“Here, use this.”
The male voice coming from behind her surprised Joanna so much that when she twisted around, she lost her footing and slid down into a puddle of the coldest water she’d ever felt.
“Tanner!” she cried, leaping to her feet. “What are you doing here?”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Dumbfounded, Joanna stared at Tanner, her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide.
“I got this frantic phone call from Kristen.”
“Kristen?”
“The one and only. She suggested I hurry over here before something drastic happened.” Tanner took one step toward her and lovingly brushed a wet tendril away from her face. “How’s it going, Tugboat Annie?”
“A pipe under the sink broke. I’ve got it under control now—I think.” Her pajamas hung limply at her ankles, dripping water onto her bare feet. Her hair fell in wet spongy curls around her face, and Joanna had never felt more like bursting into tears in her life.
“Kristen shouldn’t have phoned you,” she said, once she found her voice.
“I’m glad she did. It’s nice to know I can be useful every now and again.” Heedless of her wet state, he wrapped his arms around Joanna and brought her close, gently pressing her damp head to his chest.
A chill went through her and she shuddered. Tanner felt so warm and vital, so concerned and loving. She’d let him think she was this strong independent woman, and normally she was, but when it came to broken pipes and floods and things like that, she crumbled into bite-sized pieces. When it came to Tanner Lund, well…
“You’re soaked to the skin,” he whispered, close to her ear.
“I know.”
“Go change. I’ll take over here.”
The tears started then, silly ones that sprang from somewhere deep inside her and refused to be stopped. “I can’t get dry,” she sobbed, wiping furiously at the moisture that rained down her face. “There aren’t any dry towels left in this entire house.”
Tanner jerked his water-blotched tan leather jacket off and placed it around her shoulders. “Honey, don’t cry. Please. Everything’s going to be all right. It’s just a broken pipe, and I can have it fixed for you before noon—possibly sooner.”
“I can’t help it,” she bellowed, and to her horror, hiccuped. She threw a hand over her mouth and leaned her forehead against his strong chest. “It’s five o’clock in the morning, my expensive Giorgio bubblebath is ruined, and I’m so much in love I can’t think straight.”
Tanner’s hands gripped her shoulders and eased her away so he could look her in the eye. “What did you just say?”
Joanna hung her head as low as it would go, bracing her weight against Tanner’s arms. “My Giorgio bubblebath is ruined.” The words wobbled out of her mouth like a rubber ball tumbling down stairs.
“Not that. I want to hear the other part, about being so much in love.”
Joanna sniffled. “What about it?”
“What about it? Good Lord, woman, I was here not more than eight hours ago wearing my heart on my sleeve like a schoolboy. You were so casual about everything, I thought you were going to open a discussion on stock options.”
“You were the one who was so calm and collected about everything, as if what happened between us didn’t really matter to you.” She rubbed her hand under her nose and sniffled loudly. “Then you made everything sound like a foregone conclusion and—”
“I was nervous. Now, shall we give it another try? I want to marry you, Joanna Parsons. I want you to share my life, maybe have my babies. I want to love you until we’re both old and gray. I’ve even had fantasies about us traveling around the country in a mobile home to visit our grandchildren!”
“You want grandkids?” Timidly, she raised her eyes to his, almost afraid to believe what he was telling her.
“I’d prefer to take this one step at a time. The first thing I want to do is marry you. I couldn’t have made that plainer than I did a few hours ago.”
“But—”
“Stop right now, before we get sidetracked. First things first. Are you and Kristen going to marry me and Nicole?”
“I think we should,” the eleven-year-old said excitedly from the hallway, looking smugly pleased with the way things were going. “I mean, it’s been obvious to Nicole and me for ages that you two were meant to be together.” Kristen sighed and slouched against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest with the sophistication that befitted someone of superior intelligence. “There’s only one flaw in this plan.”
“Flaw?” Joanna echoed.
“Yup,” Kristen said, nodding with unquestionable confidence. “Nicole is going to be mad as hops when she finds out she missed this.”
Tanner frowned, and then he chuckled. “Oh, boy. I think Kristen could be right. We’re going to have to stage a second proposal.”
Feeling slightly piqued, Joanna straightened. “Listen, you two, I never said I was going to marry anybody—yet.”
“Of course you’re going to marry Mr. Lund,” Kristen inserted smoothly. “Honestly, Mom, now isn’t the time to play hard to get.”
“W-what?” Stunned, Joanna stood there staring at her daughter. Her gaze flew from Kristen to Tanner and then back to Kristen.
“She’s right, you know,” said Tanner.
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this.” Joanna was standing in a sea of wet towels, while her daughter and the man she loved discussed her fate as though she was to play only a minor role in it.
“We’ve got to think of a way to include Nicole,” Tanner said thoughtfully.
“I am going to change my clothes,” Joanna murmured, eager to escape.
“Good idea,” Tanner answered, without looking at her.
Joana stomped off to her bedroom and slammed the door. She discarded her pajamas and, shivering, reached for a thick wool sweater and blue jeans.
