Her eyes sparked and he was sure he was in for a tongue-lashing, but then she simply nodded and said, “I will. See you at church tomorrow.”
Crew inclined his chin in acknowledgment and stepped back. She backed into the circle drive next to his truck. Stopping for a brief second, she met his gaze again. Crew simply stared at her. She was leaving and there was no way for him to stop her.
She dropped the vehicle into gear and drove away. He watched her go until the Cherokee and all his hopes and dreams seemed to disappear into the sunset. Pushing out a slow breath, he walked up the porch steps to go check on Clint. Crew would be fine, and so would Harley. If only his heart agreed with him.
Harley couldn’t see clearly as she pulled out of the ranch yard. Why did Crew have to show up right then of all times? Jerk. She blinked but couldn’t clear the image of him in that nice-fitting Henley. Ooh, working on a ranch had been very, very good to him. But his perfect muscles weren’t what got to her. When he stopped her, she was certain he’d try to convince her not to go out with James. But no. He was just worried about her being careful. Ugh.
Her phone rang and she pushed the button on the steering wheel, glad the car recognized her phone. “Hello.”
“Harley, it’s Sierra!”
“Oh my goodness. I’ve missed you! What are you up to?”
“Well, girl, I have some exciting news. I think Parker is going to propose soon.” She squealed, and Harley couldn’t have been happier. Sierra was one of her girls’ camp friends and she loved her like a sister. They’d made the Jane Austen Pact together and Harley was pretty certain Sierra would be one of the first of the group to keep it. Parker wasn’t an Englishman, but he sounded like a proper gentleman who would give Sierra the security she craved. Her dear friend had been through some hard things in life.
“Yeah, baby! Oh, you have to call me the second it happens.”
“Maybe give me a few seconds to kiss him first.” Sierra let out a dreamy sigh.
Harley laughed. “Okay, gotcha. Smooch that hot man, but then the very next day I get a phone call, do you understand me, friend?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Sierra had the cutest Southern accent. “What about you? Any hot men to report on?”
Harley’s mind swung to Crew. He was beyond hot, but not anything close to what a debonair man from the pact should be. “Um … I have a date with an Englishman tonight.”
“Ooh, do tell.”
“Yeah, he’s great. I met him on the plane.” The scenery along Highway 89 was gorgeous—mountain peaks, the river, pine trees. Why could Harley only see Crew?
“The plane? Where are you?”
“Wyoming. I went home.” She cleared her throat and swallowed hard. Should she share about her dad? She almost got it out, but Sierra was quicker.
“What’s an Englishman doing in Wyoming?”
“He’s an artist. His work is in several studios in Jackson Hole.” She sighed with relief. Sierra would be compassionate and sweet about her dad, but Harley didn’t mind not talking about it. Talking about it would make it real.
“Ooh, impressive. And where in England is he from?”
“You won’t believe this, Sierra. He’s from Cambridge—and I haven’t had a chance to tell you I got accepted there for my master’s program!” She was the one squealing now. “I’ll be in England for an entire year!”
“Oh my goodness! I’m so happy for you right now.”
Harley navigated the gentle corners of the road and smiled. “Well, I’m happier for you. Tell me more about this dream guy who’s going to propose. I don’t even know his last name!”
Sierra talked her through the drive. It didn’t take much encouragement to get her to talk about Parker.
Harley pulled into the Four Seasons parking lot and shut off the motor. “I’d better go, sweet friend. I’m here.”
“Have the best time, and I want details!”
“You need to spill the details first.” She laughed. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Hugs!” Sierra hung up.
Harley took a deep breath and walked through the parking lot to the front of the hotel. The doorman greeted her and swung the door wide. As she approached the restaurant, uncertainty hit her. What did she even know about this guy? She’d known Crew her entire life. What was she thinking, meeting up with someone she hardly knew? She shook her head. There was no danger going to dinner, being a little adventurous. Crew was just putting doubts in her head.
