Seeking Mr. Debonair (The Jane Austen Pact) Page 7
“Good for you,” she said, meaning it. She tamped down that old longing to be the one designing and decorating homes. She used to draw home plans in notebooks before she found a computer program that was even more fun, but that was before she’d gotten into Yale and focused on the world of business. Now she only played around with design when she had a spare minute and needed a break from textbooks. Weird that her old dreams would’ve fit so perfectly with what Crew was doing. She had new dreams now, and things were working out the way they should.
“It is good for him,” her dad said. “The boy’s only twenty-four and already people are clamoring to have him build their house. And I’m not talking some little starter home. These homes are for the richies, I tell ya.”
Harley watched Crew look down as if embarrassed by the praise. She knew that couldn’t be right, because he’d always been the cocksure super athlete with girls begging to date him. His little sister used to call him the Golden Boy. It would figure that his business would be successful.
“Thanks, Clint.”
“And here this boy takes the time out to feed cows and run to the auction for me. He’s a good one, Harley.” Her dad winked.
Harley’s face filled with heat. Crew had been sacrificing time he could’ve been working on his own businesses to help her family out because of her dad’s sickness. She could agree that he was a “good one,” but didn’t know how to say that without encouraging the entire group that she was ready to pick out rings and flowers. She understood that in their eyes she and Crew were the perfect fit, but it wasn’t meant to be, no matter how selfless, fun, good-looking, and successful Crew was. Dang, she needed to stop listing all his positive qualities.
Nobody said anything, and the silence was more than awkward.
“So I’ll plan on taking the day off Tuesday and getting that horseback ride in for you,” Crew eventually said.
“I’ll make some room in my schedule for you,” Harley teased.
Everyone laughed, and thankfully the conversation turned to baseball, letting her enjoy the delicious food and easy conversation. She took the opportunity to study Crew’s profile when he was talking to her family members. Her dad was right: he was a good one. It was an odd shift to realize that his designer suit and nice truck weren’t just a boy living beyond his means but the result of a hard worker becoming successful. Good for Crew.
Crew reclined into the leather couch, trying to focus on the baseball game on the flat-screen television, but he was too busy checking Harley’s location in the other room. He’d offered to help clean up but had been shut down by Harley and her mother, both of them urging him to go sit with Clint and enjoy the game. He knew they just wanted Clint to enjoy the game and neither of them were huge baseball fans, so they couldn’t talk trash with him about batting average or RBIs or which player might have a chance at a home run with which pitcher.
He was grateful to Clint for securing him an uninterrupted day with Harley on Tuesday, and he couldn’t feel guilty about taking her away from her family when her dad was the one who suggested it. He’d liked the surprise in her eyes when she found out about his businesses, but was it enough? He still wasn’t some Harvard or Cambridge grad. He should’ve told her about his drafting degree and how he read nonfiction books nonstop, but how did he bring either up without sounding like he was trying to paint himself better in her eyes?
He and Ryker were sitting on one couch, and Clint lay back in his overstuffed recliner. The women finished the kitchen cleanup and Harley headed for the bathroom while her mom came into the living room. Sadie sat on the other couch, on the cushion closest to the recliner.
“Ryker,” Clint whispered loudly. “Move by your mama.”
“Huh?” Ryker looked up just as Harley opened the downstairs bathroom door.
“Move,” Clint commanded.
“Oh!” Ryker jumped up and hurled himself at the other couch.
Crew tried to hide his grin but was probably unsuccessful as Harley walked into the room. She’d have no choice but to sit by him. She took in the seating arrangements with an arched brow; then she ran, jumped over the edge of the other sofa, and landed on Ryker.
“Hey!” he screamed, but he started laughing.
“You two,” Sadie admonished, smiling and shaking her head.
Clint simply grinned.
Ryker let out a roar and stood, hauling Harley with him. Now she was the one crying out in surprise. He strode across the living room carpet and dumped Harley into Crew’s lap. Crew didn’t cry out in surprise at all. He took the perfect package that had been dumped in his lap and wrapped his arms around her.
