Page 8 of It's You
Darcy’s heart stopped beating, and her breath caught in her throat as she stood up, slowly, disbelievingly.
It was the man from the edge of the woods.
For the first time in twenty years, Darcy Turner was face-to-face with Jack Beauloup.
3
Darcy stared at Jack like he was a dream or a ghost or an impossibility.
What do you say to the man who was the beautiful boy who kissed you once, twenty years ago, and changed your whole world, consigning you to a lifetime of relentless longing in the space of a single moment? What in the world do you say?
“Darcy Turner.” He breathed her name the same way he had that night.
She nodded vaguely, focused on his face. Her breath came out in a whoosh as she grabbed the back of the chair she had been sitting in.
I think I’m going to faint,she thought, staring into his eyes.
No, you’re not.
Wait! What?
He smiled at her as she wrinkled her brows in confusion.
Had he spoken? Had he just said that out loud?
She darted a glance at Willow, who was chatting with Amory. She’d heard their conversation so clearly, but no one else appeared to.
Looking back at Jack, she found him devouring her face with his gaze, the brown of his eyes glinting with shards of molten copper. Suddenly, he turned away sharply, looking over her shoulder, back into Proctor Woods. He rubbed his jawline between his thumb and forefinger, as if to collect himself, then turned his eyes back to her. They were brown again, all traces of fire gone.
“Let’s sit down,” he suggested. “It’s…it’s been a long time.”
He moved his hand to hers, peeling her fingers from the back of the chair. The heat of his skin was almost unbearable, and she flinched, pulling her hand away, and sitting down as he sat across from her.
Vaguely, she heard Willow mutter something about getting a drink and some answers, but barely noticed as her friend grabbed Amory’s jacket sleeve and pulled him away to the bar.
Darcy swallowed, trying to calm her racing heart. Of all the things she thought might happen today at Honoria Fellows’s bright and sunny spring wedding, seeing Jack Beauloup again had not come close to making the list.
He was a touch taller than he had been at eighteen, maybe six feet four or six feet five, a good half-foot taller than she. His hair was thick and wavy black, but as she had observed watching him from the church, lightly peppered with gray at his temples. His face showed a five o’clock shadow, altogether more gray than a peppering, which gave him an older, more mature, more masculine appearance. Not that he was short on manliness. His chest was massive and looked hard and toned under his simple blue dress shirt. He didn’t wear a tie, and she stared at the open neck of his shirt for a moment, swallowing again, almost hypnotized by his tan skin against the light blue combed cotton.
His eyes were the same brown that she remembered, with little copper flecks that caught the sunlight as he grinned at her, surprise and amusement written all over his beautiful face.
Quit it! You’re checking him out like he works at a strip club,she thought.
He chuckled softly, as though he could read her mind. Her cheeks colored pink, and her ears buzzed with embarrassment.
“You’ve, um…you’ve grown up,” she said.
He nodded slowly, holding her eyes for a long moment before dropping his deliberately, to take his time to look at her too. She could have sworn she saw his fingers twitch as his gaze rested on her neck, where he had pressed his fingers against her pulse in the dusky light of the Carlisle High School backstage curtains. His eyes dropped lower, and his nostrils flared, staring at her chest. The hunger in his face made her feel hot and faint, even though the early afternoon breeze was cool. Suddenly, his lips turned up and his brows furrowed. He was staring with confusion and amusement at the multicolored mess of taffeta sunset exploding below her conservative cardigan. His eyes snapped up to meet hers in question.
“I didn’t choose it!”
His smile exploded into laughter, deep and rumbling, crinkling the tanned edges of his eyes. “Didn’t think so.”
Her face grew stony as she regarded him.
It’s not like you know me,she thought.
I know more than you think.
