Page 45 of Book Boyfriends
“It’s Kenny,” I say slowly. “Who also happens to be Davis.”
“What!” Her amber eyes are saucer-sized.
I hold up the bakery bag. “I’ll tell you over this.”
The afternoon heat still lingers, making me loathe the short walk from my car to the carriage house. Jackson’s car is parked behind Hope’s in the driveway, which will, no doubt, annoy Rem. Though I’m sure that’s why he does it. Precocious is how we described juvenile Jackson, but at twenty-nine he leans into loveable asshole territory. He’s the brother that is always there for us when we make a mistake, but he’s also the first to give us shit about said mistake.
“Rabbit!” Lars’s gruff voice greets me as I walk into the backyard, causing me to halt.
Jackson and Lars sit beneath the large patio umbrella…Arm-wrestling?Brow pinched, my jaw nearly hits the cobblestone path that loops through the backyard.
“Hey, sis!” Jackson waves with his free hand and then juts his chin at Lars. “You’re going down, Twilight.”
“Dream on, pretty boy.”
“At least you admit I’m prettier than you.” Jackson’s mouth slants into a lopsided grin.
What the actual fuck, I mouth. The last message from Jackson that came in before I left SPN said he’d see me at the house. I assumed that meant just him. Not Lars.Wait… Where are the other two?
“My lady!” Lord James drawls, causing me to turn.
“Good gravy.” My murmur is breathless.
Lord James saunters from my carriage house, his green eyes fixed on me. His typical Mr. Darcy outfit has been replaced by a suit. The way the navy fabric molds over his sculpted physique may be illegal in several states. No indication of the balmy airmars his face, whereas sweat kisses my hairline and pools in unsexy places.
“The only thing more stunning than this day is you.” Reaching me, he takes my right hand, and lifts it to his mouth and presses a gentle kiss to my knuckles.
“Th…th…thank you,” I stammer. Shaking away the temporary dazed sensation caused by my sexy duke looking like the archetype for a billionaire romance male love interest, I spin. “Jackson, what are they doing here?”
“Not happy to see us, rabbit?” Lars says through gritted teeth, his face scrunched in the battle with my brother.
“No!”
“Wounded,” Lars teases, pushing my brother’s arm closer to the tabletop.
“I’m sorry.” Sighing, I peer between him and Lord James, a half-stoic, half-indignant expression fills the duke’s features. “I’m happy to see you both. I’m sorry for my rudeness. It’s just… The whole reason Jackson took you is to hide this from Hope and Rem.” I rub my temples.
“My lady, would you care to lie down? You look unwell.” Lord James tucks a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. “I could carry you upstairs and put you to bed,” he says, his voice dripping with sinful intentions.
“Oh….” My mouth goes dry.
“No, you don’t.” Jackson slams Lars’s arm to the table and jumps up. “We talked about this, Lord No Boundaries. There will be none of your Mr. Darcy seductiveness outside of your official date time.”
“Official date time?” I ask.
“Each bachelor will have an official date over the next six days.”
“Six days?” Face scrunched, I tilt my head. Fogginess creeps in, nipping at my ability to follow the thread.
“Should give you enough time to decide which man to take to the wedding and who you’d like to pursue something with.”
Lars steps beside Jackson, patting his shoulder. “Jacky boy worked it out. Each of us will take you on a date; a meal and an activity. The activity we plan, to woo you. You know, romance and all that shit.”
“Smooth, K-9 Club.” Jackson shakes his head. “And because we don’t subscribe to archaic gender roles, the meal portion of the dateyouplan… You know, romance and all that shit.”
I laugh at his repetition of my little tut from earlier. Despite the ridiculousness of this entire situation, Jackson treats this like it’s normal. As if we’re not talking about people’s lives—even if three of those people are fictional. Still, it’s sweetly reassuring. Although what isn’t reassuring is that they are here and….
“Where’s Owen?” I look around.
