The Manning Grooms

by Debbie Macomber

  “You get hungry after sex,” she whispered.

  “I didn’t eat on the plane, and yes,” he said, grinning shyly at her, “I suspect you’re right.”

  She yawned and sat on the bar stool. “Anything interesting in there?”

  “Leftover chicken, cottage cheese three weeks past its expiration date, Swiss cheese and an orange.”

  “I’ll take the orange.” She yawned again.

  “Have you been getting enough sleep?” He peeled the orange and handed it to her, frowning. It wasn’t his imagination; she was pale.

  “More than ever. I seem to be exhausted lately. All I do is work and sleep.”

  “Have you seen a doctor?”

  “No. I’m fine,” she said, forcing a smile. She didn’t want to waste their precious time together discussing her sleeping patterns. She ate a section of the rather dry orange. “I better shower and get dressed.”

  “For the show?”

  She nodded, sad that part of her weekend with James would be spent on the job, but there was no help for it. It was difficult enough to trade schedules in order to fly up to Seattle.

  “I’m looking forward to seeing what a talented woman I married.”

  “I hope I don’t disappoint you.”

  “Not possible.” He shook his head solemnly.

  “James,” she said, staring down at the orange. “Do you ever wonder what’s really there between us?”

  He tossed the chicken bone into the garbage. “What do you mean?”

  “Sometimes I’m afraid all we share is a strong physical attraction. Is there more?”

  He swallowed; the question seemed to make him uncomfortable. “What makes you ask that?”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, we can’t keep our hands off each other.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “I think about us making love—a lot. Probably more than I should. You’re a brilliant man. I’m fairly sure you didn’t marry me because I challenge you intellectually.”

  “I married you because I fell in love with you.”

  He made it sound so uncomplicated.

  “I love the way a room lights up when you walk into it,” he said. “When you laugh, I want to laugh, too. I’ve never heard you sing or seen you perform on stage, but there’s music in you, Summer. I sensed it the first night we met.

  “Just being with you makes me want to smile. Not that you’re telling jokes or doing pratfalls or anything—it’s your attitude. When I’m with you, the world’s a better place.”

  Summer felt her throat tighten.

  “Like your father, an attorney or a judge can develop a jaded perspective in life. It’s difficult to trust when the world’s filled with suspicion. It’s difficult to love when you deal with the consequences of hate every day. Perhaps that’s been my problem all along.”

  “Not trusting?”

  “Yes. You came to me without defenses, devastated, vulnerable, broken. I’d been hurt, too, so I knew how you felt because I’d experienced those same emotions. I’d walk through the fires of hell before I’d allow anyone to do that to you again.” He walked over and held out his hand. “It’s more than just words when I say I love you, Summer. It’s my heart, my whole heart.”

  She gripped his hand with both of hers.

  “If you’re afraid our relationship is too much about sexual attraction, then maybe we should put a hold on anything physical for the rest of the weekend. Instead, we’ll concentrate on getting to know each other better.”

  “Do you think it’s possible?” She gave him a knowing look, then leaned forward. The front of her robe gaped open, and Summer watched as he stared at her breasts, then carefully averted his eyes.

  “It’s possible,” he said in a low voice. “Not easy, but possible.”

  “I need to take a shower before I leave for work.” She slipped off the stool and started to walk away. Then she turned, looked over her shoulder and smiled seductively. “Remember what fun we had in the shower, James?”

  James paled. “Summer,” he warned through clenched teeth. “If we’re going to stay out of the bedroom, I’ll need your help.”

  She turned to face him full on. “The shower isn’t in the bedroom.”

  “Go have your shower,” he said stiffly. “I’ll wait for you here.”

  “You’re sure?” She released the sash and let the silk robe fall open.

  He made a sound that could mean various things—but he didn’t make a move. Feeling slightly disappointed, Summer walked slowly into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

  She’d just stepped inside and adjusted the water when the shower door was pulled open.

  Naked, James joined her there. “You know I can’t resist you,” he muttered.

  “Yes,” she said softly. “I can’t resist you, either.”

  Summer and her mother were busy in the kitchen at the Lawton family home. James sat in the living room with his father-in-law, watching a Sunday-morning sports show.

  James didn’t have the heart to tell Hank that he didn’t follow sports all that much. And he sure wasn’t going to admit he found them boring.

  “Helen’s going to be talking to you later,” Hank said, relaxing during a spell of uninterrupted beer commercials. “She’s having trouble getting a decent hall for the wedding reception in April. The church is no problem, mind you, but finding a hall’s become pretty complicated.”

  “Summer said something about the Moose Hall.”

  “That fell through. I’ll let Helen do the explaining.”

  “Does Summer know this?”

  “Not yet. Couldn’t see upsetting her. The girl’s been miserable ever since she got back from Vegas. You want my opinion?” He didn’t wait for a response. “You should take her to Seattle with you now and be done with it. It’s clear to me the two of you belong together.”

  James wished it was that easy.

  “I know, I know,” Hank said, scooting forward to the edge of his chair as some football players ran back onto a muddy field. “She has to fulfill her contract. Never understood where the girl got her singing talent.”

