Jane and Bingley (Countdown to Christmas Book 8) (2 page)

The place smelled stale and unused. And cold. Yeesh, it was frigid. He rubbed his hands together as he walked into the small kitchen, searching for something to warm himself with until the walls decided to thaw out. In a bottom cupboard, he found an old kettle, filled it up, and placed it on the stove to whistle at him when it was done. Then after a few vain attempts of looking in empty cupboards, he finally found the tin of hot cocoa that had been stashed above the oven for safekeeping last year. Even it was cold as he attempted to remove the tight lid. Once it was open, he put some spoonfuls into a mug.

Then he waited.

And waited.

Why did it take so long for water to boil?

He pushed off from the counter and instead went to unpack his luggage. He had told the New York team that he was taking a month off, and anything urgent could be sent via email. Revolutionary Innovations was soaring in the Big Apple, even bigger than he or Will Darcy could’ve predicted eight short months ago. Will’s designs were incredible and definitely needed in today’s ever-changing market. With a New York address, the company was able to get noticed worldwide as a leader in technology and advancements. He knew that office needed him, but sometimes enough was enough.

After Will and Eliza’s honeymoon was over, the couple had promised to head out to New York and stay there, covering anything necessary and enjoying the bright lights while Charles took a much-needed break back home.

He rubbed the back of his neck and hauled the first suitcase into his bedroom as he flicked on the light. It felt good to be able to say he’d be here longer than a weekend. To get to spend the holidays with family and Jane … His brain sort of stopped right there. He couldn’t think of anything else but her. Why had she acted so weird that night? Was it just him, or did she not seem that eager to see him? Had Eliza and Will broken their promise not to tell her anything until he could explain? He sat down on the bed and stared at nothing in particular for a moment.

He had no one to blame but himself. Sure, he’d wanted to punch Will the second the man confessed he’d been wrong all along and Jane actually liked him—
and
she wasn’t just after his money. But in all honesty,
he
was the one who fell for it. He knew Jane better, knew she was the exact girl he’d always wanted by his side. He was the one who panicked at the first rumor and jumped ship, not Will. He didn’t have to listen to Will’s opinions. That choice was all on Charles.

Why had he panicked? Why ruin a sure thing? Those questions had been haunting him for days now, and the only thing he could think of was that perhaps things were moving too fast and he just wasn’t ready for her. So he was looking for an excuse—anything to stop the scariness of actually finding
the one
and settling down.

Settling down. He took a deep breath and lay back on his pillow. Was he willing to rethink and restart his life? He shook his head and closed his eyes, imagining the loss he’d felt the last several months without Jane. They just clicked. He’d finally found that best friend he wanted to kiss.

Man, he missed those lips. Soft, feminine … and so delightful.

He frowned as the kettle began to whistle. But what did he do wrong at the wedding? And where was he to go from here? What if Jane moved on? He headed toward the kitchen. Wait a minute. Was she dating someone new? Was that why she’d acted differently? His heart dropped before he remembered. No, they had been developing a killer online relationship. There was nothing wrong there. She’d been more than eager to start something new with him.

Shaking his head, he poured the water into the cocoa and stirred. Why were women so difficult, anyway? So lost in his thoughts, he burned his mouth as he sipped, then spilled a bit on the floor as he jerked the mug away. Ugh.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

“Just a second!”

Charles grumbled to himself as he wet a cloth and scooped up the mess. By the time he’d cleaned it up, his grandma was coming in through the door. He could barely make out her face over the large basket in her arms.

“Well, are you going to answer the door or not?” she asked.

He set his mug down, rushed forward, and collected the load from her. “What are you doing here? And what have you brought? You didn’t carry this all the way from your car, did you?”

She rolled her eyes and bustled her way into his dining room. “Of course I did. Why do you young people always think we old folks can’t do a dang thing for ourselves? It’s ridiculous. When my dad was my age, he was still doing construction work!”

Great-grandpa had quit construction work at forty, but Charles didn’t dare disagree.

“Bring it in here. It’s your welcome present from your grammy.”

