The Manning Grooms

by Debbie Macomber

  “Yes. You look like a Jim instead of a James.”

  James grinned. “There’s a difference?”

  “Oh, yes, a big one.”

  “Which do you prefer?” he asked, studying her from the corner of his eye.

  His question made her hesitate. “I’m not sure. I like the way Jim dresses, but I like the way James kisses.”

  “What about how Jim kisses?” The conversation was getting ridiculous.

  “Too impatient, I think.”

  “Really?” He couldn’t help feeling a bit miffed. “What’s so wonderful about James?”

  “His restraint. When James kisses me, it’s as if he’s holding back part of himself. I have the feeling he’s afraid to let go, and it drives me crazy. I want to discover what he’s hiding from me. I know this probably sounds a little crazy, but I find James intriguing.”

  “And Jim?”

  She giggled. “Don’t tell him, but he’s sexy as hell.”

  “Really?” James was beginning to feel downright cocky.

  “He’s got that devil-may-care attitude. I have a strong feeling we should be grateful to those burros, because there’s no telling what could’ve happened between us in the canyon.”

  She was right about that.

  “It’s those shoes you made me buy,” James told her. “The minute I put them on, I had this incredible urge to look for a basketball court and do slam dunks.” James loved the sound of Summer’s laugher. He’d never been one to tease and joke, but he reveled in her appreciation of his wit.

  It was midafternoon when they arrived back at the hotel. After showing the security guard their keys, they stepped into the elevator.

  “How about dinner?” he asked, hoping he sounded casual when in reality he felt anything but.

  “Sure. What time?”

  “Six,” he said. Three hours, and he’d be more than ready to see her again. He wanted to suggest they do something until then, but didn’t feel he should monopolize her time, although he’d pretty much succeeded in doing that anyway.

  “Six o’clock. In the lobby?”

  “The lobby,” he agreed.

  The elevator stopped at her floor, and Summer stared down at her room key. “I’ll see you at six.”

  “Six.” They sounded like a couple of parrots.

  “Thanks for taking me this morning,” she said, easing toward the door. “And for coming to the mall.”

  “Thank you.” He bounced an imaginary basketball and pretended to make a hoop shot.

  She smiled, and acting on pure instinct, James lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was gentle, and when they broke apart, it was all James could do not to follow her to her room.

  Summer sat on the end of her bed, trembling. She closed her eyes and tried to relive those last seconds with James and couldn’t. Being in his arms was the only possible way to recapture the sensation she experienced each time she was with him.

  Julie, her roommate, had known long before Summer had realized it herself. When James had asked her how often she dated, she’d invented an excuse to explain why her social life was nonexistent of late.

  But it was really because of his letters.

  Hearing from James had become an important part of her life. On the first day of every month she rushed to the mailbox, knowing there’d be a letter from him, each longer than the one before. She’d fallen in love with the man who’d written her those beautiful letters.

  Unfortunately she hadn’t realized it until she’d seen James. She was worried that she alone experienced all this feeling, all this awareness. But after he’d kissed her, she knew that couldn’t be true. He felt it, too.

  She smiled to herself, remembering how flustered he’d looked when she’d said they had an audience.

  Summer smiled at the memory.

  Lying down on the bed, she stared up at the ceiling and soon found herself giggling. She was in love with James. She didn’t feel a second’s doubt, not the slightest qualm or uncertainty. To think she’d actually believed she’d never love another man after Brett.

  She might have drowned in a pool of self-pity if it hadn’t been for James. She owed him so much.

  As she considered their plans to continue seeing each other, she knew it would be difficult to maintain the relationship, especially since they lived such separate lives.

  It would require effort and commitment on both their parts. Summer was willing. She could tell that James wasn’t as convinced as she was that they could make this work, but she didn’t harbor a single doubt.

  Summer dressed carefully for her dinner date with James. She chose a simple sundress with a lacy shawl and pretty sandals.

  He was waiting at the same place in the lobby, but he surprised her by not wearing a suit and tie. He’d worn one of the short-sleeved shirts they’d bought that day and a pair of khaki pants. For a moment she barely recognized him. He looked relaxed, as though he hadn’t a care in the world.

  “James,” she whispered when she joined him.

  “Jim,” he corrected, and grinned. He placed his hand inside his pant pocket and struck a catalog pose.

  Summer laughed delightedly.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” James said. He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and guided her toward the door.

  “I’m starved.”

  “Great. We’re about to indulge ourselves in a feast fit for the gods.” When they reached the sidewalk of Glitter Gulch, the lights made it as bright as the noonday sun.

  “I thought about the conversation we had this afternoon,” he announced out of the blue.

  “About keeping in touch?”

  He nodded. “I’m not sure what we have, the two of us, but whatever it is, I don’t want to lose it.”

  “I don’t, either.”

  “I’ve only felt this strongly about one other woman in my life.”

  “I’ve only felt this way about one other man.”

