Something like that. I turned to the bride. “Taylor, you need to be a little faster down the aisle this time. We want you to meet Bigley just as the song ends. Just follow Austen’s lead.”
“I can’t,” she whispered brokenly. My heart thudded with a new, nervous tension until she said, “I can’t without my bouquet. I need it. I don’t know what to do with my hands.”
“Oh, well,” I shifted to find my new assistant. “Austen, could you get her bouquet?” I threw him the keys to the car Taylor and I had carpooled in.
His mouth was tight. Without a word, he brushed past me into the foyer, his footsteps echoing over the tiles until I heard the unmistakable sound of the front doors opening, along with a familiar and terse voice addressing him. “Where’s Taylor?” Captain Redd asked. He had come as promised.
“She’s in the chapel.” Austen didn’t bother to speak quietly. “We just finished the first run-through. Glad you’re here. You can give away the bride this time.” The scorn in Austen’s voice revealed his distaste of the whole proceedings.
A few seconds later, Redd slipped into the back of the church in his full military regimentals. His presence only added to the pressure that formed a steady ache in my head. Taylor ran to him, holding out her arms. “Yes, Redd, please, give me away! You’re like a brother to me. It just feels right.”
Redd met my eyes over Taylor’s head as if he blamed me for her strange, new vulnerability. He rubbed her arms to comfort her. “You have nothing to worry about, Taylor. I’m here now.”
I was sure that was a barb aimed at me, but I didn’t have time to brood over it. My phone buzzed, and I saw I had a text from Austen.
AUSTEN: SHE’S WORSE TODAY. TELL ME YOU’RE STILL NOT WORRIED ABOUT HER?
ME: SHE’S HAVING LAST MINUTE WEDDING JITTERS. IT’S NORMAL.
I stuck my phone back in my pocket and listened to the buzzing that meant Austen was madly texting me back. I ignored the texts for now. The musicians picked up their instruments and practiced another run through their prelude music. Since it was Bach, it shot me straight to a more romantic time period that I wasn’t sure I should get lost in right now, especially when Dancey wouldn’t stop looking at me. He might just see me as that strange girl who’d mistaken him for a valet, though I couldn’t mistake the very real interest in his eyes.
The very-married Bertie took advantage of the lull to flirt wildly with Crawley. The bachelor encouraged her with scandalous remarks and roving eyes, but I wasn’t as upset with him as I would’ve been had he gone through with his threat to sabotage Taylor’s ring. Dancey leaned against the podium, his hands in his pockets. He broke his gaze from me and nodded at the chattering Bigley, but his attention was divided. Now he watched Taylor with Redd.
A sneeze next to me made me jump. Mary’s hand clutched my arm in a firm grip. “You do not want to catch this cold,” she said before she lost all breath to speak and gasped for more air. “The mucus is flooding my lungs. I can’t get out the phlegm no matter how much I cough it out.” She coughed in demonstration. “You should see the color that comes out of me.”
I nodded and nodded until I was able to get away. As soon as I did, Bella sighed beside me, looking tragically beautiful. I followed her gaze to find Freddy at the back of the pews, holding Bertie’s little teddy bear of a puppy. His broad shoulders made a straight line against the back of his seat, his eyelids lowered heavily over disdainful eyes. “Is he really so into video games?” Bella asked.
I grimaced. This was for her own good. The last girl Freddy had played had left the state to be a nanny. “Sadly, yes,” I said.
“What about Chuck’s brother?” Bella asked. “He’s quite handsome.”
Crawley laughed loudly and ran his hand down Bertie’s bare arm. I shook my head. “He’s one of those boys with toys. He’d dump you on the weekends and go drinking with his friends—and most of those friends would be girls—doesn’t look like he cares if they’re married either.”
“Hmm.” Bella let the sound draw out as she made herself more comfortable. “What about Dancey?” She watched me expectantly like I had become the authority on love. “What’s his story? Who’s the man behind the tragic love songs?”
