Page 16 of Puck and Prejudice

“Ah, the hockey player. Wait. I thought he was coming around lunchtime.”

“It’s past noon.”

His brows arch. “Oh, dear. Already? I lost track of time. Let me put Cicero back in his stall.”

“Let me do it. You need to change your shirt and wash your face.”

He glances down. “Blimey. You’re right. I can’t meet Jane’s fiancé like this.”

“Go quickly. I’m sure Mom and Lydia can keep him busy while you change.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

I watch Dad walk away, then turn to Cicero. Dad started to groom him, and I decide to finish the job. I’ve met Chad before. It’s okay if I miss part of the awkward introduction to my parents.

“It’s you and me, boy.” I run the brush along his flank, and Cicero nickers.

It doesn’t take long for me to break into a sweat. My bangs are already plastered to my forehead. But the laborious task doesn’t bother me. I get into a rhythm and forget the world for a while.

“There you go. You’re all shiny, like me.” I put the brush down, then pat his muzzle. “But you look better.”

Cicero nickers again, making me smile, until the small hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I turn and find Jackson Darcy standing just outside the stables, watching me with his intense and enigmatic eyes. My stomach dips, and my pulse accelerates. For a second, I believe I’m having a heat-induced hallucination. Why would Jackson be here?

Without a word, he comes closer, and I realize he isn’t a figment of my imagination. I can’t make my tongue work to say anything to him, but I notice everything about the infuriating man. The way his hair has a bit of a wave, and it’s combed to the side. How his square jaw is locked tight—no surprise there. I even pay attention to his clothes, something that’s usually not on my radar. He’s wearing jeans and a polo shirt that stretches across his wide chest. I hate to admit that he looks good.

“That’s a beautiful horse,” he says finally.

“Yes,” I croak. “He’s magnificent.”

Jackson raises a hand but stops before he touches Cicero. “May I?”

“Yes, he won’t bite you.”

“Hello, boy.” Cicero leans into Jackson’s caress. “What’s his name?”

“Cicero. We have two other horses. They’re Argentinian polo ponies, Toledo and Ophelia. My father used to be a professional polo player.”

Ugh. I blabber when I’m nervous. Why is Jackson making me nervous?

His eyes widen. “Really?”

“Yeah. Uh… what are you doing here?”

He turns his attention to Cicero. “Chad asked me to come. He was nervous about meeting your parents.”

“Oh.”

He looks at me again, and for the first time, I feel like he’s seeing me as person, not as a servant he can be rude to. “You sound surprised.”

“I guess I am a little. I didn’t think he’d be apprehensive. I should have known though. Meeting the parents is never easy.”

Jackson stares at me in silence for a couple beats, and I’m trying hard not to squirm under his intense gaze. “No,” he finally replies. “I suppose it isn’t.”

I frown as something dawns on me. “But if he asked you to come for moral support, why are you here at the stables?”

Blush creeps up Jackson’s cheeks, and my jaw drops. I wouldn’t have thought he was capable of getting embarrassed.

“Well, I did walk in with Chad, and we met your mother, but I forgot my phone in the car and went out to get it.”

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