“Yes?”
“Never call me Mr. Duke again.”
“Aw,” Bonnie pouted melodramatically, “that’s not one of those benefits you mentioned?”
“Certainly not.” Theo’s huff of indignation was equally melodramatic.
“Too bad.”
“You weren’t interested, anyway.” Theo paused, afraid to press her too much. “Remember?”
“I said I wasn’t sure,” she corrected, adding, “lately, I’m not sure of anything.” Bonnie studied his face, considering. “But I do like being your friend.” She smiled, and this time it did reach her eyes, lighting her face with a warm, delicate glow. “And I admit, I’m curious.”
“Oh?” Theo barely dared to breathe.
“What kind of benefits are you offering? Maybe we should make a list. I love lists.”
Recognizing she was nervous and starting to babble, Theo squeezed her hand. Bonnie was putting herself out there, taking a risk, and it shredded him to see it. “How about,” he said, his voice rough in his own ears. He cleared his throat. “How about,” he began again, pulling his heart back together as he pulled her into his arms, “I show you.”
CHAPTER 20
LATE MORNING SUNLIGHT slanted through her dorm room window, and Bonnie stretched luxuriously. Ah, Saturday. With her first week of classes over, she’d decided to indulge and sleep in. Her body had finally adjusted to the six-hour time difference but still, she welcomed any chance to nab extra sleep.
A night owl by nature, when left to her own devices, Bonnie preferred to stay up late and wake up late too. In college, she’d been able to tailor her schedule to her preferences, never signing up for a class starting before ten. But it was a habit she hadn’t been able to indulge in much over the last several years. Mainly because Gabe hated staying up late, turning into a cranky pumpkin if he wasn’t in bed long before midnight. And her teaching job didn’t allow for sleeping in either.
Bonnie rolled onto her side and pulled her phone off the adaptable charger, noting with lazy satisfaction it was almost eleven. Her stomach growled, not as pleased with her delay in usual morning activities as the rest of her body was. She’d missed the dining hall’s breakfast hours but could easily grab a tea and scone from one of the many cafés dotting the campus. It’s what she preferred to do anyway.
Pulling up a saved search on her phone, Bonnie spent a pleasant few minutes looking through her options. She’d made a list. By the end of her summer seminar, she planned to visit every café in reasonable walking distance, rating them from best to worst.
After she settled on a teahouse whose menu boasted hearty sandwiches as well as the usual tea and pastries, Bonnie set her phone aside and dropped back onto her pillow. When she’d first learned about this job opportunity, she thought it was a dream come true—and it was. This past week had been perfect. Better than a dream, even.
And it wasn’t just the work. Bonnie never would have guessed how much she enjoyed being on her own. Even though she was an only child, she’d rarely been alone. There’d been her cousins, of course, and Cassie, as well as Gabe.
As always, the thought of Gabe caused her heart to squeeze, though this time the pain was muted, the ache brief. She was handling her breakup quite admirably, if she did say so herself. And she really did like being on her own. She’d begun to write again in earnest. Had even sketched out several plot ideas in a notebook she’d bought in an adorable stationary shop located next to the second café on her checklist.
Bonnie debated going back to that café instead, just so she could have an excuse to pop into that store again, but decided against it. She’d stick with her plan. Besides, she needed to stick to her budget. And that stationary shop was guaranteed to suck her savings dry if she let it.
In a burst of rebellious ecstasy, Bonnie decided she would go back to that stationary shop today and buy whatever her heart desired. What did she have to lose? She was on her own and only had herself to please.
* * *
After placing her order at the tea shop’s counter, Bonnie settled into one of the velvet-cushioned high-backed slipper chairs and opened her bag of treats. She even loved the bags the stationary store used, made of a thin cream-colored paper that crinkled deliciously. She pulled out the box with the pen and ink set and went to work assembling it. Blotting the freshly filled pen on a napkin, she set it aside and took out the new journal she’d selected.
