Austen Box Set

by Hart, Staci

  He didn’t wait for an answer to his question, and I had none to offer as our bodies merged, my chin lifting so I wouldn’t lose the connection of his gaze. “Did he look into the depths of your eyes,” he breathed, the words brushing my lips as he peered into my very soul, “like the answers to his happiness were hidden there?”

  My eyes closed with a flutter as he trailed the tip of his nose up the bridge of mine.

  “Did he tell you how beautiful you are, Annie?” he asked.

  When he pulled away only by the smallest degree, my eyes opened again, full of desperate desire I saw reflected in his.

  “Because you are,” he said. “You are so beautiful, I can’t bear to look. You’ve left me blind and exposed, disarmed and defenseless.”

  The length of my body was flush against him, my hands on his chest, my eyes searching his and my lips tingling, my heart thumping its uneven beat.

  “Did he worship you, Annie?” he asked, his dark eyes on my lips, his hand splayed across my back, holding me against him with insistence and quiet power. “Did he?” He whispered two words, two syllables that commanded my body and soul, commanded my lips to speak the truth.

  “No.” It was a plea, a desperate request, permission and blessing.

  His lips curved into a smile as he drew a breath that brought me closer, millimeter by blessed millimeter. And those lips, those beautiful, smiling lips brushed mine, striking all else from my mind.

  The moment they touched, they became a seam, a hot, soft meld of lips coupled with a sharp intake of breath. It was demand met with demand, mine for his, his for mine, his body leaning into me and mine leaning back. My arms wound around his neck and flexed, pulling my chest against his, the soft command of his lips sweet and relieved and exalted.

  And mine matched his without thought, without expectation, only the rightness of him and the sureness of me.

  With a sweep of his tongue, my lips parted. The feeling of his tongue and mine passing each other drew a breath from deep within each of us, as if something in me had been taken and would be found in him.

  All I could do was acquiesce, and I did so with more desire than I had known I possessed.

  His lips slowed, then closed, and he kissed me once more, capturing my bottom lip gently in his.

  I opened my heavy lids and looked into his eyes with the realization that was my first true kiss and that his lips belonged to me as truly as mine belonged to him.

  “That was…” My breath trembled.

  “I’ve never…” he whispered and kissed me again, as if to test a theory.

  Our bodies wound together in answer, as if that was their natural state, the connection of our lips sparking the action without intention.

  He broke away once more, that theory proven—there was magic between us, singular to us, latent and waiting to be let free. And now that it was out, we’d never be able to bottle it back up.

  “I…I shouldn’t have—” he started.

  “Yes, oh yes, you should have. You should have a long time ago.”

  With a laugh heavy with emotion and light with relief, he kissed me again, his lips smiling against mine.

  When he let my lips go, I was thankful his arms were around me. I didn’t think I’d otherwise be able to stand.

  He took a seat, his hand holding mine, his eyes on my gloved fingers as he toyed with them.

  “What happens now?” he asked, not looking up.

  It was my turn to kneel at his feet and look into his face, colored with worry and hope. “Well, I’d like to kiss you some more. Maybe until I die.”

  Greg chuckled, but the sound was tight.

  “And tomorrow, I’d like to spend the day with you, if you’d like.”

  He watched me, his face unchanged. “What about Will?”

  I frowned. “We’re through. After tonight, I hope I never see him again.” When his worry didn’t leave, I reached for his face, peering into his eyes. “Do you believe me?”

  He turned his head to press a kiss into my palm. “It’s just been a lot of change in one night. I want to know that you’re sure before I let go of the leash on my hope.”

  “Can I tell you something?”

  He nodded.

  “It wasn’t until you that I learned to see things for what they were. All I had to do was listen to your actions, and I could see what you wanted, what you felt. I could see what was important so I could reach out and grab it. And now that I have a hold, I don’t want to let go.”

  The fear written in the lines of his face smoothed.

  “I’m just sorry I didn’t understand sooner. I didn’t think there was any way you could want me, and you were so quiet about how you felt. Will, on the other hand, is about as quiet as a tuba.”

  A small laugh bobbed his shoulders, but his lips came back together. “So all this time, all I had to do was kiss you for you to know how I felt?”

  I shrugged. “Guess so.”

  “I almost did after the day we spent together. I should have. Did you know when you came to work the next day, I was going to ask you out on a proper date?”

  My heart ached. “But I showed up with Will.”

  Greg nodded and looked back down at my hand in his. “And then…God, Annie. What was I supposed to do? You were happy, and you wanted him. What was I supposed to do?” he repeated, this time to himself.

  “There wasn’t much you could have done. I had to see Will through to the bitter end.”

  He frowned.

  “The more he acted out, the less interested I became. Every time we fought about you, he only underscored your differences and tipped the scales in your direction. Really, you should thank him,” I joked.

  His lips flattened into a line. “Never in a million years. You fought about me?”

  “The morning after the ballet, he was so jealous and angry, and we got into an argument before I left for work.”

  A dark, guilty shadow passed behind his eyes. “That day was unbearable.”

  “It was. But it’s behind us. We’re here now, together. And I really want to kiss you some more. Can I please kiss you some more?”

