The Man You'll Marry

by Debbie Macomber

  “I’ll admit that kissing you is a…unique experience,” he confessed.

  “But I’ve been rude.”

  “Actually, more amusing than rude.”

  “But why?” she asked again. “What is it about me that interests you? We’re about as different as two people can get. We’re strangers—strangers with nothing in common.”

  Jordan was frowning, his eyes revealing his own lack of understanding. “I don’t know.”

  “See what I mean?” She spoke as if it were the jury’s final decree. “The whole thing is a farce. You kiss me and…and I feel a certain…feeling.”

  “So do I. And it’s something I can’t explain. But I’ve seen electrical storms that unleash less energy than we did when we kissed.”

  Suddenly Jill found it nearly impossible to breathe. Jordan couldn’t be affected by the wedding dress and its so-called magic—could he? Jill swore the minute she arrived in Seattle she was returning it to Shelly and Mark. She wasn’t taking any chances.

  “You remind me of my father,” Jill said, refusing to meet his eyes. Even talking about Adam Morrison was painful to her. “He was always in a hurry to get somewhere, to meet someone, to make a deal. We took a family vacation when I was ten. My dad, my mom and me. We saw California in one day, Disneyland in an hour. Do you get the picture?” She didn’t wait for a response. “He died of a heart attack when I was fifteen. We were wealthy by a lot of people’s standards, and after his death my mother didn’t have to work. We had no financial worries at all. And yet we would’ve been happier with far less money if it meant my father was still alive.”

  An awkward moment passed. When Jordan didn’t comment, Jill glanced at him. “You don’t have anything to say?”

  “Not really, other than to point out that I’m not your father.”

  “But you’re exactly like him! I recognized it the first minute I saw you.” She leaped to her feet, grabbed her towel and crammed it into her beach bag.

  Jordan reluctantly stood, and while she shook the sand off the blanket and folded it, he loaded their snorkeling gear into the trunk of the car.

  They were both quiet during the drive back to the airport, the silence strained and unnatural. A couple of times, Jill looked in Jordan’s direction. The hardness was back. The tightness in his jaw, the harsh, almost grim expression…

  Jill could well imagine what he’d be like in a board meeting. No wonder he didn’t seem too concerned about the threat of a takeover. He would withstand that, and a whole lot more, in the years to come. But at what price? Power demanded sacrifice; prestige didn’t come cheap. There was a cost, and Jill could only speculate what it would be for Jordan. His health? His happiness?

  She found it intolerable to think about. Words burned in her heart. Words of caution. Words of appeal, but he wouldn’t listen to her any more than her father had heeded her mother’s tearful pleas.

  As the airport came into view, Jill knew she couldn’t let their day end on such an unhappy note. “I did have a wonderful time. Thank you.”

  “Mmm,” he replied, his gaze focused on the road ahead.

  Jill stared at him. “That’s it?”

  “What else do you want me to say?” His voice was crisp and emotionless.

  “Like, I don’t know, that you enjoyed yourself, too.”

  “It was interesting.”

  “Interesting?” Jill repeated.

  They’d had a marvelous adventure! Not only that, he’d actually relaxed. The lines of fatigue around his eyes were gone. She’d bet a month’s wages that this was the first afternoon nap he’d had in years. Possibly decades. It was probably the longest stretch of time he’d been away from a telephone in his adult life.

  And all he’d say was that their day had been “interesting”?

  “What about the kissing?” she demanded. “Was that interesting?”

  “Very.”

  Jill seethed silently. “It was…interesting for me, too.”

  “So you said.”

  Jill tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear. “I was only being honest with you.”

  “I admit it was a fresh approach. Do you generally discuss marriage and children with a man on a first date?”

  Color exploded in her cheeks, and she looked uncomfortably away. “No, but you were different…and it wasn’t an approach.”

  “Excuse me, that’s right, you were being honest.” The cold sarcasm in his voice kept her from even trying to explain.

  They’d almost reached the airport when she spoke again. “Would you do me one small favor?” She nearly choked on the pride she had to swallow.

  “What?”

