Smitten by the Brit--A Sometimes in Love Novel

by Melonie Johnson

  He returned her smile. “Did you know the secret of life was discovered here?”

  Bonnie had read the blue plaque on the wall outside describing how two Cambridge scientists who often lunched at the pub had announced their discovery of the double helix. So yes, she did know. But she was having a pleasant time listening to Ian talk, so she shook her head, encouraging him to continue.

  Their food arrived, and Bonnie’s stomach growled in anticipation. She’d ordered a savory tarte tatin, and the flaky puff pastry was perfection. She swirled her fork through the rarebit sauce, grinning.

  “Care to share the humor?” Ian asked, sandy brows arching.

  “I was just remembering how I used to think rarebit was made from actual rabbit.” Bonnie shook her head. “I was so relieved when I learned it was just cheese on toast.”

  “Very good cheese and toast,” Ian amended, chuckling.

  “Very good,” she agreed.

  By the time they’d both cleaned their plates, they’d decided to split an order of Cornish clotted cream ice cream, and Ian had moved on from discussing the pub’s history to his own. He was midway through telling her about why he chose to become a professor when Bonnie spotted a set of broad shoulders ponying up to the bar. Her heart skittered, and she almost dropped her spoon. She struggled to keep her focus on Ian, but her gaze kept straying back to the bar and the perfectly combed head of dark hair topping those broad shoulders.

  No. No way. It wasn’t possible.

  Ian coughed. “I’m afraid I’m boring you.”

  She flinched and turned her attention back to him. “Of course not.”

  “I am. I’ve been talking about myself for far too long.” He smiled and dipped his spoon into the bowl of ice cream between them. “Tell me more about you.”

  “What would you like to know?” Bonnie hedged, setting her spoon down and staring into the bowl, clotted cream curdling in her stomach as she tried to get a grip. She refused to glance over at the bar again. It was not Theo. It couldn’t be Theo. But the awareness prickling behind her knees argued otherwise. Unable to resist, she stole one more peek. On cue, as if he’d been waiting for her to look again, the dark head swiveled in her direction. Blue eyes met hers, dimples flashing.

  The blood drained from her face. She swayed in the booth, lightheaded. This was ridiculous. She was being ridiculous. Bonnie gripped the edge of the table and channeled her energy into staring at Ian, pretending she hadn’t seen Theo.

  Under her intense gaze, Ian preened. He leaned across the table, heat sparking in his brown eyes.

  Belatedly, Bonnie realized she might be sending the wrong signal. She licked her lips. Ian’s gaze dropped to her mouth. He leaned closer.

  Oops.

  Why was it, when she tried to be sexy, she made a muck of it, but now she was suddenly Miss Alluring USA? She sucked in a deep breath and immediately caught her mistake when Ian’s gaze dropped again, from her mouth to the neckline of her dress. He leaned closer still. Any farther and he’d end up on her side of the booth.

  Bonnie froze, afraid to make another move in case it encouraged Ian to make another move too. Though really, what else could she do? The situation couldn’t possibly get much worse.

  “Ah, this looks cozy,” a droll voice she knew all too well observed.

  Bonnie squeezed her eyes shut.

  She was wrong.

  The situation could, indeed, get worse.

  * * *

  Theo stood at Bonnie’s table, guts churning as he waited for her to look at him. All he’d been doing was waiting for her. Giving her space, waiting for her to be ready to move on, to decide if she wanted to pick up where they’d left off or leave things alone. That had been a mistake. Seems she was ready to move on.

  But with someone else.

  The rejection stung. When Logan called and mentioned he’d heard via Cassie that Bonnie was headed out on a date, something inside Theo snapped and he’d raced here, with no bloody idea what he’d do or say. He turned his attention to her date. “Theo Wharton.” He thrust out his hand, forcing the words through lips that felt wooden, his face numb.

  To the man’s credit, he didn’t curl up like a sniveling prawn, but held his ground and stood to shake Theo’s hand. “Ian Hanson.” His grip was firm, his eyes steady, his attitude confident.

  Theo hated the bloke. Immediately and immensely.

