Page 6 of It's You
She froze.
That’s when she saw him.
On the edge of the woods, in the shadow of the ancient pines, with his back to her. He was a good bit over six feet and had his hands in his front pockets. He wore a pressed long-sleeved blue dress shirt tucked into the waistband of belted black pants. His dark hair was thick and wavy, peppered with gray, and Darcy’s fingers twitched with the irrational desire to run her fingers through that hair.
Having lived in Carlisle for most of her life, it surprised Darcy that she couldn’t place this man—even without seeing his face—within the families she’d known forever. Was he a late wedding guest? Someone Honoria met at college in Portsmouth? Her heart beat loudly in her chest for no good reason as she gazed out the window, widening her eyes despite the bright light, unable to tear her gaze away from the tall, dark stranger. Wishing she could ignore the insistent feeling that she knew him, that he was significant to her, that he might even be?—
“What’swithyou? Are you okay? You. Are. So. Weird,”Theodora hissed again, standing up with the rest of the bridesmaids, staring down at Darcy’s flushed face.
She looked up at Theodora and stood quickly, bracing her hands on the pew in front of her, holding the bright white wood with a claw-like grip.
“You may kiss the bride.”
The congregation broke into applause as the recessional music played cheerfully.
When Darcy looked back at the edge of the woods, he was gone.
“What do you mean,you think you saw Jack Beauloup? When you went inside?” Willow held her champagne glass at an awkward angle, leaning her head toward Darcy at their assigned table, and speaking in an urgent whisper. “You’ve never seenanyonein there. You know what I think? You and weddings don’t mix.”
“Tell me about it. Honoria was kind enough to remind me of my unmarried state, and Theodora implied we’re a couple.”
“Your family’s thebest.” Willow shook her head, and the little silver feathers hanging from her ears jingled. “Honoria Turner is a rhymes-with-stitch and Theodora Turner is a moron. No. You know what? That’s unfair to morons.”
Darcy was accustomed to the snickers and low-toned gossip surrounding her and Willow. They had been roommates for ten years, sharing the old Victorian house left to Willow by her grandparents. Two adult, unrelated women living as roommates for a decade simply wasn’t acceptable for the simple-minded, straitlaced, New England sensibilities of Carlisle.
“Wait. Are you trying to change the subject? Where did you see him?”
“Through the church window. Standing at the edge of the woods.”
“As far as we know, he hasn’t been in Carlisle for over twenty years. You saw himhere? In Proctor Woods?”
“No, Willow. In the Vienna Woods in Austria. Yes, Proctor Woods! What other woods are there?”
“Are you sure it was him?”
“No. He was tall and dark and had his back to me.”
“His back. You saw hisback. So…you’re basically saying it could have been anyone.”
“I had afeeling. A strong feeling. Of recognition or something…”
“We’re basing this wild assumption on afeeling?”
“And I had justgone inside. I had just heard?—”
“His voice,” Willow supplied. “You arereallylosing it.”
“Maybe.” Darcy took a sip of her champagne and rubbed her eyes. “Maybe you’re right. It’s probably just weddings. Always a bridesmaid.”
“So defeatist, Darce. It’s not like you have one foot in the grave. You’re still young. I mean, someday?—”
Darcy turned to her friend sharply, giving her a warning look, and Willow stopped talking. Willow knew full and well thatsomedaywas just about Darcy’s least favorite word.
Distracting herself, Darcy pulled at the fabric flower that was crushed against her neck, making her itch. “Isn’t there anything I can do with this awful dress? It’s scratching the heck out of my skin.”
She tugged at the stiff taffeta, pulling at the seam until she ripped the odious puffed flower off entirely, and with it, a bit of the already-scant décolletage. Willow gave Darcy’s chest a quick glance.
“Well, well. Carlisle will justlovethat.”
