Free PERFECT by Autumn Jordon Page A

she knows no one else in town. But, I
saw you already made a friend.”
    She stuffed her
coat on the peg rack next to Tom’s oversized parka and rubbed the chill from
her arms. “Were you spying on me?”
    “Nuh. I heard the
horn blare and looked out my living window. Imagine what I saw.” His grin
broke. “Oh, right. You don’t have to imagine. You were there. In Dylan’s truck.
In a lip lock.”
    “Oh shut up.”
Darcy unzipped her boots and stepped out of them. Heat flared in her cheeks as
she brushed by him and headed down the hallway. Tom was right on her heels. Her
behavior was too fat a catfish to let go and not throw into the deep fryer.
    “Where are you
going?” His voice boomed in the confines of the hall.
    “I’m frozen. I
need a cup of tea,” she replied over her shoulder. “You want one?”
    “You didn’t look…”
    Just inside the
state-of-art country kitchen, she spun around on her stocking heel and stuck a
finger in Tom’s face. “If you know what’s good for you, you won’t go there.
Target practice was part of my kindergarten curriculum.” She aimed her finger
south of his belt.
    “Can I say I told
you so?”
    Tom was fighting
another grin.
    “No.” She mentally
stamped her foot.
    “Okay.” He stepped
beside her, leaned down and whispered. “But I did.”
    If she didn’t love
the big brute so much, she’d strangle him with her scarf. Instead she wound her
scarf around her own neck.
    Tom had headed
right to the stove and retrieved the tea kettle and Darcy scooted onto one of
the four bar stools situated around the kitchen’s island. “I’ll admit Dylan is
a very handsome guy.”
    “And good company
too.” He smiled over his shoulder as water swished into the kettle from the
tap.
    “Yes. Yes.” She
raised her hands in the air. “He’s great company. I had fun.”
    The striker
clicked and the gas stove flared to life.
    “Imagine that.
Darcy Witherspoon had fun outside of a kitchen.” Tom drew two heavy mugs from a
cupboard and then spooned tea into a tea ball. “I’m glad you had a good time
and I’m glad you met Dylan on your own. I had no idea I how was going to get
the two of you together. I guess fate is alive and doing its job.”
    “Do you really
believe in fate?”
    “I believe some
things happen for a reason. Good things.”
    Tom stood silent,
looking out the window.
    “What is going on
with you? You’re wearing the sappiest look I’ve ever seen,” Darcy said.
    “I’ve been seeing
someone,” Tom replied. “In fact, it’s pretty serious.”
    “You never said a
word.” Darcy scooted forward to the edge of her seat, curling her toes over the
stool’s bottom rung. She knew the delight she felt in her eyes didn’t hold a
candle to the fervor in Tom’s. “Who is this woman who has captured your heart?”
she asked in the most romantic Elizabethan tone she could muster with a
southern accent.
    “Her name is
Allison Moyer.”
    “The librarian?”
    Tom’s eyes
widened. “You’ve met her today?”
    “No. Dylan
mentioned her name when I asked if he ever had a showing for his work. He said
Allison displayed a few in the library.” She propped her elbows on the counter
and settled her chin on her them. “So tell me all about her. How did you meet?
What is she like? I want to know everything. How serious is this relationship?”
    “Very serious.
That’s one of the reasons I wanted you come visit over the holiday— besides
getting you away from your troubles and wanting you to meet Dylan, of course.”
He poured her tea and slid the steaming brew across the granite countertop. “I
want to ask Allison to marry me on Christmas Day.
    Darcy trapped her
hands around the cup. “Oh my, that’s serious. Are you sure?”
    “I’ve never been
surer about anything in my whole life. Will you go shopping with me tonight and
help me decide on a ring? You have such great taste.”
    “I’d be happy to.”
Happiness swelled inside of Darcy and she dashed