The Husband Campaign

by Barbara McMahon

  Frederick spoke to me after church. I didn’t tarry, told him I had to get home to help Mother with the Sunday dinner. I wasn’t rude, I would never display such unmannered behavior, but I kept walking and seemed distracted. It was all I could do to refrain from laughing. He followed me all the way to the walkway of our house. It was the first time he’d paid any attention to me. Maybe Aunt Thomasina was right. I need to let him chase me. The key is to make sure I don’t move faster than he does.

  Kerry laughed softly. How different things were today. If her great-grandmother thought the Twenties were wild, she’d have a conniption in today’s society.

  Then a sudden thought sparked. Jake had come after her when she’d made no effort to seek him out. For a moment Kerry stared off into space, replaying that afternoon’s encounter in her mind. She’d been tired and wanted to put down her packages. She had definitely not been in the mood to linger and chat. Even when he continued talking to her, she’d been walking away. The first time she’d ever done that with Jake.

  And for the first time since she’d known him, he’d pursued. Even calling later to invite her out. She’d said no. That should have ended things, but now she wondered.

  She picked up the journal and reread the passage. Was there a grain of truth in one of Megan’s ingredients for finding a perfect mate? Maybe she’d see what happened if she played hard to get.

  She’d read more of the journal. It would give her something to do—she had nothing else planned over the next few weeks.

  For a moment she wished she could see into the future. Would following Megan’s advice cause a change in the way Jake saw her? She smiled, switched off the light and lay in the dark, planning how to play hard to get with a man who normally acted as if she didn’t exist. Tonight had shown a definite sign he’d noticed her. Would remaining aloof have any effect on how he viewed her in the future?

  What could it hurt? she wondered just before sleep claimed her. Tomorrow she’d put the plan into action and observe the results. It would be a campaign of a kind, similar to her ad campaigns. Nothing was decided with one layout, there were several needed to ascertain if the overall plan had a chance of success. Now how could she test this premise?

  CHAPTER TWO

  Don’t accept an invitation at the last minute. Make sure he thinks you are busy and have to make an extra effort to spend time with him.

  —Megan Madacy’s journal, Spring 1923

  WHEN KERRY AWOKE the next morning, she felt refreshed for the first time in months. Smiling as she dressed, she glanced at the journal resting on the bedside table. How silly she’d been last night. As if following Megan’s recipe would insure a happy marriage with the man of her dreams. She must have been more fatigued than she suspected. To think ignoring Jake would make him interested in her. Ha! She’d been ignoring him for years while she lived in New York. She hadn’t seen any signs he even noticed she was gone.

  When Kerry went down to prepare breakfast, it was already late morning. She couldn’t believe how much sleep her body craved. A direct result of all the long hours she’d put in over the last months, she knew. But for the first time in weeks, she felt rested and ready for anything. Maybe she’d tackle the yard.

  During the day Kerry mowed, trimmed and weeded. Wearing skimpy shorts and a halter top, she added some color to her skin as well while doing the yard work. Shortly before noon she pulled on a light yellow cotton shirt with short sleeves to protect her shoulders. She didn’t want to burn. But it felt good to be doing physical labor in the hot sun. Her mind wandered, skipping on topics, drifting in and out of daydreams.

  By midafternoon, she finished. The lawn looked as if a gardener had taken pains with it. The grass was evenly mowed, edges trimmed. The flower beds had been weeded and deadheaded and now the colorful blossoms flourished. Satisfied with a job well done, she made a pitcher of lemonade and took it into the backyard, pouring herself a large glass. Gratefully, she sank onto a recliner beneath one of the huge old oak trees. The shade felt good. She had yet to shower and get ready to go with Susan and Greg to dinner at the Fibbing Fisherman Café, a local restaurant. But she had time to spare and deserved the break—needed a break after all the work she’d done. It was a good kind of tired, however. Not like what she’d experienced in New York.

