A pesky ember of hope sparks in my chest.Friends don’t make friends blush from simple eye contact.
Family, Jack. Family.
Sounds like heaven with her. Fuck.
“We’re needed on the stage in a few, Mr. Wickham. Darcy, you, too.”
My eyes rest on her, studying the nervous bob of her throat and how a flash of uncertainty passes through her gaze. The list and all the other reasons why I shouldn’t go up in flames as hope and yearning burn in my chest in a blazing wildfire.
I should talk to Aulie after the fair today before I have time to talk myself out of it.
“Earth to Jack.” Aulie’s honey voice draws me back to reality.
Standing up, I offer her my arm. “Shall we, my love?” I move the tent flaps aside, soaking in the admiring gaze Aulie is directing to my face. A look that says she’s mine.
It’s for the fair.
I’m not naïve enough to think she’s that far gone in real life. But I choose to hug the expression tight to my chest for now and hope she’ll glance at me like that for real someday.
“Thirty more minutes, and you’re officially a free man, Mr. Wickham. How do you feel?” she asks.
Half agony I won’t have an excuse to touch you tomorrow, and half hope you might let me anyways.
* * *
“Are you coming?”Aulie pulls her dress over her head, and I blink back the shock at seeing her in a bra and panties for the second time today.
Yesterday, I left after my scheduled time, so I missed how comfortable everyone in this group is changing in front of each other—almost like a locker room, except it’s co-ed and has Aulie in it. Today, reluctant to release her grip on my arm and this role where I could flirt with her, I remained in character and wandered around the fairgrounds with Aulie, even though our characters were no longer required for the rest of the story.
A handful of excited fairgoers asked if we would pose with them for selfies, and we obliged them. The smile I tepidly wore yesterday grew stronger, proud to share my “wife” with others and basking in the sparkle that had all but returned to her gaze.
“Jack?”
I blink and rub a hand over the stubble on my cheeks after two days of letting it grow. “Huh?”
“I asked if you’re coming.” Aulie’s eyes connect with mine, and she blushes, understanding my stupor. She’s right there, within arm’s reach, and my hand tingles with the urge to wrap an arm around her waist and pull her tight against me and see if she’d mold into me the way she did in the garden. What sound would pass over her lips this time if I dragged my teeth across her earlobe?
“Coming where?” I ask, powering up my phone. Hopefully, I have a text message or something that will pull my attention away from this damn woman who changes impossibly slowly.
“To the afterparty. We host one in the backyard after the first Sunday of the fair for the crew.”
“Oh. Right.” I scratch my head. If this conversation goes poorly, I doubt I’ll want to spend time at a party with my rejection hovering around me, but then again, if it goes well, I won’t want to share Aulie with a bunch of people for the night, either. “I—uhm, I wanted to talk to you first, if that’s okay.”
“Oh? Yeah, what’s up?”
“So about today.”
“Oh, yes, right.” The blush on Aulie’s face grows, and she grabs her shirt and throws it on with an embarrassed gusto.
My phone vibrates wildly in my hand.
Mom: Simone is going into labor.
Tom: Hey, half-pint, can you meet us at the hospital and grab Lucy? Amy was supposed to take her, but Coby and Grant have a stomach bug.
Simone: Need you. Now.
Shit. Shit. Shit. In haste, I shrug off my breeches, pull my pants on, and button them. I was going to change after the conversation, but never mind then. “I have to go.”
