Page 29 of Book Boyfriends
“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” I croak.
“I know.” Owen places a hand on my shoulder, its warmth forcing my focus to him. “Let’s have tea and muffins, and we’ll talk.”
“Are they gluten free, because my sister has celiacs, and?—”
I shoot him a sharp look and lift my hand a little. Clearly, my brother is unable to turn off his ability to interfere in my life. I know he and Rem both mean well. My mother’s soft voice almost whispers inside me,“That’s what brothers do for sisters,”but it would be nice if they meant well just a little less.
“Of course they are. I would never do anything to put Georgia at risk.” Owens’ forehead pinches.
“How’d you know?” I clear my throat.
“After we appeared”—he makes air quotes with his fingers—“I decided to do some stress-relieving baking as we put things together. You only had gluten free ingredients in your cabinets, which I used for the muffins. But thank you for letting me know it’s a dietary restriction versus a preference.” He juts his chin toward Jackson. “Now, there’s a lot to process, so let’s get to it.”
And that’s what we do. I sit, my fingers curled tight around myBook Men v. Real Menmug—the irony not lost on me—and peer between each man that claims a different part of the apartment. Owen sits beside me, his expression warm, offering periodic reassuring pats on my thigh. Lars leans against the windowsill, his arms crossed and his gaze moving between Jackson and me. Jackson almost mirrors Lars’s position but leans against the kitchen island facing into the living room. Lord James sits, posture upright and rigid, expression flat, at my small dining room table.
“You tossed a penny into a fountain, and this happened?” Jackson scrubs his palms down his face.
“It appears so,” I say with a slight tremor in my voice. After laying it all out for my brother and my trio of suitors, it makes even less sense. There’s no logical explanation for any of this. Ididn’t wish for this.All I want is to know what my happy ending is and how to get it.I lean my head against the sofa cushions. “What have I done?”
“How do we fix this?” Jackson waves his hand in front of him.
Lord James’s right eyebrow ticks up. “Fix what?”
“You all. Getting you back to your books.”
“There’s nothing to fix,” Lars says dismissively. “We’re here for a purpose?—”
“But you’renotreal.”
“Was I not real when I knocked you on your ass.”
“Rematch?” Jackson’s mouth quirks.
Lars mirrors Jackson’s smirk. “Anytime.”
“Enough with the dick swinging.” I place my mug on the coffee table and stand up. “I don’t know what is happening, but they are here for a reason.”
As farcical as this is, there’s a reason for this. I want to know what my happy ending is and how to get it. Whether fate, my happy ending-riddled brain, or the lucky penny Doc gave me that conjured these men, there’s a reason they are here.
“Fine.” Jackson straightens. “If you’re going to do this, we might as well do it properly.”
“What does that mean?” I face him.
“Let’s figure out which one of these bachelors is the future Mr. Georgia Lane.”
“Wait? You believe that one of them is meant to be with me?” I shoot him a disbelieving look.
Jackson may be my fun brother, but he’s still the logical one. He’s Mr. Finance with his quarterly projections and love of spreadsheets.
“It’s about as far-fetched as the idea of three fictional men coming to life. No offense, guys.” He flashes an apologetic smirk. “Somehow they’re here and they believe their purpose is to date you.”
“It’s ridiculous.” I toss my hands.
“Now who’s rude?” Lars snarks.
“Sorry.” I frown. “It’s just… This is a lot to process. And how are you so accepting of this?” I ask Jackson.
“Because in business, you sometimes have to trust your gut, and mine says this is real. They appeared after you made a wish for your happy ending. If they’re real, then so is their purpose.”
