The Manning Grooms

  “I’ll try and make it up to you,” James promised his father with a grin.

  Summer couldn’t remember ever being so hungry. She’d been with James a week and had settled so contentedly into her new life it was almost as if she’d always been there.

  “Would you like another piece of apple pie?” James asked. “Better yet, why don’t we buy the whole thing and take it home with us?”

  “Can we do that?” Summer was sure her appetite must be a source of embarrassment to him. They were at a sidewalk restaurant on the Seattle waterfront. Summer couldn’t decide between the French onion soup and the Cobb salad, so she’d ordered both. Then she’d topped off the meal with a huge slice of apple pie à la mode.

  “I’ll ask the waitress,” James said as though it was perfectly normal to order a whole pie for later.

  “Have I embarrassed you?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

  James’s mouth quivered. “No, but I will admit I’ve rarely seen anyone enjoy her food more.”

  “Oh, James, you have no idea how good it is to be able to eat and keep everything down. I felt a thousand times better this past week than I did the whole previous two months.”

  “Then Dad was right,” he said.

  “About what?”

  “The psychological effects of the pregnancy were taking their toll along with the physical. In other words, you were worried and making yourself more so. I could kick myself.”

  “Why?”

  “For not guessing. You have to forgive me, sweetheart, I’m new to this husband business.”

  “You’re forgiven.”

  “Just promise me one thing. Don’t keep any more secrets from me, all right?”

  She smiled. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

  “James?” A striking-looking couple approached their table.

  “Rich and Jamie Manning.” Sounding genuinely pleased, James stood and exchanged handshakes with the man. Then he turned to Summer. “These are good friends of mine, Rich and Jamie Manning. This is my wife, Summer.”

  “Your wife?” Rich repeated, doing a poor job of hiding his surprise. “When did this happen?”

  “Shortly after New Year’s,” James explained. “Would you care to join us?”

  “Unfortunately we can’t,” Rich said. “The babysitter’s waiting. But this is great news. I hope there’s a good reason I didn’t get a wedding invitation.”

  “A very good one.” James grinned. “I’ve been meaning to let everyone know. But Summer just moved here from California.”

  “Well, the word’s out now,” Jamie said, smiling at her. “Once Rich’s mother hears about it, she’ll want to throw a party in your honor.” Jamie and her husband shared a private, happy look.

  “I’d better call your parents before I alienate them completely,” James said.

  “I’ll be seeing you soon,” Rich said and patted James’s shoulder as he passed by. “Bye, Summer.”

  James was silent for a moment, and Summer wasn’t sure if he was glad or not that his friends had stopped to talk. She didn’t think he intended to keep their marriage a secret, yet he hadn’t made a point of introducing her around, either.

  “Is there a problem?” she asked.

  “No. It’s just that I was hoping to give you some time to regain your strength before you met my friends.”

  Summer’s gaze followed the couple as they made their way toward the front of the restaurant.

  “They’re happy, aren’t they?”

  “Rich and Jamie?”

  Summer nodded.

  “Yes.” He relaxed in his chair. “They came to see me a few years back with perhaps the most unusual request of my career.” He smiled, and Summer guessed he must’ve been amused at the time, as well.

  “What did they want?”

  “They asked me to draw up a paper for a marriage of convenience.”

  “Really.” That seemed odd to Summer. Although she’d just met the couple, it was clear to her that they were in love.

  “They’d come up with some harebrained scheme to have a baby together—by artificial insemination. Rich would be the sperm donor.”

  “Did they have a baby?”

  “Yes, but Bethany was conceived the old-fashioned way without a single visit to a fertility clinic.”

  Summer shook her head. “This doesn’t make any sense to me. Why would two healthy people go to such lengths to have a child? Especially when they’re perfectly capable of doing things…the usual way?”

  “It does sound silly, doesn’t it?”

  “Frankly, yes.”

  James leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table. “Jamie and Rich had been friends for years. Since their high school days, if I recall correctly. Jamie couldn’t seem to fall in love with the right kind of man and, after a couple of disastrous relationships, she decided she was giving up dating altogether.”

  “I love the tricks life plays on people,” Summer said, licking melted ice cream off her spoon. She looked across the table at the remnants on James’s plate. “Are you going to eat that?” she asked.

  He pushed the plate toward her.

  “Thanks,” she said, and blew him a kiss. “Go on,” she encouraged, scooping up the last bits of pie and ice cream. “What happened?”

  “Apparently Jamie was comfortable with her decision, except that she wanted a child. That’s when she approached Rich about being the sperm donor.”

  “Just between friends, that sort of thing?”

  “Exactly. At any rate, Rich didn’t think it was such a bad idea himself, the not-marrying part. He’d had his own ups and downs in the relationship department. But the more he thought about her suggestion, the more problems he had with being nothing more than a sperm donor. He suggested they get married so their child could have his name. He also wanted a say in the baby’s upbringing.”

  “And Jamie agreed to all this?”