  He shifted his focus back to Bonnie. “I see you made it safely into the country, then.”

  “Yes,” she mumbled, still not looking at him, her complexion fluctuating from pale to pink, a blush rising in her cheeks.

  “You two know each other?” Ian asked.

  Obviously. “We spent some time together last summer,” Theo said. Let the git make what he will of that.

  “Hmm. And now, here you are.”

  “Here I am.”

  “Extraordinary,” Ian observed, lips pressed in a thin smile. “Please, join us.” Ian slid back into the booth, moving down to make room for Theo to sit next to him.

  “I don’t want to interrupt,” Theo began, “but if you insist.” He ignored the open spot and nudged his way onto Bonnie’s bench instead.

  “Theo is my best friend’s fiancé’s best friend,” Bonnie hurried to explain.

  Ian’s brow wrinkled, but after a moment, he chuckled. “I think I’ve got it worked out. When’s the wedding?”

  “This summer,” he and Bonnie replied simultaneously.

  She scooted over, putting some distance between them.

  Playing it that way, was she? He’d said he’d leave things be between them, but something impish drove him, and he leaned back, resting an arm along the top of the booth, his hand brushing her shoulder with familiarity as he smiled across the table at Ian. “We’re a close bunch.”

  The other man’s pleasant grin dropped a notch. Take that, arsehole.

  “Ian is teaching in the same summer program I am,” Bonnie offered. “But he’s also a full-time professor at the university.”

  “I lecture on Shakespeare and all that, of course,” Ian said. “But my passion is for the Old English works, Beowulf, The Seafarer, anything Anglo-Saxon, really.”

  Theo nodded, but kept his gaze trained on Bonnie. He did not like the way her eyes shone when she looked at the other man, like he was a bloody hero because he lectured about some mummified stories from a thousand years ago.

  “And what do you do?” Professor Prick asked.

  Theo cleared his throat, preparing to launch into his usual vague response, when next to him, Bonnie piped up, “Theo’s a duke.”

  What the bloody hell?

  “You don’t say?” Ian straightened, his demeanor immediately changing. Features sharp with curiosity, like he’d caught sight of an interesting creature at the zoo and was moving in for a closer look.

  “Non-royal, unimportant.” Theo cut Bonnie a sideways look, but again, she was blatantly ignoring him.

  “Do you serve in the House?” Ian asked.

  “No, my family hasn’t held a seat in decades.” He brushed a hand through his hair.

  They sat in awkward silence for a beat, until a barmaid stopped by with the bill. Bonnie reached for it, but Ian snatched it up. “Please, allow me.”

  “I couldn’t,” Bonnie began.

  “I insist.”

  I bet you do. Theo glared.

  Ian stood, meeting his glare with a weasel’s grin.

  Theo watched him head for the till, fists itching to pound a hole in the man’s smug skull.

  “What are you doing here?” Bonnie hissed.

  He could play coy, pretend he’d just happened in for a pint. But it would be a waste of time. They both knew why he was here. “Logan told me about your date.”

  “Cassie.” She ground her teeth then looked at him. “It’s not a date.”

  Oh? Well, that was good news. The roiling heat in his belly settled to a simmer.

  “And Logan had no business telling you,” she added.
r />   “He had no business telling you I was a duke,” Theo muttered, watching for Bonnie’s non-date to head back their way.

  “He didn’t, and neither did Cassie. I looked you up on the internet.”

  “You did?” He turned to face her.

  She nodded, cheeks well past rosy to bright pink. “Theo Wharton. Sixteenth Duke of Emberton.”

  He grinned.

  “Stop smiling.”

  “I’m not smiling,” he said, mouth stretching wider. Her admission revealed she’d thought about him. Taken the time to research him. He paused, smile faltering. And now she knew the truth. Was that why she hadn’t reached out? “Why are you avoiding me?”

  “I’m not avoiding you.” She scowled at him.

  He scowled back.

  “All set,” Ian announced as he returned to the booth.

  The man had terrible timing.

  Bonnie was the first to break eye contact, her gaze shifting to the professor. “Thank you so much for dinner, Ian.”

  The prat beamed at her. “Anytime. Can I escort you back to your room?”

