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

It was strange but I couldn’t think of anyone else I’d rather share this with. It was uniquely ours.

Wyatt scanned our surroundings. “So. Little town of Bethlehem. Let’s see if we have to sleep in a stable.”

13

Georgia

It could have been an idyllic scene. A soft flurry of snow cascading onto the red stone-paved street, colonial brick buildings with brightly-lit shop windows and welcoming entryways, old fashioned street lamps, and—did I hear Christmas music piped onto the sidewalks? I wouldn’t be surprised if the buttery aroma of popcorn reached my nose through hidden vents. There I was, strolling along Main Street, Bethlehem with a sweet dog and even sweeter man. It could have been idyllic—if we weren’t completely lost.

“Did we just teleport into Disneyland?” I joked. “Now I want a churro.”

Wyatt grinned. “Another place on my bucket list.”

“It’s so fun during the holidays,” I said with a sigh. “Main Street looks just like this but not as cold. Then there’s the giant turkey legs.”

My stomach growled.

“I heard that.”

I was too tired, grubby, and hungry to be embarrassed. “What do we do now?”

“First, you should report your credit cards stolen.” He handed me his battered phone. “Then call your brother...’Billy’. Or should I call him Will?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I haven’t bored you with a list of names of all my siblings. It’s no big deal.”

“Really?” It was usually a big deal to most people I’d meet. It’s not fun being the sister of Celeb Magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive.

Wyatt cradled my chin, brushing his thumb along my cheek. “Really.”

Gah!

Wyatt took Reeses to do his business while I called my brother. I was relieved it went to voicemail. I left a quick, chirpy message to please report my credit cards stolen, keeping it light.

I’m fine. Just got robbed. No big deal. Ha ha. Bye.

I wasn’t looking forward to his reply. In fact, I didn’t think Wyatt’s battery would last that long. It was at ten percent. Why did the guy not plug it in when I’d suggested it?

I found him a few minutes later chatting it up with an old woman. She was the quintessential grandma. Warm smile, rosy cheeks, and a puff of white curls atop her head. Reeses was all over the attention, licking her face as she cradled him in her arms.

“I had Russell Terriers all my life,” she said scratching Reeses behind the ears. “Jo Jo was such a spitfire. Always getting into things.”

When she noticed me her eyes twinkled and she smiled sweetly. “Hello there. You must be the bride.”

The bride?

Wyatt looked at me like “Just go with it.” So I extended my hand in greeting. “I’m Georgia.”

“Oh, we don’t shake hands around here,” she said, and pulled me into an awkward hug with Reeses between us.

I patted her back. “Oh, okay.”

She handed Reeses over to Wyatt. “I look forward to seeing you two later.”

With a wink and a final dog kiss, she strolled off.

“The bride?”

Wyatt shrugged. “She just kinda assumed.”

“Anyway, we need to plug this in.” I handed back his phone. “It’s almost dead.”

“Oh fiddlesticks.”

Fiddlesticks? This guy.

He winced. “The charger was in my backpack.”

“Oh. Fiddlesticks is right.”

We were officially out of luck. No money, no identification, no phone. Also no change of clothes, no toothbrush, no transportation...the list was laughable.

He frowned at his phone. “Rats.”

I shook my head at him and chuckled at all the absurdities of the last two days. He really was the unluckiest guy I’d ever met. “You should have named your dog Snoopy.”

“Snoopy? Why’s that?”

“Because you, my friend, are Charlie Brown.”

A grin cracked across his beautiful face. “Does that make you the red-haired girl?”

My cheeks burned bright. I tried to cover them with my gloved hands. Changing the subject was also a good tactic.

“Moving on. Who was that lady?”

“Oh, just Reeses’ newest friend. She told me all about her grandkids. I practically know her whole family now. How long were you gone?”

A couple minutes tops.

“She seemed...friendly.”

“She was, in fact. Her grandson plays a shepherd boy in the local church’s Living Nativity. His name is A.J., he’s six years old, and he wants Spiderman underwear for Christmas. Oh, and he likes to cook. He wants to be a chef. Apparently he makes a fantastic banana bread.”

“That’s quite a lot of information.”

He bobbed his head animatedly. “So, you want to go?”

“Go where?”

“To the Living Nativity. Remember that commercial we heard? This must be it.”

“We were pretty far away from here when we heard that commercial. And that car radio didn’t have a very good antenna.”

“Maybe it’s a Christmas miracle.”

Oh, Wyatt and his Christmas miracles.

“It will be a Christmas miracle if they have food at this thing.”

Wyatt set Reeses down and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. His gleeful smile shot right to the feels—his face just inches from mine as he squeezed me. He meant it as a friendly gesture but this close to him my nerves jumped to attention. There was warmth in his orbit. The scent that was all Wyatt crept into my senses and made me a little tipsy. I reeled on my feet.

“You alright?”

Not at all.

“Yeah. Just hungry, I guess.”

With a look of concern, he released me to offer his arm. “I have it on good authority there’ll be the best banana bread in the world and maybe some of Grandma’s homemade fudge.”

“Sounds fancy.” I took his arm. It was so cute, because his chest puffed up with the task of escorting me to the church thing.

He winked and I was done. My belly about flipped over.

“Only the best for Miss Darcy.”

14

Wyatt

Note to self: When asking for directions in a small town, “Just around the corner” actually means “Pass the courthouse, down the street, turn right at Lu Lu’s Bakery, go around some stables, keep going down a back road outside of town, and another half-mile on the left.”

When we arrived at Hope Evangelical Christian Church, even though it wasn’t any further than my usual commute in Manhattan, I