Читать книгу The Manning Grooms: Bride on the Loose / Same Time, Next Year - Debbie Macomber - Страница 10

He’d kissed her. He’d actually kissed Charlotte. An hour later, Jason still had trouble taking it in.

Oh, he’d kissed plenty of women in his day. But this time, with this woman, it was different. He didn’t know how he understood that, but he did. He’d realized it long before he’d touched her. Perhaps because she was so different from what he’d assumed. He’d figured she was dignified, straitlaced, unapproachable. Then, as soon as he’d told her about basketball rules, she’d kicked off her shoes and was cheering as enthusiastically as he was himself. What a contrast he found in her. Prim and proper on the outside, a hellion waiting to break loose on the inside.

She intrigued him. Beguiled him.

At some point during their evening together—exactly when, he couldn’t be sure—he’d felt an unfamiliar tug, a stirring deep within. The feeling hadn’t gone away. If anything, it had intensified.

What they’d shared wasn’t any ordinary kiss, either. Perhaps that explained it. They’d communicated on an entirely different level, one he’d never known before. It seemed their spirits—the deepest, innermost part of themselves—had somehow touched. He shook his head. He was getting fanciful.

No, this wasn’t the kind of kiss he’d had with any other woman. He’d never gone so slowly, been so careful. Although she’d acted blatantly provocative, urging him to deepen the contact, he’d resisted. That same inner voice that had said Charlotte was different had also warned him to proceed with caution. He’d sensed how fragile she was, and the urge to protect her, even from himself, had been overwhelming.

Jason wasn’t generally so philosophical. He didn’t waste time deliberating on relationships or motivations. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking right now. His reaction to Charlotte was unwarranted—wasn’t it? Although it’d been a nice kiss, it wasn’t so spectacular that his whole world should be turned upside down.

Yet it was—flipped over completely.

Jason felt almost giddy with sensation. These feelings weren’t logical. It was as if God had decided to play a world-class trick on him.

Jason considered himself too old for romance. He didn’t even know what romance was. Pure foolishness, he thought sarcastically. It was one of the primary reasons he’d never married, and never intended to. He wasn’t a romantic kind of guy. A pizza and cold beer while watching a football game interested him far more than staring across a candlelit table at some woman and pretending to be overwhelmed by her beauty. Flattery and small talk weren’t for him.

And yet … he remembered how good Charlotte’s arms had felt around his neck. She’d held her body so tightly against his that he could feel her heart beat. It was a closeness that had transcended the physical.

By the time she’d left, Jason felt heady, as if he’d had too much to drink. He didn’t understand her rush, either. He hadn’t wanted her to leave and had tried to come up with a reason for her to stay. Any reason. But she’d quietly slipped out of his arms and left before he could think of a way to keep her there. If he was witty and romantic he might’ve thought of something. But he wasn’t, so he’d been forced to let her go.

Jason started pacing, the Lakers game forgotten. He needed to clear the cobwebs from his head. He wasn’t any good at analyzing situations like this. All he knew was that he’d enjoyed holding Charlotte in his arms, enjoyed kissing her, and he looked forward to doing it again.

He sank down in front of the television, surprised to find the basketball game already over. Stunned, he stared at the credits rolling down the screen. He didn’t even know who won. He waited, hoping the camera would scan the scoreboard, but it didn’t happen.

He had a bet riding on the outcome of the game. Nothing major, just a friendly wager between brothers. Nevertheless, high stakes or low, it wasn’t like Jason Manning to be caught without a final score.

The phone rang and Jason hurried to the kitchen to answer it.

“Hello,” he said absently, keeping his eye on the television, still hoping to learn the final outcome.

“I knew I never should’ve picked the Nuggets,” Rich muttered.

“You mean the Lakers won?”

“By eight points. Where have you been all evening?”

“Home,” Jason returned defensively. “I had company. A tenant stopped in to chat.”

“During a play-off game, and you didn’t get rid of them?”

Actually Jason hadn’t intended to tell his brother even that much, but Rich had a point. Jason wasn’t one to sit around and shoot the breeze when he could be watching a game. Any kind of game.

“It was business,” he explained, unnecessarily annoyed. He felt mildly guilty for stretching the truth. Charlotte’s original intent had been to apologize and tell him she’d changed her mind about moving. That was business. Staying the better part of two hours wasn’t.