  When Jake’s sleek Trans Am pulled into his driveway two minutes later, Kerry went still—suddenly remembering the journal entries and advice written by Great-grandma Megan. Sipping her cool lemonade, she wondered if she dare try to ignore the man. He had not pursued anyone that she knew of since he’d been in college. Would her acting distant pique his interest? More likely it would make him happy to be left alone.

  He climbed out of the car, briefcase in hand. Taking work home on the weekend’s not worth it, she thought cynically. She’d done that for months and her reward had been the loss of her job. Looking away from Jake, she frowned, wishing she’d known before what she’d learned over the last year. She would have enjoyed life more and left the work to those who were now in charge of the company.

  “If you are going to be there for a few minutes, I’ll change and join you,” Jake called when he spotted Kerry.

  She looked at him, her heart skipping a beat. His dark hair looked as if he’d run his fingers through it. The business suit fit as if it had been made exclusively for him and the fine tailoring emphasized his height and enhanced his air of confidence and success. Even at the end of the day, he looked as fresh and sharp as early morning. She wondered if he’d been in court today. If so, she bet every female witness lost her train of thought just looking at him.

  Kerry nodded once, then lay back, studying the puffy clouds drifting by, trying to remember all Megan had written in her journal. She felt flutters of interest. Try as she might, there was no denying she’d once been attracted to Jake Mitchell and probably always would have lingering feelings for him. Saying she wanted nothing further to do with him was a lie. But she would not let herself get caught up in some impossible fantasy that they would fall in love and live happily ever after. She knew better than that.

  But it couldn’t hurt to see how far his new interest would progress. Not that she believed her own lack of response sparked his. He probably felt an obligation to watch out for his neighbors’ guest while they were away.

  Jake crossed the yard ten minutes later, his eyes fixed on the woman lying in the recliner. He’d changed into shorts and a cotton T-shirt. If she planned to sit out in the hot afternoon sun, he wanted to dress as cool as decency allowed. Approaching Kerry, his gaze traced over her. Her bare legs were bent at the knees, the shorts falling back almost to the crease where her thighs joined her hips. Her skin looked supple and silky, her legs curvy and sleek. The shirt she wore appeared grass-stained. Obviously she’d been working in the yard. A glance at the smoothly cut grass and pile of weeds near the shed provided further evidence.

  Her hair was tousled and a hint of pink highlighted her cheeks. She’d matured, yet her expression still displayed a certain innocence that belied the experiences she must have gained living in Manhattan. With color in her cheeks, she looked downright pretty. He’d never noticed how much before.

  When she heard him, she turned and smiled. Jake felt it to his toes. He never hesitated in his stride, but the shock of that flicker of physical awareness surprised him. Had he been too long without a woman? Or was there something different about Kerry?

  “I made lemonade if you want some,” she said casually. “But you need to get your own glass from the kitchen.”

  “Or I can share yours,” Jake said easily, pulling the second lounger close to hers and sitting on the edge. When her eyes widened at his comment, he smiled. He still didn’t know what was going on, but he intended to find out.

  “You’ve had a busy day,” he said, boldly reaching out to take her glass. His fingers touched hers. She yanked back, then tried casually to brush her hair away from her cheek, as if not sure what to do with her hand.

  Ma
ybe she wasn’t as sophisticated as he suspected. Pouring cold lemonade into the glass, he drank. “Good—it’s not too sweet. You make it from scratch?”

  “Yes.” She looked at him, her gaze wary. “So, it’s been a long time. How have you been?”

  He almost laughed. She sounded like a properly brought up little Southern girl.

  “As ever. You, Kerry?”

  “Fine.”

  “Sally said you plan to stay for a while,” he said, refilling the glass and holding it out to her.

  “A few weeks, anyway.”

  When she took the glass, she made sure she didn’t touch him. Interesting. How far could he push her, he wondered, a hint of mischief rising. She’d bedeviled him as a teenager. Maybe it was time to return the favor.

  “Then?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m considering my options.” She took a sip of the cold beverage as if stalling. He’d interviewed enough witnesses to know a stall when he saw it.

