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

cards. Mechanics always do. The tension was so high I felt like a contestant on a game show.

After some thought, he finally said, “I’ll help you out.”

Georgia let out a heavy sigh. She’d been holding her breath that whole time. “Thank you so so so so much.”

Al held up a finger.

“I’ll let you two stay the night here in my shop and in the morning I’ll drive you to the bus station.”

“Wait. What?” Georgia cried. “The bus station? Why?”

“Cause I imagine you’ll need another car,” he countered. “And there ain’t no Cheap and Cheerful Car Rental or any car rental in this town. You’ll have to take the bus to the next county.”

Georgia bristled, giving me the side eye like I hadn’t tried hard enough to convince this guy to break the rules.

“Can’t we go right now?” she blurted.

Al did that thing with his jaw—kind of a half-smirk tradesmen do when particularly annoyed.

“Listen. My youngest son has a Christmas pageant in ten minutes. He’s the Star of Bethlehem. He’s real excited. If I’m not there on time, my wife will serve my head with the figgy pudding.” He looked at me just then and gave me a knowing nod. “You’ll understand in about five years, man.”

He shrugged on his winter coat. “There’s water and snacks in the fridge and help yourself to a jar of my wife’s gooseberry jam. It’s real good. See ya in the morning.”

Georgia touched his arm to stop him before he could leave. “Sir. Please.” Sir?

“Where are we supposed to sleep?”

Al inclined his head towards the office. “There’s a couch in the waiting area. I’ll keep the heat on for ya’ll.”

Georgia and I both stared at the door as the mechanic disappeared through it, clicking it shut. The clank echoed from the outer door as he bolted the lock. Georgia turned her death stare at me again. The same one she’d used when the car sank in the lake.

“I hate you.”

“Is this a new development? Or...” I grinned at her. Yeah, she was mad, but there was a playfulness to it. Plus, I loved that incandescent glow in her cheeks when she got all worked up.

She’s engaged, man. Hands off.

“Ya know,” I said in the most chipper way I could. “We’re lucky that guy came by with his tow truck when he did. We could still be out there in that roadside parking lot freezing our butts off. I’d say it’s a Christmas miracle.”

“A Christmas miracle? We’re spending the night in a greasy auto shop instead of a warm bed. How is this a Christmas miracle?” She waved her hand around at all the tools and equipment.

“Um...we’ll have a screwdriver if we need one.”

She rolled her eyes and went off to explore the back of the shop, the offices, and the bathroom. When she came back, the dent between her brows was decidedly more pronounced. “Have you seen that bathroom? The toilet seat is cracked. And the one couch in the office has some questionable stains.” She crossed her arms. “I’m not sleeping here.”

“Okay, okay. We’ll find a motel. But we need to be back here on time to catch a ride to the bus station.” I began a search on my phone. Hotels in... ”What town is this?”

“We don’t need to get a ride with Franz. Just order an Uber.” Things were so easy for this woman in her charmed life. Well I had news for her.

“I don’t think there’s Uber in this tiny town. And his name isn’t Franz.”

I was able to pull up Maps on my phone. According to the GPS, the closest Motel was thirty miles away. Probably where the bus would take us the next morning. I searched for a bus schedule. It was non-existent. Plus it was dark and getting biting cold outside. No way was I going out there. I packed for California weather. And I had a feeling everything closed early in these parts.

Her features hardened. “Surely ‘Not Franz ’ could have directed us to the nearest hotel.” She used finger quotes. “Or maybe there’s an Air B&B close by.”

“It’s Al, and I’m pretty sure this auto shop is the closest we’re going to get to an Air B&B.” I handed her my phone. “Take a look.”

She snatched it from me and started tapping away. Her little tongue peeked out the corner of her mouth when she was concentrating on something. I’d noticed that earlier when she was examining the menu at the diner.

Heaven help me. This was going to be a long night.

7

Wyatt

I decided to do some exploring of my own. There really was a huge crack on the toilet seat—but guys don’t generally mind those things. The stain on the couch was a dark red. It looked like a homicide scene although it was probably only spilled punch or ketchup or something. Al did have small children after all. There was a photo in a picture frame on his desk. A simply dressed slender woman stared back at me with two boys on either side of her. One was about seven. The other couldn’t have been more than five. The little one must have been the son in the Christmas pageant. Both boys had mischievous expressions. But the woman had an easy smile. The sort of look on her face that showed she was in complete control of those two rug rats. And in her arms was a baby bundled in a pink blanket. Something pinged inside me. Al had everything right there in that photo. He was a blessed man.

When I returned to the shop I found Georgia in the driver’s seat of a vintage Mustang. It was in pristine condition—a robin egg blue with white trim. It was gorgeous and was even more perfect with a beautiful woman behind the wheel. Except Georgia’s eyes were puffy like she’d been crying and her adorable little nose was blemished with red splotches. When she noticed me approach her, she sucked in a hearty breath