She gave the maître d’ her name. “Your companion is already here,” he told her. He gestured, and she followed him through the restaurant to a side table.
The restaurant was typical Jackson Hole with wood everywhere, on the ceiling and the walls, huge wooden beams framing the windows. The evening sun shone through the massive windows, and Harley noticed couples sitting on the patio. It was a perfect night for it and she almost asked if there were any tables open, but they reached James and he stood, beaming at her.
“Aren’t you absolutely stunning?” he asked.
Harley wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. “Thank you. You look very nice, as well.” And he did, wearing a starched white shirt, a navy-blue suit coat, and a thin, dark tie. She tried to remember if she’d ever seen Crew in a suit and tie. That would be a vision. Didn’t he just wear a shirt and tie with black Levis to church? Even that looked fabulous, though. Stop it, Harley.
James got her chair and sat next to her. “I took the liberty of ordering appetizers and the Cabernet Sauvignon.”
“Oh, I don’t drink,” she said quickly. “Water will be fine for me.”
“You don’t drink?” He smirked at her. “Not sure how you’re going to survive a master’s at Cambridge without alcohol.”
“Luckily for me, I’m near brilliant and don’t need alcohol to turn to.” She returned his smirk. “Did you graduate from there?”
“I did. Undergrad in the arts, but a master’s in business. I wanted to know how to not just paint well but succeed at selling my work also.”
Harley nodded, impressed. “I’d love to see your work sometime.”
“It would love to be seen by you.”
“I love to design and create also.”
“What is it you create?”
Harley wrapped her hand around the cool water glass, rubbing at the condensation. She considered telling him about the house plans she liked to draw for therapy, but that was a personal thing and wouldn’t ever be her career. “Jewelry.”
He arched an eyebrow and looked down at his plate, took a sip of water, and then offered her an oyster. He never said one word about her jewelry business. Was that somehow beneath him and his artistic genius? Her neck felt hot as she self-consciously touched her necklace. Her jewelry was gorgeous, sold for top dollar, and she felt like it was an art form. She thanked him and tried the oyster, liking the apple cider and lemon flavoring but struggling with the texture.
James took a sip of his wine, his eyes traveling over her face and down across her shoulders and chest, lingering on her neck. “You’re extremely lovely, Harley.”
She smiled, but it was stiff. His compliment felt as slimy as the oyster she’d just eaten. “And surprisingly enough, I have a brain in my head too.”
“I’m sure you do.” His smile was placating now. “What is your field of expertise again?”
“Business.”
Dinner passed pleasantly enough as she plied him with questions about the school and town of Cambridge, but when he walked her out to her car an hour and a half later, Harley wasn’t sure if she wanted a repeat. The only things to commend James on were his success, his accent, and his knowledge of Cambridge. Her first date with a true Englishman hadn’t turned out anywhere close to what she’d dreamed of. Surely they weren’t all so condescending.
“What prompted you not to use the valet service?” he asked as they walked through the parking lot.
She shrugged. “Walking never hurts.”
He actually s
tepped back and glanced down at her legs. “Definitely didn’t hurt those beautiful legs.”
“James … look.” Harley stopped next to the Cherokee. “I appreciate dinner, but I don’t appreciate being blatantly checked out.”
His eyebrows shot up and he lifted his hands. “My apologies. I only meant to compliment.”
Harley blew out a breath. She was being too sensitive, and all she could think about was how Crew’s compliments warmed her to the core. Why did James’s compliments make her feel cold and small?
“I had a smashing time,” he said.
“Thank you for dinner.” She clicked the unlock button and slid into the Cherokee.
Unfortunately, James grabbed the door before she could close it. “Next Saturday? Blue Lion?”
“Um, let me see how my week goes. I don’t think I told you, but my dad has cancer and I want to spend a lot of time with him.”
He nodded cordially. “That’s understandable.”
She tugged on the door and he let it go. She hurried to start the car and pull away, ready to be done with this night. Please let there be more interesting and less pompous Englishmen in Cambridge.
