Better Deeds Than Words (The WORDS Series)

by Georgina Guthrie

  Cover

  Title Page

  Better Deeds Than Words

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  Georgina Guthrie

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  Omnific Publishing

  Los Angeles

  Copyright Information

  Better Deeds Than Words, Copyright © 2014 by Georgina Guthrie

  All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.

  ...

  Omnific Publishing

  1901 Avenue of the Stars, 2nd Floor

  Los Angeles, California 90067

  www.omnificpublishing.com

  ...

  First Omnific eBook edition, May 2014

  First Omnific trade paperback edition, May 2014

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  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

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  Library of Congress Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

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  Guthrie, Georgina.

  Better Deeds Than Words / Georgina Guthrie – 1st ed

  ISBN: 978-1-623421-18-2

  1. Contemporary Romance—Fiction. 2. University—Fiction. 3. Shakespeare—Fiction. 4. Forbidden Romance—Fiction. I. Title

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  Cover Design by Micha Stone and Amy Brokaw

  Interior Book Design by Coreen Montagna

  Dedication

  For my husband, with love.

  The Stolen Kiss

  Jean-Honoré Fragonard (France, 1732–1806)

  The Stolen Kiss, circa 1780, Oil on canvas

  State Hermitage Museum—Saint Petersburg, Russia

  Aubrey

  Chapter 1

  Faithful Friends

  Words are easy, like the wind;

  Faithful friends are hard to find.

  (The Passionate Pilgrim)

  SATURDAY MORNING. HALLELUJAH. No need to leap out of bed, no reason to move. I dragged the blankets over my head and stretched.

  This is what it’s like in heaven—Saturday every day.

  Then I realized that this couldn’t be heaven because Daniel, along with his whiskers, his hands, his lips, and his tongue, would have to be here too.

  I closed my eyes, thinking about the night before. Daniel had dropped me off at Bay Street at eleven. My feet should have been killing me as I walked back to Jackman, but I was almost certain they hadn’t been touching the ground.

  What a crazy night. I’d arrived at the frat house expecting nothing more than a distraction from the horrible week I’d had. Then Daniel had shown up, and between his apology and his shocking story about what that Nicola girl had done to him at Oxford, my head had started to spin. The next thing I knew, I was meeting his grandmother, being invited for Sunday dinner, and sharing a first kiss with Daniel in an abandoned parking lot. Talk about plans going in an unexpected direction.

  But how the hell was I supposed to enjoy the memories of Daniel’s warm tongue and roaming hands with the unholy racket coming from down the hall? It sounded like Chef Ramsay was out there having a conniption.

  I pulled on some PJ bottoms and made my way to the kitchen where Matt was creating a tower with our frying pans. Stranger still, he was wearing his hockey helmet and had his athletic supporter on over his track pants. His hockey stick was lying across the stove.

  “Dude, what in the living fuck are you doing?”

  He whirled around, grabbing his hockey stick and backing up, blocking my access to the frying pans. “Stay back.” He held the stick out to protect himself.

  “Have you lost your mind? What—?”

  “Don’t hurt me, Aubrey.” He cowered in the corner, one hand over his crotch.

  Oh, now I saw what this was all about. What a lunatic! I decided to play along.

  “Lose the cup. I’m about to claim your first born.” I edged closer to him, my eyes narrowed and hand outstretched.

  “I mean it, stay back.”

  I tried to continue with the charade, but he looked ridiculous. I laughed so hard I gave myself a stitch.

  “I guess that means you’re not gonna castrate me for telling Daniel everything yesterday?” he said.

  “Holy shit, dude,” I gasped. “What’s with the getup?”

  “In case you came after me with a pan. Protecting the noggin’.” He tapped the helmet.

  “I think your noggin’s safe, spaz.” I wiped the tears from my eyes.

  “And my gonads?”

  “Safe too. For now.” I grinned and filled the coffee maker with water.

  “That’s a relief.” He sighed, tossing his helmet on the counter. He was about to follow suit with his jockstrap when I held up a hand.

  “Ew, get that nasty thing out of here.”

  He took his hockey equipment back to his room while I put the frying pans away. He returned and leaned against the doorframe. “So?”

  “So what?”

  “So…Did you guys work everything out?”

  “Yes.”

  “And everything’s cool?”

  “Everything’s very cool. Thanks, Matt. I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything.” He gave me a giant bear hug. “I’m glad you guys got your shit together. And that you didn’t punch me in the junk.”

  “Me too.”

  “But if he screws you over again, I swear to God—”

  “I know. Don’t worry. He’s suitably remorseful. And he appreciated what you did. We both do.”

  “No worries. By the way, I told Shawn and Jo you left the party because you weren’t feeling well.”

  “Thanks for covering for me.”

  “Hey, I’m gonna shower, and then I have a shitload of reading to do. Will you let me know when the coffee’s ready?”

  “I’ll bring you a cup. It’s the least I can do,” I said, punching him lightly on the arm.

  “Oh, this ain’t over. Payback’s a bitch, Aubs,” he said, his toothy grin lighting up his whole face.

  “How altruistic of you, friend.”

