Ready for Marriage

by Debbie Macomber

  “It…it just isn’t,” was the best she could do.

  “Am I too demanding?”

  “No,” she admitted reluctantly.

  “Unreasonable?”

  She lowered her gaze and shook her head.

  “Then what is it?” he demanded.

  She gritted her teeth. “I want you to know that I’ve never made a personal phone call from this office during working hours.”

  “True, but you’ve received them.”

  “I assured you Gary wouldn’t be phoning me again.”

  “But he did,” Evan inserted smoothly.

  “He most certainly did not,” she said righteously.

  “Mary Jo,” he said with exaggerated patience, as though he were speaking to a child, “I heard you arranging a luncheon date with him myself.”

  “That was Jessica. Damian mentioned running into me at the office and she called and suggested we meet for lunch.”

  “Jessica,” Evan muttered. He grew strangely quiet.

  “I think it might be best if I sought employment elsewhere,” Mary Jo concluded. “Naturally I’ll be happy to train my replacement.” She turned abruptly and started to leave.

  “Mary Jo.” He sighed heavily. “Listen, you’re right. I’ve behaved like a jerk all day. I apologize. Your personal life, your phone calls—it’s none of my business. I promise you this won’t happen again.”

  Mary Jo paused, unsure what to think. She certainly hadn’t expected an apology.

  “I want you to stay on,” he added. “You’ve been doing an excellent job, and I’ve been unfair. Will you?”

  She should refuse, walk out while she had the excuse to do so. Leave without regrets. But she couldn’t. She simply couldn’t.

  She offered him a shaky smile and nodded. “You know, you’re not such a curmudgeon to work for, after all.”

  “I’m not?” He sounded downright cheerful. “This calls for a celebration, don’t you think? Do you still enjoy sailing as much as you used to?”

  She hadn’t been on the water since the last time they’d taken out his sailboat. “I think so,” she murmured, head spinning at his sudden reversal.

  “Great. Run home and change clothes and meet me at the marina in an hour. We’ll take out my boat and discover if you’ve still got your sea legs.”

  The prospect of spending time with Evan was too wonderful to turn down. For her sanity’s sake, she should think twice before accepting the invitation, but she didn’t. Whatever the price, she’d willingly pay it—later.

  “Remember when I taught you to sail?” Evan asked, his eyes smiling.

  Mary Jo couldn’t keep herself from smiling back. He’d been infinitely patient with her. She came from a long line of landlubbers and was convinced she’d never become a sailor.

  “I still remember the first time we pulled out of the marina with me at the helm. I rammed another sailboat,” she reminded him, and they both laughed.

  “You’ll meet me?” Evan asked, oddly intense after their moment of lightness.

  Mary Jo doubted she could have refused him anything. “Just don’t ask me to motor the boat out of the slip.”

  “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

  A few hours earlier, she’d believed she couldn’t last another hour working with Evan. Now here she was, agreeing to meet him after hours for a sailing lesson.

  Rushing home, she threw off her clothes, not bothering to hang them up the way she usually did. She didn’t stay longer than the few minutes it took to pull on a pair of jeans, a sweatshirt and her deck shoes. Any time for reflection, and Mary Jo was afraid she’d talk herself out of going. She wanted these few hours with Evan so much it hurt.

  Right now she refused to think about anything except the evening ahead of them. For this one night she wanted to put the painful past behind them—wipe out the memory of the last three lonely years.

  She could see Evan waiting for her when she arrived at the marina. The wind had turned brisk, perfect for sailing. The scent of salt and sea was carried on the breeze. Grabbing her purse, she trotted across the parking lot. Evan reached for her hand as if doing so was an everyday occurrence. Unthinkingly, Mary Jo gave it to him.

  Both seemed to realize in the same instant what they’d done. Evan turned to her, his eyes questioning, as if he expected her to remove her hand from his. She met his gaze evenly and offered him a bright smile.

