Cloudy with a Chance of Marriage

hip and stared him down with her violet-blue pansy eyes.

Good God, he could get lost in those eyes. But at the exact moment he had that delicious feeling, her pupils sharpened dangerously, and he looked away.

First.

What was the world coming to when he looked away first? And from a female other than his own mother? It had never happened before.

And damned if it would ever happen again.

He looked back at her, intending to impress her with his best fierce expression, but it was too late. As if his lowered brows and steely-eyed glare meant nothing, she was already on to putting another hand on her hip and opening her mouth to deliver a big speech.

He knew it would be a big speech. Women always nagged men with big speeches.

So he retreated to his own little world, a world that consisted of her breasts, straining against her laces, her pale, delicate neck and the creamy expanse of her shoulders, and the plate of bacon, which still had two slices on it.

“Captain,” she said. “You’re to partner with me in conducting a street fair.”

And then there was dead silence.

Whatever happened to the big speech?

He returned his gaze to her face. “I’m afraid that’s impossible.” He could hardly take the remaining bacon now, a fact which set his jaw on edge.

Miss Jones blinked several times. “You must.” She began to pace in a small, tight circle. “We have no choice but to try.”

“Why?”

She turned to face him. “To make money to pay the overdue leases.”

Otis pushed himself up from the table and took his bell with him. “Now we’ve got that out of the way, I’m going outside to call the neighbors over.”

And then he scampered down the stairs.

Stephen pushed his chair back. “I’m leaving. Thank you for the toast and bacon.”

“Captain.” Miss Jones stood in front of him, her chin in the air. “I did you a favor, now it’s your turn to return it.”

Stephen looked down at her. “People don’t conduct street fairs in London anymore.”

Miss Jones bit her lip. “But they used to have a street fair here on Dreare Street.”

“Used to. They don’t anymore.”

She looked so bereft, he felt almost regretful about bursting her bubble. “I know many of us have money woes,” he said. “But a street fair won’t cure them. You’ve no idea how much is involved in conducting one. It’s a major undertaking. And I, for one, don’t have time to make it happen. I have a house to repair.”

He turned to go.

“You have to help me,” she blurted out. “You made a promise when I agreed to allow you to pursue me.”

He turned back around. A few beats of tortured silence went by. What could he say, other than that she was right?

“You’re right,” he said. “I am pursuing you.” He lifted her chin and had a brilliant thought. A morning kiss would be a nice thing to have, especially one from Miss Jones.

“No, Captain,” she said, her face flushing pink. “You’re not really. It’s all a ruse.”

“That kiss on the roof was no ruse.”

“Yes, well, that was a mistake.” She blinked several times.

“Was it?”

Her lips parted prettily. She wanted to kiss him, too. He saw it in her eyes.

Out the window, they both heard the bell ring and Otis cry, “Urgent meeting at Hodgepodge regarding the overdue leases! Commencing immediately!”

And sadly, Miss Jones took a step back. “We need to focus on my plan. Trust me, Captain. It will work.”

The empty space she’d left near him—and that ringing bell—irritated him enough so that all his good humor vanished. “Why should I trust your judgment over my own?” he demanded to know.

It was a ludicrous idea—especially when a man needed a kiss.

Miss Jones looked at him steadily. “Because I found that diary and got the idea for the street fair from it. It was meant to be. It was … good luck.”

“I don’t believe in luck.” And he didn’t.

“Nor did I,” she replied, “but I’ve realized something recently.” Now she grew agitated but in a delicious way—all breathy and warm and appealing. “We resort to luck when we worry that someone or something else is going to snatch the future we crave away from us. That’s why I believe in luck now, Captain. I’m desperate. And I suspect you are, as well.”

“I’m not desperate, Miss Jones.”

Other than being desperate for her.

“Aren’t you?” She was impertinent, asking him such a question with a daring little arch to her brow.

Of course, she’d no idea how provocative her statement was.

He thought of other ways—other than longing for her—in which he could be desperate. The idea of sitting on Dreare Street while his house crumbled around him came to mind. And of all the money he didn’t have yet that he’d have to spend to fix it. And the days, weeks, months, and perhaps years it would take to sell it afterward.

It was a dismal prospect.

Very dismal.

“I … I might be a little bit desperate,” he admitted. “But not enough to take orders from anyone.”

She cracked a smile. “We’ll see about that. Come on!” She beckoned him with a hand.

“I’m only going to stay and listen because we both made an agreement,” he told her in his firmest manner, the one he’d always used to negotiate the enemy’s surrender. “Together.”

But she either didn’t hear him or ignored him.

She was already running down the stairs and calling Otis’s name.

CHAPTER TEN

Jilly expected to see some neighbors appear at Hodgepodge after Otis performed his duties as the street crier, but she wasn’t prepared to see so many of them arrive that the bookstore was crammed to overflowing within minutes.

Otis reappeared with his bell at the front door, positively beaming.

The crowd, Jilly noted right away, seemed nervous. Everyone stood looking at each other warily. A very few conversed in low tones, but most people acted as if they didn’t know each other and rather regretted coming.

Jilly went to Otis.

“Well done,” she told him, refusing to give in to nerves. She squeezed his hand. “Please leave the door open. Anyone else who arrives will have to listen from there.”

His cheeks were bright red with excitement. “It was remarkable. I barely began ringing the bell and speaking when people started pouring out of their houses. It was almost as if they had been waiting for the announcement. As if they knew something must be done to help Dreare Street. Of course, no one could see where they were going through the fog—it’s particularly thick today—but I kept ringing the bell, and they found us.”

Jilly was just as excited. “I’m going to do my very best to bring us together.”

“You will,” Otis said. “I’m sure of it.”

She turned back to the crowd and gently eased her way through before stopping at the counter. It was time to address Dreare Street. She would need to lead her neighbors into a major resolution. It would require that she be bold and convincing.

But no matter how tall she stood, she still couldn’t be seen by some people near the shop windows.