  “Thought you went to New York to spread your wings and set the world on fire.” His gaze trailed down her, noticing the softly feminine form hidden beneath the yellow top, her slim waist, her long legs that beckoned for his touch. Was her skin warm from the sun, would it feel as silky beneath his fingers as it looked?

  “I did. But I didn’t realize that I could get my wings singed.”

  “Meaning the job isn’t all it’s cracked up to be?” he asked, his gaze sharp.

  “There isn’t a job at all anymore. There was a takeover.”

  “Tough break.”

  “Are you still the up-and-coming hotshot lawyer in Charlotte?” she asked.

  “I have my practice there.”

  “Ever cautious. You sound like a lawyer. I bet you do extraordinarily well at it.”

  “I keep plugging away. What are you doing for dinner tonight?” he asked abruptly.

  “Going out like I said.”

  “With whom?” It came out more sharply than he intended.

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but Sally.”

  He relaxed marginally. She’d turned down his invitation in favor of dinner with her cousin. He could understand that. After all, they had been close as girls and Kerry had been away for a while. They probably had a lot of catching up to do. “And tomorrow?”

  “What is this, an interrogation? I’m not a witness for anything.”

  “Just curious. You arrived on Wednesday evening. I didn’t know you could make so many arrangements that quickly.”

  “There’re probably one or two things about me you don’t know,” she murmured. “We never were what you’d call close friends, were we? And we haven’t seen each other for years.”

  “Tomorrow night?” he persisted.

  “Don’t you ever give up? I have a date with Carl Penning. We ran into each other at the country club yesterday and he invited me out to talk over old times.”

  Jake frowned and settled back on the chair, one knee raised. He rested a forearm on it as he studied the trees growing in the back of the Porters’ yard. Carl Penning was closer in age to Kerry. They’d played tennis a lot, as he recalled, when she’d come for the summers. He’d played with them one time, an arrogant college kid challenging the two young high-schoolers. They’d whipped the pants off him. Of course two to one had been high odds, ones he hadn’t challenged again.

  “How about Sunday afternoon?” Jake asked. “We could play some tennis.”

  “Maybe.”

  He looked over at her lazily. Her eyes were closed. She balanced the full glass on her stomach, her hands on either side of it. Studying her, he liked what he saw. She wore her brown hair long enough to brush her shoulders. One summer it had been down to her waist. The next year she’d cut it short. He liked this length.

  When her eyes flicked open they stared into his, the warm chocolate color soft and mysterious. Her lashes were gold-tipped. Jake wondered how long it would be before she tried one of her flirtatious blinks he remembered from when she was younger.

  She didn’t blink. And her wide, innocent gaze had him thinking thoughts best left for the dark of night. She was the crazy girl who had driven him wild several summers with her pestering and flirtation. He’d be the crazy one this time if he gave in to the lascivious thoughts that had begun to build.

  “If not tennis, we could drive down by the river, go swimming or something. End up at the country club. They have a nice buffet during the weekend,” he said. He wanted a commitment from her to spend some time with him. The thought surprised him. Normally he didn’t push. If a woman said no, he figured it was her loss.

  Kerry stared at him for another moment, then looked away, shrugging slightly. “I’ll check with Sally, but I think I can fit in an afternoon. I’ll let you know if it doesn’t work out.”

  Jake smiled slowly. It took more perseverance than he’d expected, but he knew she’d say yes eventually.

  “Maybe next weekend?” she asked.

  “What?” The smile left his face. She was stalling for another week?

  “I have plans for this Sunday, but would love to see the river if the following Sunday would work for you.”

  “What do you have going on this Sunday?”

  She smiled, flashing amusement in her dark eyes. “Are you acting in loco parentis for Aunt Peggy this summer? You sound just like she used to when I was fourteen and thought I was all grown up.”

  He shook his head, his eyes narrowing. “Just curiosity.”

  “You need to watch that, Jake. Tell me about your law practice. Still doing courtroom cases?”

  He nodded. “Come by one day. I’m scheduled for court all week.”