“He’s nice,” I allowed. “A little hard to read. He blows hot and cold, I’d say, but more because he’s distrustful at first, but then he warms up. He’s a guy who might go for what he wants, I think, but he’s written a lot of tragic love songs, so I think he’s broken a lot of hearts—”
Bella cut me off with a giggle. “It’s a good thing that he’s so rich and good-looking then.” She dimpled prettily when she caught sight of my stunned expression. “I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking. A man must either be rich or good-looking to catch my interest. And if he’s neither then he must be famous.”
“Hopefully not as a mass murderer,” I said.
She gave that a token laugh. “It seems Dancey has it all, doesn’t he? That makes him the hottest guy here. Thanks for the advice, Jane. I’ll do it.” She broke off from me and headed for the rock star. Had I told Bella to go for Dancey? If I had, I was crazy. There was no way I could compete with the most gorgeous girl at the wedding party.
“Do you ever feel guilty?” Redd asked Taylor. As usual, his voice was too loud, as if he wanted me to overhear him.
“For what?” Taylor asked.
“Your dating past, all the hearts you’ve broken?”
Redd had reverted to torture via guilt trip. He stared at me. Why was it taking Austen so long to find the bouquet? I checked my phone and saw twelve messages from him. I groaned—he was not happy about the wedding. Before I could read his texts, I noticed that Crawley had managed to break free from Bertie and was headed for me with a mischievous grin.
Oh no.
“I’ve got to hurry Austen along,” I told Taylor, tripping over my feet in my hurry to escape. “Start without me. I’ll get you your flowers. But for now …” I plucked Bertie’s bouquet from her hands and gave them to Taylor. “Just make do for a minute, Taylor. I’ll be back. I’ll be back!”
The musicians started up the Wedding March again just as I ran outside and found myself in the middle of a rainstorm. I gasped in surprise—besides the darkness, I hadn’t even noticed it against the windows in the chapel. Austen leaned against Taylor’s car, texting. Rain streamed down his face. His head lifted when I came outside. “No, stop!” At the urgency in his voice, I froze while he ran at me. “Stop it from closing!” The church door sealed shut just as his fingers scraped past the air over it.
He was all wet, his hair a sopping mess. “Didn’t you get my texts?”
I thought guiltily of the twelve texts he had sent and pulled out my cell phone to see that most of Austen’s texts had told me he’d been locked out. I knocked against the door, but the sound was lost against the heavy oak. Austen leaned heavily over me to protect me from the rain while I began to text everyone inside.
“I did that already,” he said. “No one’s answering.”
It was like everyone had their phones off. “Well, how long can they possibly wait before they come outside to check on us?” I asked. “We can wait in the Lexus.”
I hurried through the rain to get to Taylor’s car, but Austen was already shaking his head when he caught up to me. “We can’t—you gave me the wrong keys. Where’s your white knight now? We could use a little help here.”
“Hey, you’re the one who cursed him into not existing.”
He stared at me. The downpour turned his clothes into a second skin. Austen was lean from his biking and his hazel eyes were mesmerizing—they burned into mine. The attraction that I always felt for him came back to haunt me. I tried to look everywhere but at him. When he wouldn’t stop looking at me, sudden fear gripped me, and I checked out my dress to make sure that it was still black and made of heavy cotton.
Austen broke through my thoughts. “You got my first text.”
That again. I leaned against Taylor’s car,
feeling the water pour down my forehead and drip past my lips. “Yeah, and Taylor is just fine!”
“Did you miss the way she kissed Bigley?” he asked. I hesitated. How could I not? Austen frowned. “It was like she was trying to convince herself that she was doing the right thing.”
I gave a worried laugh. “You read that in a kiss? Now who’s the romantic?”
“Kisses tell a lot, Jane. I know.”
“Oh please. You wouldn’t know what a kiss meant if someone smacked you with one.”
I realized what I had said the moment that his hand went to my arm. He turned me gently to face him. His touch warmed me. Austen’s face was only inches from mine, and for a moment I wondered if he meant to show me exactly what he thought a kiss should be.
