered shoulders.

  “Oh, no.” He ran a finger in a lovely circle around her exposed nipple. “I wouldn’t dare hope. It was entirely a matter of impulse you won’t repeat.”

  “Exactly,” she said with a sigh.

  And then felt bereft.

  Because she wanted this to happen again. Very much.

  Someone walked by the store, whistling, and they both froze.

  But of course, the person walked by without even slowing at the door.

  “Thank God,” she said softly.

  “Yes, thank God. I haven’t had nearly enough of you.” He cast his eyes up, and she saw in them a glint of amusement vying with desire.

  From the modest neckline of her gown, he released her other breast and ran a hand over both of them appreciatively. “You’re gorgeous,” he said admiringly, then raised his eyes to hers again. “I want you to remember what we did here when you come into the store each morning.”

  “I will,” she whispered.

  He lifted her skirt, but she didn’t care. In fact, it felt delicious to be so exposed.

  Delicious and wicked.

  His kisses now became even more ardent, and his hand … his hand played delightful games up her legs, all the way to her softest flesh.

  And then his fingers began to move there. He made little circles with his thumb over the nub of flesh guarding her most intimate place. She groaned with delight, lost in intense, delicious feeling. She felt wild. Free. Yet also at the center of everything, as if the whole world spun around them and not the sun.

  All the while he kissed her breasts, her mouth, and then his fingers began to play more. She arched to bring him closer, and as she did, she began to slip into another world.

  “More,” she moaned. “Oh, please. More.”

  And then she was floating free, suspended in a wave of infinite pleasure.

  The front door of Hodgepodge opened and the bell tinkled.

  Captain Arrow’s mouth clamped over her own, and she rode pulse after pulse of sensation, her eyes wide, staring into his—he wouldn’t let her look elsewhere.

  I promised you, she saw there.

  And she believed him. As she sank back down to earth, she didn’t care that anyone was at the door.

  “Miss Jones?” Lady Hartley’s voice boomed.

  Keep looking at me, Captain Arrow’s eyes said.

  She was slack, at peace, more relaxed than she’d ever been in her life.

  She smiled at him, and he smiled back.

  “Miss Joo-oones!”

  Behind the table stacked high with books, they maintained total silence.

  “Where are you?” Lady Hartley called out.

  A big sigh came from the door. “Very well, then. I won’t be coming back here to borrow a cup of sugar for our tea,” Lady Hartley tutted. “Leaving a store unattended. Only a very irresponsible person would do so.”

  Captain Arrow looked down at Jilly, his eyes merry now. She bit her lip to keep from laughing.

  And then the door slammed shut.

  Captain Arrow ran a hand down her flank. “Well, now,” he said. “About that inventory.”

  She let herself laugh then.

  It was the first genuinely carefree laugh she’d had in years.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  A full thirty seconds passed after Lady Hartley departed, then Captain Arrow tugged on Jilly’s hand and pulled her up from their shelter behind the book table.

  She knew her hair was a mess and her mouth was slack and her spine wasn’t as rigid as usual, but the realization of what she’d done with him still hadn’t hit her hard enough to allow her to regain her usual decorum.

  However, it was coming toward her, slowly, from the fringes of her conscience, like a cat wending its way down an alley and then detouring at several more side streets before arriving home, especially when Otis appeared at the door, much earlier than expected.

  “I forgot my sample handkerchiefs!” he cried, and went dashing upstairs to retrieve them.

  Jilly and the captain exchanged a look as he sped by. It had been a close call. She strode to her father’s mirror and straightened her hair. She also adjusted her apron and told herself it was time to return to business.

  She might be a wanton, but she was, first and foremost, a bookseller.

  Meanwhile, Otis came back downstairs, mentioned that they were out of bread, a lapse he would remedy, and went racing out the front door again.