  He laughed and nodded again, and into his arms I went. And kissing we did. We kissed until we were breathless and our bodies were twisted together so completely, we were left a tangle of arms and legs. I untied his cravat with a whisper of linen and kissed the soft skin of his neck. He ran his fingers across the neckline of my dress, sending a shudder of pleasure down my body. He pulled off my gloves, loosening them finger by finger, sliding them from my arms so I could touch the hot skin of his chest in the slight opening his shirt made.

  But there was no more than that and no expectation, no urgency. Only moments that we lived in fully, without thought or care for more, content in exactly what we had.

  And when the hour was late, he took off his wool coat and slipped it over my shoulders, and I lay on his chest, my head tucked in the curve of his neck, and fell asleep.

  Old Lies

  Greg

  I woke, creeping from dreams so seamlessly that, for a moment, I believed Annie in my arms was a fantasy created by my sleeping mind.

  But she wasn’t. She was warm and small, curled into my chest. I could feel the rise and fall of her ribs as she breathed the long, slow rhythm of sleep. And for a long while, I just lay there, committing every detail to memory.

  She stirred, nestling into me, nuzzling her face in my chest, her arms folded between us.

  I kissed her hair and tightened my arms.

  She stilled, and I thought she’d gone back to sleep, which was perfectly fine with me. I could hold her like that forever.

  “Am I dreaming?” she asked, her voice raspy.

  “I hope not.”

  She chuckled and pressed a kiss to the bare skin under the hollow of my throat. “You know, crossing this off my list was the best unexpected surprise of my life.”

  “Crossing what off?”

  “Waking up with a man, for starters.”


  “For starters?”

  Annie leaned back to gaze upon my face, and I gazed upon hers with wonder and a sense of belonging.

  “First breakup.”

  I scoffed.

  “First kiss.”

  “I wasn’t your first.” The statement wasn’t in any way light or without regret.

  “As far as I’m concerned, it was. Will never kissed me like that. Not once.”

  “Tell me how horrible it was. I need more reasons to hate him.”

  She laughed softly, her cheeks high and rosy. “It was like kissing the back of my hand. I felt nothing other than anxiety that I was doing it wrong, probably because I felt nothing. I knew I should have felt something. But,” she shrugged, “nada.”

  “And kissing me?”

  “A religious experience.”

  I tightened my arms and leaned into her, pinning her against the back of the couch with a kiss that left her legs tangled in mine and her fingers in my hair.

  She sighed when I released her, her heavy-lidded eyes meeting mine with a smile. “Will was all pyrotechnics and no substance. You, Greg Brandon, are both and a hundred other brilliant things.”

  “Will is the king of flashy paint jobs. You aren’t the first girl he’s dazzled.”

  “No, I’m not, and I doubt I’ll be the last.”

  I held her for a moment, staring up at the rafters and air ducts of the exposed ceiling. “Is it really over?” I asked, plagued by uncertainty.

  “Of course it’s over,” she said. “All I want is you.” The sincerity in her voice quieted my fears without another word.

  The ache in my chest was back, but where it used to be broken with longing, it was now tight with joy.

  “Oh! Can we take a picture?”

  I smiled. “Absolutely.”

  She sat, reaching for her little bag that had hung from her wrist all night, and a few minutes later, we had taken five pictures of the two of us, one of us kissing, her hands on my face and my arm extended as far as I could reach. I only hoped I caught it.

  We set them on the table and waited for them to develop.

  “I have a confession to make,” I said, reaching for my wallet on the table.

  “Oh?”

  “Mhmm.” I unfolded it, opening the long pocket and pulling out the little photo I’d taken of her on the steps of The Met. There was so much joy in that picture, in her tipped chin and high cheeks, her closed eyes and the flash of her smile, wide and open as she laughed.

  She took it from my fingers, her face soft and awed. “You kept it?”

  “It’s been with me ever since I took it.” You’ve been in my heart ever since I met you.

  Her eyes told me she’d heard the silent admission, and when she reached for me, when she kissed me, she answered me with yes after yes until we were stretched out on the couch again, Annie across my chest.

  When she broke the kiss, it was to nestle under my chin. She sighed. I sighed. We lay in the quiet.

  My phone rang from the table next to the couch, and I remembered our predicament, reaching for it. Cam’s name was on the screen.

  “Hey,” I answered.

  “Oh my God, Greg. I am so sorry.”

  I moved to sit, and Annie moved too, situating herself next to me, yawning.

  “It’s all right. But what the hell happened?”

  She sighed, and I heard her shuffling around on the other end of the line. “I didn’t realize my ringer was turned all the way down. I can’t believe Beau locked you in. Rose not answering, I can understand—she sleeps like she’s actually dead.”

  I humphed a laugh. “Beau I can believe, which is exactly why I will never be nominating him for a promotion. Are you heading this way?”

  “As fast as I can. And don’t think you’re going to get out of there without telling me what happened with Annie.”

  I glanced at her, smirking. “Then I’ll start working on my story.”

  We said goodbye and hung up. Annie was checking her phone with her face drawn.

  “Everything okay?” I asked, not sure I wanted to know the answer.