  “She wanted a child.”

  “So they asked you to draw up a contract or something?”

  “Yes, but I have to tell you I had my reservations.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “They have two children now.”

  “Well, this so-called marriage of convenience certainly worked out,” Summer told him.

  “It sure did.”

  While she was looking around the table for anything left to eat, she noticed that James was studying her. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “A thousand times better.” She smiled and lowered her voice so he alone could hear. “If what you’re really asking is if I’m well enough to make love, the answer is yes.”

  He swallowed hard.

  “Shall we hurry home, James?”

  “By all means.”

  He paid the tab and they were gone. “You’re sure?” he asked as he unlocked the car door and helped her inside.

  Sitting in the passenger seat, Summer smiled up at her husband. “Am I sure? James, it’s been months since we last made love. I’m so hot for you I could burst into flames.”

  James literally ran around the front of the car. He sped the entire way home, and Summer considered it fortunate that they weren’t stopped by a traffic cop.

  “Torture…every night for the last week,” James mumbled as he pulled into the driveway. “I couldn’t trust myself to even touch you.”

  “I know.”

  Her time in Seattle hadn’t started out well. The first morning, she’d woken and run straight for the bathroom. James helped her off the floor when she’d finished. He’d cradled her in his arms and told her how much he loved her for having their baby.

  Her first few dinners hadn’t stayed down, either. But each day after her arrival, the nausea and episodes of vomiting had become less and less frequent. Now, one week later, she was almost herself again.

  He left the car and came around to her side. When he opened the door, she stepped out and into his embrace—and kissed him.

  James groaned and swung her into
his arms.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Carrying you over the threshold,” he announced. “You’ve been cheated out of just about everything else when it comes to this marriage.”

  “I haven’t been cheated.”

  “You should’ve had the big church wedding and—”

  “Are we going to argue about that again? Really, James, I’d rather we just made love.”

  He had a problem getting the door unlocked while holding her, but he managed. The minute they were inside, he started kissing her, doing wonderful, erotic things that excited her to the point of desperation.

  Summer kicked off her shoes.

  James kissed her and unsnapped the button to her skirt. The zipper slid down. All the while he was silently urging her toward the stairs.

  Her jacket went next, followed by her shirt.

  She made it to the staircase and held out her hand. James didn’t need any more encouragement than that. They raced to the bedroom together.

  Summer fell on the bed, laughing. “Oh, James, promise you’ll always love me this much.”

  “I promise.” He tried to remove his shirt without taking off his tie, with hilarious results. Arms clutching her stomach, Summer doubled over, laughing even harder. It was out of pure kindness that she climbed off the bed and loosened the tie enough to slip it over his head. Otherwise, she was afraid her normally calm, patient husband would have strangled himself.

  “You think this is funny, do you?”

  “I think you’re the most wonderful man alive. Will you always want me this much?”

  “I can’t imagine not wanting you.” And he proceeded to prove it….

  James was half-asleep when he heard the doorbell chime. He would have ignored it, but on the off chance it was someone important, he decided to look outside and see if he recognized the car.

  Big mistake.

  Ralph Southworth was at his door.

  James grabbed his pants, threw on his shirt and kissed Summer on the cheek. Then he hurried down the stairs, taking a second to button his shirt before he opened the door. “Hello, Ralph,” he said, standing, shoes and socks in hand.

  Ralph frowned. “What the hell have you been—never mind, I already know.”

  “Summer’s here.”

  “So I gather.”

  “Give her a few minutes, and she’ll be down so you can meet her,” James told him. He sat in a chair and put on his shoes and socks. “What can I do for you?”

  “A number of things, but mainly I’d…” He hesitated as Summer made her way down the stairs. Her hair was mussed, her eyes soft and glowing.

  “Ralph, this is my wife, Summer,” James said proudly, joining her. He slipped his arm around her shoulders.

  “Hello, Summer,” Ralph said stiffly.

  “Hello, Ralph.”

  “When did you get here?”

  “Last week. Would you two like some coffee? I’ll make a pot. James, take your friend into the den, why don’t you, and I’ll bring everything in there.”

  James didn’t want his wife waiting on him, but something about the way she spoke told him this wasn’t the time to argue. That was when he saw her skirt draped on a chair, and her jacket on the floor.

  “This way, Ralph,” he said, ushering the other man into the den.

  He looked over his shoulder and saw Summer delicately scoop up various items of clothing, then hurry into the kitchen.

  “Something amuses you?”

  James cleared his throat. “Not really.”

  “First of all, James, I have to question your judgment. When you told me you married a showgirl—”

  “Summer’s an actress.”

  Ralph ignored that. “As I was saying, your judgment appears to be questionable.”

  This was a serious accusation, considering that James was running for a position on the superior court.

  Ralph’s lips were pinched. “It worries me that you’d marry some woman you barely know on the spur of the moment.”

  “Love sometimes happens like that.”

  “Perhaps,” Ralph muttered. “Personally I wouldn’t know, but James, how much younger is she?”