  Hello? Was he invisible? Theo shifted in his seat, turning so his body filled the space between Bonnie and Ian. “No need, I’m happy to see her home.”

  Again, Ian ignored Theo and kept his focus trained on Bonnie. “Is that all right with you?”

  He had to hand it to him, Professor Prick had some balls in those stuffy pants of his. And he couldn’t blame the bloke, he’d have done the same thing. Theo turned, looking at Bonnie, awaiting her answer.

  She glanced between them and blew out an exasperated breath. “I can see myself home.”

  He and Ian both started to protest. She cut them off. “But since Theo made the trip out here, he can come with me.” Before he could feel too smug about his victory, she shot him a less than pleasant look. “We have a few things to talk about, anyway.”

  That didn’t sound promising.

  Ian must have come to the same conclusion, because he backed off, a sly smile slithering across his face. “Well, then.” He bowed to Theo. “My lord.” Theo narrowed his eyes at the cheeky, and blatantly incorrect, address, but Ian had already shifted his attention to Bonnie, mouth smoothing into a sappy, simpering smile. “It’s been a pleasure. I look forward to seeing you again soon.” He tipped his fingers to his forehead in a jaunty farewell and then spun on his heel.

  The parting shot hadn’t been lost on Theo. The little bugger had made sure to remind Theo he’d be spending time with Bonnie in the near future.

  “Move,” Bonnie said, poking him in the back.

  He slid out of the booth, and she followed, scurrying ahead of him toward the exit.

  Outside, he hitched a thumb over his shoulder. “My car’s around this way,” he began.

  She shook her head. “Let’s walk. We can cut through the campus.” She turned and headed toward the university grounds, and he had no choice but to hurry up and follow her. It was late June, and the sun was just beginning to set, painting the old stone and brick buildings in shades of pink and gold, the sky awash in amber. He walked beside Bonnie, thinking of the long days of summer stretching ahead, and hoping he could spend many of them with her. But did she want to spend time with him? She’d been in England for several days, and yet she hadn’t called, hadn’t reached out.

  Even now, after she’d said she wanted to talk, she continued to give him the silent treatment, walking next to him, spine stiff, steps eating up the pathway in brisk little chops. Unable to stand it any longer, he finally asked, “What did you want to talk about?”

  Her pace faltered for a moment, but then she regained her stride. “Us.”

  “What about us?” he asked, chest constricting.

  When she didn’t reply, he stopped walking. Forcing air into his lungs, he asked the question that had been burning inside of him. “Is this about me being a duke?”

  She spun around to face him. “What?”

  “You heard me.” He stared down at her. “Do you have a problem with the fact that I’m a duke?”

  “I have a problem with the fact you didn’t tell me you were a duke.” She shook her head. “But no, I don’t care you’re a duke. Why should I?”

  He shrugged, embarrassed he’d been the one to make an issue out of it in the first place, but it was a knee-jerk reaction, born from experience. “People tend to get dodgy when they find out.”

  “I can see that,” she said, her tone thoughtful. “So, what am I supposed to call you, anyway?” A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “My lord?”

  “Shut it.”

  “That’s not very polite, my lord,” she teased and began walking again. “What’s it like? Being a duke?”

  “First of all, as a duke, it’s ‘Your Grace,’ and second, it sucks.”

  She laughed. A bright tinkling sound chiming all through him. He’d missed that laugh. Missed talking to her. “Delighted my misery amuses you. My family’s estate is in dire straits,” Theo admitted, surprising himself with his honesty, “and it’s my job to keep the bloody ship from sinking.”

  “Ah, so that’s what you meant last summer when you said you worked in finance.”

  He nodded. “You remembered.”

  “You’re not the only one who remembers everything we’ve ever talked about,” she said, her voice growing soft. Inside his chest, his heart went soft too. He took a step closer, but she held up her hand, placing her palm against him, right over the bloody aching spot. She sighed. “But it’s too soon, I think. For me.” She stared down at her hand. Her left hand. The hand that had sported an engagement ring not too long ago. “Maybe it would be better if we didn’t see each other. I mean, aside from the wedding stuff.”

