“Not talking?”
“Jake?” He wasn’t a figment of her imagination? He was real?
“Last time I looked in the mirror,” he said. He wore jeans and a pullover shirt. The casual attire showed off his broad shoulders, flat belly. She skimmed her gaze down his long legs. A small duffel bag lay at his feet.
“What are you doing here?” Greedily Kerry looked at him, her heart thumping hard in her chest, her palms growing damp. She stepped closer until she felt the warmth from his body. Until she breathed in the scent of his aftershave. Her stomach dropped like a roller coaster and she just stared at him. The words of their last meeting echoed in her mind.
“I came to see you.”
“In New York?”
“That’s where you are. I went to your aunt’s house on Saturday and Sally told me you had returned to New York.”
“It’s Tuesday,” she said, trying to make sense of his being here.
“I had to make arrangements at the office yesterday. Are you going to invite me inside?”
Warily she watched him. “Why?”
“I want to talk to you.”
The stubborn set to his jaw warned her what he had to say probably wasn’t good.
“About what?” she asked suspiciously.
“Inside?”
“Okay.” She stepped around him and unlocked her door. When she entered, she looked around at the shambles. She wished he’d seen the apartment when it had been tidy. It had been warm and welcoming and perfectly suited to her. Now it looked as if a hurricane had blown through.
She raked her fingers through her hair. She had not put on any makeup that morning, just pulled on her jeans and top and set to work. So much for appearing feminine and ladylike. She crossed into the small living room and turned to watch Jake.
He looked around the apartment and dropped his bag by the door. Shutting it, he leaned against it, his gaze moving to her.
“This is small. No wonder you thought the places in Charlotte were large.”
She shrugged. “Real estate is at a premium in Manhattan. I was lucky to be able to afford this place without having a roommate. Did you come all this way to see my apartment?”
“No, I came to see you.”
His gray eyes gazed into hers. Even from across the width of the room, Kerry felt their impact. Swallowing hard she gestured to the sofa. “Have a seat.” Say what you have to say and get out. How many times could she say goodbye?
Jake lifted the stack of pictures leaning against the sofa and moved them out of the way. “Housecleaning?”
Kerry shook her head and gingerly sat on the far edge of the sofa watching him cautiously. “Packing up. I found a place and a job in Charlotte,” she said.
“One we looked at?”
She shook her head.
He took a deep breath and looked around the room, then looked at her. Giving a halfhearted grin he tilted his head. “I thought I had practiced enough I could do this easily.”
Frowning, Kerry stared at him. “Do what?”
“Apologize first. I think I jumped to some conclusions the other night. But I’ve had a lot of time to think about things over the last week and I need to get everything squared away.”
He fell silent and Kerry waited. Was she supposed to say something at this point? “Like what?” she blurted out when she could stand the suspense no longer.
“When taking on a new client, or a new case, I make sure I know all the facts. I question, listen, analyze and get as complete a picture of the situation as I can. It never pays to jump to conclusions without knowing all the facts. But I did with you. And I think I owe it to both of us to remedy that.”
“Jake, you don’t owe me anything. We had a few dates, shared some time together. You don’t want to do that any more. End of discussion.”
“Maybe you’re jumping to conclusions,” he said. “You look as if you’re going to fall off the edge of the sofa.”
Moving to sit more fully on the cushions, Kerry couldn’t relax—too aware of Jake’s presence so close to her, of the scent of his aftershave which evoked deep memories of his kisses, the feel of his thick hair beneath her fingers, the sensations his lips brought when they brushed against hers, or nibbled against her neck, or her cheek.
He moved until his knee pushed against her leg, one hand stretching out along the back until his fingers could brush her shoulder.
Resisting the urge to jump up and put the room between them, Kerry took a deep breath. “What conclusions am I jumping to?” she asked, trying to concentrate on the conversation. At a total loss as to why he really had come, she wished he’d get to the point before she did something really stupid like throw herself into his arms and beg he kiss her senseless.
“That I knew what I was saying.”
“Huh?” Startled, Kerry stared at him.
“Tell me about the diary and the list I read at your aunt’s that night.”
“There’s not much to tell. Sally and Aunt Peggy found the journal when they cleaned out the attic last spring. It was written by my great-grandmother Megan when she turned eighteen. There is a lot of family information, she was a wonderful writer. And her handwriting’s so clear it’s easy to read.” Kerry trailed off.
“And the list?”
Taking a deep breath, she looked at her fingers, twisting them in her lap. “Megan was interested in a particular young man she knew and her aunts and mother were giving her hints on how to conduct herself as she and this young man got to know each other better. She called it her recipe to find the perfect husband. I told Sally and she wanted to know specifics about Megan’s recipe, so I copied down what I could remember.” Daring a glance at Jake, she knew she had his full attention.
“So were you trying them out on me?”
“Sort of. But it started by accident. And if you had stopped to think about it, the list is innocuous. Really common-sense suggestions. I guess for Megan they were new and wonderful, but I’m a lot older than Megan was when she wrote that journal, and I’ve heard most of these suggestions before. Only I guess we forget the old ways sometimes in striving to be on the forefront of things.”
“A recipe for a husband? You’re looking for a husband and thought why not give old Jake Mitchell a try?”
His voice was low, even. Was he mad?
“Not exactly. Actually you were my practice guy.”
“Practice guy?” It was his turn to look startled. “What do you mean?”
“Well, if the suggestions worked with a hard case like you, they’d surely work with a different man if I found someone I wanted to marry.”
