Jane and Bingley (Countdown to Christmas Book 8) Page 3

  Slowly, Jane pulled the gift toward her and then revealed why she had put off opening it. “I really don’t understand why you feel the need to buy me so many gifts. I didn’t get you much—which you still haven’t opened—” She pointed to the room where he’d left the parcel the night before. “And now I feel bad opening yet another present from you.”

  He shook his head. “Please don’t. We agreed to wait until the last day of Christmas, remember?”

  “You agreed. I didn’t say anything.”

  Was this really going to be a problem? “Would you like me to open it now?”

  She winced. “No. Yes. I don’t know. I just wish we could celebrate this together, and without you opening gifts too, I don’t think it’s fair.”

  Was that all? He laughed and gestured toward the bag. “Open it. You’ll see.”

  Finally, her curiosity won out, and she removed the tissue paper and peeked inside. “What?” He grinned as she pulled out first one bag of Dove chocolates, and then another. Soon, a bag of caramels and a bag of pecans joined them. “What is this?”

  “Two turtle doves, of course.”

  It took her a moment, puzzling over the four bags before her face lit up. “We’re making chocolate turtles out of Dove chocolate.”

  “Yep.”

  “Together. As in, this was what you had planned for today?” Her grin was contagious.

  “Unless you can think of something else…”

  “No! I love it. This is perfect. And we can share.” She stood up and got two aprons, tossing one to him. “Put this on and start unwrapping those caramels! We need some dessert to go with that lunch.”

  “Bossy.” What was it about confident women that caused his heart to flip?

  They spent the next thirty minutes or so making a much bigger mess in the kitchen than either wanted to admit. “That chocolate on the cupboard doors has to be from you. My bowl is still perfect, see?”

  Jane laughed and flung a chunk of chocolate from her bowl to his. “There. Now it’s messy too.”

  Charles gasped and then saved the random chunk by eating it. They were going to create two huge chocolate turtles, but after several attempts, decided that a bunch of smaller ones would be much better.

  They were. The whole day was as perfect as it could be. After they ate way too much chocolate, and then cleaned up their mess, Charles and Jane sat down in the small living room and talked and laughed and slowly began to dream again. His heart nearly tripled as she stood up on tiptoe and kissed him as he left.

  “What time tomorrow?” she asked, her voice a bit deeper than usual.

  “What’s tomorrow? The third day? Oh! That’s a fun one. You do have an evening gown, right?”

  Her eyebrows rose. “An evening gown? Are you kidding? For what?”

  “To get your French hens, of course.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Three French Hens

  Jane shook her head as she closed the door on that exasperatingly smug grin. Charles was enjoying this all too much. As she walked into the kitchen, she found herself thinking about his easy-going manner that day. Eight months, and it was as if he’d never left—or even better than that. It was as if they’d been together all that time and had only grown stronger. Her heart skipped a bit when she saw his adorable attempt at making chocolate turtles. Ten points for trying. The man certainly was no Julia Child or Martha Stewart, but what he lacked in skill, he certainly made up for with his willingness and fun attitude.

  She chuckled and then paused a moment. Just as soon as she had laughed, she began to cry. Without reason, those silly stupid tears began to fall. Turning off the lights, she made her way to her bedroom, curled up on her pretty white four-poster bed, and sobbed into her blue lace pillow.

  She’d believed she’d never have this type of crazy fun again, but here he was. Her own foolish Christmas wish come true—the man she’d given up on was actually making an effort to see her again. This was real. And she had ten more marvelous days to enjoy it.

  A part of her wondered if she’d wake up and find herself still on Christmas Day, anxiety-ridden and asleep on the couch, dreaming up this whole magical thing.

  She wiped at her eyes and rolled over, staring at her ceiling. What if at the end of this, things fell apart again? Could she bear the separation, the rejection? What if this really was all just a fun, fleeting moment? What if he suddenly decided he didn’t want her again? Jane took a moment and allowed that thought to wrap itself around her, its cold, sad vibe paralyzing her limbs. What if she really wasn’t worth all the effort?

