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Charming Jane_A Reverse Harem Romance

Page 6

by Kristin Coley


  “I’m hungry.” A low rumble had her clutching her stomach as a mortified blush painted her cheeks. I laughed at the sight, happier than I’d been in a long time, and wrapped my arm around her.

  “I don’t think your current attire will pass muster with the stuffed suits in the restaurant, but room service should serve us well. What say you, Michael?” I guided her to the sofa and kneeled in front of her. She watched me like a hawk as I reached for the hem of her pants. I rolled the extra length of them up and tucked it into the overly large socks she wore.

  Her quiet thank you was almost drowned out by Michael’s reply, but I caught it and winked.

  “Room service is fine with me, but if you wish to dine in the restaurant, do not be concerned by your attire. I assure you, no one will make mention of it while you are with us,” Michael stated, his eyes glinting with ruthless determination.

  “This is true. Michael has the entire staff here shaking in their boots.” I wiggled my eyebrows dramatically, and she giggled.

  “I’d like to try room service. I’ve never had it before. I think it would be fun to have someone bring you food.” She grinned, and then pointed to her face. “Plus, I’d hate to draw any more attention to myself.”

  “Don’t concern yourself about that. We’ve weathered many a storm.” I snapped the room service menu open theatrically and began to read from it.

  “Chicken Liver Pate with moscato gelee,” I suggested my voice stately.

  “Tagliatelle, perhaps? Slow cooked rabbit and porcini mushrooms,” I continued, maintaining the voice.

  She shook her head, face scrunched in distaste at the different options I presented.

  “I think you’re making that stuff up. Let me see,” she said, grabbing for the menu.

  I held it out of reach and Michael picked up where I left off, lowering his voice dramatically.

  “Squid ink Tagliolini. Ah, no. Bucatini All’ Amatriciana is a much better choice.”

  “Do any of those translate to cheeseburger?” she demanded as her stomach let out another growl.

  “I’m afraid not.” Michael gave her an apologetic frown, and I snorted as she groaned.

  “So dramatic, love. I guess it’s a good thing we weren’t actually reading the menu then.” She responded to my admission by jerking the menu out of my hand.

  “Ha! They do have a hamburger, the Roux burger. Good enough for me. Think they’ll add cheese?” She squinted at the menu, running her finger underneath the words as she read. She didn’t read aloud, but I noticed she mouthed the words as she went.

  “I’m positive they’ll give you whatever you ask.” The words must have come out a little more seriously than I intended since she glanced up at me. I gestured to the menu to distract her. “I believe I saw cookies and milk on there. Perhaps we should do dessert before dinner again.”

  She gave me a bright smile and nodded.

  “What do y’all want?”

  “Y’all. A lovely Southern term, and from your ease of using it, I take it one you are familiar with. Where are you from?” Michael asked her curiously.

  “The great state of Georgia, and one that is Southern to its core,” she answered proudly.

  “It occurs to me we don’t know a great deal about one another. We shall rectify that over dinner.”

  She grinned at Michael’s stiffly worded request and nodded.

  “You have the most interesting way with words. Both of you.” She glanced between us and handed me the menu back.

  “Us? The things I’ve heard since I’ve been in New Orleans. Utter absurdity.” I tossed the menu down, already familiar with the contents and knowing what I’d have.

  Michael stepped over to the phone to place our order, meeting my eye with a lift of his eyebrow. I nodded and he turned to confirm Jane’s order.

  “And three orders of your milk and cookies.” He finished, and Jane tucked her head into her knees with a huge grin. Her smile was contagious as I witnessed her dimples showcased in full effect.

  “Now, tell us about yourself.” Michael settled in the chair across from us, his stare intent. Jane blinked under the full force of Michael’s attention before turning to me with wide eyes.

  “There’s not much to tell. I lead a pretty boring life,” she managed to say, her head propped on her knees as she squeezed herself into the smallest space possible.

  “I doubt that. So far, I’ve found you fascinating. You’ve been on mission trips? That must have been interesting,” I encouraged her, watching as she bit her cheek doubtfully at my comment.