“Hey,” he said quietly, grinning down at her.
“Hey,” she whispered back.
She smelled so good, that distinctive vanilla flavor that he loved. Her deep brown eyes seemed to sparkle up at him. Crew would’ve kissed her then and there, but he had enough presence of mind to be aware of their audience.
He made the mistake of glancing over at her family, who were all watching them with interest. “It’s okay,” Ryker said. “Pretend we’re not here.”
Harley pushed out of his arms, standing. “Who wants pie? Mama taught me how to make her strawberry pie with our homegrown strawberries.” It was like she was giving a pie sales pitch to get away from him.
“I’ll take some,” Ryker said.
“Sure,” Clint said.
“Love some,” Sadie said.
Crew stood next to Harley. “I’ll help you serve it.”
She stared at him for a second before whirling and striding past the dining area and into the kitchen. He followed her, wanting so very much to talk her into giving him a chance, but this probably wasn’t the right time. Her family was just through the open space. They obviously approved, but Crew wanted Harley to love him for him, not to appease her family.
As he retrieved dessert plates and forks, she sliced the pie. He pulled out ice cream, at a loss for what to say.
“I’m sorry they keep pushing us together,” Harley muttered in a low voice, pointing the knife at her family.
“I don’t really mind it so much.” He grinned, hoping it was brilliant enough to serve as a beacon.
She placed a slice of pie on a plate, and he pulled out the ice cream scoop and started dolloping out a serving on each plate. “Just because you’re comfortable doesn’t make you the right choice,” Harley said.
Crew dropped the ice cream scoop into the container and stepped closer to her. His gut churned with apprehension. “What does that mean?”
“You know where we keep the ice cream scooper,” Harley pointed out. “You basically grew up in this house, Crew. You’re like an older brother to me, but you’re comfortable to them, so of course they want me to fall for you.”
Crew’s forehead scrunched and he could feel a headache coming on. She wasn’t the type of girl to try and spite her family, even though they were different from her. She was an academic and an adventure lover, and her brother and dad were very much the work-by-the-sweat-of-your-brow and stay-close-to-home kind of people. Harley definitely knew how to work hard, but she was the perfect mix of brains and hard work to him. Yet why did she have to talk herself out of liking him on every occasion? Did she think he wasn’t good enough for her? Did she really only think of him as a brother? Or was it all tied up in her twisted perceptions of needing an Englishman? Curse Jane Austen.
“Is this comfortable to you?” There was only one way to find out if she was attracted to him. He wrapped his arm around her back and scooted in closer to her until their bodies were pressed together.
Harley’s breath shortened and she stared up at him with her mouth slightly open. “Wh-what did you ask?” she said.
Crew grinned. He affected her, and he knew it. “You said I was comfortable. Do you feel comfortable right now?” His other hand trailed through her dark curls; they were smooth and felt like silk. He cupped her neck with his palm.
“No, not really,” she
squeaked out.
He bent down closer. Her family might be watching, but he couldn’t afford to waste any opportunity to somehow convince her of his love and lifelong devotion to her.
She grabbed a plate of pie and shoved it a little too hard into his hands. The pie and ice cream squished into his abdomen, covering his shirt and slopping down onto the floor.
“Whoa.” Crew stepped back.
“Oops.” Harley grinned at him unrepentantly, setting the ruined piece of pie and plate on the counter. “That should cool you off a little bit.”
Crew swiped his finger through the ice cream and red glaze on his shirt and trailed it down her cheek. “Almost as sweet as you, but you do the opposite of cooling me off.” He winked.
Harley laughed. “My sassiness should.”
“You wish. That sassiness just draws me in.” He restrained himself from stepping closer to her again. That didn’t seem to be doing him any favors, but he sure did love being close to her.
“Harley!” her mother reprimanded. “What on earth are you two doing?”