  “Would you…The next time you see Mr. Howard, would you tell him something for me? Would you tell him I’m sorry?” He’d be disappointed in her, but Jill couldn’t risk her own happiness because a dear man with a romantic heart believed she was Jordan Wilcox’s one chance at finding love.

  Jordan stopped the car abruptly and turned to glare at her. “You want me to apologize to Howard?”

  “Please.”

  “Sorry,” he said without a pause. “You’ll have to do that yourself.”

  Five

  Four days later, Jill stepped off the plane at Sea-Tac Airport in Seattle. Her skin glowed with a golden tan, accentuated by the bold pink flower print of her new sundress. She hadn’t expected anyone to meet her, but was pleasantly surprised to see Shelly and Mark. Shelly waved excitedly when she located Jill in the baggage claim area.

  “Welcome home,” Shelly said as she rushed forward, exuberantly throwing her arms around Jill. “How was Hawaii? My goodness, your tan is gorgeous. You must’ve spent hours in the sun.”

  “Hawaii was wonderful.” A slight exaggeration. She’d hardly slept since Jordan’s departure.

  “Tell me everything,” Shelly insisted, taking Jill’s hands. “I’m dying to find out who you met after we mailed you the wedding dress.”

  “Honey,” Mark chided gently, “give her a chance to breathe.”

  “Are you with someone?” Shelly asked, looking around expectantly. “I mean, you know, you’re not married, are you?”

  “I’m not even close to being married,” Jill informed her friend dryly.

  Mark took charge of the beach bag Jill had brought home with her, stuffed full of souvenirs and everything she couldn’t fit into her suitcase. She removed one of the three leis she was wearing and looped it around Shelly’s neck. “Here, my gift to you.”

  “Oh, Jill, it’s beautiful. Thank you,” Shelly said, fingering the fragrant lei of pink orchids. As they walked toward the appropriate carousel, Shelly slipped her arm through Jill’s. “I can’t wait a second longer. Tell me what happened after the dress arrived. I want to hear every detail.”

  Jill had been dreading this moment, but she hadn’t thought she’d face it quite so soon. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to return the dress.”

  Shelly stared at her as if she hadn’t heard correctly. “Pardon?”

  “I didn’t meet anyone.”

  “You mean to tell me you spent seven days in Hawaii and you didn’t speak to a single man?” Shelly asked incredulously.

  “Not exactly.”

  “Aha! So there was someone.”

  Jill tried not to groan. “Sort of.”

  Shelly smiled, sliding one arm around her husband’s waist. “The plot thickens.”

  “I met him briefly the first day. Actually I don’t think he counts….”

  “Why wouldn’t he count?” Shelly asked.

  “We sat next to each other on the plane, so technically we met before I got the wedding dress. I’m sure he’s not the one.” Jill had decided to play along with her friend’s theory, pretend to take it more seriously than she did. Logical objections, like this mistake in timing, should convince Shelly—but probably wouldn’t.

  “In fact,” she continued, “I’ve been thinking about that dress lately, and I’m convinced you and your aunt Milly are wrong�
��it’s not for me. It never was.”

  “But it fit you. Remember?”

  Jill didn’t need to be reminded. “That was a fluke. I’m sure if I were to try it on now, it wouldn’t.”

  “Then try it on! Prove me wrong.”

  “Here?” Jill laughed.

  “When you get home. Right now, just tell me about this guy you met. You keep trying to avoid the subject.”

  “There’s nothing to tell,” Jill insisted, sorry she’d said anything. She’d tried for the past few days to push every thought of Jordan from her mind, with little success. He’d haunted her remaining time on the islands, refusing to leave her alone. If she did sleep, he invaded her dreams.

  “Start with his name,” Shelly said. “Surely you know his name.”

  “Jordan Wilcox, but—”

  “Jordan Wilcox,” Mark repeated. “He doesn’t happen to be a developer, does he?”

  “He does something along those lines.”

  Mark released a low whistle. “He’s one of the big boys.”

  “Big boys,” Shelly echoed disparagingly. “Be more specific. Do you mean he’s tall?”

