Page 22 of All For You

“Thanks, Darcy,” he said as I set the boxes down on the counter. “Hey, you guys missed the drama.”

CHAPTER 11

Lizzy

“What happened?” I asked Trystan, happy for the distraction from Darcy’s horribly rude questions about my choice to write romance novels.

Darcy leaned over the kitchen island next to me, his dark jeans and navy cowl-neck sweater emphasizing his honed physique. My whole body prickled at how good he looked, then with irritation at myself for thinking that and annoyance at his nearness. I’d given him another chance outside and opened my mind to the possibility of him being a better guy than I’d originally thought. But he’d insulted everything I was most proud of.

I shifted away from him.

“We got a phone call earlier,” Trystan said as he pulled early apples and pears from one of the boxes and set them in a bowl on the counter. “Nala and her boyfriend had a big talk last night. He did a complete one-eighty, can’t live without her, proposed, and wants a million children. They left at three a.m., apparently. A true happily ever after.”

Darcy grunted cynically.

Typical.

I put my hand on my chest. “Yes, we saw this happening. I’m so happy for them.”

I appreciated how theirs wasn’t some fresh, new young love—it was two people who’d known each other for five years, and their happy ending was hard-fought. A second-chance story was harder to write, but one I wanted to tackle in the future. If I ever got my writing mojo back.

“Some men do realize what they’ve lost before it’s too late,” I said pointedly.

Trystan sighed dreamily, resting his chin on his hand. “I know. It gives me hope.”

“What about everyone else?” I asked.

Trystan shook himself. “ThenColin Vicar came down, ready to titillate our minds and sensibilities with his witticisms.”

I snickered. I would have enjoyed this conversation much more if Darcy hadn’t been here with his dour, gloomy presence.

“But instead,” Trystan went on, “he looked around, asked where Nala was, and when we told him she was gone, he said there was no point in him staying.” He raised his eyebrows. “Apparently, you, Jane, and Emma—chopped liver. Sorry, babe.”

I laughed, and even Darcy chuckled slightly. Although, maybe because he agreed I was chopped liver.

“But what about that young woman… Shoot, I never learned her name?” I asked. “She was attached to that guy as soon as they arrived.”

“Jacqueline. His name was Paxton. Yeah, their nicknames were Jax and Pax.” He grinned at us, and I gave him a goofy smile. “It was meant to be. I caught them sneaking out first thing this morning. They said to give you all their regards. Our work there is done. Sweet kids.”

Theyweresweet, and it made me smile they’d found each other quickly…or maybe they both got involved easily. If so, how lovely to be open and trusting and hopeful. In contrast, I musthave been a decade older, and I’d become wary about getting close to a man after what I’d been through. Their story struck a match in the darkness of my imagination, though.

Then fizzled into smoke.

A love story like Jax and Pax’s didn’t have the angsty ups and downs to make a novel.

Trystan gave Darcy and me a good hard look.

“And then there were six. Anyway, grab more coffee and let me know if you’d like a cooked breakfast, but you have to preserve your appetites. You’re all paired up to make brunch. I’m texting everyone to join us now.”

This was something I was interested in. The prize for the best brunch, to be adjudicated by three of the crew, was a romantic afternoon. It might get me away from Darcy too. Although…gulp…I could be paired with him. Either way, this special event had been organized by the production company, and they’d said they’d used their influence to come up with four hours that would be different from the usual fare.

Their unique activities could yield some ideas for my next book.

Wills and Jane appeared together, and I wondered if they’d texted each other from their rooms. They grabbed coffee and slid into the banquette, whisper-talking and giggling. Emma burst in, still dressed in her pink silk pajamas, yawning and complaining about the early hour. Knightley, who looked as though he’d been up for hours, bustled in the front door with the dogs, and Oodles ran up to me, while Max wagged his tail at Darcy.

After some greeting, the dogs wandered off to the fireplace, where Knightley had joined Emma, squabbling over whether more logs were needed. Next through the door came Simon the director and Harry the cameraman. Simon murmuredsomething to Harry, who scanned the group slowly, then focused on Trystan. Simon padded out the door, seeming satisfied.

“Okay, guys.” Trystan clapped to get our attention. “The brunch groups are as follows. Starters—Emma and Knightley. Main—Darcy and Lizzy. Pudding—Wills and Jane.”