  This was silly. She had to stay strong. Or learn to let go, and just accept that things will happen as they will. No one could control what would happen over the next week or so, but was she willing to push away the possibility of happiness because she was afraid of rejection again?

  No.

  Jane took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Her whole life consisted of thinking of others first, of hoping for the best. She refused to follow the latest gossip, or engage in petty arguments. People said she wore rose-colored glasses, and maybe she did. But why was it so hard to imagine that Charles could possibly be sincere? Why could she so easily believe that he would leave her again, when everything he was doing now should prove that he wanted her and wanted a future with her?

  What if she wasn’t worth it? What if she was never meant to hold her own against a rising star in the business world? What was she, after all, but an elementary school librarian? Nothing of importance. Just a girl who gave up her dreams to help her Aunt Phyllis. Not that she regretted it—of course not. To see the children’s eyes flash once she got them hooked on reading was worth every lost opportunity with her chosen profession.

  When she woke up the next morning, Jane rummaged through her closet and couldn’t come up with anything remotely resembling an evening gown. The closest thing she could find was the dress she wore for Eliza’s wedding, but it wasn’t long enough. It only came to her knees. Besides, she wanted something splashy. Something pretty and elegant, but flattering, too.

  After a few hurried texts where she confirmed Charles wouldn’t be showing up until six that night, she grabbed her purse and her sister’s extra key and headed over to Eliza’s house. She was supposed to be watering the plants and bringing in the mail anyway. She’d bet a hundred dollars her sister had the perfect dress hanging unused in her closet.

  Eliza really had to ramp up her wardrobe when she began working with Will. The two sisters had spent countless hours at the mall and online ordering outfits that could travel easily and still be stunning enough to go to cocktail parties and fancy dinners and upscale business meetings. After Eliza had chewed Will out over his lacking wardrobe, the two sisters knew she’d never hear the end of it if she didn’t absolutely rock everything she wore.

  As Jane pushed open the front door, there was only a slight feeling of unease. Just that little knowledge that you’re all alone in a place. She set the mail on top of a pink notebook on the table nearest the couch and then quickly headed into the bedroom. There were a few boxes around, but no serious packing had been done yet. Eliza still had two months left on the lease, so she had planned to move into Will’s holy-amazing mansion slowly.

  Jane sifted through several dresses. It looked like Eliza had taken all of the really pretty ones for her honeymoon, which was totally understandable. Jane was about to go ahead and wear her silver one from the wedding after all, when she caught a faint glitter from the back. Hidden behind some jackets was a plastic-wrapped gown. It was a chic black color, and attached to the plastic was a note that read, “For Jane. Merry Christmas.”

  “What?” Jane blinked. “Are you kidding me?” Didn’t they already exchange gifts? She thought of the pearl earrings and matching bracelet she’d given Eliza right before the wedding, but she couldn’t recall what Eliza had given her. In all the frazzled preparations, did she forget?

  Jane whisked the plastic off the dress and found a beautifully
laced and beaded mermaid gown. It was floor length and gorgeous. Two pretty capped sleeves accented the top, though it was the gold, maroon, and white floral brooch that was pinned at the waist that really set off the gown. It was almost bridal in design, except in sophisticated black. Had Eliza known she would need this exact dress?

  There was no way. Even Charles didn’t realize he was planning the twelve days of Christmas until now. After holding the dress up and twirling around in front of the mirror, she headed home to try it on and get ready.

  All day, she primped and pampered herself until she literally glowed when Charles knocked on the door.

  “Wow! You look beautiful.” His wide eyes and smile was all the compliment she needed.

  “Wow yourself. A tux? You didn’t even wear a tux to the wedding.” What was it about a man in a well-tailored tux that could take your breath away?

