Driving Miss Darcy: Pemberley For Christmas An Austen-Inspired Romantic Comedy (Backstage Romance Book 3) by Gigi Blume

Author:Gigi Blume [Blume, Gigi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sodasac Press
Published: 2019-12-03T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN - 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.

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