“I know when the girl enjoys a kiss,” he said. With a start, I felt his hands at my waist. “I know when she wants to be close and when she’s lost in the moment.” My eyes went to his lips and then back to his eyes, and I tried not to look like I wanted to kiss him, my thudding heart the only sound that came from me. Even with his arms around me, I shouldn’t misread the moment. I shouldn’t make the same mistake that I had before. Still, it felt good to be so close to him.
“When you kiss and when you feel it, that means something,” he said, “not that desperate look I saw in Taylor’s eyes.”
The combination of the wind and my nerves made my teeth chatter as the cold wound its way through me. Austen’s hands tightened over me when he felt it. “You’re freezing. Come here.” He pulled me against his chest.
His hands chafed my back and I silently called him out as a fraud—Austen had no idea when a girl enjoyed being near him. I never wanted him to let me go. I rested my chin on his shoulder to see if that told him anything. When it didn’t, I smiled at the irony. “You’re right,” I said. “There’s nothing romantic about a rainstorm.”
Austen pulled back, his eyes trained on me. His hair was plastered to his face, and I reached up to push a strand back from his eye just as a frog rushed past my feet. I screamed. My hands landed on Austen’s shoulders and I screamed again, trying to jump into his arms to escape the horrible, slimy thing.
“What are you doing?” He was laughing. “What was that?”
Embarrassment filled me and I tried to remove myself from his arms, but he wouldn’t let me. “I just thought I’d try out one of those swing dance moves,” I joked. “It’s raining. Dancing just seems like the next step.”
“You wanted me to dance with you?”
I searched his expression and found the teasing glint in his eyes. “Forget it,” I said. “It’s way too much of a commitment. Besides, I don’t want you trying to read too much into it—that would just go wrong.”
“Okay, I get it. No dancing.”
I studied him, trying to see him as a character from one of my favorite Jane Austen romances; but no, he was just Austen. I kind of liked that. The doors from the church broke open as members of the wedding party spilled out into the rain—they must’ve finished rehearsal without me. I was annoyed at the interruption, but Austen straightened with relief. “Finally!” he said.
He put a hand on my back, leading me through the guests. We passed Redd on our way through the doors. The captain stopped short. His self-righteous eyes roved over us, not missing Austen’s touch on my back. “I see you’re working hard on Taylor’s wedding.”
Austen let me go to squeeze out the water from his already dripping shirt, and it spilled onto the tiled floor. “Thanks for letting us in, man.”
Redd glowered. I refused to feel guilty. “We got locked out,” I said.
The captain’s full lips pinched angrily. “Together? How convenient for you.”
Luckily Austen hadn’t heard him. He was already heading for the chapel; the only thing left of him was a line of wet footprints in the foyer. Treating me to another accusing look, Redd rushed the other way. Freddy brushed through the foyer next, with Bertie’s puppy tucked under his arm. He headed for Bella, who stood near the pastor’s office, and bumped into her to fake an accidental meeting. Bella sucked in her breath, but before Freddy could start his smooth talking, she rushed the other way. Freddy stared after her in confusion. I had never seen a girl escape his charms so easily before, but Bella was in hot pursuit of Dancey.
She let out a giggle that put my teeth on edge. Her delicate hands smoothed out the front of Dancey’s jacket, taking every opportunity to touch the bare skin at his neck. “Just make sure you don’t drop Chuck’s ring next time,” she said with a flirtatious smile. “You’d think you wanted to keep the ring for yourself. You’re not lonely now that your best friend is getting married, are you?”
Dancey’s eyes drifted to me. “I’m never lonely.”
“Is that so?” Bella’s gaze shot from him to me, not missing the unspoken communication between us. “Well.” She leaned closer to Dancey. “I can make sure of that. Your visit here doesn’t have to be just about Chuck.”
“It isn’t.” He patted her on the back and just like that, brushed off the most popular girl from the wedding party, coming for me instead. My hair was flattened against my forehead with rain, and I remembered one of Austen’s realisms—the man won’t go for the girl who doesn’t do her hair. There was absolutely no reason for the rock star to like me any more than a friend. I had embarrassed him when I mistook him for a valet, ignored him during the wedding rehearsal, and I certainly wouldn’t have anything interesting to say now.