  “She’s fabulous.” Summer’s performance had shocked James. Her singing had moved him deeply and her acting impressed him.

  Hank beamed proudly. “She’s good, isn’t she? I’ll never forget the night I first went to see her perform at Disneyland. It was all I could do not to stand up and yell out, ‘Hey, that’s my little girl up there.’”

  “There’s such power in her voice.”

  “Enough to crack crystal, isn’t it? You’d never suspect it hearing her speak, but the minute she opens her mouth to sing, watch out. I’ve never heard anything like it.”

  James had come away awed by her talent. That she’d willingly walk away from her career to be his wife, willingly take her chances in a new city, humbled him.

  “She could go all the way to the top.”

  Hank nodded. “I think so, too, if she wanted, but that’s the thing. She loves singing, don’t get me wrong, but Summer will be just as happy humming lullabies to her babies as she would be performing in some hit Broadway show.”

  James’s heart clutched at the thought of Summer singing to their children.

  “Helen’s mother used to sing,” Hank said, but his eyes didn’t leave the television screen. He frowned when the sports highlights moved on to tennis. “Ruth didn’t sing professionally, but she was a member of the church choir for years. Talent’s a funny business. Summer was singing from the time she was two. Now, Adam, he sounds like a squeaky door.”

  “Me, too.” All James could hope was that their children inherited their mother’s singing ability.

  “Don’t worry about it. She loves you anyway.”

  James wasn’t quite sure how to respond, but fortunately he didn’t have to, because Helen poked her head in at that moment.

  “Brunch is ready,” she said. “Hank, turn off that blasted TV.”

  “But, Helen—”


  “Hank!”

  “All right, all right.” Reluctantly Hank reached for the TV controller and muted the television. His wife didn’t seem to notice, and Hank sent James a conspiratorial wink. “Compromise,” he whispered. “She won’t even know.”

  James sat next to Summer at the table. “This looks delicious,” he said to Helen. His mother-in-law had obviously gone to a lot of trouble with this brunch. She’d prepared sausages and ham slices and bacon, along with some kind of egg casserole, fresh-baked sweet rolls, coffee and juice.

  Helen waited until they’d all filled their plates before she mentioned the April wedding date. “The reason I wanted to talk to the two of you has to do with the wedding date.” She paused, apparently unsure how to proceed. “I wasn’t too involved with Adam’s wedding when he married Denise. I had no idea we’d need to book the reception hall so far in advance.”

  “But I thought you already had the place,” Summer wailed.

  “Didn’t happen, sweetheart,” Hank said. “Trust me, your mother’s done her best. I can’t tell you how many phone calls she’s made.”

  “If we’re going to have the wedding you deserve,” her mother said pointedly, “it’ll need to be later than April. My goodness, it takes time just to get the invitations printed, and we can’t order them until we have someplace nice for the reception.”

  “How much later?” was James’s question.

  Helen and Hank exchanged looks. “June might work, but September would be best.”

  “September,” Summer cried.

  “September’s out of the question.” With the primary in September, James couldn’t manage time away for a wedding. “If we’re going to wait that long, anyway, then let’s do it after the election in November.” The minute he made the suggestion, James realized he’d said the wrong thing.

  “November.” Summer’s voice sagged with defeat. “So what am I supposed to do between April and November?”

  “Move up to Seattle with James, of course,” Hank said without a qualm.

  “Absolutely not,” Helen protested. “We can’t have our daughter living with James before they’re married.”

  “Helen, for the love of heaven, they’re already married. Remember?”

  “Yes, but no one knows that.”

  “James?”

  Everyone turned to him. “Other than my dad, no one knows I’m married, either.”

  Summer seemed to wilt. “It sounds like what you’re saying is that you don’t want me with you.”

  “No!” James could hear the hurt and disappointment in her voice and wished he knew some way to solve the problem, but he didn’t. “You know that isn’t true.”

  “Why is everything suddenly so complicated?” Summer asked despondently. “It seemed so simple when James and I first decided to do things this way. Now I feel as if we’re trapped.”

  James had the same reaction. “We’ll talk about it and get back to you,” he told his in-laws. Both were content to leave it at that.

  After brunch he and Summer took a walk around her old neighborhood. Their pace was leisurely, and she didn’t say anything for a couple of blocks. She clasped her hands behind her back as if she didn’t want to be close to him just then. He gave her the space she needed, but longed to put his arm around her.

  “I know you’re disappointed, sweetheart. So am I,” he began. “I—”

  “This is what you meant about problems with the April date, isn’t it? The election.”

  “Yes, but…”

  “I feel like excess baggage in your life.”

  “Summer, you are my life.”

  “Oh, James, how did everything get so messed up?”

  “It’s my fault,” he muttered, ramming his fingers through his hair. “I was the one who suggested we go ahead with the wedding right away.”

  “Thank heaven. I’d hate to think how long we’d have to wait if you hadn’t.”

  “I was being purely selfish and only a little practical. I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep from making love to you much longer.”

  “And you’re traditional enough—gentleman enough—to prefer to marry me first,” she suggested softly.