  “No.” Mark’s smiling eyes briefly met Jill’s. “Although he is. I mean he’s a well-known corporate giant. I’ve met him a few times. If I understand it correctly, he puts together commercial projects, finds backers for them, works with the designer and the builders, and when the project’s complete, he sells. He’s made millions in the last few years.”

  “He was in Hawaii to put together financial backing for a shopping mall,” Jill explained.

  “Well,” Shelly said, eyeing her closely, “what did you think of him?”

  “What was there to think? I sat next to him on the plane and we stayed in the same hotel, but that was about it.” It was best not to mention the other incidents; Shelly would put far too much stock in a couple of dinners and a day on the beach. Heaven help Jill if Shelly ever found out they’d exchanged a few kisses!

  “I’m sure he’s the one,” Shelly announced gleefully. Her eyes fairly sparkled with delight. “I can feel it. He’s our man.”

  “No, he isn’t,” Jill argued, knowing it was futile, yet compelled to try. “I already told you—I met him before the dress arrived. Besides, we have absolutely nothing in common.”

  “Do Mark and I?” Shelly glanced lovingly at her husband. “And I’m crazy about him.”

  At first, Jill had wondered what Mark, a tax consultant with orderly habits and a closetful of suits, could possibly have in common with her zany, creative, unconventional friend. The answer was simple. Nothing. But that hadn’t stopped them from falling in love. Jill couldn’t be in the same room with them without sensing the powerful attraction they felt for each other.

  However, there was little similarity between Shelly’s marriage to Mark and Jill’s relationship with Jordan. What she’d learned from her father’s life—and death—was the value of balance. Although her career mattered to her, it didn’t define her life or occupy every minute of her time.

  “In this case I think Jill might be right,” Mark said, his voice thoughtful.

  “He’s the one,” Shelly said for the second time.

  “I’ve met him,” Mark went on to say. “He’s cold and unemotional. If he does have a heart, it was frozen a long time ago.”

  “So?” Ever optimistic, Shelly refused to listen. “Jill’s perfect for him, then. She’s warm and gentle and caring.”

  At the moment Jill didn’t feel any of those things. Listening to Mark describe Jordan, she had to fight the urge to defend him, to tell them what Andrew Howard had told her. Yes, Jordan was everything Mark said, but there was another side to him, one Jill had briefly encountered. One that was so appealing it had frightened her into running away, which was exactly what she’d done that day on the beach. He’d kissed her and she’d known immediately, intuitively, that she’d never be the same. But knowing it didn’t alter her resolve. She couldn’t love him because the price would be too high. He would give her all the things she craved, but eventually she’d end up like her mother, lonely and bitter.

  “I just can’t imagine Jordan Wilcox married,” Mark concluded.

  “I can,” Shelly interrupted with unflinching enthusiasm. “To Jill.”

  “Shelly,” Mark said, grinning indulgently, “listen to reason.”

  “When has falling in love ever been reasonable?” She fired the question at her husband, who merely shrugged, then turned back to Jill. “Did you tell him about Aunt Milly’s wedding dress?”

  “Good heavens, no!”

  “All the better. I’ll bet you really threw the guy for a loop. Was he on this flight?”

  “No, he returned four days ago.”

  “Four days ago?” Shelly asked suspiciously. “There’s something you’re not telling us. Come on, Jill, fess up. You did a whole lot more than sit next to him on the plane. And Mark and I want to know what.”

  “Uh…” Jill was tired from the flight and her resistance was low. Under normal circumstances she would’ve sidestepped the issue. “It isn’t like it sounds,” she said weakly. “We talked, that’s all.”

  “Did you kiss?” The question came out in a soft whisper. “The first time Mark kissed me was when I knew. If you and Jordan kissed, there wouldn’t be any doubt in your mind. You’d know.”

  Sooner or later Shelly would worm it out of her. By telling the truth now, Jill thought she might be able to avoid a lengthy inquisition later. “All right, fine. We did kiss. A couple of times.”

  Even Mark seemed surprised by that.

