“What’s this night class about?” Henry asked as he held the door for her to go into their marketing class.
They were a few minutes early, so they took their seats and she turned to him. “I’m taking online courses through a school in America to get my drafting degree.” Her voice ramped up with her excitement. She hadn’t told Crew or her family yet, but she loved drafting and was excited to have another skill in her portfolio.
“Drafting?” His smooth brow wrinkled. Henry was a fabulous guy with an accent she could listen to all day, but he just didn’t draw her in like a certain cowboy she’d left behind. How she ached to call Crew … but she’d never let herself. What she needed to say needed to be said in person.
“Designing houses,” she explained.
“Blimey. A master’s program isn’t intense enough for you; you have to add another degree on to it?”
“Lucky for me I’m near brilliant.” She winked at him.
He laughed. “That is true, and perfectly beautiful.”
Several other students and the instructor entered, saving her from having to respond to the compliment. Harley focused on the class at hand, but her mind was never far from Wyoming and wondering what Crew was doing at any given moment. They had a special spark, she could readily admit that, but who knew whether that spark would light a fire or be snuffed out completely.
Chapter Seventeen
Crew’s mind wandered as he lounged next to the fireplace in his living room, reading. The crackling of the wood entertained him more than the novel in his hand. He didn’t much like Emma as a heroine, but he’d taken to reading Jane Austen whenever he missed Harley. He’d read way too much Jane Austen the past four months and he still thought she needed a heavy-handed editor.
Construction naturally slowed down in the wintertime, and by the day before Christmas Eve, Crew was down to three houses under construction. It didn’t matter much financially, as he had plenty saved and numerous projects lined up for the springtime, but it killed him not to be busy. He built lots of concrete sinks and vanities and shipped them around the nation, he visited his friends Ryker and Sadie several times a week, and he bought so many books he had to build another bookshelf in his bedroom to house them all.
He hated to admit he was depressed, but what did he expect with little hope of her ever coming back for good? He lived for their emailed conversations and often wondered why he didn’t just call her and demand to know if she still cared for him, if there was any hope for them.
He knew Ryker had picked her up from the airport earlier this afternoon for Christmas break. He hoped he’d see her, but sometimes he wondered what would that accomplish—just break his heart all over again? Four months of agony and loneliness that no one but a certain brunette beauty could cure, and she obviously had no desire to be his cure. Her emails were always fun, interesting, and intriguing, but she never got close to anything personal and neither did he.
His front door opened and closed. Probably one of his sisters or his mom demanding he come over for Christmas Eve dinner tomorrow. He needed to. It would help to not dwell on the Redlands being together without him. It’d been a hard few months for Ryker and Sadie missing Clint and Harley, but thankfully Harley was there for them now. At least for a couple of weeks.
He put Emma down on the coffee table and stood to greet whoever had walked in. The oxygen whooshed out of him when Harley strode into his great room and pushed the hood of her pink coat away from her face, her dark curls springing everywhere and a huge grin lighting her beautiful face.
“Harley?” he whispered faintly.
“In the flesh.” She did a little bow.
She was really here? Did it mean anything that she’d sought him out? “H-hi. You look good,” he managed to say. She looked awe-inspiring, but his tongue was thick.
Her eyes swept over him. “You look better,” she said.
Her words gave him the encouragement to take a few steps closer. “I …” He couldn’t just lay it all out there—how much he missed her and loved her and never wanted to be apart from her again. If she’d let him, he’d do anything necessary to be by her side. “How’s England?”
“I love it.” She nodded, and his heart sank. She loved it, without him. “But,” she continued, drawling out the word, “it’s missing a certain spark that would help me to truly savor it.”
Crew’s eyes widened, and the way she said “savor” made his neck tingle. “What could England possibly be missing?”
Her eyes sparkled at him. “Where’s your Christmas tree?”
Crew all but felt his neck break from the whiplash. He wanted to know what England was missing. “Too lazy to get one. I’ll spend tomorrow night and Christmas morning at my parents’ anyway.” The truth was he’d been too morose to get a tree. Who wanted to celebrate without Harley?
“Hmm.” She took a couple of steps toward him, but she was looking around at the room. “So my dream house, with my dream guy …” She looked pointedly at him. “But no Christmas decorations to complete the picture?”
Dream guy? Crew swallowed hard and braced himself. It was all he could do to not run and sweep her off her feet. She wouldn’t tease him like this, would she? Harley was a tease, but she wasn’t heartless. He pushed out a shaky laugh. “I could buy some Christmas decorations if it would make you happy.”
“Would you?” She sauntered toward him until she was within touching distance. Crew could smell her delectable vanilla scent, and he could hardly resist her. “You’d do a lot to make me happy, wouldn’t you, Crew?”
He nodded, too stunned to even form words.
She edged in and gently put a hand on his chest. “Would you wait for me?”
He drew in a quick breath and rushed out the words, “Until my teeth fell out, Harley.”
She gave a cute little giggle at that.
Crew couldn’t take it any longer. He put his hands around her lower back and tugged her flush against him. “What’s England missing, Harley?”