  “Oh.” That was not what he’d been hoping she’d say. And not what he’d expected to hear either. “What if we’re just friends?” He covered her hand with his, every nerve in his body zinging to life at the contact. He didn’t want to be just friends.

  As if hearing his thoughts, she glanced up at him, eyes doubtful. “Do you think that’s possible?”

  “I don’t know,” he answered honestly, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. She shivered, her gaze never leaving his face. The pale blue of her eyes shifted color, deepening to a sizzling blue that enflamed him, made him bolder. “Friends with benefits, perhaps?” he suggested.

  “Tempting.” She laughed, slipping her hand out from beneath his. “But I’m not sure I’m built that way.”

  “Only one way to find out.” He stepped closer, missing her touch already. “I’d like to explore the possibility, but I’m not going to push you, Bonnie. If you’re not comfortable with exploring … the physical side of our friendship, then that’s that.”

  “If I decided I was comfortable, with some, um, exploring,” Bonnie hesitated, licking her lips, “you’re saying we would still be just friends?”

  “Of course,” Theo assured her. After all, they couldn’t be more. He couldn’t.

  “That easy, huh?”

  “Yes.” Christ no. It would be hard. Very hard. But he was willing to try.

  A chill breeze danced across the treetops lining the walkway. Bonnie started to tug on the sweater she carried.

  He reached out to help her, but she pulled away. “I got it.”

  He dropped his hands. “Bloody hell, woman. What is your deal?”

  “My deal?” She bristled.

  “Yes. What do you have against accepting help?” All evening, he’d been fighting for control, and the grip on his temper was slipping. “There’s nothing wrong with allowing me to hold the door for you, or letting me help you with your sweater, or bloody taking your bloody arm when we walk down the bloody street!”

  “What the hell is your deal?” she shot back. “Showing up out of the blue at that pub tonight and acting all macho—”

  “I wasn’t acting macho.” He crossed his arms over his chest, returning her glare.

  She snorted and mirrored his stance.
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br />   Realizing how absurdly macho he looked, Theo relaxed his arms.

  “I’m sorry,” he began.

  “No,” Bonnie said. “You’re right.” She drifted off the gravel path and sat on a stone bench, pulling her sweater tighter around herself. “You said you have three sisters, right?”

  He nodded, joining her on the bench.

  “Well, I don’t have any siblings, but I do have cousins. A lot of them. All boys. And every single one of them treats me like I’m a helpless kitten, a pet that needs protection.” She swung her feet, sending a spray of pebbles skittering. “If you’ve got a chip on your shoulder about being a duke, I’ve got one about being—”

  “A girl?”

  She punched him in the arm. “Coddled.”

  “I’m not coddling you.”

  “It feels like coddling to me, okay?”

  “Okay.” He’d learned enough from his sisters not to argue. She had a right to her feelings, whether he agreed with them or not. They sat in silence for a few minutes, the gardens mostly quiet save for the muted shuffle of footsteps on the path, the voices of passersby mingling with the summer breeze.

  “I’m sorry for crashing your date,” he finally said, gut twisting.

  “It wasn’t a date,” she quickly corrected.

  “Well,” Theo said, again struggling to contain his relief at that news, “I’m still sorry.”

  “I’ll accept your apology,” she began, scooting a little closer to him on the bench, “if you tell me why.”

  He stared at the space that remained between them, focusing on the pale cold stone. He wanted to scoot closer too, to close the distance, but he held back. “Why, what?”

  “Why did you come here tonight?”

  Because I missed you. Because the thought of you being with another man made me wild with jealousy. He reached for her hand, and she didn’t pull away. “Because I couldn’t wait anymore. To see you.” He looked up, quickly adding, “To see my friend.”

  “Ah, Mr. Duke is impatient.” She grinned, her voice teasing, but her eyes were solemn. She swallowed. “I owe you an apology as well, Theo. I should have called. I’m sorry.”

  The sound of his name on Bonnie’s tongue burrowed a path through his heart, hollowing out a space and filling it with her voice. “I’ll accept your apology,” he said, indulging in a bit of tit for tat, “if you promise me one thing.”