  “See?” Shelly cried triumphantly. “And what happened?”

  Jill heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Nothing. I want to return the wedding dress.”

  “Sorry,” Shelly said, her eyes flashing with excitement, “it’s nonreturnable.”

  “I don’t plan on ever seeing him again,” Jill said adamantly. She’d more or less told Jordan that, too. He was in full agreement; he wanted nothing to do with her, either. “I insist you take back the wedding dress,” Jill said. Shelly and Mark’s eyes met. Slowly they smiled, as if sharing a private joke.

  But in Jill’s opinion, there was nothing to smile about.

  The first person Jill called when she got home was her mother. Their conversation was friendly, and she was relieved to find Elaine less vague and self-absorbed than she’d been recently. Jill told a few anecdotes, described the island and the hotel, but avoided telling her mother about Jordan.

  She was strangely reluctant to call Ralph, even though she knew he was waiting to hear from her. He was terribly nice, but unfortunately she found him…a bit dull. She put off calling; two days later, he called her, leaving a message.

  They’d kissed a few times, and the kisses were pleasant enough, but for her there wasn’t any spark. When Jordan took her in his arms it felt like a forest fire compared to the placid warmth she experienced with Ralph.

  Jordan. Forgetting him hadn’t become any easier. Jill had assumed that once she was home, surrounded by everything that was familiar and comfortable, she’d be able to put their brief interlude behind her.

  It hadn’t happened.

  Wednesday afternoon, Jill returned home from work, put water on for tea and began reading the paper. Normally she didn’t glance at the financial section. She wasn’t sure why she did now. Skimming the headlines, she idly folded back the page—and saw Jordan’s name. It seemed to leap out at her.

  Jill’s heart slowed, then vaulted into action as she read the article. He’d done it. The paper was reporting Jordan’s latest coup. His company had reached an agreement with a land-management outfit in Hawaii, and construction on the shopping mall would begin within the next three months.

  He must be pleased. Although he hadn’t said much, Jill knew Jordan had wanted this project to fly. A hundred questions bombarded her. Had he heard from Andrew Howard? Had the older man joined forces with Jordan, after all? Had he asked Jordan about her, and if so, what
had Jordan told him?

  Jill had thought of writing Mr. Howard a note, but she didn’t have his address. She didn’t have Jordan’s, either; however, it was a simple matter of checking the Internet for his company’s address.

  Before she could determine the wisdom of her actions, she scribbled a few lines of congratulation, addressed the envelope, and the next morning, mailed the card. She had no idea if it would even reach him.

  Two days later when Jill came home from work, she noticed a long luxury car parked in front of her apartment building. Other than giving it an inquisitive glance, she didn’t pay any attention. She was shuffling through her purse, searching for her keys, when she heard someone approach from behind.

  She turned her head to see—and nearly dropped her purse. It was Jordan. He looked very much as he had the first time she’d met him. Cynical and hard. Detached and unemotional. His smoky gray eyes scanned her, but there was nothing to indicate that he was glad to see her, or if he’d spared her a moment’s thought since they’d parted. Nothing but cool indifference.

  “Hello, Jill.”

  She was so flustered that the newspaper, which she’d tucked under her arm, fell to the floor. Stooping, she retrieved it, then clutched it against her chest as she straightened. “Jordan.”

  “I got your note.”

  “I—I wanted you to know how happy I was for you.”

  He was staring pointedly at her door.

  “Um, would you like to come inside?” she asked, unlatching the door with fumbling fingers. “I’ll make some tea if you like. Or coffee…” She hadn’t expected this, nor was she emotionally prepared for seeing him. She’d figured he’d read the card and then drop it in his wastebasket.

  “Tea sounds fine.”

  “I’ll just be a minute,” she said as she hurried into the kitchen. Her heart was rampaging, pounding against her ribs. “Make yourself at home,” she called out, holding the teakettle under the faucet.

  “You have a nice place,” he said, standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room.

  “Thank you. I’ve lived here for three years.” She didn’t know why she’d told him that. It didn’t matter to him how long she’d lived there.