“And it didn’t worry you to toy with a man’s affections?”
She laughed. “Jake—you’ve never let anyone toy with you since you were a kid. And as cynical as you are about relationships and women, I knew there was no worry about hurting you.” Only herself when she was foolish enough to fall in love again.
“There you go jumping to conclusions again. You’d never make a good litigation attorney.”
“Well, darn.”
His hand slid down her arm and captured hers. Threading his fingers through hers, he rested their linked hands on his thigh. Kerry’s heart rate exploded, raced. What was Jake doing?
“I’m glad you got a job in Charlotte,” he said slowly, his thumb tracing random patterns on the back of her hand.
“You are? Why?”
“Makes it easier.”
“Makes what easier?”
“Courting.”
“Courting?” Had she heard him correctly? Jake talking about courting? Her?
“As you said, we are always in such a rush we seem to forget the old-fashioned way of doing things. Maybe that’s what we need here.”
“What we need here is some clarification of what you’re talking about.” And quickly, before she lost all sense of reason. His thumb was driving her crazy, her heart was about to pound out of her chest and the impulse to scoot over and lean against the man was s
o strong she marveled she could resist.
“For a week I had to watch you go out with every guy in West Bend.”
“Carl and Peter hardly comprise every guy in West Bend.”
“Doesn’t matter, seemed like it at the time.”
“Oh?” That raised interesting thoughts. Had Jake been jealous?
“And while waiting for you to come home each night, I had plenty of time to think. To think and consider the interesting ideas you raised. Maybe there was more to my family breakup than I knew. Maybe my father played as big a part in it as my mother. And then I discovered it no longer mattered. I’m not my father and you are certainly not my mother.”
Kerry blinked. She was getting confused again. What did his parents have to do with courting? “Can you get to the courting part again?” she asked, her skin tingling from his touch, her internal temperature rising.
Jake smiled and raised their linked hands, kissing the back of hers. “I want to court you, Kerry.” He turned her hand over and kissed the pulse in her wrist. “I want to marry you, Kerry.” Releasing her hand, he placed a warm kiss in the palm. “I want you to live with me forever and never leave.” Quizzically he looked at her.
The smile was tentative, and melted her heart. His eyes were warm with love yet hesitant as if he was still unsure. How could the man ever doubt it for an instant?
Tears gathered and slipped over her cheeks.
“Don’t cry,” he exclaimed, drawing her into his arms and hugging her tightly. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. If you don’t want to marry me, that’s okay. No, it’s not, but I’ll learn to live with it. Kerry, don’t be unhappy.”
“Silly,” she said against his neck, her arms creeping up to encircle him, hold him tightly against her as she closed her eyes and let the emotions flood through her. “I love you, Jake. I’ve loved you since I was fifteen years old. Through all the years, I’ve never stopped. I thought I could go on, but this summer sure made me question that. I love you so much!”
“Thank God. I love you, Kerry. I can’t say I’ve loved you since you were fifteen, but it’s been a long time. Only I was too caught up in the idea all women were like my mother I couldn’t bear to take the chance.”
“And now you don’t feel like that?”
“Not like I used to. What I feel for you is so strong, I’m willing to take a chance. It’s better than living alone and imagining you with someone else, making love, having babies, and sharing your life. I want that all for myself. And if you think you’ve loved me all this time, I doubt you will up and leave any day.”
“I’m never leaving!” she vowed, leaning back to gaze into his eyes. But only for a second before his mouth came down on hers with a searing kiss that immediately caused every other kiss to fade in comparison. This was Jake, the man she loved, the man who loved her! Kerry’s heart was full to overflowing. Together they’d put down roots so deep nothing could ever tear them out. And with their love, they would find the happiness and delight in sharing their lives that others in her family had.
When the kiss ended, he looked into her eyes. “So how long do I have to court you before I can ask you to be my wife?”
“I don’t mind a really short courtship,” she said softly.
“How short?”
“If we count all the time we’ve already spent together, I’d say we’ve done it,” she said daringly. Treasuring the look of love and devotion in his eyes, she wished she could capture the moment forever. But Kerry knew she’d never forget a single second of this day.
“I love you, Kerry Elizabeth Kincaid. Will you marry me?”
“I would be so honored to accept, John Charles Mitchell. Thank you for asking me!”
“Ever the proper old-fashioned girl,” he said as he kissed her again.
They put through a call to Greece, sharing their happy news with Kerry’s parents. Two brief calls—first to Florida and then to California informed Jake’s father and brother. Kerry called Sally next, excited to share her happiness.
“Wow, I thought one of the tenets from Great-grandma Megan was a leopard couldn’t change his spots—what changed Jake?” Sally asked after extending her best wishes to her cousin.
“Love, I guess,” Kerry answered, glowing with that emotion herself.
“Well your timing is great, I have just the wedding present for you.”
“What’s that?”
“Mom called yesterday and I asked her about the journal and Great-grandma Megan. She told me Megan and Frederick had fifty-two happy years together before he died. And where to find a copy of their photograph from their fiftieth anniversary party. I’ll have it enlarged and give to you so you and Jake will have something to live up to.”
“It’s nice to know how that story turned out. And to know mine will be the same.”
“Sure, cousin?”
“As sure as love,” Kerry said, reaching out to touch the man who would share her life. Maybe she should start her own journal. She could open with…and the greatest of these is love.
ISBN: 978-1-4603-6534-2
THE HUSBAND CAMPAIGN
First North American Publication 2001.
Copyright © 1999 by Barbara McMahon.
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