  “I brought us something to eat,” he said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starved.”

  Mary Jo was about to make some comment about his not eating an adequate lunch, when she remembered he’d been out with Catherine Moore. Mary Jo wondered if the other woman was as elegant as her name suggested.

  Evan leapt aboard, then helped her onto the small deck. He went below to retrieve the jib and mainsail, and when he emerged Mary Jo asked, “Do you want me to rig the jib sail?”

  He seemed surprised and pleased by the offer.

  “That was the first thing you taught me, remember? I distinctly recall this long lecture about the importance of the captain and the responsibilities of the crew. Naturally, you were the distinguished skipper and I was the lowly crew.”

  Evan laughed and the sound floated out to sea on the tail end of a breeze. “You remember all that, do you?”

  “Like it was yesterday.”

  “Then have a go,” he said, motioning toward the mast. But he didn’t actually leave all the work to her. They both moved forward and attached the stay for the jib to the mast, working together as if they’d been partners for years. When they were finished, Evan motored the sleek sailboat out of the slot and toward the open waters of Boston Harbor.

  For all her earlier claims about not being a natural sailor, Mary Jo was still astonished by how much she’d enjoyed her times on the water. Her fondest memories of Evan had revolved around the hours spent aboard his boat. There was something wildly romantic about sailing together, gliding across the open water with the wind in their faces. She would always treasure those times with Evan.

  Once they were safely out of the marina, they raised the mainsail and sliced through the emerald-green waters toward Massachusetts Bay.

  “So you’ve been talking to Jessica, have you?” he asked with a casualness that didn’t deceive her.

  “Mostly I’ve been working for you,” she countered. “That doesn’t leave me much time for socializing.”

  The wind whipped Evan’s hair about his face, and he squinted into the sun. From the way he pinched his lips together, she guessed he was thinking about her date with Gary that weekend. She considered telling him it was over between her and Gary, but before she’d figured out a way of bringing up the subject, Evan spoke again.

  “There’s a bucket of fried chicken below,” he mentioned with a knowing grin, “if you’re hungry, that is.”

  “Fried chicken,” she repeated. She had no idea why sailing made her ravenous. And Evan was well aware of her weakness for southern-fried chicken.

  “Made with a secret recipe of nine special herbs and spices? Plus coleslaw and french fries?”

  Evan wiggled his eyebrows and smiled wickedly. “I seem to remember you had a fondness for a certain brand of chicken. There’s a bottle of Chardonnay to go with it.”

  Mary Jo didn’t need a second invitation to hurry below. She loaded up their plates, collected the bottle and two wineglasses and carefully carried everything up from the galley.

  Sitting next to Evan, her plate balanced on her knees, she ate her dinner, savoring every bite. She must have been more enthusiastic than she realized, because she noticed him studying her. With a chicken leg poised in front of her mouth, she looked back at him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He grinned. “Nothing. I appreciate a woman who enjoys her food, that’s all.”

  “I’ll have you know I skipped lunch.” But she wasn’t going to tell him it was because every time she thought about him with Catherine Moore, she lost her appetite.

&n
bsp; “I hope your employer values your dedication.”

  “I hope he does, too.”

  When they’d finished, Mary Jo carried their plates below and packed everything neatly away.

  She returned and sat next to Evan. They finished their wine, then he allowed her a turn at the helm. Almost before she was aware of it, his arms were around her. She stood there, hardly breathing, then allowed herself to lean back against his chest. It was as if three painful years had been obliterated and they were both so much in love they couldn’t see anything beyond the stars in their eyes.

  Those had been innocent days for Mary Jo, that summer when she’d actually believed that an electrician’s daughter could fit into the world of a man as rich and influential as Evan Dryden.

  If she closed her eyes, she could almost forget everything that had happened since…

  The wind blew more strongly and dusk settled over the water. Mary Jo realized with intense regret that it was time for them to head back to the marina. Evan seemed to feel the same unwillingness to return to land—and reality.