Harley grinned. “We got it, Mama. Don’t worry.”
Crew picked up two plates of pie and extended them to her. Harley looked warily at him. “You go serve the pie,” he said. “I’ll clean this up.”
“I should clean up. I made the mess.”
“I’m used to cleaning up after you.”
She took the pie and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I have no clue what that’s supposed to mean. I don’t make messes.”
She stomped regally off and Crew couldn’t help but chuckle. Grabbing a roll of paper towels, he wiped at his shirt for a while, then swiped at the mess on the floor. Harley made him irrationally happy, at least when she wasn’t telling him why a cowboy wasn’t good enough for her. He’d happily spend his life cleaning up after her.
Chapter Eight
Tuesday morning saw Harley up before five a.m. She went on a quick run, then did yoga in the back yard. Her thoughts whirled, anticipating the day before her. Crew had texted that he’d pick her up at seven. She hurried and showered, making herself a protein shake in the kitchen and downing it in a few swallows before rushing upstairs to brush her teeth and put on light makeup. She wanted to look good, but not like she’d tried too hard. Yes, that was essential. She shouldn’t be so excited to be with Crew and she shouldn’t be trying too hard. She was just excited for the horseback ride. That was why her stomach was fluttering and her palms were damp.
At five minutes to seven she was perched in her mom’s formal room, peering out the window.
“Somebody’s excited about their date.”
She whipped around to face her dad. She hadn’t realized he’d made it down the stairs for the day. “It’s not a date, Daddy. You roped Crew into taking me horseback riding.”
He grinned and sank into one of the wing-backed chairs. “Sheesh, these things are uncomfortable.” He focused in on her. “But you’re excited about it.”
She shrugged. “You know I like to horseback ride.”
“Yeah,” he drawled out. “That’s why your eyes are all lit up. You like my boy. It’s okay to admit it, darlin’.”
Harley leaned back on the couch. “You can stop playing matchmaker, Daddy. I’m headed to England and we both know Crew wouldn’t leave Wyoming if the entire state burned to the ground.”
“But maybe you won’t stay in England till you get old and wrinkly. You got a long life ahead of you, sweet pea.” He arched an eyebrow. “And don’t be so quick to assume my boy doesn’t have aspirations to travel. Maybe you should ask him, give him a chance.”
Harley pushed out a breath and folded her arms. Why did they all believe she was coming back? Even though her dad supported her going and working for a huge company there, he assumed she’d get bored or lonely and come home eventually. She wasn’t planning on it, especially if she found her Mr. Darcy like she’d always dreamed of doing. Traveling wasn’t what she was talking about. She wanted to live in England and experience everything Jane Austen’s characters had—well, as much as she could in this century. Then she would move on to different countries. “I think it’s great he’s been successful with his construction business, and I know he’s a dang hard worker, smart, and charismatic. There’s nothing wrong with Crew. All I’m saying is we don’t fit.”
“Sometimes you need to look outside your square hole and open your eyes to what’s right in front of you, girl.”
There was a soft rap on the door. Crew had pulled up without her noticing.
Harley stood and crossed the room, bending down to kiss her dad’s forehead. “And sometimes the little bird needs to spread her wings and fly.”
Her dad smiled wryly up at her. “Don’t throw my sayings back at me, darlin’. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m dying and you’re supposed to be nice to me.” Harley gasped, but he laughed and inclined his head toward the door. “Go have a fun day, darlin’. I’ll stop teasing you, but I won’t stop praying and hoping for the best thing for you. Not just because it’s what I want, but because it’s what you need.”
Harley hurried to open the door, not able or willing to respond to her dad’s comments. Crew leaned against the doorframe. He was in a simple gray T-shirt and jeans with his cowboy hat firmly in place, shadowing his blue eyes and that perfectly scruffy jawline. Even in cowboy gear, he had a great sense of style. Yet cowboys did nothing for her. She had to keep remembering that. No cowboys, no Crew, no wanting to kiss Crew’s stubbled jawline.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he said. “You ready to go?”
