The Manning Grooms

  “Charlotte?” Jason murmured when she returned to bed. He reached for her and without a second’s hesitation she slipped into his embrace.

  “There’s a storm,” she whispered.

  His smile was lazy, sleepy. “So I hear. Are you frightened?”

  “Not anymore.” There’d been a time when she would’ve been terrified, but that time was long past. She felt intensely alive, completely calm. The dangerous storms were gone from her life. She’d survived the raging wind, the drenching rain, the booming thunder. That was all in the past. Her future was holding her in his arms.

  She sighed, cuddling close to her husband, suffused with a feeling of profound joy.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  “I know,” he said without opening his eyes. “Believe me, I know.”

  She slid her arms up his shoulders and brought her mouth to his. He welcomed her kiss, which was slow and deep. Hot excitement poured into her blood. Soon the kiss was no longer slow, but hungry, needy.

  Charlotte felt Jason’s chest lift with a shuddering intake of breath.

  “I want to make love,” she said against his lips.

  Jason went still. His hand, which was sliding up her thigh, stopped at her hip.

  “You’re sure?”

  It was the first time she’d ever made the request, the first time she’d ever initiated their lovemaking.

  “Yes.”

  Lightning briefly brightened the room, shadows frolicked and danced against the walls, followed by the roar of thunder. The bedroom vibrated with sound.

  Jason, ever-sensitive to her moods, paused, but she refused to allow any hesitation. She drew his mouth down to hers and they kissed, until Charlotte’s whole body seemed to throb with excitement.

  Gently Jason removed her nightgown, pulling it over her head. He’d awakened her to an entire world of sensual pleasure in the months since their marriage, a world she wanted to explore now.

  He hungrily covered her mouth with his own and her head spun, her nails digging into his back. Abruptly she broke off the kiss, her shoulders heaving. “Jason, please…I want you.”

  He didn’t need any further encouragement….

  “Okay, so far?” he asked sometime later.

  “Oh, yes,” she whispered, smiling her assurance. The pleasure was so keen it was almost beyond bearing.

  Lightning flashed and thunder rolled, punctuating their lovemaking. “Jason…oh, Jase,” she cried out, her voice a trembling wail of pleasure as her senses caught fire, exploding into a mindless madness. Her body shuddered as she gave herself to the storm, to her husband, to the night.

  Afterward, when he, too, had reached completion, they were both panting. Jason gathered her in his arms, and they were silent, words between them unnecessary.

  Eventually their breathing steadied.

  “I still have trouble believing how good this is,” Charlotte whispered. “Making love, I mean.”

  Jason kissed the crown of her head. “It always has been.”

  “Not in the beginning.”

  “It was,” he said. “Because you let me try to prove how much I love you.”

  Charlotte was quiet for a moment as she absorbed his words. Their first attempts at making love, on their honeymoon, had left her frustrated and in tears. She was convinced Jason had made a terrible mistake in marrying her. He wouldn’t allow her to criticize herself, though. His patience astonished her and gave her the courage to keep trying.

  She’d struggled with her inadequacies, silently condemning herself, but on the seventh night of their stay, they’d broken through the restraints and made beautiful, intoxicating love. Charlotte had wanted everything to be magically different from then on, but that would have been unrealistic. Her fears were unpredictable and continued to be for weeks. But now, four months after their wedding, loving Jason was the most incredible experience of her life.

  Tears slipped down Charlotte’s cheeks as she recalled the first weeks of their marriage—his gentleness, his unwillingness to give up, his love.

  “You’re crying,” he whispered, his lips against her hair.

  “You’re not supposed to notice.”

  “But I have. Are you going to tell me why?”

  Emotion clogged her throat as she struggled to hold back the tears. “In a minute.”

  Jason’s brow creased with a thoughtful frown. “Is it something that came from your meeting with Bill?”

  Bill was her counselor; she saw him twice a week. She shook her head. “You promise you won’t laugh?”

  “I’ll try.”

  “I’m crying because I’m so happy.”

  “Happy,” Jason repeated slowly. “But if you cry when you’re happy, what do you do when you’re sad?”

  “Cry,” she returned with irrefutable logic. “Now aren’t you going to ask me why I’m so happy?”

  “I don’t need to. It’s obvious.”

  “It is?”

  “Of course. You’re married to me.”

  Charlotte laughed at his mock arrogance. “Carrie cried, too.”

  “Carrie’s that happy?”

  “It’s the reason she’s spending the night with a friend. I wanted the evening alone with you.”

  Jason snickered. “If that’s the case, why’d you go to bed at six-thirty?”

  “I didn’t plan that,” she murmured, “but I think it’s going to be pretty much the norm for the next few months. I couldn’t seem to get enough sleep when I was pregnant with Carrie, either.”

  “Cute, Charlotte, very cute. You couldn’t possibly be—” He stopped cold, his eyes widening.

  “It’s true,” she said, pressing her head to his chest. She smiled as the erratic beat of his heart sounded in her ear.

  “How far…?”

  “A month.”

  He shook his head as though in a trance.