  They were both quiet as they docked. Working together, they removed and stowed the sails.

  Once everything was locked up, Evan walked her to the dimly lighted parking area. Mary Jo stood by the driver’s side of her small car, reluctant to leave.

  “I had a wonderful time,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

  “I had a good time, too. Perhaps too good.”

  Mary Jo knew what he was saying; she felt it herself. It would be so easy to forget the past and pick up where they’d left off. Without much encouragement, she could easily find herself in his arms.

  When he’d held her those few minutes on the boat, she’d experienced a feeling of warmth and completeness. Of happiness.

  Sadness settled over her now, the weight of it almost unbearable. “Thank you again.” She turned away and with a trembling hand inserted the car key into the lock. She wished Evan would leave before she did something ridiculous, like break into tears.

  “Would you come sailing with me again some time?” he asked, and Mary Jo could have sworn he sounded tentative, uncertain. Which was ridiculous. Evan was one of the most supremely confident men she’d ever known.

  Mary Jo waited for an objection to present itself. Several did. But not a single one of them seemed worth worrying about. Not tonight…

  “I’d enjoy that very much.” It was odd to be carrying on a conversation with her back to him, but she didn’t dare turn around for fear she’d throw herself into his arms.

  “Soon,” he suggested, his voice low.

  “How soon?”

  “Next Saturday afternoon.”

  She swallowed against the constriction in her throat and nodded. “What time?”

  “Noon. Meet me here, and we’ll have lunch first.”

  “All right.”

  From the light sound of his footsteps, she knew he’d moved away. “Evan,” she called, whirling around, her heart racing.

  He turned toward her and waited for her to speak.

  “Are you sure?” Mary Jo felt as if her heart hung in the balance.

  His face was half-hidden by shadows, but she could see the smile that slowly grew. “I’m very sure.”

  Mary Jo’s hands shook as she climbed into her car. It was happening all over again and she was letting it happen. She was trembling so badly she could hardly fasten her seat belt.

  What did she hope to prove? She already knew that nothing she could do would make her the right woman for Evan. Eventually she would have to face the painful truth—again—and walk away from him. Eventually she would have to look him in the eye and tell him she couldn’t be part of his life.

  Mary Jo didn’t sleep more than fifteen minutes at a stretch that night. When the alarm sounded, her eyes burned, her head throbbed and she felt as lifeless as the dish of last week’s pasta still sitting in her fridge.

  She climbed out of bed, showered and put on the first outfit she pulled out of her closet. Then she downed a cup of coffee and two aspirin.

  Evan was already at the office when she arrived. “Good morning,” he said cheerfully as she walked in the door.

  “Morning.”

  “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

  Mary Jo hadn’t noticed. She sat down at her desk and stared at the blank computer screen.

  Evan brought her a cup of coffee and she blinked up at him. “I thought I was the one who was supposed to make the coffee.”

  “I got here a few minutes early,” he explained.

  “Drink up. You look like you could use it.”

  Despite her misery, she found the strength to grin. “I could.”

  “What’s the matter? Bad night?”

  She cupped the steaming mug with both hands.

  “Something like that.” She couldn’t very well confess he was the reason she hadn’t slept. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll be fine.” A few minutes to scrounge up the courage to tell him she had other plans for Saturday and couldn’t meet him, after all. A few minutes to control the searing disappointment. A few minutes to remind herself she could survive without him. The past three years had proved that.

  “Let me know if there’s anything I can get you.”

  She was about to suggest an appointment with a psychiatrist, then changed her mind. Evan would think she was joking; Mary Jo wasn’t so sure it was a joke. Who else would put herself through this kind of torture?

  “I’ve already sorted through the mail,” Evan announced. “There’s something here from Adison Investments.”

  That bit of information perked Mary Jo up. “What did they say?”

  “I haven’t read it yet, but as soon as I do, I’ll let you know. I’m hoping my letter persuaded Adison to agree to a refund.”