She grinned impishly at him, stood on tiptoes, and kissed him. “You.”
Crew held her close to him and returned the kiss wholeheartedly. His body warmed with desire, but the love he felt for her was stronger than anything. She tasted like mint and happiness. She felt like heaven in his arms. Harley was here and he was pretty sure she was saying she loved him.
“So I guess you kind of like me?” he whispered against her lips.
“Not really. You tease me and you make me crazy.” She grinned. “But I do love you.”
Crew got choked up and couldn’t say it back. Harley was kissing him again, so she didn’t seem to care. He kissed her with all the passion he’d been storing up these long, miserable months, lifting her off her feet and carrying her to the sofa.
Harley was floating. Crew lifted her off her feet but kept kissing her like he’d missed her as much as she’d missed him. She’d been nervous to just walk in his house, but it felt like her dad had been there, pushing her along. Now she was so happy that she couldn’t imagine why she hadn’t done this years ago.
Crew sank down onto the couch and continued to work his magic on her mouth. His hands trailed along her neck and into her hair. The short hair on his face tickled her cheek. She cuddled closer to his strong chest as he tilted her head slightly and deepened the kiss.
Harley dug her fingers into the short curls at the nape of his neck and tried to pull him closer. She couldn’t get enough of him or his kisses. He released her lips and trailed kisses along her chin and down her neck, then came back up to meet her lips again. Harley drank in the feel of his lips and his hands.
Who knew how much time passed when he pulled back and studied her? He looked much too serious as he said, “I wanted to tell you at the airport, but then I missed you and it didn’t seem right to text or call, and I know you thought fate didn’t want us together, but to heck with fate, and then I didn’t want to say it all over the phone, and I didn’t want to come over there and smother y
ou and not let you have your dreams, and I wanted you to have time to get your degree, and …”
It wasn’t like Crew to not be able to get his point across. She could hardly keep up with all of his rambling thoughts. “What did you want to tell me at the airport?”
“I would sell my business and house and move to England for you, Harley. I’d go anywhere for you.”
Harley was stunned. “You’d leave your home? For me?”
He nodded. “I love you, Harley. That’s all that matters. Wyoming’s just a place without you.”
Her heart threatened to burst as he said exactly what she’d come to realize. She kissed him quickly and whispered, “I appreciate that, Crew, but I want to be close to my family as well.”
His eyes widened and his brow wrinkled and he looked irresistibly cute. “You’ve always been so set on England. When did you change your mind?”
“I realized that England, Connecticut, Wyoming, they’re exactly what you just said: they’re all simply locations. I’ve loved every spot I’ve lived in, but without you, without my family, they couldn’t be my home. I was caught up in Jane Austen fantasies and my own childish dreams, but without you, they’re nothing. Jane Austen and traveling the world are black and white to me now. You’re Technicolor and 3D.”
Crew chuckled. He looked so good to her, his blue eyes focused completely on her, his handsome face so welcoming and perfect. She ran her fingers along his beard. Oh, how she’d missed him.
“I’d go anywhere in the world for you, Harley.”
“Good. Because I plan on going on jolly good holidays quite regularly.”
He grinned at her attempt at an English accent. “You’re all that truly matters to me,” he whispered. “You’re my dream, Harley.”
“I know,” she teased, though his words meant the world to her. “And lucky for you, I’m going to make all your dreams come true.” She winked and kissed him again, savoring each touch and his musky cologne. With effort, she pulled back and framed his face with her hands. “Can you wait five more months for me?”
Crew pursed his lips. “I’ll think about it.”
She giggled and said bravely, “I’m thinking a June wedding sounds about right.”
“Oh?” His eyes widened, and her heart threatened to pound out of her chest. “You proposing to me now?”
She grinned. “I’ll give you a chance to do it right with a huge shiny diamond, but I just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page.”
“I’ll turn to any page you want me to be on.”
“Ah, you big sweetie.” He was sweet. He was perfect. “We can get married right here in my dream yard, and then I plan on designing and decorating homes with you and helping you with your marketing and business expansion.”
Crew arched his eyebrows. “Sounds like a dream.”
“It will be.” She kissed him again, and she knew that no childhood pact created by twelve-year-olds could compare to the reality of being with the right man for her. It took her too long to get here, but because of the long, twisted path to love, she appreciated him all the more. Crew was her dream man—debonair, solid, and good.
His kiss became more intense, and she knew love had never tasted so good. It was better than her mama’s sea salt and caramel pecan pie topped with ice cream—savory, sweet, creamy, and something she’d never, ever want to be without.
About the Author
CAMI CHECKETTS IS A WIFE to a daredevil husband, a mother to four future WWF champions, an exercise scientist trying to make her corner of the world healthier, and a writer hoping for more time to write.
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If you enjoyed Seeking Mr. Debonair, please read on for a short excerpt of The Fearless Groom: Texas Titan Romance.
