He had half expected her to blow them off. It was one thing to test him in the foyer of Charlie’s house, where it felt like battle lines had been drawn directly into the marble floor. But it was another to spend an evening at a country club full of blue bloods on the beach. Yet here she was, hair down and walking toward him in a denim skirt that was frayed along her thighs, a pair of combat boots, and a tight green top that revealed the soft dip of where her collarbones met.
So, it would be self-restraint, then.
She stopped a few feet in front of him. Her head tilted to the side, like she needed to examine him from a different angle. It caused a few strands of red hair to drift across her cheek.
“Are you waiting for me?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s the polite thing to do.”
“Ah,” she said, nodding as if this thought hadn’t occurred to her. “I thought you might be running interference.”
He blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“That you’re here to convince me not to go in.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because I fully intend on revealing all your worst habits.”
“Such as?”
She gave him a tight smile. “We’ll start with your sparkling personality and just go from there.”
He stared down at her. She looked gorgeous right now, but not in any way that was familiar. Elizabeth Bennet was an objectively beautiful woman, there was no denying that, but her confidence was what truly set her apart. It didn’t rely on how she looked or what she wore; it was a surety that made everything else superfluous.
“I am not afraid of you,” he finally replied.
He didn’t mean for the words to come out so low, so suggestive, but her dark eyes still flared. Then they narrowed on him, like she had caught herself and a retort was already taking form on her tongue. A hot spike hit his pulse in anticipation.
Birdie’s voice cut through the air behind him. “Will, sweetheart, what’s taking you so long? Our reservation is foreight.”
He glanced over his shoulder to see his aunt standing in the club’s threshold, tapping a finger against her wrist before disappearing inside again.
“Don’t worry,” Lizzy said, her voice suddenly low and husky as she walked ahead toward the door. “My courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate me.”
His jaw clenched.Shit.
The main lobby of the club led straight to the dining room just beyond. The maître d’ led them through the half-empty space, serpentining his way around the other patrons, to their usual spot by the window. Birdie and George were already seated at the table his aunt always reserved, mainly because it offered the best view of both the water and the rest of the dining room.
Birdie was seated beside George, leaving the two chairs opposite free. George stood as they arrived, and Will half expected him to offer Lizzy his seat. She would probably take it, too, as it would be the furthest she could get from Will without moving to anentirely different table. Before she could consider it, Will pulled out the chair beside his, and nodded to her. She stared at him for a moment, then, to his surprise, she took it.
“Yes, perfect. Elizabeth, you sit there, and Will, you sit across from me,” Birdie said, snapping her fingers at her nephew.
Lizzy’s arm brushed against Will’s as she sat. He tried to ignore it as he took his seat beside her and picked up his menu. He didn’t tear his eyes away from it until the waiter appeared, listing the specials while Will pretended to listen. Then he vaguely remembered ordering a beer. Lizzy might have ordered one, too, but he couldn’t be sure. All he knew was that the smell of vanilla lingered in the air between them, so potent he wanted to lean toward her, find out if it was the scent of her hair or her skin.
“I’m so sorry, Elizabeth,” Birdie said, leaning across the table to give Lizzy an exaggerated frown. “Will really should have told you about the dress code. I hope you’re not too uncomfortable. No one will mind about the denim, I promise.”
Lizzy’s back was straight as she placed her napkin on her lap. Then Will watched a small, audacious smile curl up the corners of her full lips. “Well, that’s a relief.”
He looked away, clearing his throat.
“So how do you two know each other again?” George asked.
“That’s a good question,” Lizzy said. Her voice was light, like a breath, but there was a rough edge to it. Always that rough edge. Like its softness had been worn down by salt water. “Will’s friend Charlie is dating my sister. Orwasdating her. I’m having trouble keeping track. Do you have any insight on that, Will?”