  “If I was going to put a name on this…this thing between us…”

  “Yes?” she asked when he hesitated. James was a thoughtful man. She didn’t mean to rush him, but she wanted him to say what was already on the tip of her tongue. Consequently, she had no qualms about leaping in. “I love you, James Wilkens. I want to throw my arms in the air and sing.”

  He looked at her as if he were actually afraid she’d do exactly that. “What you feel is just gratitude.”

  “Gratitude,” she repeated scornfully. “Just gratitude.” She shook her head. “I’m capable of knowing my own mind, thank you kindly, and when I say I love you, I mean it.”

  “I see,” James said, and his voice fell.

  “You don’t have to worry about telling me how you feel, either,” she was quick to assure him. It wasn’t necessary; his kiss told her everything she needed to know.

  “But…”

  She stopped in the middle of the crowded sidewalk and pressed her finger to his lips.

  “I’m too old for you,” he muttered.

  She narrowed her eyes.

  “But I’m crazy about you, Summer. Call me the biggest fool that ever lived, but it’s true.”

  “Thank you very much.”

  James chuckled. “I haven’t been doing a very good job of hiding how I feel. Maybe that’s because I didn’t expect to feel like this.” He splayed his fingers through his hair. “In retrospect, I wonder what I did expect.”

  “I assumed we’d have dinner that first night and we’d talk about what we said in our letters, and then we’d more or less go our separate ways, me back to my life in California, you back to yours…”

  “Really.” He arched his eyebrows.

  “I wanted Julie to fly in for the weekend, but she refused and I couldn’t get her to give me a reason. I know now. She realized what I hadn’t—that I’m in love with you. My feelings developed slowly over the past year, and Julie saw it happening.” She inhaled a deep breath. “I don’t want to lose you, James. We can make this work if we try.”


  “It’s not going to be easy.”

  As his words faded an idea struck Summer. “Oh, my goodness.”

  James stopped abruptly. “What is it?”

  “James.” She clasped his arm as she stared up at him. With every passing second the idea gained momentum. “I just thought of something…wonderful,” she said urgently.

  “What is it?” His arm circled her waist.

  “Oh, James. Kiss me, please, just kiss me.”

  “Kiss you here?” James asked, appalled.

  “Never mind.” She laughed and, throwing her arms around his neck, she stood on the tips of her toes and kissed him, a deep, lingering kiss that communicated her feelings to him—and his to her.

  He stared down at her dumbstruck when she stepped away.

  “James,” she said breathlessly, “I think we should get married.”

  “Married.” The word was barely audible.

  “It makes sense, don’t you agree? I know how I feel about you, and you’ve admitted your feelings for me. Here we are, both worried about the most ridiculous things, when we already have what’s most important. Each other.”

  Still James didn’t say anything. He looked around, and his expression seemed slightly desperate, but that could have been her imagination.

  “I can guess what you’re thinking,” she said with a laugh, “but I’ve got an answer for every one of your arguments.”

  “We hardly know each other.”

  That was a pretty weak argument. “Is that so? You know me better than friends I’ve had all my life. You’ve seen me at my worst. You’ve listened to my pain and my frustrations. There isn’t a thing I can’t talk about with you.”

  He frowned, and Summer longed to smooth the lines from his brow and kiss away his doubts.

  “Don’t look so worried! Honestly, James, anyone would think you were in a state of shock.”

  “I am.” This came through loud and clear.

  “But why?” His hesitation took her by surprise. She knew the idea would take some getting used to on James’s part. He didn’t leap into projects and ideas the way she did. He was methodical and thoughtful and carefully weighed every decision.

  “Perhaps I’m assuming something here that I shouldn’t,” she said slowly. “You don’t want to marry me, do you, James?”

  Four

  Summer was mortified to the very marrow of her bones. Without even trying, she’d managed to make a complete fool of herself. James had never come right out and said he was in love with her. But with all their talk about how important they were to each other, she’d naturally assumed he cared as deeply for her as she did for him. She’d assumed he’d want to marry her.

  “James, I’m sorry,” she said in a weak voice. Past experience had taught her to right wrongs as quickly as possible.

  “Summer…”

  “Of course you don’t want to marry me. I understand. Really, I do,” she said and pretended to laugh, but it sounded more like a muffled sob. “Now I’ve embarrassed us both. I don’t know why I say the ridiculous things I do.” She tried to make light of it by gesturing with her hands. “I guess I should’ve warned you that I blurt out the most incredibly awkward stuff. Forget I said anything about marriage, please—otherwise it’ll ruin our evening.”

  James was silent, which made everything ten times worse. She’d rather he ranted and raved than said nothing.

  In an effort to fill the terrible silence, she started chattering, talking fast, jumping from one subject to another.

  She commented on how busy the casinos were. She talked about the big-name stars performing in town. She mentioned a friend of a friend who’d won the California State lottery, and then brought up air pollution problems in Los Angeles.

  “Summer, stop,” James finally told her. “It’s fine.”

  She snapped her mouth shut. How she was going to get through the evening without humiliating herself further, she didn’t know.

  Her stomach was in such a knot that by the time they reached the hotel where the restaurant was located, she felt sure she’d only be able to make a pretense of eating.