Atrociously expensive, the journal was something she’d usually admire, maybe even carry around the store for a bit while perusing other items, but always put back on the shelf. Not this time. The rich leather binding was a bright bold blue. She rubbed a hand over the cover, finger tracing the words stamped on the front. A line from Northanger Abbey, one of her favorite Austen quotes. That story had crossed her thoughts often lately and felt like the perfect choice.
She was still petting the journal when a server dropped off her meal. After a bit of fussing to get the tea things to her liking, Bonnie opened to the first page. The lined paper was thick and smooth, the outer edges rimmed in gold leaf. She picked up her pen, and in between nibbles and sips, began to write.
As had happened back in her old bedroom a few months ago, her poor muse didn’t seem to know what to do first. Ideas sprouted from her brain faster than her hand could keep up. Bonnie scribbled furiously, the fresh ink unfurling onto the page like a bolt of satin. Once again, she wanted to pinch herself. Here she was, lunching in a little English tea shop, writing with the most luxurious pen on the most delectable paper. A joy bordering on delirium filled her. She didn’t think this day could get much better.
Her phone chimed, and Bonnie ignored it, continuing to write, not wanting to lose the narrative thread. Finally, muse spent, she set the pen aside and finished her tea. Her phone chimed again. Bonnie pulled it out of her purse. She’d missed a call, but there was a voice mail.
From Theo.
Her pulse quickened, fingers tingling as she clicked the replay option.
“Hi there, Bonnie. It’s me. Uh, Theo. You probably already know that I suppose, with the caller identification or whatever it’s bloody called…”
A grin crept across her face. She’d never have guessed the polished and perfect Theo could be so awkward on the phone.
“Anyhow, I’ve rung you because I was wondering if you would care to join me this evening. I’ve scored tickets to a show I think you’d enjoy. Well, um. Let me know. That’s it, then. Okay. Bye.”
There was a pause, and then the call clicked off.
Bonnie bit her lip, heart doing a jig inside her chest. She’d thought her day couldn’t get any better, but with the promise of spending time with Theo tonight, she realized she’d been wrong. They hadn’t seen each other since the kiss he’d given her on the bench. She’d thought she couldn’t handle the friends-with-benefits thing, but maybe she’d been wrong about that too.
That night, they’d left it at a kiss. Just a kiss. A friendly kiss. Between friends.
And it had been perfect. Exactly what she needed. What she needed more of.
* * *
Theo waited on the platform of the Charing Cross train station. He’d offered to drive to Cambridge and give Bonnie a lift, but true to form, she’d refused, saying it made no sense for him to go out of his way. He glanced at his watch, she was due in soon. Piccadilly Circus was a scant five-minute walk, so they’d be at the Criterion in plenty of time for curtain. He checked his jacket pocket for the tickets.
This morning at breakfast, Tabitha had mentioned heading into London to catch a show with a friend, and Theo realized that was exactly the kind of “friendly” activity he could do with Bonnie. He’d been brainstorming ideas for where to take her all week, but nothing seemed right. They’d seen a show at the Globe last summer. They’d also ridden the London Eye together already. He could take her to a museum or a gallery, but that seemed too stuffy. Besides, he wasn’t sure which ones she’d already visited. She mentioned she hadn’t seen th
e Tate, but it closed too early for an evening outing.
Rationally, Theo knew he was nixing all his ideas because he was scared Bonnie would turn him down, but when he heard his sister mention the Criterion, he knew it was brilliant. Their shows were always lively and fun, and he’d use any excuse to hear Bonnie laugh. Plus, Piccadilly had a rousing night scene, and there’d be plenty of clubs and pubs to choose from to pop into after the show. He’d offered to buy the tickets off his sister, but all the nosy minx wanted was to know who he planned to take.
He checked his watch again, grinning to himself as he recalled this morning’s conversation.
“At the Criterion? Is the show any good?”
Tabitha nodded. “It’s my second time going. And I think Gwen’s been at least twice already. It’s a hoot. Why?”
He focused on his eggs. “Dunno. Maybe I’ll go myself.”