  “It was inevitable, you know,” she told him, happiness spilling from her heart. “How could I not be pregnant? We’ve been making love for months. And we decided not to use birth control for this very reason.”

  “Yes, but…”

  “When the lovemaking’s this good, doesn’t it make sense that the result will be equally beautiful?”

  Jason kissed her again, his mouth worshipping hers. “I love you so much.”

  Charlotte sighed and closed her eyes, utterly content. She’d conquered her fears, begun to heal her pain. She’d survived the memories and triumphed over her past.

  The future stretched before her, filled with bright promise. She wasn’t going to miss a single moment.

  SAME TIME, NEXT YEAR

  To Beth Huizenga, my friend.

  I admire your strength, your romantic heart and your love of life.

  Prologue

  New Year’s Eve—Las Vegas, Nevada

  James had been warned. Ryan Kilpatrick, a longtime friend and fellow attorney, had advised him to stay clear of the downtown area tonight. The crowd that gathered on Fremont Street between Main and Las Vegas Boulevard was said to be close to twenty thousand.

  But James couldn’t resist. Although he had a perfectly good view of the festivities from his hotel room window, he found the enthusiasm of the crowd contagious. For reasons he didn’t care to examine, he wanted to be part of all this craziness.

  The noise on the street was earsplitting. Everyone seemed to be shouting at once. The fireworks display wasn’t scheduled to begin for another thirty minutes, and James couldn’t see how there was room for a single other person.

  A large number of law-enforcement officers roamed the area, confiscating beer bottles and handing out paper cups. A series of discordant blasts from two-foot-long horns made James cringe. Many of the participants wore decorative hats handed out by the casinos and blew paper noisemakers that uncurled with each whistle.

  James remained on the outskirts of the throng, silently enjoying himself despite the noise and confusion. If he were younger, he might have joined in the festivities.
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  Thirty-six wasn’t old, he reminded himself, but he looked and felt closer to forty. Partners in prestigious law firms didn’t wear dunce caps and blow noisemakers. He was too conservative—some might say stodgy—for such nonsense, but it was New Year’s Eve and staying in his room alone held little appeal.

  Impatient for the fireworks display, the crowd started chanting. James couldn’t make out the words, but the message was easy enough to understand. It amused him that the New Year’s celebration would be taking place three hours early in order to coordinate with the one in New York’s Times Square. Apparently no one seemed to care about the time difference.

  As if in response to the demand, a rocket shot into the air from the roof of the Plaza Hotel. The night sky brightened as a starburst exploded. The crowd cheered wildly.

  Although he’d intended to stand on the sidelines, James found himself unwillingly thrust deeper and deeper into the crowd. Luckily he wasn’t prone to claustrophobia. People crushed him from all sides. At another time, in another place, he might have objected, but the joy of the celebration overrode any real complaint.

  It was then that he saw her.

  She was struggling to move away from the crowd, with little success. James wasn’t sure what had originally attracted his attention, but once he noticed her, he couldn’t stop watching. Joyous shouts and cheers rose in the tightly packed crowd, but the young woman didn’t share the excitement. She looked as if she’d rather be anywhere else in the world.

  She was fragile, petite and delicate in build. He saw that she fought against the crowd but was trapped despite her best efforts.

  James soon found himself gravitating in her direction. Within minutes she was pressed up against him, chin tucked into her neck as she tried to avoid eye contact.

  “Excuse me,” he said.

  She glanced up at him and attempted a smile. “I was the one who bumped into you.”

  He was struck by how beautiful she was. Her soft brown hair curved gently at her shoulders, and he was sure he’d never seen eyes more dark or soulful. He was mesmerized by her eyes—and by the pain he read in their depths.

  “Are you all right?” he felt obliged to ask.

  She nodded and bit her lip. He realized how pale she was and wondered if she was about to faint.

  “Let me help.” He wasn’t some knight who rescued damsels in distress. Life was filled with enough difficulties without taking on another person’s troubles. Yet he couldn’t resist helping her.

  She answered him with a quick nod of her head.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he suggested.

  “I’ve been trying to do exactly that for the last twenty minutes.” Her voice was tight.

  James wasn’t sure he could do any better, but he planned to try. Taking her by the hand, he slipped around a couple kissing passionately, then past a group of teens with dueling horns, the discordant sound piercing the night. Others appeared more concerned with catching the ashes raining down from the fireworks display than with where they stood.

  Perhaps it was his age or the fact that he sounded authoritative, but James managed to maneuver them through the crush. Once they were off Fremont Street, the crowd thinned considerably.

  James led her to a small park with a gazebo that afforded them some privacy. She sank onto the bench as if her legs had suddenly given out from under her. He saw that she was trembling and sat next to her, hoping his presence would offer her some solace.

  The fireworks burst to life overhead.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. She stood, teetered, then abruptly sat back down.

  “You want to talk about it?” he asked.

  “Not really.” Having said that, she promptly burst into tears. Covering her face with both hands, she gently rocked back and forth.

  Not knowing what to do, James put his arms around her and held her against him. She felt warm and soft in his embrace.