“Yes, sir.” She picked up the backpack she’d put snacks and water bottles in.
“See you, son,” her dad called from the formal room.
Crew’s eyebrows arched up. He stepped past Harley, and his unique musky scent brushed against her as certain as his bicep. “Morning, Clint. You doing well today?”
“As good as an old codger can be. Take care of my girl, will you?”
Harley whipped around at her dad’s tone. This was no casual “watch out for my daughter on the horseback ride” kind of request. This was a serious conjecture of watching out for her. She didn’t need some man to watch out for her, especially not a cowboy who was never leaving Wyoming. She’d taken care of herself just fine the past four years, and she’d continue to do so.
“I will, sir.” Crew’s tone was as serious as her dad’s. He turned to look at her, his blue eyes somber and full of promises he couldn’t fulfill.
She turned and walked out onto the porch. All she wanted was a simple horseback ride. Why did everything have to have an agenda with her and Crew?
Crew had saddled two of his horses and led Ruby the two miles to the Redlands’ as he rode Jade. Clint had offered his horses, but Crew knew and trusted his own.
He and Harley could go right from the Redlands’ ranch up some of the prettiest mountain trails Crew had ever seen. He followed Harley into the yard and was going to offer her a hand up, but she jammed her cowboy boot in the stirrup and swung up onto the horse. She looked beautiful astride his deep brown horse. Her jeans and T-shirt fit just perfect and her long brown curls flowed down her back. She was prettier than any rodeo queen he’d ever seen. Which gave him an idea to tease her. “Do you remember when you were the rodeo queen?”
She glared down at him. “Stop. I was never the queen. I was first attendant. Marla Handry was the queen.”
“Really?” He nodded. “Oh, yeah, I remember now. You should’ve been queen, but you insulted the judges during the interviews. Remember? You got all exasperated when none of them knew your references to classic literature and you finally asked if any of them even knew who Jane Austen or Charlotte Brontë were.”
“I can’t recall what you’re spouting about.” Harley glared down at him, then kicked the horse’s flanks. “Hiyah, let’s go, Ruby!” They took off out of the yard and into the field toward the mountains. “Keep up if you can!” Harley yelled back at him.
Crew
chuckled and ran to Jade, launching himself onto her back, glad his horses had the trot over here to warm up. He dug his heels in. “Let’s go, girl. You’ve never let Ruby beat you yet.”
They flew across the field, and though Harley and Ruby had a decent head start, there was a reason he’d always ridden Jade. She gained quickly and within a few minutes they were neck to neck. Harley bent down low to Ruby’s neck, encouraging and prompting her. She turned to look at Crew and shot him a challenging glare.
Crew decided it was time to end this race. He urged Jade on, and soon they had outpaced Ruby and Harley. He called back, “I’m still the king!”
“The King Yak,” Harley hollered at his back.
They approached the mountain trail and the field changed from thick hay to wildflowers and weeds. The horses slowed down, both panting from their race. “Good girl,” Crew said, patting Jade’s side. “Good job.” He slowed her to a walk to give her a chance to rest and cool down.
Harley reached his side and the horses ambled toward the creek, stopping to drink from the cool water. Harley looked around at the creek, the yellow sunflowers, and the towering mountain beyond them. “You forget how pretty it is,” she said.
“Not if you don’t leave,” Crew returned, then winced when her jaw and lips tightened. He took off his cowboy hat and pushed his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Harley. Everyone gives you crap for leaving, and I don’t want to be like that. You’re so smart and driven. I think that’s amazing and I want you to have your dreams.” And he did—he just wished he was part of those dreams.
“Thanks, Crew.” She focused on the towering mountain range. “I love it here, love my family, love the beauty of it all, but Crew …” Her eyes swung back to his. “Don’t you ever want to know what’s out beyond this mountain range?”