  “Mission trips aren’t nearly as interesting as you would think. They’re kind of depressing actually, and not much fun.” She shook her head. “Not to say we weren’t doing God’s work and it wasn’t important, but it would have been nice to spend the occasional holiday at home. Some of the worst days of my life were on mission trips.”

  “And today? Does this not count as the worst day of your life?” Michael leaned forward curiously, and I examined her face as she thought about it. Finally, she shook her head.

  “Nope.” She paused and then admitted, “It could have been, but it worked out. At least … so far.” Her eyes cut to mine, and I pointed to myself.

  “Moi? You look toward me? Why?”

  She laughed at my theatrics as I intended, shaking her head. “You have heartbreak written all over you, Ian …” She tilted her head and said, “You know I don’t know your last name. I think I’ll need it. In the South, we use your full name to yell at you.”

  “That does not give me any incentive to tell you, Jane,” I replied, shaking my head forcefully.

  “Ian Jacob Wright,” Michael admitted, a bit too freely for my taste.

  “Betrayal! And from my own blood.” I shook my head in mock disappointment as Jane bit back a smile. A moment later, she tilted her head toward Michael with an inquiring raise of her eyebrow.

  “Michael Henry Wright.” I pointed to him accusingly. “And I’ll wager you use his full name before you use mine.”

  “I think not, brother.” Michael frowned disbelievingly, which caused me to roll my eyes.

  “Don’t let him fool you, love. He may be an angel compared to me, but that doesn’t mean the devil doesn’t reside within him as well.”

  “Mmhmm. Now back to what we were discussing. If today isn’t your worst day ever … and I would like to know why you wouldn’t qualify this one as such … what was the worst day?” Michael prodded, and my eyes narrowed at how intently he gazed at Jane.

  Her uncomfortable look prompted me to say, “Michael, your insatiable curiosity may be a bit much. Perhaps our guest doesn’t wish to talk about her worst day or even this one, especially not before dinner.” My warning caused a contrite expression to cross his face, and he turned to Jane.

  “He’s correct, my dear. I do apologize for prying into your business.”

  She smiled as she looked between us, a curious expression on her face. “You bring a new level to gentlemanly manners. I don’t mind telling you, but it’s kind of gross.” She gave us a rueful look. “Especially before dinner.”

  “Now, I must know. Continue.” I waved at her, and she rolled her eyes.

  “We went on a mission trip to Chile when I was thirteen. Now, by that point I was accustomed to traveling to devastated areas and knew the routine. Number one rule is: Don’t drink the water; a fact I was well aware of. But they served us a welcome feast, and I don’t know if it was the water or something else that made our entire crew horribly sick.” She closed her eyes as she recalled the events. “I don’t remember ever being as sick in my entire life as I was for those three days. Now we were in the South American jungle. There were no bathrooms or even toilet paper, not enough anyway. It was miserable and disgusting, and that was before I got my period on the second day.” She peeked at us to gauge our reactions, and we must have appeared suitably horrified, because she grinned. “So, if you ever want to know what tops getting attacked and stranded in a
strange city, it’s getting food poisoning in a third world country.”

  “Dear God.” Michael’s shudder caused her to chuckle.

  “Today was scary, but on the scale of sheer misery, it doesn’t even register.”

  “You have my sympathy. I don’t think even my worst drunken hangovers could compete.” I lifted a glass to her. “Cheers! You’ve topped my worst day.”

  “You really don’t consider today terrible do you?” Michael was perplexed by her ease, and I could see it was bothering him.

  “She’s stalwart, like us. You should be proud, brother. You might have found the only woman who can handle the Wright brothers.”

  “That explains so much about you,” Jane commented casually, shifting to cross her legs on the couch. “Your last name is Wright. You never had a chance to be anything less than arrogant.”

  A snort escaped me as Michael gave her a considering look. “I’m not arrogant.”

  “Uh huh.” She popped a candy in her mouth and flashed him a smile.

  “I don’t think she believes you, brother.”

