Backstage Romance: An Austen-Inspired Romantic Comedy Box Set Gigi Blume (fantasy books to read .txt) 📖

me: how I’d hung my head out the window and puked gloriously into the night. I was mortified. Jaxson shouldn’t have to clean up my mess.

“I’m sorry.” I figured it was a more appropriate greeting than good morning in this circumstance. He smiled brightly and shut off the hose with a sunny cheerfulness. There was a bounce to his step as if cleaning up my unmentionable body fluids was the perfect start to his Sunday morning. Forget yoga on the beach or golf; let’s hose Emma’s barf into the bushes for fun. He might have even been whistling while he was at it.

His gaze raked over me and took me in, pinning me to the threshold of his front door. There was an easy possessiveness to it, like we were playing house, and I was his little lady. He reached me in a few long strides. A grin played on his features with a secret only he knew. I’d be lying if I said the look he gave me didn’t make my heart gallop in my chest and jump to my throat. His steps didn’t falter when he was within speaking range, in fact he continued toward me until he was mere inches away, backing me up to the door frame without even touching me. He leaned in and rested his hand on the wall next to my head and smelled… smelled… me. I was instantaneously self-conscious of how well I may or may not have cleaned myself up last night. I half-expected him to cringe, or cry ‘Good grief, woman, take a shower!’. But instead, his grin grew exponentially, and he drawled, “Good morning, Emma. Feeling better?”

Gah! I melted into a pool of lava on his Mi Casa Es Tu Casa welcome mat. In my defence, however, the man was in quite a state of undress. He wore what I surmised were his pyjama bottoms and… nothing else. Beads of water from the hose overspray spangled his form from the tips of his hair to his bare feet. My gaze followed a single droplet make its way down his collarbone, over the curve of a very impressive peck, along the ridges and valleys of maddeningly defined abs and then disappear into his waistband. Maybe he shouldn’t have turned off that hose; I needed a splash in the face.

“Um, I don’t mean to alarm you, but someone stole your clothes.”

He laughed, pushing away from the doorframe, eyes dancing as they studied my face. “I didn’t want to wake you. You did take over my room, you know.”

A few moments passed with us just staring at each other; me marvelling at his sculpted physique, Jaxson assessing my sloppy appearance. At length, he inclined his head toward the inside of the house and stepped in. “Coffee?”

“Please.”

Even my breathy response to coffee sounded sultry to my ears.

Please stay here so I can watch more water drip down your skin.

Please put a shirt on.

I followed him into the kitchen and took a seat on a barstool at the centre island.

“I don’t have any milk, I’m afraid.” He placed a steaming mug in front of me. “But I do have croissants.”

It made sense he wouldn’t have a stocked refrigerator; he was only there for the weekend, and he liked his coffee black. I never knew how he could stand it. I sipped with more disappointment than a cup of coffee should bring, but the warm liquid slowly brought life back into my system. The croissant helped.

“There’s a Milton’s Restaurant down the road. We can go for some bagels and lox,” he offered.

“Ugh! No seafood. Ever again. Ever.”

His brows shot to his forehead. “Ever?’

“Ever.”

He took a sip of blackness and regarded me over the rim of his cup.

“Why?”

I made a helpless motion toward his car and back to me, trying not to say the word vomit while we were eating.

“Have you gone vegetarian since yesterday?”

“No.” I gestured to his car again. Didn’t he get it?

“You want to go for a ride?”

“No.” I threw my hands up and huffed, saying the words through closed lips. “The prawns. You know… the prawns you gave me?”

“They didn’t sit well?”

“Really, Jax, I’m surprised you didn’t get sick.”

He shook his head. “It couldn’t be the prawns. If it was food poisoning, it would take longer to take effect. What else did you eat? Think back.”

I tried to remember what I had on Friday. There was the poolside guacamole. Then the girls and I had salads in the hotel restaurant because we didn’t want to pig out in front of Annie who was afraid of getting too bloated to fit in her dress. There were pink snacks and sweets in her room which I didn’t touch. Also…

“The burgers came after you left Friday night. But I only had half.”

In truth, I couldn’t eat more than a bite or two which was so not me. My stomach was too worked up in knots with the way Jaxson flew out of my room. I was embarrassed and sad and angry. Not angry with him. Angry with myself.

“What did you have for brekkie yesterday?”

“A banana.”

“That’s it?”

“And a supplement Mum gave me.”

He gave me a serious look. “What supplement exactly?”

“I don’t know. I can’t read Elvish.”

He sprinted out of the kitchen and returned moments later with my clutch. He didn’t even ask me if it was in there—he just opened it and took out the bottle.

“Is this it?”

I nodded. Jaxson threw my clutch on the counter and opened the bottle taking a sniff at the contents.

“Bleh. This is nasty. You drank this?”

“Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Was the bottle full?” He examined the level of the goopy liquid.

“Yes. It was sealed.”

He pressed his lips together like he was trying to hold back a reprimand and huffed through his nose. Without another word, he strolled to the bin and threw the bottle away, brushing his hands together.

“No more of your mother’s crazy potions, okay?”

“Okay.”

Now I felt even more pathetic. That could be my