Ignoring Jason’s bad mood, Rich chatted on, replaying the last half of the fourth quarter in which the Lakers had made an “amazing” comeback. While his brother was speaking, Jason glanced at the list of his tenants’ phone numbers, which he kept by the phone for easy reference. The way his eyes immediately latched on to Charlotte’s name, anyone might think it had been circled in red. He was so distracted by reading her name over and over in his mind that he missed most of what Rich was telling him.

When the conversation with his brother ended, Jason couldn’t recall more than a few words of what they’d said. Just enough to regret that he hadn’t been watching the game. Just enough to wish he’d thought of something that would’ve prompted Charlotte to stay.

Without a second’s deliberation, he reached for his phone and dialed her number. Carrie answered before the first ring had been completed. She must not have recognized his voice, because she got Charlotte without comment.

“Hello.”

“Hi,” he said, feeling gauche. “The Lakers won.”

“I know.”

Apparently their kiss hadn’t deranged her the way it had him. She must have gone back to her apartment, plunked herself down and watched the rest of the game, while he’d been walking around in a stupor for the past hour.

“I was thinking,” Jason began, “about dinner tomorrow night. That is, if you’re free.”

“Dinner,” she repeated as if this was a foreign concept. “What time?” she asked a moment later.

“Six.”

“Sure.”

His mood lightened. “Great, I’ll pick you up then.” He replaced the receiver and glanced around his kitchen, frustrated by how messy it was. He hated housework, hated having to pick up after himself, hated the everyday chores that made life so mundane. Every dish he owned was dirty, except the ones in his dishwasher, which were clean. It didn’t make sense to reload it while there were clean dishes he could use in there.

Needing something to occupy his mind, he tackled the task of cleaning up the kitchen with unprecedented enthusiasm.

Jason’s eagerness to see Charlotte again had waned by the following afternoon. A good night’s sleep and a day at the clinic had sufficiently straightened out his brain. He’d behaved in a manner that was completely out of character. He couldn’t even begin to figure out why.

Charlotte was a woman. There wasn’t anything special about her. No reason he should be falling all over himself for the opportunity to take her out. He’d missed the last half of an important basketball game because his thoughts had become so tangled up with her. That would’ve been devotion enough for any woman in his life—only she wasn’t in his life, and he intended to keep it that way.

Furthermore, Jason wasn’t that keen on Charlotte’s teenage daughter thinking he’d fallen in with her scheme. He could see it now. Carrie would give him a brilliant smile and a high-five when he arrived. The girl was bound to believe she was responsible for Jason asking Charlotte out. She might even try to slip him some of the money she’d offered him earlier. The whole thing had the potential for disaster written all over it.

If a convenient excuse to cancel this date had presented itself, Jason would’ve grabbed it with both hands.

The way his luck was going, they’d probably run into his parents, and his mother would start hounding him again about getting married. He’d never understood why women considered marriage so important. Frustrated, he’d asked his mother once, and her answer had confused him even more. She’d looked at him serenely without interrupting the task that occupied her hands and had casually said, “It’s good to have a partner.”

A partner! She’d made it sound like he needed a wife in order to compete in a mixed bowling league.

His parents weren’t exactly throwing potential mates his way, but they’d let it be known that they were hoping he’d get married sometime soon. Jason, however, was intelligent enough not to become involved in a lifetime relationship just to satisfy his parents’ wishes.

Whatever craziness had prompted him to ask Charlotte out to dinner had passed during the night. He’d awakened sane and in command of his usual common sense.

As the day went on he found himself actually dreading the date. The two of them had absolutely nothing in common. He’d go through with this, Jason decided grimly, because he was a man of his word. Since he told her he’d be there by six, he would be, but snow would fall at the equator before he gave in to an impulse like this again.

She was dressed completely wrong, Charlotte realized as soon as Jason arrived. Not knowing what to wear, she’d chosen a navy blue suit, not unlike the one she’d worn to the office. She’d attempted to dress it up a bit with a bright turquoise-and-pink scarf and a quarter-size silver pin of a colorful toucan. Jason arrived in jeans, sweatshirt and a baseball cap with a University of Washington Huskies logo on it.

“Hello,” she said, forcing herself to smile. A hundred times in the last hour she’d regretted ever agreeing to this date. Jason had caught her off guard when he’d phoned. She hadn’t known what to say. Hadn’t had time to think of an excuse.