  “Don’t you like it?”

  “Definitely,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound too eager. Clearing her throat, she finished lamely, “It works on you.”

  He winked. “Glad to know you approve. So, are you ready to go?”

  “Yes, but I still have no idea how French hens and dressing posh correlate.”

  “Oh, ye of little faith. You must trust me. Now where’s your coat?”

  It wasn’t until he pulled onto the grounds of La Caille, one of the ritziest French restaurants in Utah, that she realized they might possibly be eating the French hens. She had never personally eaten there, but had heard how incredible the food was.

  She grinned as he opened her car door, knowing he couldn’t deny it now. “So you’re taking me out for French chicken?”

  “Only if you don’t like my actual plan. But knowing your love of seafood, I’m going to assume that chicken will be the last thing you order.”

  What in the world was he on about? “Seafood?”

  “Aha! The librarian doesn’t know everything!” He tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and walked her toward the beautifully decorated restaurant.

  It looked like something straight from Europe. The grounds were elegant, and Jane jumped when a large, colorful bird flew in front of her up into one of the nearest trees. Its wings were bright blue, and feathers a distinct green against the white of the snow around them. “Was that a peacock?”

  “Yes. Pretty, isn’t it?”

  “Peacocks live in Utah?”

  “La Caille has had peafowl for years. I believe it may be the largest community of the birds in the state.”

  She glanced around the formal gardens and took in the big lake, ornamental bridges, cobblestone paths, and glowing fairy lights. “I bet this place looks breathtaking in the summer.”

  “Fantastic venue for a wedding.”

  Wedding. She caught her breath as she glanced into his dark eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard a man say something like that.”

  He blushed slightly and looked down, and then those eyes met hers again. “What? Can’t a man think of planning weddings like you women do?”

  She shrugged and began to walk toward the building, trying as best she could to keep calm—though her heart was definitely betraying her. “Never really thought about it before.”

  By the time they were seated in the elegant, lavishly decorated dining room, her heart had almost returned to normal. She glanced around the room and took note of the large chandeliers and Christmas greenery boughs. Their decorator deserved whatever praise they received. It was like stepping back in time to a magical place.

  “Can I order for us both?” Charles was searching through the menu.

  “Of course, but I’m not certain I should trust you.”

  He chuckled and glanced up at her. “I always knew you were an intelligent woman.”

  “So, what do you have in mind?”

  “Three French hens, remember?”

  She tried not to roll her eyes as she shook her head. “Yes, and you said we weren’t eating chicken.”

  Just then, the waitress came over with their drinks. “Are you ready to order?”

  One final glance at Jane before he ordered. “Yes. We’d like to start with an artisanal cheese board, and then lobster bisque, and halibut a la Basquaise. Oh, and please add a lobster tail to each dinner course as well.”

  Jane nearly choked. “Charles, that’s a ton of food. How in the world will I ever eat it?”

  He winked again. “If there are leftovers—which I doubt—you’ll enjoy them too.” He took a sip of his water. “Besides, I haven’t even ordered the dessert. I thought you’d like to do that afterward.”

  “Thank you, sir. Any drinks?”

  His eyes roamed over Jane, as if he wished they were alone. She wasn’t even sure he heard. “Not yet. We’ll let you know if we need something,” she replied. He still hadn’t stopped staring at her. Once the waitress left, she asked, “What?”

  His eyes softened, and he shook his head slightly. Everything in the room seemed to freeze at once. Even her breathing became much more pronounced.

  “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “It just hit me, I’m actually here at La Caille with the most beautiful woman in the world—and I began to wonder how such a thoughtless person could be as lucky as I am.”

  She looked down as she felt her neck and cheeks redden, having no idea how to respond to him. Where to start? “You’re not thoughtless, and I certainly wouldn’t say I was the most be—”

  “Beautiful person in the world? You only say that because you can’t see how you sparkle compared to everyone else. You honestly can’t see yourself.”