  The hostess seated them, but Summer got up as soon as the hostess left them.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” she said.

  James looked up from his menu.

  “I’ll be right back.” She was hoping that a few minutes alone in the ladies’ room would help her regain her composure.

  “Summer, wait,” James said. “I don’t want you to feel bad about this.”

  She nodded, determined to drop the subject entirely. “Did you notice they had lobster on the menu?” She didn’t actually know if this was true or not.

  “It’s just that most men prefer to do the asking.”

  “Of course.” And it went without saying that the very proper King County Superior Court Judge James Wilkens wouldn’t want an empty-headed actress for a wife.

  Summer asked a passing waiter directions for the ladies’ room. As she walked across the restaurant, weaving around tables, she felt James’s eyes following her.

  Once inside the restroom, Summer sat on the pink velvet sofa and closed her eyes. After a number of deep, calming breaths, she waited for the acute embarrassment to pass.

  It didn’t.

  Briefly she toyed with the idea of slipping away, but that would’ve been childish and unfair to James. His only crime had been his silence, and he’d already explained that was simply his way. Just like making a world-class fool of herself seemed to be hers.

  Five minutes later she rejoined him.

  He looked up, almost as if he was surprised to see her. “I wasn’t sure you’d be back.”

  “I wouldn’t be that rude. It isn’t your fault I’m an idiot.”

  “Stop,” he said sharply. “Don’t say such things about yourself.”

  “I can’t believe I thought you’d marry someone like me,” she said, poking fun at herself. “The girl who always speaks before she thinks and leaps before she looks.”

  “As a matter of fact, I do plan to marry you.” He announced this while scanning the menu, which he then set aside. He watched her as if he expected some kind of argument. Summer might have offered him one if her throat hadn’t closed up, making talking impossible.

  The menu slid from her fingers and fell onto the table. Nervously she groped for it.

  “Have you decided?” James asked.

  She stared at him blankly.

  “What would you like to order for dinner?”

  “Oh.” She hadn’t even glanced at the menu. Frazzled as she was, she chose the first thing she saw. “Chicken Dijon,” she said.

  “Not lobster? It isn’t every day one becomes engaged. I think we should celebrate, don’t you?”

  Somehow she managed a nod.

  The waiter came, and James ordered for them both, requesting lobster and champagne. Their server nodded approvingly and disappeared. A moment later he returned with a champagne bottle for James’s inspection.

  “We’ll need to see about an engagement ring,” James said as though they were discussing something as mundane as the weather. “I imagine Las Vegas has quite a few good jewelers.”

  The waiter opened the champagne bottle with a loud pop and poured a small amount into the fluted glass for James to sample. He tasted it and nodded. Soon both their glasses were filled.

  Summer breathed easier once they were alone. “James,” she whispered, leaning forward. “Are you sure you want to marry me?”

  He leaned toward her, too, and a grin slowly formed. “Yes.”

  “All at once I’m not convinced I’m the right person for you.”

  “Shouldn’t I be the one to decide that?”

  “Yes, but…I’d hate to think we’re reacting to circumstances that wouldn’t repeat themselves in a hundred years.”

  “Then we’ll have a long engagement. We’ll both be positive before we take that final step.”

  “All right.” Summer felt only mildly reassured.r />
  “We’ll continue to see each other on a regular basis,” James told her.

  “Yes…we’ll need that.” She didn’t like the idea of being apart so much, but that couldn’t be helped.

  “I wouldn’t want the engagement to be too long,” Summer said. “I dated Brett for five years, and we were unofficially and then officially engaged almost that whole time. We both know where that ended up.”

  “Do you wish you’d married him?”

  “No,” she answered emphatically. “I don’t have a single regret. I know you’d never do the things Brett did.”

  James’s eyes brightened with intensity. “It isn’t in me to hurt you.”

  “And I’d never knowingly hurt you,” she promised.

  “In light of what happened between Christy and me, I’m not fond of long engagements, either.”

  “Do you regret not marrying her sooner? That way she would’ve gone to visit her sister as a married woman.”

  “I’ve thought about that,” James said. “Christy would never have allowed anything to develop between her and Cody if we’d been married. Getting involved with him behind my back was almost more than she could bear.”

  “I see.” Summer figured she could read the writing on the wall. “You wish you’d married her, don’t you?”

  “No.”

  His quick response surprised her. “Why not?”

  “Christy Manning didn’t love me as much as I loved her. I’m sure she would have done her best to be a good wife, and we probably would have grown close over the years, but she would’ve married me for the wrong reasons.”

  “The wrong reasons? What reasons?”

  “She was trying to make her parents happy.”

  “Okay,” Summer said slowly, still feeling her way carefully around the subject. “So neither of us wants a long engagement. How long is long? A year?”

  “That’s too long,” James said with feeling.

  “Six months?”

  He hesitated. “That’ll make it June.”

  “June’s a nice month,” Summer said without any real enthusiasm. “Will you want me to live with you in Seattle?”

  “Yes. Is that going to be possible?”

  “Of course.” She nodded vigorously.