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The Fearless Groom by Cami Checketts
Isabella Knight pasted on her smile and waved to the cluster of photographers as she walked up the sidewalk and through the arched doorway into the Rosecrest Mansion. Unfortunately, the beautiful Spanish architecture with the warm yellow stucco exterior, clay roof tiles, and arched windows and doors was lost on her. She was too busy checking the location of her security detail for the night. Two nondescript men in tuxes followed her at a discreet distance. She scowled then immediately smoothed her face out when another camera flashed. This was exactly why she tried to avoid social media. Somebody at the hospital would usually show her when a particularly unflattering photo hit the Internet.
Thankfully, her regular life as a nurse practitioner didn’t include over-muscled goons following her around, but they were forced on her at any large social gatherings she attended. She often told her half-sister they weren’t the ones in danger. It was their father who was the money-grubbing tycoon. The threat was all on him. Still, she was smart enough to realize that kidnapping her or Hailey would be profitable for someone. Her father had enough parental inclinations to pay a ransom for Hailey, though she wasn’t a hundred percent certain about herself.
Clearing the doorway, she glanced back one more time to see if her security guys were following and waved to the swarm of photographers again. She looked the part of the daughter of a wealthy oil tycoon and the owner of the Texas Titans. She wore a form-fitting teal blue knee-length dress and gorgeous Manolo Blahnik silver heels. Her father’s clothing designer had not been happy when she insisted on capped sleeves and no exposed chest, but the dress was tight enough that every bump and curve was on display for the world to ogle and dissect.
Turning forward, her eyes widened as she realized a broad back encased in a navy-blue suit was right in her path. She lifted her hands to keep from planting her face in between his shoulder blades and grabbed onto two very defined arms. Whoa. Whoever this guy was, he was more built than her bodyguards.
“Excuse me,” she said, letting go and stepping back, but the point of her two-inch heel caught between one of the tiles of the floor, and she was going down. Arms flailing, she prayed with everything in her she was far enough inside the mansion that the paparazzi, who had been banned to the outside, were not capturing what was sure to be the worst moment she’d had in a decade.
The man pivoted, saw her wind-milling limbs, and caught her in one fluid motion. Izzy was suspended in mid-air, a foot away from the floor, staring up into deep brown eyes. They seemed to look straight into her, pulling away all the crap the world had tried to pump in there and seeing the real her—her heartache for the pain she saw children going through, her hopes of being enough to help them, and her hidden desire to not do it alone.
She pushed out a long breath. The man smiled and his five-o’clock shadow wasn’t grown out enough to hide a perfect set of dimples. Her heart slammed against her chest. Xavier Newton. Oh, crap, this was not the first impression she wanted to make.
“You all right, ma’am?” he asked, gently lifting her onto her feet, but keeping one hand on the small of her lower back. His palm was nice and big, perfect for snatching footballs out of the air and making her go hot and cold all over.
“Thanks to you.” She found herself returning the smile with a genuine one of her own, nothing close to the plastic version she’d been giving the photographers and reporters out front.
“Glad to be of service.”
“With muscles that big, you probably catch a lot of things. You’re just a big old hero, aren’t you?” Izzy was horrified those words had just come out of her mouth. She may have been a natural smart aleck, but she tried to not flirt with good-looking men unless she knew them well enough to be assured they weren’t philanderers like her father. Xavier Newton sadly only fit in the good-looking category.
His smile deepened, and then he chuckled. “I try, ma’am. I surely do.” He turned her down the hallway and toward the main area where the gala and auction were being
held. “Can I escort you in?”
Izzy bit at her lip. Her father would be thrilled at this turn of events as this was the man he had specifically instructed her to buy like Xavier Newton was some kind of horse or long-horned steer. It made her sick the way her father had said it, but he’d also given her unlimited access to his charity fund if she promised to win the bid on Xavier. All that money was going to her beloved children’s hospital, so it was one of the few times he knew he had her over a barrel.
Xavier was a member of the Triple Threat, the three top football players in the nation and the heroes of their Texas Titans football team. Tonight, he was up on the auction block as one of the eligible bachelors. The prize was a date with the man himself. Izzy sucked in a breath as she looked at him—six foot four and full of muscle with smooth, brown skin and sculpted facial features. He’d made The Rising Star’s “Most Handsome Men” list five years running. It wasn’t just that he was easy on the eyes. It was also those irresistible dimples and the story of him rising from poverty. Not to mention, he treated his mama like gold. What woman didn’t love that? He flew her to every home game, remodeled her home because she refused to move from her downtown Denver neighborhood, and bragged about her anytime anyone asked. He seemed perfect. Well, except for the fact that he dated and dumped women faster than Izzy could complete a shift at work.
Izzy realized he was staring at her with an arched eyebrow, and she still hadn’t answered his question about escorting her in. “Um, sure, that would be … delectable.”
“Delectable?” They walked slowly down the hall, and Izzy knew people were staring at the two of them together. Did Xavier know she was the owner’s daughter?
“I mean, nice.” Had she truly just said delectable to Xavier Newton? She shouldn’t be flirting with this man, but couldn’t seem to help herself. There was something different about Xavier … something she wouldn’t mind exploring.
Seeking Mr. Debonair (The Jane Austen Pact) Page 13