“Good luck, the show’s booked out. Gwen thinks they might extend the run, but you never know.”
“Oh.” Theo set his fork down. So much for that idea.
“Well, don’t look so glum about it. Since when are you interested in going to the theatre anyway?”
Theo cleared his throat. “I think someone I know would like it. The show, I mean.” He drained his tea and reached for the pot. As he poured himself another cup, the weight of his sister’s stare bore down on him.
“A female someone?” Tabitha asked.
Theo ignored her, holding up the pot. “Would you like more tea?”
“What I’d like is to hear more about this mysterious someone.” Her eyes widened, brows raising. “Do you have a date?”
He lifted the pot higher. “Tea?”
Tabitha lifted an eyebrow higher. “Date?”
They held for a moment, locked in silent sibling challenge. Tabby pulled out an ace, employing one of Theo’s favorite tactics. “Tell me who you want to bring to the show, and I’ll give you my tickets.”
“What about Gwen?”
“She won’t care. I told you, we’ve already seen it. We’ll skip the play and go to SoHo.” His sister nudged her cup forward. “So? What do you say?”
Theo broke eye contact, glancing down to refill her cup. “I say my sister is a nosey parker.”
“Part of the job description,” Tabitha replied, unperturbed.
Theo set the teapot down and considered her. His sister was nosey, but she wasn’t a gossip. He could trust Tabby not to say anything to their mother. It rankled him he was worried about that in the first place, but Theo didn’t feel like stirring the hornet’s nest.
Over the past few weeks, since he’d come back from Chicago, he’d been able to fly under his mother’s marital radar, but word of him dating someone would be a blip on her screen that would have her zeroing in on her target, torpedoes at the ready.
“Fine. Yes, it’s a date.”
Tabby clapped her hands. “I knew it! It’s someone you met in the States, isn’t it?”
“Why do you say that?”
“I’m your sister, git. You’ve been acting dodgy ever since you came home from that trip.”
“I have a lot on my mind.”
Tabby gave him her best oh please look.
“Fine, yes,” he said again. “It’s someone I met in the States.”
“And she’s here in England now?”
“No, I was planning to have that Scottish bloke on the spaceship beam her up.”
A crust of toast pegged him on the cheek.
“Tabitha!” his mother barked from the doorway, and they both started. “Are you throwing food at your brother?”
“Of course not, Mama.” Tabby smiled demurely, winking at Theo. “Can I pour you some tea?”
While his sister went about preparing a cup for their mother, Theo stood and offered his arm, escorting Mama across the room before helping her into her seat at the head of the table. As he adjusted her chair, he wondered when his mother had begun to look so frail. She’d always seemed so strong, with a spine of steel, hard and unbending. Now she appeared brittle, ready to crack.
Neither mentioned their evening plans again, but after breakfast, Tabby handed off the tickets, telling him she expected details later.
As the wait for Bonnie’s train dragged on, Theo hoped he’d have something to tell. Not that he planned to share too many details with his sister. Though if he knew Tabby, she’d wheedle a few tidbits out of him. If any of the Whartons should have pursued a career in politics, it was Tabitha.
The shrill shout of the arriving train whistle scattered his thoughts, and the anxious ache in his belly was replaced with a nervous twitch in his chest. The doors slid open, and Theo sharpened his gaze, searching the mass of people departing the train cars for a tangle of curly red hair.
His chest began to tighten, heart slipping, as the number of people on the platform dwindled, and still no sign of Bonnie. Had she changed her mind? Decided she didn’t want to try the friends-with-benefits thing after all? Christ, he didn’t know if he could handle the roller coaster she put him on. Maybe it was for the best. If she decided not to come, he’d let it go.
He was supposed to be focused on other things anyway. Bonnie was a distraction he didn’t need.
“Theo!”
His breath caught at the sound of Bonnie’s voice. He turned, heart rocketing into his throat when he caught sight of her hurrying toward him. He crossed the platform, and before his brain could catch, up, he’d bent to kiss her, pressing his lips to hers.
