“That’s…”So thoughtful.I don’t even know what to say, and my throat feels like it’s lodged with dough. “…good,” I choke out.
“Yeah? You sure?”
“Mm-hmm.” I glance up at him. “Thanks for coming.”
My word, he’s so good looking. Good looking and thoughtful. A lethal combination. I want to bull rush him, curl up in his arms, and ask him to hold me forever.
But I can’t do that. I’ve got a book discussion to lead.
I curse. Becauseof courseAnton is here—on the night we’re discussing a Christmas romance. And not any Christmas romance. A royal one.
“What’s that?” Anton says on a chuckle. “Everything okay?”
“Oh yeah. Fine. It’s…nothing. I just said, ‘Shi-ouldn’t be long now.’”
His eyes are dancing the Macarena. “Shi-ouldn’t be long now before what?”
“Before we get started. Come on in.” I swallow and lead him toward the group.
I can do this. What’s a little romantic book discussion between exes?
When one of them is an inch away from not wanting to be exes anymore?
With an audience of my sisters and my boss and half the town?
Piece of freaking cake.
“What I want to know,” Mia says, “is how she found her way back through the palace in time when she was trying to stop Prince Augustine from marrying that other woman.”
“My heart was pounding through that entire section.” Willow Dunlap sits forward in her chair. “Like, was she going to make it? She had to make it, right? But boy did the author have me hooked, waiting to see how.”
“I love that he was interrupting his own wedding before she had a chance to have her speak-now moment.” Abner rubs his chin, and his wife nods.
Next to him, she adds, “If it would have only been Gianna giving her declaration of love, I wouldn’t have bought in. I needed to see both characters choose each other. I love how it played out.”
“And that kiss.” Mia fans herself. “Worth the wait.”
“Amen, sister.” Bev holds up her mug in salute, and there’s a general murmur of agreement.
I smile to myself. I don’t know what I was worried about. Our discussion ofA Royal Christmas Weddinghas gone off without a hitch. Just like every book club, I’m tickled with the conversation, and I already want to read the book again to see if I agree with Abner about the foreshadowing the author laid down about the next book in the series.
“Anton, since you’re here,” Poppy pipes up from her seat on a stool near the stacks, “care to give us any insight into royal life? Did the author misconstrue anything?”
I hold my breath as every eye in the room turns and lasers in on Anton.
He takes this in stride, the only sign of any slight discomfort at the attention is the hint of pink that graces the tops of his cheek bones. He unfolds the leg he had draped over his opposite knee and sits back in his chair. I’m waiting for him to say he hasn’t read the book, so he can’t comment, but then he shocks mewhen he nods.
“I’d say the way Prince Augustine is described as being torn between his responsibility to the crown and the feelings of his heart is very accurate.”
My own heart pinches. He’s speaking from experience. I want to pull him into a hug, and stroke his hair, and protect him from the feeling of being pulled in two.
“But,” Anton goes on, “there are obviously some stereotypes employed here. At least in Penwick, we don’t eat the same breakfast every day. Though admittedly, Prince Augustine getting sick of hardboiled eggs made for some serious humor, didn’t it?”
The whole group titters, and I think I might combust. If I thought Anton was attractive before, hearing him discuss a romance novel has taken him to the next level.
“And we aren’t required to wear formal wear to dinner every night—though my mother would probably prefer that. I’m afraid she thinks I’m positively uncouth with my sportswear.”
The circle chuckles again.