Then she chastised herself. Elizabeth had assumed Mr. Darcy was a pompous jerk until she truly got to know him. Should she give James another chance? Hmm. Jane Austen always had a lot of wisdom. Another dinner wouldn’t kill her, and she had enjoyed learning more about Cambridge. She sighed and pushed the gas pedal down, anxious to be home.
Chapter Six
Harley got home late and checked on her dad. Her parents were snoring, each with their own pattern, it made her smile. She tried to lay down but couldn’t sleep. She pulled out her second suitcase, which was loaded with all her jewelry-making supplies, and got to work filling some orders. It was a good release and therapy to be creative. Sometimes she let herself picture giving up her dreams of being a CEO or marketing director for a large corporation and imagine she’d gone into drafting and home design instead. She loved homes and would give anything to be the one drafting the plans, maybe even dabbling in interior design. She could continue designing her jewelry on the side. It was so fulfilling to create her pieces and see women rave about them. But her path was set and she needed to focus on graduating, getting a job with a Fortune 500 company and traveling the world. She wasn’t in any hurry to settle down; she could wait until she found the perfect debonair man. Crew’s smile entered her mind’s eye, and she couldn’t force it out. She imagined him holding her in his arms before he dipped her ponytail in the cold river. As her mind wandered, she worked until after four a.m.
“Harley! Harley!” Ryker was pushing at her shoulder. “Get up, girl. You’re going to be late for church.”
Harley sat upright, her brother swimming in and out of her vision. She sank back down into her pillows. “I can’t. Too tired.”
“Get a move on. Dad wants his family together at church.” The seriousness of Ryker’s tone tugged at her. How many more Sundays would her dad be able to make it to church?
“What time is it?” she mumbled, pushing the covers back.
“9:30. Hurry or I’ll leave your butt.” He winked at her and strode from the room.
Harley sprang out of bed. Church started at ten a.m. and was ten minutes away. She showered in record time, not washing her hair. Putting on minimal makeup, she swept her hair into a messy bun and slipped into a long, dusty blue sundress, adding a chunky deep green necklace and bracelet to bring in more color. She eyed herself critically in the mirror, but there just wasn’t time. It was more important to get there for her dad, but oh, she hated the thought of not looking good for Crew. She shook her head. What Crew thought shouldn’t matter, and it wasn’t fair of her to want him to want her when she couldn’t return the sentiment.
Running down the stairs, Harley noted that the house was empty, confirming that everyone was waiting in the garage for her. She slipped into some sandals and ran to the Cherokee. Ryker was in the driver’s seat and her dad sat in the passenger seat. She climbed in back with her mom. “Sorry. I was up late,” she rushed out.
Her dad looked pretty good today. He hadn’t shaven, but he wore a gray button-down shirt and tie and had more color in his face. It’d been a hard adjustment this week, seeing him mostly sit in his chair and tease her mom. All her life, he’d worked nonstop and only teased them at mealtimes and bedtime.
“Up late smooching some guy from England?” her dad asked as Ryker pulled out of the garage.
Harley laughed. “No. I got home about ten and worked until four.”
“Ooh.” Her mom grabbed her hand. “I can’t wait to see what you created. All the church ladies have been hoping you’ll fill their orders now that you’re home.”
“Sure, Mama, but don’t they know they can order online and I’ll ship everything right to their door?”
She waved a hand. “They don’t take to that online business.”
Harley had to smile. Only in Wyoming did elderly ladies still distrust computers and the Internet.
“How was the hot date?” Ryker asked.
“Not so hot.” She shrugged. “Maybe I just need to give him another chance. Elizabeth didn’t like Mr. Darcy at first.”
Ryker groaned, and her dad rolled his eyes but smiled. Her mom nodded. “That’s right. You should never go with first impressions. Did he ask you out again?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, you’d better go for it, love. You’ll never regret shooting for the stars.”
Harley nodded, but she wasn’t sure if James was a shining star or a Vegas imitation. He sure hadn’t been too impressive last night.