  “Not as much as you think. Nine years.”

  “She’s unsuitable!”

  “For whom? You? Listen, Ralph, I asked you to manage my campaign, not run my life. I married Summer, and she’s going to have my child.”

  “The girl’s pregnant, as well?”

  “Yes, the baby’s due September twenty-third.”

  Ralph’s lips went white with disapproval. “Could she have chosen a more inconvenient date?”

  “I don’t think it really matters.”

  “That’s the primary!”

  “I’m well aware of it.”

  “Good grief, James.” Ralph shook his head. “This won’t do. It just won’t. Once people learn what you’ve done, they’ll assume you were obligated to marry the girl. The last thing we need now is to have your morals questioned.”

  “Ralph, you’re overreacting.”

  “I can’t believe you brought her here, after everything I said.”

  James gritted his teeth. “She’s my wife.”

  Ralph paced back and forth for a moment or two. “I don’t feel I have any choice,” he said with finality.

  “Choice about what?”

  “I’m resigning as your manager.”

  Summer appeared just then, carrying a tray. “Coffee, anyone?”

  Ten

  Summer settled easily into life with James. She adored her husband and treasured each moment that they were together.

  Her days quickly began to follow a routine of sorts. She rose early and, because she was feeling better, resumed her regular workout, which included a two-mile run first thing in the morning.

  James insisted on running with her, although he made it clear he didn’t like traipsing through dark streets at dawn’s early light. But he wasn’t comfortable with her running alone, so he joined her, protesting every step of the way.

  James was naturally athletic, and Summer didn’t think anyone was more surprised than he was by how enjoyable he started to find it. After their run, they showered together. Thankfully James’s hot-water tank was larger than the meager one back in her Orange County apartment.

  This was both good and bad. The negative was when James, a stickler for punctuality, got to court late two mornings in a row.

  “You shower first,” he told her after their Monday-morning run.

  “Not together?” she asked, disappointed.

  “I can’t be late this morning.”

  “We’ll behave,” she promised.

  James snickered. “I can’t behave with you, Summer. You tempt me too much.”

  “All right, but you shower first, and I’ll get us breakfast.”

  Ten minutes later, he walked into the kitchen, where Summer was pouring two glasses of orange juice. He wore his dark business suit and carried his briefcase, ready for his workday.

  “What are your plans?” he asked, downing the juice as he stood by the table. He sat down to eat his bagel and cream cheese and picked up the paper.

  “I’m going to send Julie a long e-mail. Then I thought I’d stop in at the library and volunteer to read during storytime.”

  “Good idea,” he said, scanning the paper.

  Summer knew reading the paper was part of his morning ritual, which he didn’t have as much time for since her arrival. She drank the last of her juice and kissed his cheek.

  “I’m going upstairs for my shower,” she told him.

  “All right. Have a good day.”

  “I will. Oh, what time will you be home tonight?” she asked.

  “Six or so,” he mumbled absently and turned the front page.

  Summer hesitated. His schedule had changed. Rarely did he get home before eight the first week after she’d moved in. It seemed that every night there was someone to meet, some campaign supporter to talk to, some pla
n to outline—all to do with the September primary, even though it was still months away.

  In the past week James had come directly home from the courthouse. Not that she was complaining, but she couldn’t help wondering.

  “What about your campaign?” she asked.

  “Everything’s under control,” was all he said.

  Summer wondered.

  All at once James looked up, startled, as if he’d just remembered something. “What day’s your ultrasound?”

  “Thursday of next week. Don’t look so worried. You don’t need to be there.”

  “I want to be there,” he stated emphatically. “Our baby’s first picture. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Besides, I’m curious to find out if we’re going to have a son or daughter.”

  “Don’t tell me,” she said. “I don’t want to know.”

  “I won’t,” he said, chuckling. He reached out to stroke her abdomen. “I can’t believe how much I love this little one, and he isn’t even born yet.”

  “He?” she asked, hands on her hips in mock offense.

  “A daughter would suit me just fine. Actually Dad’s hoping for a granddaughter. It’s been a long time since there’s been a little girl in the family.”

  Summer pressed her hand over her husband’s. She’d never been this happy. It frightened her sometimes. Experience had taught her that happiness almost always came with a price.

  Walter joined them for dinner Wednesday evening. From the moment she’d met him, Summer had liked her father-in-law.

  “Did you know Summer could cook this well when you married her?” Walter asked when they’d finished eating.

  She’d found a recipe for a chicken casserole on the Internet and served it with homemade dinner rolls and fresh asparagus, with a fresh fruit salad made of seedless grapes and strawberries. For dessert she picked up a lemon torte at the local bakery.

  “Summer’s full of surprises,” James told his father. His eyes briefly met hers.

  “What he’s trying to say is no one knew how fertile I was, either.”

  “That’s the best surprise yet,” Walter said. He dabbed the corner of his mouth with his napkin in a blatant effort to hide a smile.