  “Will messaged me—he’s trying to apologize. He wants to see me.”

  A warning shot fired down my spine.

  She sighed heavily. “I think I’ve got to meet him. Hear him out and let him say his piece, and then I’ll tell him again it’s through.”

  “You can’t text him?”

  Annie made a face. “Last night, we were all shouting at each other and throwing around demands. I think I owe it to him to tell him face-to-face that it’s over, don’t you?”

  “I don’t think you owe him a goddamn thing.”

  Annie nodded, her long fingers moving to my vest to smooth it. “That’s fair, but…would you think worse of me if I said I wanted to? I’d like to break it off clean. I’d like to treat him like I’d want to be treated.”

  It was my turn to sigh, and I angled toward her to press a kiss to her temple. “No, I wouldn’t think worse of you at all.”

  She leaned into me. “I just have to figure out where to meet him.”

  “Here,” I said without hesitation.

  “I thought he was permabanned.”

  “I’ll make this one-time exception. As much as I want to be here when it happens, I don’t think I can be in the same building with him without doing something I shouldn’t. And if I’m not going to be present, at least there will be people here I trust.”

  “What do you think he’s going to do? Throw me over his shoulder and carry me back to his cave?” she asked on a laugh.

  I didn’t even crack a smile. “Just humor me, Annie.”

  “All right,” she conceded with trust behind her eyes, behind the words.

  “Message him. Meet up as soon as you can. Because the second it’s through, I want to see you. I want every minute, every second I can get.” My voice trailed off to a whisper.

  “Then you’ll have it.”

  And I cradled her small face in my hands and kissed her.

  A half an hour later, Cam had liberated us, and our tale had been recounted in broad strokes that seemed to satisfy her, if her dreamy smile was any indicator. We ran the plan to have Will come to the store by Cam, and Annie set up a time. And once that was all done, it was time to go.

  She donned her yellow peacoat and pink hat and mittens, and we hopped on my board at her insistence. I didn’t think either of us wanted to say goodbye, and even though it was cold, a cab ride just seemed too fast. So we rode through Central Park on my skateboard in historical costumes, my tails flapping and cravat keeping my neck warm, the train of her gorgeous ballgown bustled and her gloved hands around my waist.

  Everything had changed in one night with a few words and a kiss.

  When we reached her building, I kissed her on the sidewalk, kissed her like my life depended on it, kissed her like I’d never see her again, like I needed to brand my name on her heart so she wouldn’t forget me. And as we kissed, the snow began to fall.

  The wonderment on her face when she saw her first snow was perhaps the loveliest thing I’d ever seen in my life.

  We took a picture with her little camera, kissing goodbye once more before she finally went inside. I stood on the sidewalk with my hands in my coat pockets as I watched her walk into the building, waving back when she looked over her shoulder before passing through the doors.

  Only then did I ride away.

  By the time I made it home, I was exhausted and freezing and happy beyond measure. The house was asleep, and the shower was long and hot. And once I lay down in bed, there was no keeping me awake.

  * * *

  I woke a few hours later, feeling groggy and hungry for more sleep, but the second Annie touched my thoughts, I was fully alert. I reached for my phone, finding a text from her that was only a few minutes old.

  Heading to Wasted Words. Text me when you’re up. <3

  I smiled, but the expression faded as I thought about her meeting Will
. Everything had happened so fast, and part of me still wondered if she might change her mind. Will talked a good game, and Annie took everything at face value.

  It was a quality I loved about her just as much as I found it dangerous.

  I texted her back to wish her luck before I sighed and climbed out of bed.

  Sarah was sitting in the quiet living room, surrounded by textbooks. A spiral notebook lay on her thighs, and she looked up from jotting in it. “Hey. You slept late.”

  “Long night.” I sat in the armchair next to the couch. “Where is everybody?”

  “Tim’s sawing logs, and Dad ran to the store. Well, maybe not ran, but you know.”

  I smiled, imagining Dad running to do anything.

  “So was it a good long night or a bad one?”

  “Started off bad, ended good. Very good.”

  Her brows rose. “Oh?”

  “Me and Annie.”

  A smile broke out on her face. “Oh my God, are you serious?”

  I nodded, feeling like a million bucks. “It’s a long story, but yeah. She’s dumping Will now.”

  Sarah’s face paled. “Is she?”

  “Yeah, at the bookstore. He wanted to apologize for being a dick and getting kicked out of the bar last night, and she thought she should break up with him in person.”

  The color kept draining from her face.

  I frowned. “You okay?”

  She cleared her throat and looked at her notebook like she might find a suitable response there. “Yeah. For sure.”

  “That was real convincing.”

  She tried to smile. “Just feels familiar, that’s all. Will doesn’t always take no for an answer.”

  My heart jolted. “What do you mean?”

  “Just that…he’s used to getting his way. And when he wants something, he’s not one to let it go.”

  “Do you think he’s going to push her? Fight for her?”

  “He won’t fight for anything but himself and what he thinks is owed to him.”

  I ran a hand over my mouth, worried and filled with dread. But, the more I thought about it, the surer I was of one thing. “Annie won’t go back to him.”