  “I went to see you once, years ago.”

  “I remember. You and Sally snuck in the back, and giggled the entire time.”

  “We did not. Giggle, I mean. I thought you were—” She grinned ruefully and shrugged. “I thought you were as good as Perry Mason.” She checked her watch and sat up, sliding her long legs over the edge of her chair, between the two. Jake lowered his own feet to the ground, his knee almost brushing against hers.

  “Going somewhere?” he asked.

  “I have to get ready for tonight,” she said, her eyes watching him warily. He made no move to give her room. He was so close he could feel the heat from her body, could smell the sweet scent that emanated from her skin mingle with that of the fresh cut grass. Rising languidly, he reached down a hand to pull her up, his palm absorbing the feel of her softer one.

  Jake stood several inches taller than Kerry, not so much it would give him a backache to kiss her. Where had that random thought come from? He did his share of dating, but for the most part had to know a woman pretty well before having any interest of that nature.

  “Skip dinner with Sally. Have it with me,” he said, to his own surprise.

  “I can’t do that. I said I’d go to meet Greg.”

  “And that’s important?” He didn’t like the spark of jealousy that flared. “Greg’s just another guy.”

  “Ummm.” She took a breath and glanced to the side, to see if there were room to pass, probably. “Well, I’ll have to see, won’t I? Sally especially wants me to meet him.”

  “You could invite me to join you.” He slid his hand up her arm, his fingertips caressing her silky skin. Was she this soft all over? His fingers brushed against the cuff of her sleeve, slid beneath the cotton.

  “It’s not my dinner invitation,” she said, her voice breathless. Jake felt a certain satisfaction that this odd attraction didn’t appear to be all on his side.

  “If you’re planning to visit for a few weeks, you’ll have plenty of time to meet Greg. Have dinner with me,” he coaxed.

  She swayed, biting down on her lower lip. Jake tracked the action, suddenly wanting to be the one to gently bite that soft flesh, then soothe any sting. His gaze rose to lock with hers.

  “I can’t,” she said.

  He grasped her other arm with his hand and drew her closer still.r />
  “You can do anything you want, Kerry.” Slowly his thumbs traced random patterns against her skin. Her eyes glazed slightly. Her breasts rose and fell swiftly, as her breath caught then released. A few more minutes and she’d capitulate. He knew how to read the signs and she was broadcasting her indecision so clearly a first-year law student could pick up the signals.

  Leaning forward, Jake slowly moved his hands from her arms to her shoulders, then to the delicate column of her neck. Tilting her head back, his thumbs brushed against her jaw. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to feel the warmth beneath his fingers flare into heat, to taste the tempting lips that seemed to be waiting for his touch. He wanted—

  “Are you trying to lead the witness?” she asked breathlessly.

  Jake smiled, liking the sound of her voice. Would it sound this way if he took her to bed? Bemused, breathless? Or would she grow wild and wanton, flaring into passion and sharing her delight?

  “That might be unethical,” he murmured. A scant inch from those tantalizing lips, he covered the distance in an instant. For a moment he felt her surprise, then she relaxed and leaned into him.

  And poured the rest of the ice-cold lemonade down his leg.

  “Damn!” He jerked back, tried to avoid the cold sticky liquid. The edge of the recliner caught him behind his knees and he fell in a sprawl half on, half off, the lounger.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. I forgot I had the glass in my hand. Are you all right?” Kerry set the glass down on the table and stepped closer. “I don’t have any napkins out here. I can run inside and get something.” Trying to hide her amusement, she watched him. Kerry wasn’t sure dumping lemonade on a man was considered hard-to-get, but she’d soon find out. Was that diary bewitching her?

  “Don’t bother.” He rose, slicking some of the lemonade from his leg. His shorts were sopping wet on the left side. His skin felt sticky.

  Kerry stared at Jake, trying to force some sincerity into her voice, “I’m sorry, it was an accident.” A bubble of impishness rose. She tried to keep from smiling and giving herself away. Did he think just because she had a crush on him years ago, she still did?