  “I feel like such a fool,” she said between sobs. “How could I have been so stupid?”

  “We’re often blind to what we don’t want to see.”

  “Yes, but…Oh, I should’ve known. I should’ve guessed there was someone else. Everything makes sense now…I couldn’t have been any blinder.”

  He shrugged, murmuring something noncommittal.

  She straightened, and James gave her his pressed handkerchief. She unfolded it, wiped away the tears and then clutched it in both hands.

  “I’m sorry,” she choked out.

  “Talking might help,” he said.

  She took several moments to mull this over. “I found him with another woman,” she finally said. “He wanted me to come to Vegas with him after Christmas, and I couldn’t get time off from work. So I said he should go and have fun with his friends. Then…then I was able to leave early this afternoon. I wanted to surprise him on New Year’s Eve and I drove straight here. I surprised him, all right.”

  And got the shock of her life, too, James mused.

  “They were in bed together.” Her words were barely audible, as if the pain was so intense she found it difficult to speak. “I ran away and he came after me and…and tried to explain. He’s been seeing her for some time…. He didn’t mean to fall in love with her, or so he claims.” She laughed and hiccuped simultaneously.

  “You were engaged?” he asked, noting the diamond on her left hand.

  She nodded, and her gaze fell to her left hand. She suddenly jerked off the diamond ring and shoved it into her purse. “Brett seemed distant in the last few months, but we’ve both been busy with the holidays. I noticed he didn’t seem too disappointed when I couldn’t get time off from work. Now I know why.”

  It was preferable to learn about her fiancé’s roving eye before she married him, but James didn’t offer platitudes. He hadn’t wanted to hear them himself.

  “The problem is, I really love him.” She shook almost uncontrollably. “I want to claw his eyes out, and yet I know I’ll always love him.”

  “Are you hoping to patch things up?”

  She raised her head. “No. It’s over. I told him that and I meant it. I could never trust him again, but you know what?” She hesitated and drew in a deep breath. “I think he was grateful when I broke the engagement. He doesn’t want me back—he wants her.” She stiffened, as if bracing herself against an attack.

  “It hurts right now, but it’ll get better in time,” James said, squeezing her hand.

  “No, it won’t,” she whispered. “It’ll never get better. I know it won’t.”

  James partially agreed with her. Part of him would always belong to Christy Manning. Even now, he had trouble remembering her married name. She wasn’t Christy Manning anymore, but Christy Franklin, and her husband was the sheriff of Custer County, Montana.

  “Yes, it will, but it’ll take a year,” James said briskly.

  “Not with me. I’ll never get over Brett.”

  “You believe that right now, because the pain’s so bad you can’t imagine it’ll ever go away, but it does, I promise you.”

  Slowly she turned to study him. “You know? It sounds as if you’re talking from experience.”

  He nodded. “Five years ago the woman I loved broke off our engagement.” He laughed derisively. “You see, there was a small problem. She married someone else while she was engaged to me.”

  “That’s terrible,” she said with a sigh of righteous indignation. “What kind of woman would do that?”

  “It’s not as bad as it sounds. You see, her parents are good friends of mine, and I realize now they pressured Christy into accepting my engagement ring. She was fond of me and agreed because she wanted to make her family happy. I don’t think she ever realized how much I loved her.”

  “Do you still love her?”

  It might have been a kindness to lie, but James found he couldn’t. “Yes, but not in the same way.”

  “Despite what I know, I can’t picture myself not loving Brett.” She straightened and wiped the tears from
her cheeks. “I suppose I should introduce myself since I’ve cried all over your shoulder. I’m Summer Lawton. From Anaheim.”

  “James Wilkens. Seattle.”

  They exchanged brief handshakes. Summer lowered her gaze. “I wish I could believe you.”

  “Believe me?”

  “That it’ll take a year to get over Brett. It doesn’t seem possible. We’ve been dating for nearly five years and got engaged six months ago. My whole life revolved around him.”

  At one time James’s life had revolved around Christy.

  “We were apart for less than a week,” Summer continued, “and I was so lonely, I practically went through contortions to get to Vegas just so we could be together tonight.”

  “The first three months are the most difficult,” he told her, remembering the weeks after the breakup with Christy. “Keep busy. The worst thing to do is stay at home and mope, although that’s exactly what you’ll want to do.”

  “You don’t understand,” she insisted. “I really love Brett.”

  “I really love Christy.”

  “It’s different for a man,” she said.

  “Is it really?” he countered. “A year,” he reiterated. “It’ll take a year, but by then you’ll have worked through the pain.”

  Her look revealed her doubt.

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “I just don’t think it’s possible. Not for me. You see, I’m not the type who falls in love at the drop of a hat. I gave everything I had to Brett. It’s like my whole world caved in and there’s nothing left to live for.”

  “Shall we test my theory?” he asked.

  “How?”

  “Meet me back here on New Year’s Eve, one year from tonight.”

  “Here? In this gazebo?”

  “That’s right,” he said. “Right here.”

  “Same time, same place, next year.”

  “Same time, same place, next year,” he echoed.

  One