  “Don’t mention it,” he called over his shoulder.

  I slouched against the counter, watching the coffee drip into the pot. Was I seriously going to try to get work done today? All I could think about were Daniel’s lips and whiskers; his hands sliding around my hips, pulling me hard against him…

  How would I control myself for the next six weeks? Keeping my hands off him now that I knew what I’d been missing was going to make graduating with distinction look like child’s play.

  I poured coffee and left a cup on Matt’s dresser before returning to my room. Saturday morning. Time to email my mom and dad. I wrote a long message, telling them about Julie and Matt and talking up my social life. Mom always worried I was spending too much time on school work.

  Next I turned my attention to my French homework. Emails from my group members with their contributions to our upcoming presentation waited in my inbox. I hadn’t even started writing my own part yet, so I played catch-up for the next hour. I was snapping my laptop shut when my phone rang.

  My heart leapt.

  Daniel.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” he said.

  “Hey! You sound out of breath. Been thinking of me?” I asked, my voice low and sultry.

  “You know I have. Unfortunately, I’ve also been lugging furniture around Brad and Penny’s house for the last hour. I’m helping them move.”

  “Sounds
like fun.”

  “Not so much. What are you up to?” he asked.

  “Trying to get caught up on school work. A certain asswipe threw me into a tailspin this week.”

  “Guilty as charged.” He sighed dramatically. “Is there anything Mr. Asswipe can do to help?”

  “I’ll be fine. I work well under pressure.”

  “Good. I thought we should finalize dinner plans for tomorrow. Are we still on?”

  “Of course.”

  We hashed out the details before Daniel had to go.

  “Can’t wait to see you,” he said.

  “Me too,” I said. My face warmed at the thought of being with him again. I hung up, smiling goofily.

  I wandered back out to the kitchen. Matt was sitting in the armchair, highlighting a textbook, but he caught the dreamy expression on my face.

  “Ah, young love,” he said. I flicked his ear as I passed him with my snacks. “Ouch. What happened to gratitude?”

  “I left it on your dresser earlier. Help yourself to a second cup,” I said breezily, kicking my door closed behind me.

  Chapter 2

  A Merry Feast

  Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast.

  (Comedy of Errors, Act III, Scene 1)

  WHAT DO YOU WEAR to dinner at your TA-slash-boyfriend’s grandmother’s house? This question plagued me as I stood in front of my closet the next day, staring at my woefully underwhelming wardrobe. What had Daniel said? “Nice pants and a sweater.” Not jeans. Black pants and my chenille wine-colored sweater? It was snug and soft and screamed touch me! Definitely what I was aiming for. Decision made.

  Ready to go, I went to the living room. Matt was flopped in front of the TV. I updated him on my plans for the evening.

  “Wow. Extended family? That’s serious.”

  “Please don’t, Matt. I’m nervous enough.”

  “Don’t worry. She’ll love you. Hey, what if Jo comes back tonight to do laundry or something? What should I tell her?”

  I groaned as I slipped on my coat and boots. “I haven’t told her about Daniel yet. Can you say I’m out with Julie or something?”

  “Sure, I’ll cover for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  I walked to the subway, and at twenty to five, I was picking my way through a snowdrift in front of Dundas West Station to get to Daniel’s car like we’d planned. He leaned over to push the door open for me.

  “Hi,” I said as I hopped in.

  “Hi yourself, gorgeous. Get over here.” He leaned across the armrest. “I haven’t kissed you in over forty hours. I can’t wait another minute.”

  He pressed his lips to mine, forgoing sweet and tender in favor of hot and passionate. He was delicious and smelled divine—whiskery and freshly-cologned. I moved my hands up to his face, and he frowned at my gloves.

  “Take these off,” he grumbled, plucking them from my hands and throwing them over my shoulder. I tickled his scruff and curled my fingers in his soft hair. I could feel him smiling against my lips.

  “Better?”

  “Much,” he said. Then we were on our way, Daniel quizzing me about my day as we drove to the heart of a High Park neighborhood. A few minutes later, we turned into the narrow driveway of a two-story brick house with a wide porch and traditional white-fenced front yard.

  “This is it,” he said. “You ready?”

  “I think so.”

  He retrieved a bag from the back seat before coming around to help me out of the car. He turned the handle on Patty’s front door and poked his head inside.

  “Hello?” he called. “Patty?”

  “Yes, Daniel, coming!”

  Patty bustled out to the front hall, quickly hugging Daniel before turning to take my hand.

  “I’m so glad you were able to come,” she said. Without missing a beat she added, “Where’s the wine?”

  Daniel handed her the bag. “I grabbed two one-liter bottles. There’s no way we’ll make our way through both tonight. Put one bottle aside for another time.”

  “I suppose that’s an acceptable compromise,” she said with a tart smile. “I’m slicing the roast. Dinner will be ready shortly.”

  “Let me get some of the snow off the sidewalk,” Daniel said. “You don’t want the city issuing you a fine. You’ll be okay for a minute?” he asked me, taking my coat and hanging it up.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Be right back.”

