A brief warning signal flashed in the back of Bri’s mind. Abort. Abort. So much for Bri’s plan to save the bakery—she not only wasn’t implementing said plan, but she was hard-core running in the other direction at this point. It was difficult to remember her motivation when he challenged her like this. What was it about Gerard that set her so on edge? Her frustration knew no limits when he goaded her. They had zero compatibility.
Sort of like Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy.
Bri flinched. No. That was totally different.
“I’m sorry. Who are you?” Their book club leader, Julie Thompson, smiled politely as she glanced up at Gerard. She looked unsure if she should offer to pull up a chair or run him off. “I’m Julie.”
“Gerard Fortier. Pleasure.” He nodded briskly, then turned back to Bri before Julie could respond. “Darcy wasn’t a pushover, giving in to the whims of some wishy-washy woman. He was a man who stood his ground and spoke the truth.”
“What? Elizabeth wasn’t wishy-washy. She knew right away what she wanted—who she wanted, for that matter.” A flush crawled up Bri’s neck. He had the story completely wrong. Like he had their town—and the Pastry Puff—completely wrong.
“As for you.” He pivoted toward William, tucking the two books back under his arm. “Darcy wasn’t harsh. He was honest—which, by the way, is a refreshing and rare quality in a man today.”
“You think?” William’s eyebrows shot up so fast, his glasses slipped on his nose. “Honest, huh?” He nodded eagerly. “I can go with that.”
Bri turned away so he wouldn’t see her roll her eyes. Figured. William was definitely more Mr. Collins. He hadn’t stood by a single opinion he’d offered in book club yet.
Gerard ran a hand down the length of his face before peering at Casey in her chair. “I suppose you think these two are right?”
“I actually haven’t read the book.” Casey grinned. “And who needs to now?”
Bri huffed. “Casey!”
“What?” She laughed, twisting back around in the chair so her feet dropped to the floor. “It’s more fun this way. Besides, I’m planning a wedding. I don’t have time for novels.”
“But you have time for book club?” Bri shot her a pointed glance.
Gerard blew out a breath. “At least you’re getting a glimpse of what real marriage is like with these Austen characters.”
Finally, something they could agree on. “Exactly!” Bri reached back into her chair and grabbed her worn copy of Pride and Prejudice. “Romance, longsuffering, passion.”
“Hardly.” Gerard perched on the edge of the seat Bri had vacated. “More like arguing, stubbornness, and selfishness.”
“Oh, I love a good fight scene.” Casey flipped through her stiff new copy. “What page is that on?”
“Pick one. It’s their entire relationship.” Gerard shrugged. “I really don’t see how this novel is a romance, anyway. More like a tragedy.”
“Fascinating point.” Julie leaned forward in her chair with a smile, smoothing her floral-print skirt over her lap. “I have to admit book club rarely gets this animated.”
The rest of the group started chatting excitedly, considering other scenarios and themes. Even Casey joined in.
Bri watched a satisfied smirk slide across Gerard’s face, and her grip tightened on the book in her hand, itching to wind it like a baseball and pitch it at his head. She narrowed her gaze at him, raising her voice to be heard over the chattering din of the club members. “How do you even know what marriage is like, anyway? Have you ever been married?”
The group fell silent at the same moment. Her loud question echoed through the small study nook.
Gerard’s eyes locked with hers. “Almost. Once.”
Bri’s pounding heart tripped in its marathon rhythm, and her stomach flip-flopped. Regret at her brashness immediately flooded her senses, heating her chest and neck in a telltale flush she tried to cover with her hand. Despite wanting to sink into the ground, she absolutely couldn’t walk past one detail. “Almost?”
Gerard slowly stood. “People break engagements every day, Cupcake. Just ask your buddies there.” He gestured to the worn book in her hands. “Not all stories end in happily ever after.”
Then he walked away, leaving the women swooning and William shaking his head in awe. “Wow,” he said as he pushed his glasses up on his nose.
Bri rolled in her lower lip and looked away from his retreating form. Wow, indeed.
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
He hadn’t had a headache this bad—or swallowed back this much regret—since Spring Break 2009.
Gerard pecked aimlessly at his laptop keys. One of the library books lay open next to him on the table he’d wiped down with a napkin that he’d had to dip in his own water glass. Classy.
After tossing and turning all night, nauseated over the words he’d let slip to complete strangers—words he hadn’t even said in front of his coworkers at Trek—he’d decided to shove aside reality and get some work done at the most inconspicuous place he could think of: Taylor’s Sushi Barn, which boasted a full breakfast menu and the “town’s best pizza” on their website.
More importantly, though, was that it was located on the opposite end of Story from the Pastry Puff. He’d drown his sorrows in black coffee and pancake syrup and try not to worry about where in the world Mr. Taylor secured his sushi and why he felt the need to sell it from a barn.
Temples throbbing from lack of sleep, Gerard stared at the words swimming on the computer screen before him. The library books so far hadn’t helped much. Though it could be his fault for lack of focus. Always with the writer’s block in this town.
Why had he blurted that out to Bri? “Almost. Once.” He had hard rules about his personal life—as in, don’t talk about it, at all, under any circumstances. Especially on a job. No one needed to know his business. Peter didn’t even know the whole story about Kelsey, and here he was blabbering on in a library because of what?