Now she was stuck, but judging by his expression, Jason didn’t seem any more pleased than she was. He frowned at her until she was so self-conscious, she suggested changing clothes.

“Don’t worry about it,” he muttered, tucking the tips of his fingers into his back pockets. They definitely made a pair. He’d dressed like someone visiting the amusement park, and she looked like a student of Emily Post.

Charlotte was grateful that Carrie had gone to the library with a friend. The other mom was picking them up, but it would give Charlotte a convenient excuse to hurry home.

“Where would you like to eat?” Jason asked once they were outside the apartment.

“Wherever you want.”

“Mexican food?” He didn’t sound enthusiastic.

“Fine.” Especially since there was a restaurant close by. “How about Mr. Tamales on Old Military Road?”

“Sure,” he agreed easily enough. He was probably thinking the same thing she was. The sooner they got there, the sooner they’d be finished and could go back to their respective lives instead of dabbling in this nonsense.

For the short time they were together, Charlotte figured she might as well enjoy herself. The restaurant was little more than a greasy spoon, but the food had earned its excellent reputation.

The place apparently did a brisk business on week-nights because there was only one spot available.

“I never would’ve thought we’d need reservations,” Jason said, looking as surprised as Charlotte.

The hostess, wearing an off-the-shoulder peasant blouse and black skirt, smiled and escorted them to the booth. The waitress followed close behind. She handed them each a menu shaped like a cactus and then brought water, tortilla chips and salsa. Charlotte read over the choices, made her selection and scooped up a jalapeño pepper with a chip.

“You aren’t going to eat that, are you?” Jason asked, staring at her as if she’d pulled the pin activating a grenade.

Charlotte grinned. “Oh, that’s another thing I forgot to mention last night—women can eat chili peppers better than a man.”

“Not this time, sweetheart. I was weaned on hot peppers.” He took one, poising it in front of his mouth.

“Me, too,” she challenged.

They bit into the peppers simultaneously. The seeds and juice dribbled down Charlotte’s chin and she grabbed a paper napkin, dabbing it against her skin.

“You weren’t kidding,” Jason said, obviously impressed.

“I never kid.” A five-alarm fire was blazing in her mouth, but she smiled and reached casually for another chip and some water. The water intensified the burning, but she smiled cheerfully as though nothing was wrong.

“Rich and I used to eat these peppers right out of Dad’s garden.”

“I take it Rich is your brother?”

“I’m one of five,” Jason went on to explain, and she noted that his eyes brightened with pride. “Paul’s the oldest, then there’s me, followed by Rich. My sisters, Taylor and Christy, round out the family.”

“Are any of them married?”

“Everyone but me. I’m beginning to lose track of how many nieces and nephews I’ve got now, and there doesn’t seem to be a lull yet.”

Charlotte had never had much of a family. Her father had deserted her and her mother when Charlotte was too young to remember him. Then her mother had died just about the time Charlotte graduated from high school. The insurance money was set up to cover her college expenses. Only the money hadn’t been used for her. Instead, Tom had been educated on her inheritance; he’d robbed her of even that.

Charlotte lowered her gaze. It hurt too much to think about Tom and that bleak period of her life when she’d been so lost and vulnerable. So alone, with no family. Her ex-husband had used her and when he’d finished, he’d thrown her aside.

All the time she was growing up, Charlotte had dreamed about being part of a large, loving family. How she envied Jason his brothers and sisters.

“The story of my family tree is less about the roots,” he said, grinning as he spoke, “than the sap.”

Charlotte’s laugh was spontaneous. She picked up her water, warmed by his wit and his willingness to laugh at himself. “I was an only child. I promised myself I’d have a houseful of kids when I got married so my children wouldn’t grow up lonely.”

“Lonely,” Jason echoed. “I would have given anything for some peace and quiet. The girls were the worst.”

“Somehow I guessed you’d complain about the women in your family.”

“You know,” he said, “I never thought I’d say this, but I really miss Taylor and Christy. They’re both living in Montana now, raising their families. We get together when we can, which isn’t nearly often enough. It’s been over a year since we saw each other.”

The waitress came for their order. Charlotte asked for the specialty salad, which consisted of beans, rice, cheese, shredded chicken, lettuce and slices of tomato and jalapeño peppers. Jason chose the chicken enchiladas.

“Do your brothers live in the Seattle area?”

Jason nodded. “Paul’s a journalist and Rich works as an engineer for Boeing. We see each other frequently.”