  When he was gone, the captain said, “I’m going to be working on some house repairs.” He spoke plainly, leaving her no opportunity to indulge in embarrassment. “And if I have time, I’ll begin the next booth. So if you need me for anything before this evening—”

  “No,” she stammered. “I’ll be fine.” She attempted a polite, professional smile, but it was difficult to look at him the same way ever again. “You take entirely too much upon yourself, Captain.”

  He laughed. “Very well. I will acknowledge that you’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself.”

  He said it like a caress.

  She finally blushed.

  “Thank you,” she managed to say crisply. “You’ve given me my ledge.” And taken me to the moon and back with your hands and mouth. “I’ll spend part of the afternoon arranging books on it to my liking. I’m quite particular.”

  “I’ve noticed,” he said, his mouth teasing.

  What did he mean by that? she couldn’t help wondering.

  “And then with the time I have left before the ball,” she forged on, “I’ll check on Susan and Otis, look for the diary again—I really must find it—and I might pay a visit to the Hobbs family.”

  “You’d best stay out of it,” he said with no heat in his manner, which was a good thing because she would have objected strongly.

  “Out of what?” she asked, attempting an equally light tone.

  “Out of the Hobbses’ business.”

  Hmmm. For a man who had just pleasured her so well, he was amazingly able to inflame her senses in an entirely different way.

  “I don’t plan to interfere,” she said, heat rising up her neck. “I’m only offering my friendship to Lavinia. Nothing more.”

  He merely gave her a look that said he knew better—and waved good-bye.

  She watched him walk back to his house and felt very guilty all of a sudden for wanting to convince Mr. Hobbs—in a subtle way, of course—of the error of his ways.

  And then she felt terribly alone when Captain Arrow opened his front door and shut it behind him.

  When he was with her, she was so focused on him she lost all sense of reason. But when he was gone, she couldn’t ignore that voice in her head telling her that her life could go terribly wrong at any time if she were foolish.

  Hector could find her.

  She sighed and began to search the shop for the diary. Would she ever be able to truly relax? In the moments after she’d been suspended in
total pleasure, she had. Her limbs were still weak from the captain’s caresses, but deep in her heart, she was troubled. Would every new, wonderful experience be tainted by the dread that her husband would find her?

  Every day she was around Captain Arrow, her resolve to hide from life—because she must—weakened.

  Meanwhile, she conceded that perhaps a small amount of her anxiety stemmed from the fact that the diary had gone missing. She couldn’t lose it—somehow, it gave her comfort. It felt like a connection to a solution of some sorts to Dreare Street’s woes. Hadn’t she gotten the idea for the street fair from its pages? And she loved reading about someone on Dreare Street who’d been happy. It gave her hope.

  It would be so frustrating never to see the journal again when she’d only read the first third!

  She also had to admit that Lady Tabitha’s friendliness was bothering her, as well. Perhaps it was catty of her to think such negative thoughts, but the femme fatale’s generous invitation to accompany her and her party to the ball and provide Jilly a gown made no sense, coming as it did on the heels of the very cool welcome she’d given her when she and her friends had first walked into Hodgepodge.

  In short, Jilly couldn’t trust the woman, although Lady Tabitha had given every indication she was trying to be helpful.

  “Ah, well,” she said hours later when it was time to turn the sign in the window over to read CLOSED. She was unsettled. Perhaps her jealousy of Lady Tabitha’s good looks and confidence was making her overly sensitive.

  She still hadn’t found the diary, but she had managed to make a beautiful display on the new ledge. Every moment of her pleasure in the endeavor had been tinged with a heated memory of Captain Arrow’s form leaning over the ledge, making it with careful hands and looking up at her with laughing eyes.

  She closed her eyes and pretended he was holding her hand again, telling her that if she needed him, he was nearby. And then she let herself go over every moment of their scandalous liaison on the floor of Hodgepodge.

  She opened her eyes and drew in a breath. She was leaning against the door jamb, her face up to the late afternoon sun, which had come out for a moment from a swirl of clouds and smoke overhead and warmed her lips the way she imagined the captain’s lips would.