“I have a preference for well-made machines,” Darcy said. “You forget that I studied engineering. I mean… I fixed the radiator. I could look at the toaster.”
Just then, the toaster chimed, and two dark-brown slices of toast popped up.
“Oh, so now it works,” Elizabeth said, mostly to herself.
“I was about to say the same thing,” Darcy replied, turning to the machine. He reached for the toast. “Would you like a slice?”
She was about to say no.
“Fine,” she said instead.
If for no other reason than the lingering adrenaline… or because a part of her could not quite bring herself to look away from his chest.
Not yet.
***
They were standing at the kitchen counter, eating toast in silence, when the sound of bare feet on the stairs announced that the situation was about to become more complicated.
Mia appeared in the doorway in an oversized sleep shirt, her hair in a state that suggested a serious commitment to unconsciousness, squinting against the kitchen light. Her gaze moved from Darcy to Elizabeth, then to the bat still in Elizabeth’s hand.
“Mr. Darcy.” Her expression shifted, not quite surprise. “You’re back.”
“I got in around one,” he said. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”
“You didn’t.” She nodded toward Elizabeth. “She did. I heard her on the stairs, then her voice.” Her words slowed as she focused properly. “Why do you have Dad’s bat?”
“I thought he was an intruder,” Elizabeth said.
Mia looked at Darcy. Then at Elizabeth. Then back at the bat, which Elizabeth realised she was still holding.
“He’s shirtless,” Mia said.
“I can see that,” Elizabeth said, a little too quickly.
“And you’re in your nightgown.”
“I in bed before coming downstairs,” Elizabeth replied. “Being in my nighties isn’t unusual.”
Mia shifted her weight against the doorframe, one brow lifting slightly as she took the scene in again, slower this time.
“A shirtless Mr. Darcy and Aunt Elizabeth in her nightgown at two in the morning.” She tilted her head. “That sounds like something off Wattpad romance.”
“Mia.”
“I’m just noting the situation.”
“There is no situation,” Elizabeth said. “I came downstairs because I heard a noise and thought someone had broken in. If he hadn’t turned around in time, I would have hit him with the bat.”
Mia looked at Darcy. “Is that true?”
Darcy glanced at Elizabeth. “She would have tried.”
Mia nodded slowly. “So, what you’re saying is, at two in the afternoon, the news could have reported that a signed Derek Jeter bat nearly took out one of New York’s most eligible millionaires… because he wanted toast.”
She delivered the last part in a faintly polished, newscaster tone.
Elizabeth pressed her lips. Darcy looked away.