I shifted uneasily and untangled my curling hair from my face. “Hey.” I couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “Did you need your jacket back?”
“Yes,” he said, “when I pick you up for a drive. Remember, you agreed to go anywhere with me.”
The reminder made me laugh. Now Dancey fit the role of the valet that I knew and loved, not the rock star, and I immediately relaxed. I saw his lips tilt up in response. Dancey seemed to really care what I thought about him. Austen was right. It didn’t make sense. Something else was happening here. “About that,” I said. “You knew I had no idea who you were. Why didn’t you say anything? It could’ve gotten you out of parking all those cars.”
He considered me a moment, then surprised me by smiling. “I enjoyed being treated like a real guy for once. You were brutally honest.”
I reddened when I thought about what I’d said about his song. I actually liked it, but it would seem like I was kissing up to him if I admitted that now. He leaned over me to whisper in my ear, “Remember, you agreed to go out with me when you thought I was a poor man with no prospects.”
“Well, you did bribe me with a trip to Vegas.”
“I’m not through bribing you. Tomorrow morning my car will be ready for you.”
It was like he was setting up a drive in the park. This was so Jane Austen right now. I couldn’t believe it, but the eagerness on Dancey’s face convinced me that he was sincere. I nodded. “Yeah, but remember, I’m driving.”
“You’re not afraid that I’ll steal off with you?”
“Are you kidding?” I laughed when a mischievous thought came to me. “I’m counting on it.”
“Good. I don’t want to share you with anyone else. Not with Taylor, not with your assistant.” He lowered his voice. “I’ve had my fill of this wedding party—the guests chatter constantly about nothing. I’m not looking forward to that trite dinner party tonight. If I could, I’d steal you away from it.”
“That hurts. I planned that trite dinner party.”
“Then I’ll behave for your sake.” He picked up my hand and kissed it.
My mouth dropped after he strode away. He kissed my hand? Did people do that anymore? And he was a snob—it was strangely intriguing, especially since the snob thought that I was worthy of his attention. I gathered up the bouquets and corsages in the chapel and found my clipboard, only to stare blindly at my notes. Dancey was still interested in me. We’d had a meet-cute and a moment—the aftereffects of which had never lasted longer than a day for m
e in any other relationship. Dancey had gone through a lot of breakups. That meant this flirtation might only last the week he was here. Still, I was positive that I could enjoy the fun while it lasted.
Swinging my keys, I turned and met Austen’s disapproving eyes. I shrieked, holding my heart. “Well, it’s nice to see you too, dear friend. What did I do to deserve that look?”
“I thought I warned you about that guy?”
I laughed. “Oh c’mon, Austen. Let’s not argue for once. I prefer to find out if a guy is a jerk my own way.”
“So you believe me that Dancey is a jerk, but you’re still giving him a chance?”
I stopped short. Had I said that? “Nooo,” I said slowly, “but I will never know someone until I get to know them, and,” before Austen went off on how the guy wouldn’t go for me, I held up my hand, “and who knows? We just might hit it off.”
“I didn’t say that you two wouldn’t.” Austen looked disturbed. “When are you going out with him?”
“Not saying.”
I brushed past him and was immediately sorry when I realized that he was just as wet as I was. His hand slid over my arm, and he squeezed my hand. “Can I, at least, ask you to be careful?”
“Oh, c’mon, Austen.” I faced him, making sure he saw how confident I was about my decision. “You don’t have to save the world—we’re not so helpless without you. I might be a romantic, but I’m not stupid. Save your lecture for those who only use kisses as entertainment.”
If anything, my brave words only increased the worry in his eyes.
Chapter 11
“It requires uncommon steadiness of reason to resist the attraction of being called the most charming girl in the world.”
—Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey
All of our wedding rehearsal dinners took place at the Pemburkley Hall. Taylor’s was no exception. The building had a Victorian feel, with ivy climbing over a latticed fence and curling around elegant pillars. The patios, both inside and out, were covered in jungles of flowers.
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