  If he didn’t stop, she’d turn as red as the lobster tails he’d ordered.

  “And you’re wrong.” He leaned forward. “I am thoughtless. I’m completely stupid. And I ask myself constantly how you could forgive me as well as you have.”

  Here it was. That confession she knew he’d give. She dreaded hearing why everything stopped, his real reason for leaving—reminding her that at any time, he could decide she wasn’t enough again. Her heart clenched, and one hand braced against the linen tablecloth. Her mouth dropped open slightly, but she couldn’t say anything. She had no words.

  It didn’t matter. Charles wasn’t done by a long shot. “I need to apologize for ending this—us—and taking off to New York, and basically leaving you hanging with the lamest excuse of not wanting to try a long-distance relationship.”

  “Charles—”

  He shook his head. “No, I need to get this out there. Just a minute and then we can talk, but first, please let me genuinely apologize for my mistake. I could blame several different things, but honestly, I was scared. The error is mine, and I own it. If I’d listened to my heart, this never would’ve happened. Had I been man enough to accept how I really feel, I’m certain you and I would be having a very different conversation over this dinner.”

  He reached over and tenderly held her hand.

  “Jane, I love you. I know that now. I wasn’t sure before, but without you, I’m completely miserable. I can see in your eyes that you doubt me, but I will prove it to you. And if one day down the road, you’re able to see past my faults and still find that spark we once had, then I’ll celebrate.” He took a deep breath. “However, no pressure. If all we ever become is friends, I’ll be forever grateful for whatever time I get to spend with you.”

  Her mind was whirling with a thousand questions—what did he mean, if he had listened to his heart? Was there something more to the story? But her questions were drowned out by the frantic beating of her heart.

  “And Jane, forgive me for the way I acted at your sister’s wedding. Honestly, I was frightened. I knew I didn’t deserve you. And when I first saw you, leaning over whispering something to Eliza and then laughing, I started to shake. I’m not kidding—my knees actually began to tremble. I had no idea the effect you had on me until that moment, and I needed time to compose myself. What I didn’t realize was that I’d taken too much time and had hurt you again before I’d even
had a chance to make up for the past.

  “I’m stumbling over my words. I don’t think men in general were meant to actually communicate with women.” He grinned. “No, I’m serious. I think we mess up so much that God probably intended for us to be mute just so we wouldn’t be so impolite. Except Eve probably begged for Adam to have a voice, thinking she honestly wanted his opinion, and ruined it completely for the rest of you.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “So, are you implying Eve is to blame for the ridiculous things men say?”

  He leaned back and put his hands up in front of him. “See what I mean? We aren’t supposed to talk.”

  Jane chuckled as the waitress walked over with their bread and cheese. “You certainly do keep things exciting. And what girl doesn’t love a little drama?”

  After the dinner course was over and she’d eaten all she could, and they were making their way back home, Jane couldn’t help but ask, “So, where are the French hens?”

  Charles pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and handed it to her. “Google the word ‘hen.’”

  Jane didn’t even have to Google. She looked up, shocked she hadn’t thought of it before. “Female lobsters are hens!”

  He grinned. “La Caille lobster bisque, lobster tails—I’m sure we’ve had our fair share of French hens today.”

  “You got me on that one. I can’t believe I didn’t think of how to correlate the two.”

  He glanced over and waggled his brows in the darkness of the car. “Just wait until tomorrow.”

  “Four calling birds, right?” She leaned back in her seat and sighed happily. Who would have thought this Christmas would be so fun? “And how would you like me to dress?”

  “Warm. There’s snow on the ground, and we’re going to be taking a stroll.”

  “So, warm as in, jacket and gloves? Or should I put on my snow boots and coat?”

  “Definitely the snow boots. I’ll be here at noon,” he said as he pulled up into her complex. Then he leaned over and kissed her, his soft lips mingling perfectly with hers.