  “And back to your question about why this isn’t the worst day.” Her words halted Michael’s oncoming argument. Jane didn’t know it yet, but she’d hit on one of Michael’s tender spots. He despised the implication of arrogance, even as he represented it. “Yes, it was bad and I encountered two really awful men, but I also met two incredible men who have shown me nothing but kindness and worked to help me, which is much more important. I’d rather be grateful for the good.”

  A knock on the door followed her statement and disrupted whatever Michael was about to say. I leaned over and brushed a tendril of her hair off her cheek. She’d pulled it up in a loose ponytail when she’d changed and one stubborn strand clung to her face. She shivered at the brush of my fingers, so I rubbed my thumb along her jaw before pulling back.

  “You are exceptional, Jane.” The faintest hint of pink bloomed on her cheeks at my compliment and indicated she was not immune to me, any more than I was to her.

  The waiter unloaded the room service cart onto the low table in front of us, the scent of our meal causing Jane’s stomach to rumble once again. Michael tipped the waiter on his way out and came over to us.

  “Are we partaking of dessert first?” An eager nod from Jane had me passing her a glass of milk, along with a cookie.

  “It’s warm.” She groaned, biting into the chocolate chip cookie. At the sound, I offered her my cookie, and she graced me with a questioning look.

  “I believe I’ll find more enjoyment watching you eat my cookie than if I ate it myself.” She snatched the cookie from my hand with narrowed eyes.

  “Is that some type of innuendo? Remember rule number three.”

  “How could I forget? You single-handedly ruined all of my summer plans with your list of rules.” She frowned, looking upset at my declaration, and handed my cookie back to me.

  “We’ll have fun. You’ll see. Now eat your cookie.”

  “It is quite good,” Michael commented, taking a swig of milk. “I don’t remember the last time I had milk and cookies. And before dinner! I’m positive that’s never happened.”

  “Take it easy there, brother. You don’t want to get too wild.” I proceeded to dunk my cookie in the milk, to Jane’s consternation. She eyed me heavily, but didn’t comment as I took a bite of the now soggy cookie and washed it down with milk.

  Once we’d moved past the dessert portion of the evening, Jane felt it was our turn to divulge information about ourselves.

  “Tell me about yourself.” She popped a French fry in her mouth, and gave me a sideways glance.

  “I’m a Pisces, not really the type for long walks on the beach, but I do love a good pub crawl,” I paused and pointed to her. “And a good shag. Can’t neglect to mention that or a spot of bourbon, on occasion.”

  A snort from Michael along with him repeating, “On occasion,” interrupted me, and I responded with a lift of my eyebrow.

  He gave me a nonchalant wave, “Continue.”

  A tight smile was my reply, as I said, “Surprisingly, I’ve found some of the best bourbon happens to be in this town.”

  “Good to know.” She nodded reflexively, her cheeseburger frozen midway between her plate and mouth. I indicated it, “May I?”

  She held it out to me and I stole a bite. “Good choice, love.”

  I offered her a bite of my red fish, my eyes tracing her lips as she delicately ate it off my fork. She nodded enthusiastically. “That’s very good. I’ll get that next time.” She then proceeded to steal a shrimp off Michael’s plate.

  His austere glance had her offering him her cheeseburger as she said, “It looked lonely.”

  His lips twitched as he accepted her offering and took a bite.

  “I believe that’s the first time I’ve ever witnessed you eat a hamburger, Michael. How is it?”

  He chewed slowly before he replied, “It’s interesting. Surprisingly good.”

  “Wait, are you serious?” She gave him a wide-eyed look. “How can you never have eaten a cheeseburger? What else haven’t you eaten?”

  “I don’t generally eat foods that require being picked up with your hands,” he admitted, picking up his own fork.

  “So, no pizza? Hot dogs? Sandwiches? Po’boys? I thought you got a po’boy at lunch.”

  “No, he ordered the shrimp creole,” I answered for him, smirking at his look of discomfort.

  “Well, we have to fix that,” Jane declared, much to Michael’s consternation.