  “Something like that.” She made him sound nobler than he was. He’d married her because he wanted to. Because he couldn’t imagine not marrying her.

  “As you said, the problem is the election. I had no business marrying you when I did. Not when I knew very well what this year would be like.”

  “The campaign?”

  He nodded. “I’ve never been a political person, but it’s a real factor in this kind of situation.”

  “I thought judges were nonpartisan.”

  “They are, but trust me, sweetheart, there’s plenty of politics involved. I want to be elected, Summer, but not enough to put you through this.”

  She was silent again for a long moment. “One question.”

  “Anything.”

  She lowered her head and increased her pace. “Why didn’t you tell anyone we’re married?”

  “I told my campaign manager you and I were engaged.” James hesitated, selecting his words carefully.

  “And?”

  “And he asked me to wait until after the election to go through with the wedding. He had a number of reasons, some valid, others not, but he did say one thing that made sense.”

  “What?”

  “He reminded me that I’m paying him good money for his advice.”

  “I see.” She gave a short laugh that revealed little amusement. “I don’t even know your campaign manager and already I dislike him.”

  “Ralph. Ralph Southworth. He isn’t so bad.”

  “What will we do, James?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you want me to wait until after the election to move to Seattle?”

  “No,” he said vehemently.

  “But you have to consider Ralph’s advice.”

  “Something like that.” They walked past a school yard with a battered chain-link fence. It looked as if every third-grade class for the past twenty years had made it his or her personal goal to climb that fence.

  “I’ve been thinking about this constantly,” James told her. It had weighed down his heart for nearly two weeks, ever since his talk with Ralph. “There are no easy solutions.”

  “We don’t need to decide right now, do we?”

  “No.” Actually James was relieved. At the moment he was more than willing to say the heck with it and move Summer to Seattle in April.

  “Then let’s both give it some thought in the next few weeks.”

  “Good idea.” He placed one arm around her shoulders. “I’ve worked hard for this opportunity to sit on the bench, Summer, but it’s not worth losing you.”

  “Losing me?” She smiled up at him. “You’d have a very hard time getting rid of me, James Wilkens, and don’t you forget it.”

  James chuckled and kissed her lightly. It was a bittersweet kiss, reminding him that in a matter of hours he’d be leaving her again. Only this time he didn’t know exactly when he could be with her again.

  Summer rubbed her face against the side of his. “Not so long ago, I had to practically beg you to kiss me in public.”

  “That was before you had me completely twisted around your little finger.” The changes she’d already wrought in his life astonished him. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but whatever it was I’m grateful.”

  “Your flight leaves in less than five hours.”

  “I know.”

  “I suppose we should go back to the apartment.” She looked up at him and raised her delicate eyebrows. “That’s plenty of time for what I have in mind.”

  “Summer…”

  “Yes, James?” She batted her eyelashes at him. He grinned. She managed to be sexy and funny simultaneously, and he found that completely endearing.

  They made their farewells to her family and were soon on their way back to the apartment. There was time to
make love, he decided, shower and pack. Then he’d be gone again.

  Summer must have been thinking the same thing because she said, “We always seem to be leaving each other.”

  James couldn’t even tell her it wouldn’t be for long. They parked in the lot outside her apartment, but as soon as they were out of the car James knew something wasn’t right. Summer tensed, her gaze on the man climbing out of the car next to theirs.

  “Summer?” James asked.

  “It’s Brett,” she said in a low voice.

  “Brett?” It took James a moment to make the connection. “The Brett?”

  Her nod was almost imperceptible.

  “What’s he want?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Apparently they were about to find out. He was big—football-player size—and tanned. He wore faded cutoff jeans, a tank top and several gold chains around his neck.

  “Hello, Brett,” Summer said stiffly.

  “Summer.” He turned to James. “Who’s this? A friend of your father’s?”

  “This is my husband. Kindly leave. We don’t have anything to say to each other.”

  “Your husband?” Brett laughed mockingly. “You don’t expect me to believe that, do you?”

  “It’s true,” James answered. “Now I suggest you make yourself scarce like the lady asked.”

  Brett planted his muscular hands on lean hips. “Says you and what army? No way am I leaving Summer.”

  “As I recall, you already left her,” James said smoothly, placing himself between Summer and the other man. “I also remember that you got married shortly afterward. And didn’t I hear, just recently, that you and your wife are expecting a baby?”

  “We’re separated.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Unfortunately Summer and I are now married and she’s not interested in starting anything with you.”

  “I don’t believe that,” he muttered stubbornly.

  “Oh, honestly, Brett,” Summer said, not concealing her impatience. “Are you such an egotist you actually think I’d want you back?”

  “You love me.”

  “Loved,” she said. “Past tense.”

  “Don’t give me any bull about you and granddaddy here.”

  “Granddaddy?” she snapped. “James is ten times the man you’ll ever be.” She pushed in front of James and glared at her former fiancé. “You know what? Every day of my life I thank God we ended our engagement—otherwise I’d never have met James. He’s taught me what loving someone really means. Which is something you don’t have a clue about.”