Page 84 of All For You

He moved in close, draping an arm along the back of my chair, and rubbed a strand of my hair between his fingers. “There’s no one here I want to dance with,” he whispered, dragging his nose up my jaw.

I blew a breath into his ear and watched the goose bumps spread on his skin. “Something like that.”

He groaned. “My boorishness is going to be preserved for all time, isn’t it?”

“Maybe think of it as inspiration for others to change?”

“Ah, yes. Rebranding, much better.” He grinned at me and traced a finger below the short sleeve of my peasant blouse. He pulled back my hair and looked like he wanted to bury his face in my neck.

Even though my body was waiting for his move with a held breath, my writer brain turned over the plot, and I glanced over at my laptop. I was hoping this was the kiss I’d been waiting for, but I was also itching to commit thoughts to typed words.

Reluctantly, he got to his feet. “I better get back to my terribly important, terribly busy business…whatever it was.” He gave me a wink that made my mouth go dry.

“Thanks, Darcy. You’ve been an incredible help.”

His lips quirked. “How thankful are you, exactly? Can you ask your mother to fast-track my application to your Facebook group?”

I chuckled and grabbed my phone. “Texting her now.” I tapped in and gave him a saucy raised eyebrow. “If you desire to become one of Lizzy’s Licentious Ladies, so ye shall.”

“Idesire.So much,” he said slowly, longingly, backing out of the room.

As much as I hated to see Darcy go, I couldn’t wait to make a start on this new story idea. For the next four hours, I barely glanced up. The first chapter flew out of me. The two characters fully formed in my head, the second chapter wroteitself. And when I finished the third chapter, I grinned. These pages were better than anything I’d ever written. Spending time at the estate, with Darcy, had provided all the inspiration and affirmation I’d needed. Bliss.

CHAPTER 37

Darcy

The last week had flown. The too-short days comprised of me strolling past the small library, where Lizzy was now furiously typing, approximately one thousand times a day, or taking coffee, tea, and cakes into her in different increments.

When I’d done so much of the strolling and taking-in-tea it was getting ridiculous, I walked past her window and pretended to brush off the outdoor furniture and check the patio heaters. Which I had absolutely no idea how to do. Once, I’d even grabbed a wheelbarrow filled with trimmings and clipped some topiary, earning myself a stern scolding from the head gardener about how the elephant’s tail was now anatomically incorrect. The rest of the time, I waited restlessly in my office until noon, when it was a quick sandwich outside, and then four p.m., when it was time for our walk through the forest or to some ruin or view on the estate, after which we cleaned up and had dinner with Tabitha.

Whether we were together or apart, my body was electric with longing. I yearned for Lizzy, a savage ache that unsettled my every living second. I wanted to take her in my arms, kiss her, and sweep her upstairs to my bedroom. It took every inchof my self-control to stop myself, but kissing Lizzy was its own wonderment. Waiting to take things further meant more.

We were on our last walk together before her departure, a gradual uphill incline, and we were both sweaty when we reached the lake.

She fanned her face. “I have a confession,” she said.

Was this good? I searched her face, but I couldn’t work out her emotion.

“I sent my first chapters to my agent, Charlie.”

A bolt of worry shot through me that maybe her writing hadn’t gone as well as it seemed.

“Oh, Darcy,” she gushed. “Charlie loved the chapters. She said they were the best thing I’d ever written. I’m so excited about writing the rest, and I know I have you to thank for some of that.”

“I’m so happy for you. And don’t thank me. You’re doing all the work.” I wanted us to do something special to mark this moment. Something she loved. A fancy dinner wouldn’t do the trick.

For once, I was going to suggest something impetuous.

“Why don’t we go swimming to celebrate? In our clothes, of course.”

“What a perfect idea. I’d love that.” She bounced up and down, clapping her hands at the prospect.

We stripped off our hiking boots and socks and waded in wearing our shorts and T-shirts, her racing, me doing my usual, picking my way through the water. What the hell? I ran in, kicking my knees high, water splashing around me, and dove under. We both swam up and down for a while, then laughed and joked and splashed each other like kids.

“Wish you could stay longer,” I said as we treaded water.

“I need to get back to Oodles and…” She didn’t seem sure now.