  “I don’t believe I need any assistance with my dining habits,” he replied repressively.

  “Oh, but you do.” Jane nodded with wide eyes. “Trust me. You’re missing out. I think this is the perfect opportunity to branch out. You seem very straight-laced, Michael. Can I call you Mike?”

  “No.”

  She deflated at his immediate rejection, and Michael relented ... slightly.

  “Perhaps we can try more casual fare,” he suggested, and I fought a laugh at the sway she already held over him. He accused me of being taken with her, but he caved at the merest hint of her unhappiness.

  She immediately perked up at his concession, but was smart enough not to push it.

  “Great! So, Ian told me about himself.” She gave me an uncertain look, to which I responded with a wink. She blushed and continued, “Now it’s your turn.”

  “I’m not arrogant, and I have no idea what my astrological sign is,” he told her bluntly, and a laugh spilled out of me. I knew he’d come back to the arrogant comment eventually. Michael didn’t let things go easily.

  “Okaaaay.” Jane took another bite of her burger and chewed slowly. Apparently, she was unwilling to continue to push for information after Michael shut her down. I gave him a pointed look, and he closed his eyes in irritation.

  “We attended boarding schools for most of our formative years. Luckily, we were at the same one until I went to university. It’s one of the reasons we’re so close.”

  “So, you didn’t stay at home with your family?” She seemed shocked by the idea that children would be sent away to be educated. A glimpse into how different her own family life was from ours.

  “No, we were an inconvenience to our parents. Children should be seen and not heard,” I answered bitterly. My nose twitched at the sheen of tears my words brought to her eyes, and I made an effort to lighten the moment. “What about you? Did you go to high school with a bunch of jocks and hillbillies? Are you a born again virgin, by chance?”

  “Ian! No, I’m not a born again virgin. What is that even? I was homeschooled most of my school years, but I did attend a normal high school.”

  “So … virgin?” I prodded.

  “Ian, she hasn’t even been here for twenty-four hours,” Michael admonished, as I grinned at the sight of Jane’s mouth hanging open. “A change of subject please.”

  I gave an exaggerated sigh and pursed my lips. I didn’t imagine the faintest flicker of h
er eyes to my mouth as I did so, and felt my lips curl up in response as I did what he asked.

  “What college are you attending? Perhaps I can offer some tips. I’ve been to numerous universities.”

  “Do not take advice from my brother, unless you wish to find the quickest way to be expelled.”

  “It’s an all-women’s college. Agnes Scott.”

  “Agnes. What a lovely name! No telling what manner of hi-jinx you’ll get up to there.”

  “It’s a very respectable school,” she defended, to my amusement.

  “Of that, I have no doubt. But fun? I somehow doubt it.”

  “Some consider university a place to learn, not party, brother,” Michael responded bitingly.

  “It was the only one my parents and I agreed on,” Jane interjected with a faint grimace.

  “And the truth comes out.” I responded with a flick of my fingers, somehow unsurprised that her parents had played a large part in the choice. “Will they be attending with you, as well?”

  “No, they’re in Africa, remember?” Her tart response had my eyes narrowing in surprised admiration. I’d witnessed her defend herself from a physical attack, but it was refreshing to see her do the same with a verbal one. It was rare anyone spoke back to my brother and me. Too many wanted something from us, to ever take a chance on offending either of us. She, however, didn’t feel the same way.

  She held my gaze, showing a level of self-respect I hadn’t expected.

  “I do believe you’ve met your match, Ian.” Michael’s amused words had the effect of breaking our stare-down, and I favored him with an amused smirk.

  “I have no doubt she’s a fitting match for both of us. One who will keep us on our toes,” I replied, noticing she flushed at my answer.

  I stacked our empty dishes on the room service cart, waving Jane back as she moved to assist.

  “No need, Jane. Room service I’m quite good at. Now, washing dishes is another matter. I’d be forced to demand your help in that instance.” My words served to garner a smile from her, and I pushed the cart into the elevator. On my return, I watched her endeavor to smother a yawn, her eyes blinking heavily.

 

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