Their orders arrived and they chatted amicably over their meal. Jason sampled her salad and fed her a bite of his enchiladas; both were delicious. Soon they’d asked the waitress for two additional plates and were unabashedly sharing their meals.

It was only seven-thirty when they’d finished, even though they lingered over coffee. Charlotte couldn’t remember time passing more quickly.

All day she’d been worried about this dinner—and for nothing. She’d enjoyed herself even more than she’d hoped, but that was easy to do with Jason. He didn’t put on airs or pretend to be something he wasn’t. Nor did he feign agreement with her; their differing opinions meant a free and interesting exchange of ideas.

“I should be heading home,” Charlotte said, although she could happily have sat there talking. They weren’t at a loss for topics, but the restaurant was busy and Carrie would be home soon.

“Yeah, I suppose we should go,” he said reluctantly, standing. He left a generous tip and took the tab up to the counter.

After talking nonstop for nearly an hour, both were strangely quiet on the drive home. Charlotte had been determined to enjoy herself from the start, but she’d expected to make the best of a bad situation. Instead she’d had a wonderful time.

She hadn’t known how starved she was for adult companionship, hadn’t realized how empty she’d felt inside, how deep the void had become.

As they neared the apartment complex, she realized one more thing. She didn’t want this evening to end.

“Would you like to come in for coffee?” she asked as he parked his car. For half the ride home, Charlotte had been engaging in a silent debate. She was sure that if Carrie was home, she’d make a big deal about Jason’s presence. But Charlotte would get the third degree from her daughter anyway, so she decided it didn’t matter if Jason came in.

“I could use another cup of coffee,” Jason told her, although they’d both had large mugs at the restaurant.

As luck would have it, Carrie wasn’t home yet. Charlotte had been counting on her teenage daughter to act as a buffer between her and Jason. She half suspected Jason was thinking the same thing.

“Carrie’s at the library with a friend,” she explained. “But I’m sure she’ll be back any minute.”

“I wondered what she was up to tonight.”

“I’ll put on the coffee,” she said self-consciously, going directly to the kitchen. “Make yourself at home.”

While she scooped up the grounds and poured water into the pot, she saw that Jason had lowered himself onto her sofa. He reached for a magazine and flipped through the pages, then set it back and reached for another. Since it was upside down, his attention was clearly elsewhere. He noted his mistake, righted the magazine, then placed it with the others. Apparently Seventeen magazine didn’t interest him after all.

There was no reason for him to be so nervous. It was funny; they’d chatted like old friends at the restaurant, but the instant they were alone, they became uncomfortable with each other.

“I thought you might like some cookies,” she said, as she carried the tray into the living room. She’d baked chocolate chip cookies that weekend, and there were plenty left over.

Being a single mother left her vulnerable to attacks of guilt—guilt that often led to an abundance of homemade cookies. There were so many things she didn’t know about family, so much she’d missed out on. It bothered her more than she wanted to admit. Whenever Charlotte was feeling anxious or contrite about something, she baked. And with the ninth-grade dance hanging over her head, she’d been doing a lot of baking lately. The cookie jar was full. The freezer was packed, too. Even Carrie was complaining about all the goodies around the house. Too tempting, she said. Her daughter claimed Charlotte was trying to raise her cholesterol and kill her off.

More guilt, more need to bake cookies. It was a vicious circle.

“Homemade cookies,” Jason said, sliding forward, far more appreciative than her daughter. “I didn’t know anyone but my mother baked these days.” He took one and downed it in two bites, nodding vigorously even before he’d finished chewing.

Charlotte smiled at the unspoken compliment and poured their coffee in plain white china cups. “There’s plenty more where those came from.”

Jason helped himself to a second and then a third.

Charlotte was pleased that he seemed to value her culinary skills. “I guess it’s true, then.”

He cocked one eyebrow. “What?”

“Never mind,” she muttered, sorry she’d brought up the subject.

“If you’re thinking the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, forget it. Others before you have tried that route.”

“Several dozen, no doubt,” she teased, amused by his complete lack of modesty. Not to mention his arrogance.

“I’ve suffered my share of feminine wiles.”

“Feminine wiles,” Charlotte repeated, trying hard not to laugh out loud. He acted as though she was setting a trap for him. She was about to reassure him that she had no intention of remarrying, then decided against it. She’d let him assume whatever he wanted. After all, he was helping her get rid of these cookies before they overran the apartment.

