Page 68 of Soaring Sweethearts

Even if the reverend made him break out in a cold sweat every time Jack came by, nothing was going to keep him away from Constance, especially after that glorious night together. He’d slept half the day after that and woken up hard as a rock, memories seeping in the moment he’d regained consciousness. The reality of her sweet trembling as he made her come over and over, of her lips and tongue on his cock, of being inside her and moving with her—it was so much better than his most heated daydreams.

She’d given him such a gift, not just her body but her heart, and he had to prove himself worthy. Convincing her family that he was all in wouldn’t be easy, but he knew how important they were to her.

As his finger hovered over the doorbell, a milliner’s box hanging from his other hand, he took a deep breath to calm his pounding heart.

Once again, Reverend Pritchard opened the door. His eyebrows rose as he took in the hat box. “Another gift?”

“Yes, sir.”

The reverend nodded slowly, the slightest hint of a smirk on his otherwise straight face. “You’d better come upstairs and give it to her yourself.”

He followed the reverend into the parlor and waited as Reverend Pritchard went to fetch Constance. The rest of the family must have still been upstairs getting ready because it was quiet aside from shuffling on the floorboards above. Looking at the family portrait Ernie drew that now hung over the mantel, he couldn’t help but fixate on Constance. Somehow, Ernie had captured Constance’s quiet strength. It was something about her posture as she stood with her sisters, and her serene smile. Even looking at a picture of her made his heart beat faster.

He hummed “All That I Ask of You is Love” absently until footsteps on the stairs made him straighten and turn. His heart skipped a beat as Constance descended the final steps in a dusky rose dress that matched her lips. She wore a smile just for him, full of secret promise. “Hi, Jack.”

“Hi.” The sight of her made him want to recite poetry, but somehow every word in his vocabulary fled his mind. It was a wonder he managed any greeting at all.

With a quick glance at the stairs to make sure they didn’t have an audience, he leaned down and kissed her, long and soft, dragging it out as much as he dared beneath this roof. Who needed ice cream when kissing Constance was so much sweeter? But the sound of footsteps made them end it, well before he was ready.

Mrs. Pritchard appeared in an old-fashioned white tea dress. It might have been a decade out of style, but she wore it well. As she caught site of the two of them, she narrowed her eyes and gave them a knowing smile. “Are you two behaving yourselves?”

“Yes, Mrs. Pritchard,” he lied through his teeth.

She chuckled and disappeared into the kitchen.

“I got you something,” he said, holding up the hatbox for Constance, determined to be on his best behavior for the rest of the afternoon.

“Oh! You shouldn’t have. You’ve been spoiling me all week.” The way she looked at him from under her lush, dark lashes made him wish he had given her a pony, or the island of Manhattan, or maybe the moon instead of a measly hat. Because nothing was good enough or big enough to convey just how much he adored her.

“I’d give you the whole world wrapped up in a bow if I could.” Christ, he had it bad. There were probably little cupids hovering around him, using him for target practice. It was a good thing Ernie wasn’t around. He’d tease him mercilessly for the rest of his days for how love-drunk he sounded.

Jack held out the box, and she took it, her fingers brushing his as he relinquished it. It was a good thing Mrs. Pritchard was in the next room because otherwise that innocent touch might have sent his good intentions flying out the door.

Opening the box, Constance pulled out the straw hat with a pink bow and silk roses on either side that the milliner said Constance had her eye on. Her face lit up like a summer afternoon as she pulled it out. “Oh, Jack! How did you know? It’s perfect!”

She put it on and beamed at him. “It even matches my dress.”

“I’m glad you like it, sweetheart.” His male pride purred as he took in her loveliness. As far as he was concerned, he was stepping out with the most beautiful woman in New York City. And she was all his.

The reverend descended the stairs, followed by Verity and Prudence.

Chuckling as he saw them, the reverend said, “You two run along. We’ll follow in a bit.”

It was very kind of him to give them a private moment together, and Jack didn’t need to be asked twice.

“Shall we?” he held out his arm, and Constance took it, her delicate touch sending ripples of deliciousness all through him.

As they strolled through the tree-lined streets past stately rows of brownstones, he puffed out his chest in pride. Constance Pritchard could have chosen anyone, but her heart belonged to him. It was so tempting to pull her into some shady alcove and kiss her, but he was on his best behavior. Besides, he was in a mood to show her off, not hide her away. He wanted the whole world to know she was his.

As they stepped through the doors of the church and made their way through the cool, silent sanctuary, lit only by the stained-glass windows that lined its walls, he couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to stand at the front and watch her walking down the aisle toward him dressed all in white.

Soon, he promised himself. He just had to survive the next few months and not let his job kill him. Then they would be able to spend the rest of their lives together.

They headed to the side door that led to the patio beside the sanctuary where the social was to be held and opened the door to absolute mayhem.

The tables were only half set up, and a crowd of squalling children besieged a haggard-looking Doug as adults pelted him with a loud and blistering barrage of complaints. Somehow, this social had gone terribly awry, and it had barely even gotten started.

Doug stiffened as he caught sight of the two of them, but he called out, “Constance, thank goodness you’re here. I need your help.”