Tanner and Kristen were still in the bathroom doorway, discussing details, when Joanna reappeared. She moved silently around them and into the kitchen, where she made a pot of coffee. Then she gathered up the wet towels, hauled them onto the back porch, threw them into the washer and started the machine. By the time she returned to the kitchen, Tanner had joined her there.
“Uh-oh. Trouble,” he said, watching her abrupt angry movements. “Okay, tell me what’s wrong now.”
“I don’t like the way you and my daughter are planning my life,” she told him point-blank. “Honestly, Tanner, I haven’t even agreed to marry you, and already you and Kristen have got the next ten years all figured out.”
He stuck his hands in his pants pockets. “It’s not that bad.”
“Maybe not, but it’s bad enough. I’m letting you know right now that I’m not about to let you stage a second proposal just so Nicole can hear it. To be honest, I’m not exactly thrilled about Kristen being part of this one. A marriage proposal is supposed to be private. And romantic, with flowers and music, not…not in front of a busted pipe with bath bubbles popping around my head and my family standing around applauding.”
“Okay, what do you suggest?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Tanner looked disgruntled. “If you want the romance, Joanna, that’s fine. I’d be more than happy to give it to you.”
“Every woman wants romance.”
Tanner walked toward her then and took her in his arms, and until that moment Joanna had no idea how much she did, indeed, want it.
Her eyes were drawn to his. Everything about Tanner Lund fascinated her, and she raised her hand to lightly caress the proud strong line of his jaw. She really did love this man. His eyes, blue and intense, met hers, and a tiny shiver of awareness went through her. His arms circled her waist, and then he lifted her off the ground so that her gaze was level with his own.
Joanna gasped a little at the unexpectedness of his action. Smiling, she looped her arms around his neck.
Tanner kissed her then, with a hunger that left her weak and clinging in i
ts aftermath.
“How’s that?” he asked, his voice husky.
“Better. Much better.”
“I thought so.” Once more his warm mouth made contact with hers. Joanna was startled and thrilled at the intensity of his touch. He kissed her again and again, until she thought that if he released her, she’d fall to the floor and melt at his feet. Every part of her body was heated to fever pitch.
“Joanna—”
She planted warm moist kisses across his face, not satisfied, wanting him until her heart felt as if it might explode. Tanner had awoken the sensual part of her nature, buried all the years since her divorce, and now that it had been stirred back to life, she felt starved for a man’s love—this man’s love.
“Yes,” she breathed into his mouth. “Yes, yes, yes.”
“Yes what?” he asked in a breathless murmur.
Joanna paused and smiled gently. “Yes, I’ll marry you. Right now. Okay? This minute. We can fly somewhere…find a church…Oh, Tanner,” she pleaded, “I want you so much.”
“Joanna, we can’t.” His words came out in a groan, forced from deep inside him.
She heard him, but it didn’t seem to matter. She kissed him and he kissed her. Their kiss continued as he lowered her to the floor, her body sliding intimately down his.
Suddenly Joanna realized what she’d just said, what she’d suggested. “We mustn’t. Kristen—”
Tanner shushed her with another kiss, then said, “I know, love. This isn’t the time or place, but I sure wish…”
Joanna straightened, and broke away. Shakily, she said, “So do I…and, uh, I think we should wait a while for the wedding. At least until Nicole gets back.”
“Right.”
“How long will that be?”
“The end of the week.”
Joanna nodded and closed her eyes. It sounded like an eternity.
“What about your job?”
“I don’t want to work forever, and when we decide to start a family I’ll probably quit. But I want that promotion first.” Joanna wasn’t sure exactly why that was so important to her, but it was. She’d worked years for this achievement, and she had no intention of walking away until she’d become the first female senior loan officer.
Tanner kissed her again. “If it makes you happy keep your job as long as you want.”
At that moment, however, all Joanna could think about were babies, family vacations and homemade cookies.
* * *
“THAT’S HER PLANE now,” Tanner said to Kristen, pointing toward the Boeing jet that was approaching the long narrow landing strip at Spokane International.
“I get to tell her, okay?”
“I think Tanner should do it, sweetheart,” Joanna suggested gently.
“But Nicole and I are best friends. You can’t expect me to keep something like this from her, something we planned since that night we all went to the Pink Palace. If it weren’t for us, you two wouldn’t even know each other.”
Kristen’s eyes were round and pleading as she stared up at Tanner and Joanna.
“You two would have been cast adrift in a sea of loneliness if it hadn’t been for me and Nicole,” she added melodramatically.
“All right, all right,” Tanner said with a sigh. “You can tell her.”
Poised at the railing by the window of the terminal, Kristen eagerly studied each passenger who stepped inside. The minute Nicole appeared, Kristen flew into her friend’s arms as though it had been years since they’d last seen each other instead of a week.
Joanna watched the unfolding scene with a quiet sense of happiness. Nicole let out a squeal of delight and gripped her friend around the shoulders, and the two jumped frantically up and down.
“From her reaction, I’d guess that she’s happy about our decision,” Tanner said to Joanna.