  “That’s what you hope, not what you expect.”

  Evan’s dark eyes were serious. “Yes.”

  He returned to his office but was back out almost immediately. Shaking his head, he handed Mary Jo the brief letter. She read the two curt paragraphs and felt a sinking sense of discouragement. She had to hand it to Bill Adison. He was smooth. Believable. He had to be, otherwise her father would never have trusted him. Adison reiterated that he had a signed contract and that the initial investment wouldn’t be returned until the terms of their agreement had been fully met. Never mind that he hadn’t upheld his side of the contract.

  “Do you want to make an appointment with my parents?” she asked, knowing Evan would want to discuss the contents of the letter with her mother and father.

  Evan took several moments to consider the question. “No. I think it’d be better for me to stop off at their house myself and explain it to them. Less formal that way.”

  “Fine,” she said, praying he wouldn’t suggest Sunday. If he arrived Sunday afternoon, one or more of her family members would be sure to tell him she’d broken up with Gary. No doubt her niece Sally would blurt out that Evan could marry her now.

  “I should probably talk to them today or tomorrow.”

  Mary Jo nodded, trying to conceal her profound relief.

  “Why don’t we plan on stopping by this evening after work?”

  The “we” part didn’t escape her.

  “I’ll call my folks and tell them,” she said, figuring she’d set a time with them and then—later—make some plausible excuse for not joining Evan. Like a previous date. Or an emergency appointment with a manicurist. She’d break one of her nails and…

  She was being ridiculous. She should be there. She would be there. She owed it to her parents. And it was business, after all, not a social excursion with Evan. Or a real date. There was nothing to fear.

  Mary Jo had just arrived at this conclusion when Evan called her into his office.

  “Feeling better?” he asked, closing the door behind her.

  “A little.” She managed a tremulous smile.

  He stared at her for an uncomfortable moment. She would have walked around him and seated her
self, but he blocked the way.

  “I know what might help,” he said after a moment.

  Thinking he was going to suggest aspirin, Mary Jo opened her mouth to tell him she’d already taken some. Before she could speak, he removed the pen and pad from her unresisting fingers and set them aside.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, frowning in confusion.

  He grinned almost boyishly. “Mary Jo, I am, as they say in the movies, about to kiss you senseless.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “YOU’RE GOING TO KISS ME?” Mary Jo’s heart lurched as Evan drew her into his arms. His breath felt warm against her face, and a wonderful, wicked feeling spread through her. She sighed and closed her eyes.

  Evan eased his mouth over hers and it felt so natural, so familiar. So right.

  He kissed her again, and tears gathered in Mary Jo’s eyes. He wrapped her tightly in his arms and took several long, deep breaths.

  “I wanted to do this last night,” he whispered.

  She’d wanted him to kiss her then, too, yet—paradoxically—she’d been grateful he hadn’t. It occurred to her now that delaying this moment could have been a mistake. They’d both thought about it, wondered how it would be, anticipated being in each other’s arms again. And after all that intense speculation, their kiss might have disappointed them both.

  It hadn’t.

  Nevertheless, Mary Jo was relieved when the phone rang. Evan cursed under his breath. “We need to talk about this,” he muttered, still holding her.

  The phone pealed a second time.

  “We’ll talk later,” she promised quickly.

  Evan released her, and she leapt for the telephone on his desk. Thankfully, the call was for Evan. Thankfully, it wasn’t Jessica. Or her mother. Or Gary.

  Mary Jo left his office and sank slowly into her chair. Closing her eyes, she tried to make sense of what had happened.

  All too soon Evan was back. He sat on the edge of her desk. “All right,” he said, his eyes as bright and happy as a schoolboy’s on the first day of summer vacation. “We’re going to have this out once and for all.”

  “Have this out?”

  “I don’t know what happened between you and the man you fell in love with three years ago. But apparently it didn’t work out, which is fine with me.”