“Hello to you too.” She laughed.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Her cheeks were pink, her face sunny, her eyes … happy. The joy he’d seen shyly peeking out earlier this week was now staring back at him in full force.
Good Lord, she was beautiful. Resisting the urge to kiss her again, he took her hand, leading her off the station platform and through the bustling crowds toward Piccadilly Circus. She didn’t protest, a fact that pleased him more than it probably should have.
“It’s like Times Square!” She gaped, spinning in a slow circle and gazing up at the giant flashing digital billboards. “A mini-version, anyway.”
“You’ve been to New York City?” Theo asked, as always, eager to learn more about her. He found himself wanting to know everything about Bonnie, each new detail another piece to her puzzle.
“Once. Ten years ago or so. I got to see Patrick Stewart play Macbeth.” Her face glowed with the memory.
“Would you have rather gone to the Globe? I didn’t think so, since we were there last summer, and they can be tricky seats to nab last minute if you don’t want to end up in the groundlings.”
“Even for a duke?” she asked.
His mouth pinched.
“I’m kidding!” she said, jostling his ribs with her elbow. “Note to self, no duke humor.”
“It’s a sore spot,” he admitted.
“You don’t have to explain.” She leaned against him. “And one cannot live on Shakespeare alone. I’m looking forward to the show.”
“Then we’d best be off.” He took her hand in his and tugged her across the square. “The show will be starting soon.”
* * *
Exiting the theatre, Bonnie relished the blast of chill night air. A sold-out show, the seats had been packed. And while the play had been great fun, the full house quickly grew stuffy.
“What did you think?” Theo asked, strolling alongside her.
“I loved it.” She grinned up at him. “Is it wrong to admit I appreciate British humor more than my native country’s?”
“Not at all.” He matched her grin. “Especially because you’re right.”
She laughed and paused at the fountain in the center of Piccadilly Square, soaking up the energy of the crowd bustling around them. “Thanks again for taking me.”
“My pleasure.”
As it had before in the hotel room in Chicago, the way Theo said those words made her pulse trip, tickling in the hollow of her throat. Her blood thicken
ed, a slow throbbing heat spreading through her. Bonnie shifted, glancing around, searching for a distraction. Her gaze landed on the winged statue at the top of the fountain. “Where’s Cupid’s arrow?”
“That’s not Cupid.” Theo stepped closer, gazing up at the statue with her.
“Fine. Eros,” she said, swapping out the Roman name for the original Greek version. And Bonnie thought she was a literary stickler.
“Not him either.” Theo shook his head, blue eyes lighting with mischief. He was enjoying this.
Bonnie stared at the statue. Wings: check. Drapey Greek loincloth thing: check. Bow: check. The only thing missing was the arrow. Who else could it be? Bonnie scanned her mental files and came up blank. “Okay, enlighten me,” she demanded begrudgingly. “If that’s not the God of Love, then who is it?”
“Eros’s brother, Anteros.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Counter-love?” She tried to decipher the root word. “So, he’s the God of what, Anti-love?”
“Right translation, wrong interpretation.” Theo smiled, leaning toward her, those dashing, devastating dimples getting up close and personal. “Think of it as counter-love, like love returned.” He bent his head lower, eyes on hers. “Anteros is the God of Requited Love.”
“Oh,” she whispered, breath escaping in a little puff.
“Do you want to know how Plato describes requited love?”
“Impress me,” she teased, already impressed.
“Counter-love is the mirror image of a lover’s feelings. Love reflected.”
“How interesting.” Her gaze dropped to his mouth, which she found even more interesting. His lips were soft yet firm, a study in paradoxes. His kisses were a paradox too, smooth and rough, tender and ravishing. She very much wanted to kiss him. Glancing up, her heart stalled, then began beating faster, pulse zigzagging through her body. Reflected in his eyes, clear as a mirror, was his desire to kiss her.
Smitten by the Brit--A Sometimes in Love Novel Page 22