“Dad, Dad!” Nicole raced up to her father, and hugged him with all her might. “It’s so good to be home. I missed you. I missed everyone,” she said, looking at Joanna.
Tanner returned the hug. “It’s good to have you home, cupcake.”
“But everything exciting happened while I was away,” she said, pouting a little. “Gee, if I’d known you were finally going to get rolling with Mrs. Parsons, I’d never have left.”
Joanna smiled blandly at the group of people standing around them.
“Don’t be mad,” Kristen said. “It was a now-or-never situation, with Mom standing there in her pajamas and everything.”
Now it was Tanner’s turn to notice the interested group of onlookers.
“Yes, well, you needn’t feel left out. I saved the best part for you,” Tanner said, taking a beautiful solitaire diamond ring out of his pocket. “I wanted you to be here for this.” He reached for Joanna’s hand, looking into her eyes, as he slowly, reverently, slipped it onto her finger. “I love you, Joanna, and I’ll be the happiest man alive if you marry me.”
“I love you, Tanner,” she said in a soft voice filled with joy.
“Does this mean we’re going to be sisters from now on?” Kristen shrieked, clutching her best friend’s hand.
“Yup,” Nicole answered. “It’s what we always wanted.”
With their arms wrapped around one another’s shoulders, the girls headed toward the baggage-claim area.
“Yours and mine,” Joanna said, watching their two daughters.
Tanner slid his arm around her waist and smiled into her eyes.
* * * * *
Available for the first time on its own in ebook, a fun, sweet, classic romance from favorite author Debbie Macomber.
Maryanne Simpson is working hard to make it as a journalist; it’s not her fault that her father happens to own the newspaper! After rival columnist Nolan Adams writes an unflattering piece about her, she’s furious. But Maryanne decides the tough, streetwise newsman is right about one thing: her life has been too easy. So she quits her job, leaves her luxury apartment and swears not to touch her trust fund. She needs to prove to Nolan—and to herself—that she’s got what it takes to make it on her own. She wants Nolan’s respect…and maybe more. When they end up as neighbors, Maryann discovers that she can’t resist Nolan’s gruff charm, and although he doesn’t seem to be an appropriate match for a socialite, Maryanne has other ideas!
Originally published in 1992.
Here Comes Trouble
Debbie Macomber
CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Epilogue
PROLOGUE
“Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve, Mom!” nine-year-old Courtney Adams said.
“Mom, you have my list for Santa, don’t you?” seven-year-old Bailey asked anxiously. She knelt on her bed, her large brown eyes beseeching.
This, Maryanne Adams recognized, was a blatant attempt to postpone bedtime. Both girls were supposed to turn out their lights ten minutes ago but, as usual, they were looking for any excuse to delay the inevitable. The one thing Maryanne hoped to avoid was yet another discussion about the top item on both their Christmas lists—a puppy.
“What about my list?” Courtney asked from her bed. She, at least, had crawled between the covers, but remained in a sitting position.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure Santa has both your lists by now,” Maryanne reassured her daughters. She stood in the doorway, her hand poised over the light switch. Both her daughters slept in canopy beds their Simpson grandparents had insisted on purchasing for them. It was their prerogative to spoil the grandkids, her father had told her so she didn’t argue too much. The grandchildren were the delight of their grandparents’ lives and cou
ld do no wrong.
“Did you read the list before you gave it to Santa?” Courtney asked.
At nine, Courtney was well aware that Santa was actually her mom and dad, but she was generous enough not to spoil the fantasy for her younger sister.
“You said your prayers?” Maryanne asked, wanting to turn the subject away from a dog.
Bailey nodded. “I prayed for a puppy.”
“I did, too.” Courtney echoed.
They were certainly persistent. “We’ll see what happens,” Maryanne said.
Bailey glanced at her older sister. “Is ‘we’ll see’ good news?”
Courtney looked uncertain. “I don’t know.” She turned pleading eyes to her mother. “Mom, we have to know.”
“Mom, please, I beg of you,” Bailey cried dramatically. “We’ve just got to have a dog. We’ve got to.”
Maryanne sighed. “I hate to disappoint you, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for our family to get a puppy now.”
“Why not?” Courtney demanded, her sweet face filling with disappointment.
Instinctively, Maryanne pressed her hand to her stomach. It was time to tell the girls that there’d be a new family member in six months—past time, really, for them to know. She’d wanted to share the news earlier, but this baby was a complete surprise; she and Nolan had needed time to adjust to the idea first.
Stepping all the way into the room, Maryanne sat on the edge of Courtney’s bed. She’d prefer to tell the girls with Nolan at her side, but her husband was on deadline and had barricaded himself in his home office, coming out once or twice a day. The last fifty pages of a book were always the most difficult for him to write, winding down the plot and tying up all the loose ends. It was never easy, according to Nolan, to part with the characters he’d lived with for the past number of months. They were as real to him as his own flesh and blood, and because she was a writer, too, she understood that.
“We’ll discuss this later.” Checking her watch, she frowned. “It’s past your bedtime as it is.”
“Aw, Mom,” Bailey moaned.
What Makes a Family Page 16
