Bennet, Pride Before the Fall (Love Austen 3)

“Let’s make their day.”

“I hardly think—”

Lyon tugged him by the sleeve and marched them across the crowded, jolly pub. Colorful Christmas decorations were strung overhead, and the patio doors were wide open. The scent of barbecued meats and overly toasted buns smoked the air.

Will jerked in surprise and paled at Bennet’s approach. William smiled but held himself stiffly as Lyon immediately engaged him in conversation. It was the first time Bennet had seen Lyon’s crush up close, and his stomach was all over the place about it.

The guy had to be close to twenty. Not twice that, which was a relief considering some of the things Lyon had said, but he was still a good few years older. He could drink, drive, vote. He probably wasn’t the type of guy to be happy just kissing.

On the other hand he didn’t seem especially receptive, standing there nursing his beer. Almost as if he only answered out of cowardice, unwilling to deal with the fallout of letting Lyon down.

Was this the way they always behaved? Perhaps Lyon had misread him from the start and their few dates had just been friendly outings. Something that was now getting awkward?

Or was William only so stiff because Bennet was there? God, he hoped the former.

Lyon might kill Bennet if he knew his thoughts. But he couldn’t help it. Lyon was his to protect.

“I’m sorry,” William said suddenly, checking his phone. “I have to make a call home. They’re expecting me.”

Lyon’s expression shattered with disappointment, and immediately Bennet wished William liked him back.

The fickle feelings of a guardian.

Bennet gave Lyon cash to grab drinks and, alone, finally faced Will.

Will took one look at him and ran a hand through his silver hair. “Right. Yeah. I never contacted.”

“To be fair, contact goes both ways.”

“True.”

“I wasn’t sure you were still in town.”

“Still here for a while longer.”

“So I take it what we had was a one-off thing?”

“I’m sorry. I keep trying to date but it never works.” Will looked genuinely regretful. “Thing is, I’m madly in love with someone else.”

Surprise was brief. Nothing more than a small hop in his belly.

Will stared into his foamy beer. “I can’t commit to anyone while there’s a possibility he might . . .”

“Is he closeted?”

“Yes. So deep, he’s in Narnia. He barely admits it to himself. But I know he will figure it out, one day. We’ll find one another.” Will gave him a tormented smile.

No anger, no sadness, no . . . nothing. Bennet laughed. “Don’t look at me like you’ve done something wrong. You don’t owe me anything. Thanks for being candid.”

Will sighed. “I did want it to work in the moment.”

“I believe you.”

“I guess sometimes the only thing to do is follow your heart.”

A note of desperation shaded his voice, and Bennet felt a stir of sympathy. “I hope you get what you’re waiting for. But whoever you end up with, I hope they’re proud to be with you.”

“I think I could live with them not being publicly proud, as long as I knew at heart they were mine. That sacrifice is a kind of love too, isn’t it?”

Bennet grimaced.

“You don’t agree with me?”

“I would find that . . . difficult.”

“If he’s the right one, trust me, you won’t mind.”

“How can a man love someone else if he doesn’t first love himself?”

A loud crash and a louder laugh interrupted them. They turned toward the patio. Will’s friend Denny, obviously drunk, stumbled at the center of the ruckus.

Will rushed to scoop Denny up and support him out of the pub. Bennet smiled softly. For a fleeting second, Bennet thought perhaps Will was right.

There was love in that kind of sacrifice.

But could there be love in this kind of sacrifice?

Perched at the bar, Bennet stared at Charlie, still lost how to respond. “You’re thinking of moving to Port Ratapu? To live with Olivia? You’ve known her three weeks.”

“Enough to know we’d parent well together. Port Ratapu makes more sense for settling. She owns a home—I can rent mine out—there are great doctors there, the hospital, excellent schools. I should have no trouble finding work. Might even open up my own café.”

“Café.”

“Better hours for raising kids.”

Bennet rubbed his eyes. “So you’re doing this? Children, with her?”

“Yes.”

“What if one of you meets someone?”

“We’ve considered the possibility. In the event either of us finds someone serious, we’d do week about. As long as we provide a caring, loving environment—and we would remain friends—we think it could work well.”

“I just . . . I don’t . . .”

“I’m heading up the day after tomorrow and staying over New Year’s Day. I—we—thought you and Lyon might like to come. See for yourselves how it could be. We want our friends to support us.”

Bennet bit back his feelings on the subject, finished his drink and smiled at his friend. “I’d love to come with you.”