“You didn’t have to.” Already, the smells coming from inside were making his mouth water. He couldn’t resist a peek under the kitchen towel she had across the top. “No way. You made lemon bars too?”

Grammy grinned and winked. “Only if you’re good.” Then she made a fuss of clearing off his nearly pristine table. “Just set it down so you can open it.” There was no doubt she was just as excited as he was.

“But it’s not Christmas yet!” Charles chuckled at the frown on her face as he set it down where she directed.

“Stop teasing. And hurry up. Some of those things won’t last two days before Christmas. Besides, I figured you wouldn’t have a lick to eat, so I was sure to bring all your favorites.”

He took off the towel and then grinned like a fool.

She didn’t even waste time letting him decide what to pull out. “Okay. So I’ve got you your favorite chili, and I made you some stew.” She set them on the table. “And I’ve got your lemon bars, some muffins, and my rolls that you like so much. Grandpa gotcha some meat and cheese in here somewhere for those rolls. And I’ve got some gravy mixed up in this here Tupperware, and some biscuit mix for you to make your own biscuits one of these mornings. You’re gonna need to put some of this in the fridge. I’ve got some grape juice and tomato juice that I’ve canned. And some of your favorite whole wheat bread with the honey butter. Oh! And Grandpa made you a whole bag of candy popcorn balls!”

“Wow!” It really was the best gift she could’ve ever given him. And there was no way he could properly repay this adorable burst of energy in his kitchen. So he leaned down and gave her a big hug and kissed those rosy cheeks. “Thank you, Grammy. You’re the best!”

She chuckled and pushed him away, but that smile did wonders for his soul. “I’m just happy you’re back for a while.” Waggling her brows, she leaned in closer. “So, is it true? You gonna finally win over the other Bennet girl?”

There were no secrets ever in his family. Ever. Charles buried a sigh. “Can I get you some herbal tea or hot chocolate?”

“Will you tell me your plans?” Her eyes were twinkling.

All at once, he wondered if his mother and sisters had set Grammy up to pry information out of him. He was about to say no, but then again, maybe she could help. “Actually, I was hoping to talk to you about that.”

“Really?”

He could’ve sworn he heard a muffled giggle come out of her.

“I’ll take whatever herbal tea you’ve got. Let’s sit in the living room, and you can tell me all about it.”

Charles shook his head at her giddiness and pulled out the old tea box his mom had given him years ago. He never drank tea, but he always felt guilty for wanting to throw it away, so there it sat in his cupboard, waiting for gossipy old women to come along. “Raspberry?”

“Perfect. I’ll wait in the other room.”

He smiled wryly as he poured some hot water into the other mug and then joined her on the couch with his still-warm cocoa. They chatted for a bit about this and that, and then she nailed him.

“So, Chazz, tell me what’s up. What would you like to know?”

Chazz. He grinned. No one had called him that for a long time. He took a deep breath and then sipped his cocoa without scalding himself this time. “Jane seemed off tonight. After I left you guys, I went to talk to her and say hi.”

She nodded and took a sip of her drink, but didn’t say anything.

“And . . . I don’t know . . . Jane seemed different. Well, at first she seemed excited to see me—she even kissed me! But then that changed, and she got all stiff and just walked away. Right when I’d been hoping to really talk and apologize, she just left—said she was busy or something. It was weird.”

Grammy looked at him and then asked, “Did she say anything? Ask how you were, you know, anything like that? Or did she just walk up and kiss you?”

He shrugged. “She asked normal things, like how long had I been there. And I explained why I hadn’t sat next to her during dinner.”

She fidgeted and nearly spilled her tea. “You were her dinner partner?”

“Um, yeah. Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You left her alone the whole time, and didn’t say hi until during the toasts? She didn’t know you had arrived yet?”

“Well, no. Is that a big deal or something?”

“Charles Fredrick Bingley! You are as absolutely clueless as your grandfather!”

“So her attitude is my fault? What did I do wrong?”