She did bring up another topic, though, one she couldn’t help being curious about. “Why aren’t you married?” She hoped he wouldn’t be offended by her directness; based on their previous conversations she didn’t expect him to be.

Jason shrugged and swallowed the last bite of the last cookie she’d set out. He seemed to be thinking over his response as he picked up his coffee and relaxed against the back of the sofa. “I learned something recently about the differences between a man and a woman. It’s information that’s served me well.”

They certainly had a routine going with this subject. “Oh, what’s that?”

“Tell me, all kidding aside,” he said, his blue eyes serious, “what is it women want from a man?”

Charlotte thought about that for a moment. “To be loved.”

He nodded approvingly.

“To be needed and respected.”

“Exactly.” He grinned, clearly pleased by her answer.

He was making this easy, and Charlotte warmed to her ideas. “A woman longs to be held, of course, but more than that, she wants to be treasured, appreciated.”

“Perfect,” Jason said, smiling benignly. “Now ask me what a man wants.”

“All right,” she said, crossing her legs, holding the saucer with one hand, her cup in the other. “What is it a man wants?”

“Tickets to the World Series,” Jason returned without a pause.

Charlotte nearly choked on her laughter. Fortunately she wasn’t swallowing a sip of coffee at the time. “I see what you mean,” she said after she’d composed herself. “There does seem to be a basic, shall we say, disconnect here.”

He nodded. “It was when Rich gave up two tickets for a Seahawks football game that I knew he’d fallen in love.”

“That’s sweet,” Charlotte said with a sigh, enjoying the romance of it all.

“Don’t go all soft on me. It wasn’t like it sounds. He gave the tickets to a friend as a bribe. Rich didn’t want to date Jamie himself, he wanted someone else to fall in love with her.”

“He bribed another guy to take her out?”

“Yup. He was in love with her himself, but like the rest of us, he’s useless when it comes to romance. I figured it out before he did, and I know next to nothing about that kind of stuff.” Jason grinned. “From that point on, it was all downhill for Rich. He’s married and has a couple of kids now. A girl and a boy.”

“I don’t care what you say. That’s sweet.”

“Perhaps.”

Charlotte was relaxed now. She removed her shoes and propped her feet on the coffee table, crossing her legs at the ankles. “Have you ever been in love?” At Jason’s hesitation, she hurried to add, “I shouldn’t have asked that.”

“I don’t mind, if you won’t take offense at my answer—which is, I don’t know. I thought I was once, several years back, but in retrospect I’m not sure. It hurt when we broke up, and I was sorry we hadn’t been able to work things out, but I don’t have any real regrets.”

“What was her name?”

“Julie. She’s married now.”

Charlotte didn’t understand where she found the courage, but she reached forward and brushed her index finger down the side of Jason’s face. She wanted to ease the pain she read in his expression, the pain he discounted so casually. A pain she recognized, since she’d walked through this valley herself, with the cold wind of despair howling at her back.

Jason’s gaze met hers and she felt immersed in a look so warm, so intense, that her breath caught. She couldn’t remember a man ever looking at her that way, as though he wasn’t sure she was even real. As if he was afraid she’d vanish if he touched her.

Jason removed the cup and saucer from her hands and set them on the tray next to the empty plate.

He was going to kiss her; she realized it in the same moment she owned up to how much she wanted him to. All night she’d been looking forward to having him do exactly this, only she hadn’t been willing to admit it.

His mouth was gentle and sweet with the taste of coffee and chocolate. He kissed her the way he had the night before, and Charlotte could barely take in the sensation that overwhelmed her. She’d never thought she’d feel anything so profound, so exciting, again. She hadn’t believed she was capable of such a rush of feeling….

She whimpered and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on to him in a world that had started to spin out of control. His hands framed her face and he slanted his mouth over hers, answering her need with his own.

Jason kissed her again and again.

The sound coming from the front door barely registered in her passion-drugged brain.

“Mom … Jason …” was followed by a shocked pause, then, “Wow, this is great.”

Charlotte broke away from Jason and leapt to her feet.

“Gee, Mom, there’s no need to get embarrassed. People kiss all the time.” Carrie floated across the carpet, then threw herself into a chair. “So,” she said, smiling broadly, “is there anything either of you want to tell me?”

“Like what?” Charlotte asked.

Carrie shrugged with utter nonchalance. “That you’re getting married?”