  I took off my wet boots and made my way through to the kitchen. The house was not at all what I’d been expecting. After seeing Daniel’s parents’ house, I’d imagined something similar. This house was nothing like the Grants’ Forest Hill mansion. Patty’s house had character and charm. The rooms were smaller, slightly cluttered, and homey.

  In the kitchen, she moved between the stove and a giant cutting board where a carved prime rib waited to be served.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked.

  “No, no, dear. Everything’s under control. Make yourself at home. There’s quite a rogues’ gallery in the hallway there if you’re interested in family photos,” she said.

  I stepped through the doorway at the back of the kitchen and saw the wall she meant. It was full of pictures in a mishmash of decorative frames. I scanned the rows, taking particular interest in the photographs of Daniel, Brad, and Jeremy.

  “You have a beautiful family, Patty,” I said when she joined me. “Is it okay if I call you Patty?”

  “Of course it is, as long as you don’t expect me to start clapping my hands and chanting nursery rhymes.” She smiled. “You know the story behind that name?”

  “I do.” I laughed.

  “How disappointing. One less anecdote I can embarrass Daniel with. But yes, please, call me Patty. And don’t ever let me catch you referring to me as ‘Nan’ or ‘Nanny.’ I’m not a goat.”

  “Got it.” I smiled and turned my attention back to the pictures.

  “That’s my Gail.” Patty gently placed her fingers on one of the frames. “She died, you know.”

  I nodded. “I’m terribly sorry. I can’t imagine…” I trailed off, unsure what else to say. Poor Jeremy.

  “One of the most horrific things a parent can endure. But thankfully we still have our Jeremy. He’s so much like Gail. Compassionate and kind.”

  I continued to examine the photos, tracing Daniel’s transformation from a pudgy baby to a pink-faced toddler and eventually a good-looking, lanky schoolboy. My eyes landed on a picture of Daniel with his arm around a pretty brunette with sparkling blue eyes. My heart lurched. They were both dressed formally. He couldn’t have been any older than sixteen or seventeen. Patty saw me gazing at the picture.

  “That’s Sabrina. She was Daniel’s first real girlfriend, I think. She went to Havergal, the private girls’ school. That was Havergal’s prom. Daniel came home from Oxford three times during his first year of university to visit her, but then he built a new life for himself in England. It’s not easy to maintain a long-distance relationship at that age. Not terribly advisable, either.”

  “No, I suppose not.” I tore my eyes away from the photograph. There was no point being jealous of Daniel’s past. He wanted me now. That was all that mattered.

  We returned to the kitchen, and Patty went back to stirring the gravy. Daniel ducked inside, noisily stomping the snow off his feet. As he hung up his coat and slipped off his boots, I noticed he was wearing the same outfit he’d worn the day he’d made me dissolve into a hot mess in the Hart House Library. Those black jeans paired with the sex boots could potentially cause my early death. He ran his hands through his hair, shaking out the snow.

  Breathtaking.

  “Thank you for doing that, Daniel,” Patty said. “Now, I’m not going to stand on ceremony. Why don’t we dish everything up in the kitchen?”

  “Good idea.” Daniel smiled and rubbed his hands together. “Ladies first,” he said, handing us both a plate.

  “Everything looks
wonderful,” I said as Daniel spooned food onto my plate.

  “Patty’s an awesome cook,” he assured me. “Best gravy in Toronto.”

  I pointed to a muffin tin with little puffy, doughy things in it. “What are those?”

  “Those are Yorkshire puddings,” Patty said. “You have to have Yorkshires with a roast.”

  “You’ve never had one?” Daniel asked.

  “Not to my knowledge.”

  Daniel dropped two of them on my plate. I’ll never eat all this.

  “I’ll top up the gravy and bring it in. Can you take the salad?” Patty said, handing me a bowl.

  I made my way to the table, which was set for three. Patty sat across from me, leaving the other chair for Daniel. He set his overflowing plate down before opening one of the bottles of wine and pouring us each a glass. He sat, and I paused before reaching for my cutlery. Would Patty want to say grace?

  “Enjoy,” she said, picking up her knife and fork. “Try the Yorkshires, my dear. I’m interested to hear what you think.”

  Okay, no grace in the Wright household. Fair enough. I cut off a piece of the fluffy pudding and popped it in my mouth.

  “Mmm, that’s wonderful,” I said.

  “Told you,” Daniel said.

  I dipped some potato in the gravy—Daniel was right. It was amazing. Everything was delicious. Not glamorous in the slightest, but absolutely wonderful all the same. We ate quietly for a moment before Daniel broke the silence.

  “So, tell me about Gerald, Patty. How long has this been going on, young lady?”

  “Don’t patronize me, Daniel,” Patty said. “He’s a lovely man, widowed for three years. I met him at Florence’s house over Christmas. We have a lot in common. He enjoys dancing and playing bridge. He’s a gentleman, and I like his company. And he has all his own teeth.”

  Daniel laughed and shook his head.

  “Good teeth are imperative,” Patty said, gesturing with her fork. “Do you floss, Aubrey? It’s very important.”

  “I try to remember,” I said.