Grammy placed her mug on the coffee table in front of them and then put her hands dramatically on her face. “You need some help. You need some
real
help. Thank the good Lord I came today because this relationship would’ve been over before it had a chance.”

He was way out of his depth here. “What?”

She leaned over and patted his knee. “What have you gotten her for Christmas?”

“Uh, a New York snow globe and warm blanket. Why? Is that bad too?”

She shook her head in a disbelieving manner. “Toss them both out. We’re starting from scratch.”

From scratch? “What do you have in mind?”

“Christmas. All twelve days of them.”

“Twelve days?” What in the world was she talking about?

“Yes! And this time you’re going to do things right!”

CHAPTER THREE

A Partridge in a Pear Tree

Jane got up from the couch and then sat down upon the matching striped gray chair in her apartment’s living room. She sighed and crossed her legs. A few moments later, she unfolded them and stood up again.

Christmas Day. It had been two days since the wedding. Two. And she still hadn’t heard from Charles. Her heart was too agitated to focus on anything. She was antsy. She was bored. She was nervous and frustrated and anxiety-ridden.

She should probably go shopping or something, but it was Christmas, and everything was closed. Pacing on her small white-and-turquoise rug, she debated what to do. She’d already been to her parents’ house for Christmas gifts. She was supposed to stay longer, but honestly couldn’t bear the happy chatter another moment, so she feigned a headache and went home. Now would’ve been the perfect time to call Eliza and moan, but no way was she going to interrupt her sister on her honeymoon. In fact, she doubted she’d ever be able to really interrupt her again.

Jane walked into the bedroom and picked up a book before setting it back down again. No. There was no way she could concentrate well enough to read, either. She saw her coat flung on the bed. A walk. Maybe that would work. She tossed it over her shoulders and grabbed a bright red-and-white striped scarf. She had to do something. Anything to take her mind off the fact that Charles was in town and they were supposed to spend the holidays together, and now it looked like she might have blown it.

Not that she should care. No girl deserves that kind of anxiety. But really, was he going to stop by or not? Why hadn’t he texted or anything since she left him standing there? She took a deep breath, wrapped the scarf around her neck, and headed out the door.

She almost slipped on the ice, she was moving so fast, but her hand caught the railing just as her boots started to skid. Taking it a bit slower, she headed down the steps of the two-story building to the parking lot and then turned toward the park. The complex was only a couple of years old, and in a nice part of town.

Jane waved to a few neighbors as they were making their way into the complex. She would have jogged slightly to avoid having to make small talk, but the ground was icy. Instead, she kept her head lowered and walked the two hundred yards or so to the snow-filled park. There was a path that still hadn’t been shoveled because of the holiday, with only a few smatterings of footprints and paw prints. She trudged through the soft fluff.

After about thirty minutes of breathing in clean, quiet air, she felt her mind might be settled enough to head back in. That, and her toes were beginning to go numb.

As she stomped her way back up the apartment stairs—attempting to get as much snow off as possible—she failed to notice the lone figure waiting at her door until she almost ran into him.

“Hi.” Charles grinned and took a step toward her.

One word, and her heart calmed and her breathing went back to normal. He came. “Merry Christmas.” Why did she feel like crying all of a sudden? She had no idea how much she’d missed that smile until she worried she’d never see it again.

“Merry Christmas to you too.” He pointed down. “I brought you something.”

There by his feet stood a miniature tree. “A plant?”

He bent down and picked it up. “Not just any plant. It’s a pear tree. And it’s also the reason I’m late. Apparently not many greenhouses around here carry pear trees this far into the season.”

Charles went looking specifically for a pear tree? “Aren’t the greenhouses all closed this time of year?”

He nodded. “Pretty much.”

She didn’t know quite what to say. “Well, thank you. It’s . . . it’s fun.” Who wouldn’t want their own miniature pear tree in December? The important thing was that he was here and trying. And sort of totally adorable.

His grin grew. “Do you really like it? I had to go to Vegas to get it, and I wasn’t sure what your reaction would be. Because, you know, it’s a fruit tree for Christmas. Well, for part of your Christmas. You’re going to get a few more things from me.”