“So where’s your dream place to work after you get your master’s?” her dad asked.
They discussed several of the twenty-five Fortune 500 companies located in England, and she really appreciated their interest and excitement about her prospects. It seemed maybe her family finally understood that she was going to stay in England after school. The ten-minute drive passed quickly and they arrived at the church in the center of Alpine.
Ryker pulled right up front and jumped out. “Sis, do you mind parking the car while I help Dad in?”
“Not at all.” Sure her dad moved slow, but she hadn’t realized he couldn’t even make it the few steps into church. Man, cancer bit the big one.
Ryker hurried around and Dad put a lot of weight on him, Mom at his other side as they shuffled inside. Harley pushed out a breath and drove the Cherokee around to the parking lot. She shut it off and closed her eyes, murmuring, “Please, Lord, a miracle for my daddy.”
Her door swung open and the crisp morning air rushed in along with a delectable scent she couldn’t help but savor. Opening her eyes, she came face-to-stomach with Crew. Shock filled her as she realized he was wearing a suit, and this was no suit picked up from Goodwill. It had to be tailored to fit his broad shoulders and tapered waist like it did, and it was made of a navy-blue material that looked soft yet crisp at the same time. Her eyes lowered to his feet encased in brown dress shoes and then lifted to meet his amused glance. The air whooshed out of her. Crew in a suit looked a million times better than she could’ve imagined.
His facial hair was neatly trimmed and his golden hair perfectly styled. She wanted to muss up his hair and touch his beard. He looked better than any model because he was real and he was Crew—his delicious smell was the icing on the cake.
“Harley.” His voice was as warm as hot chocolate.
“What, no cowboy boots or hat?” was the only thing she could think to say to him.
He chuckled. “Left ’em home by the tractor,” he drawled out.
Harley couldn’t help but laugh. She stood, expecting him to step back so she could get out of the car, but he didn’t step back, leaving them up close and personal in the small space. His body pressed against her was so delicious she couldn’t think straight, let alone say anything. His cologne was filling her head with daydreams. Her eyes focused on his lips, which quirked up. S
he forced herself to meet his gaze. His blue eyes were full of warmth, and he released the doorframe and wrapped his hands around her lower back.
“I’m guessing you like a man in a suit,” he murmured, his voice low and husky.
“Very much,” she admitted.
He released one hand from her back and brought it up to cup her face. “You look absolutely beautiful, Harley.”
She blushed, thinking of how quickly she’d gotten ready and loving that he still thought she looked good. “You are beautiful, Crew.” The words were out before she could rein them in. Oh, no! How was she going to keep her distance if he kept touching her and saying nice things and looking so good and being so … Crew?
“Well, I’m glad to hear you finally admit that.” He lowered his head closer to hers. Harley held her breath. She should give him a spicy rebuttal to his overconfidence, but the only words on her tongue were begging him to kiss her.
“Is that my Harley girl?” A shriek from a few cars away broke Crew’s concentration on her. Harley regained her senses and pushed around him. His muscular arms could’ve easily restrained her, but he let her go.
Seconds later she was surrounded by Aunt Vicky’s plump arms. Aunt Vicky was the town gossip, but also the most loving woman in the county. Everybody called her aunt and everybody loved her, even if they were careful what secrets they told when they went to visit. She didn’t share news to hurt anyone, but talking about everyone and everything was what she did. “It is her, Lucas! Get over here and hug this beautiful girl.”
Lucas moved much slower than Aunt Vicky, but he came with a grin on his face and gave her a hug as well. He’d lost several inches off his six feet due to his back gradually stooping, and he was as thin as his wife was plump and as reticent as she was verbose. They were absolutely perfect together.
“Why didn’t your mama tell us you were home?” Aunt Vicky demanded. Then she glanced at Crew still standing next to the Cherokee. “Well, look who we have here. Crew Harrison. You get your handsome self over here and give me a squeeze.”
Seeking Mr. Debonair (The Jane Austen Pact) Page 5
