An Unexpected Love

Chapter Eight

Eight

“ Y ou need to borrow a suit?” Rich asked, looking smugly amused as he led Jason to the walk-in closet in the huge master bedroom. The home had been built several years earlier, when Jamie was pregnant with Bethany. Rich himself had designed the sprawling L-shaped rambler that overlooked Puget Sound, and he was justifiably proud.

“Yes, I need to borrow a suit,” Jason muttered, not giving his brother the satisfaction of explaining. Already he regretted having volunteered to be a chaperone for this dance. No matter how hard he tried, he wasn’t going to be whirling around a dance floor as if he knew what he was doing. He’d probably make a fool of himself in front of Charlotte and a bunch of smart-aleck ninth-graders.

As an engineer, Rich was required to dress more formally on the job than Jason was. Jason owned a suit, but it was outdated. Maybe if he waited a few more years it would become fashionable again.

If the truth be known, he wasn’t even sure when he’d last worn it. Sometime in college, he guessed. He’d buy another one if he thought he’d get any use out of it, but that didn’t seem likely.

“What do you need a suit for?” Rich asked outright.

“I wouldn’t be borrowing one if I’d known I was going to face an inquisition.”

Rich chuckled, clearly enjoying Jason’s discomfort. “I just want to be sure you aren’t going to run off and marry Charlotte. Mom would kill you if you pulled a stunt like that.”

Jason snickered, hoping to give the impression that marriage was the furthest thing from his mind, which it was. Wasn’t it?

“Hey, don’t act like it couldn’t happen,” Rich said, pushing hangers aside as he sorted through several tailored jackets. “With our family’s history, it wouldn’t be unheard-of for you to elope.”

Jason couldn’t argue with that. It had all started with Taylor. A few years back, his sister had moved to Montana and within three months had married Russ Palmer. The decision to marry had apparently been impulsive—and it happened while they were chaperoning the high-school drill team in Reno. The deed was done by the time they bothered to contact any family.

Jason frowned. Taylor had been a chaperone, too, and look where it had led. This high-school dance was beginning to sound more and more dangerous.

Christy had married on the sly, too, again without telling anyone in the family. There were extenuating circumstances in her case, however. Well, sort of. His youngest sister had actually been engaged—to a lawyer, James Wilkens—when she’d gone to Idaho with Cody Franklin and married him. Their marriage had caused quite a ruckus in the family, but eventually everything had been smoothed over. Anyway, Christy was much better suited to Cody than to James, although the attorney had remained a good family friend.

Rich had followed suit, marrying Jamie with some idiotic idea of being a sperm donor for her baby. Jason had stood up for his brother, but he’d known from the beginning that the two of them were in love. He’d predicted that this sperm donor business wouldn’t pan out, and he’d been right. Jamie had gotten pregnant, sooner than either of them had expected, and the process hadn’t involved any artificial insemination, either.

Paul had been next. Diane, Paul’s first wife, had died tragically, shortly after giving birth to Kelsey. Her loss had sent the family reeling. For six months, Paul had shunned his family’s offers of help, attempting to balance his duties at home with his job and at the same time comfort his grieving children, all preschoolers. He’d been proud and angry. Leah, Diane’s sister, had convinced him he couldn’t continue alone. She’d given up her teaching position at the college and moved in with Paul and the children. Shortly afterward, they were married. But once again, no one in the family was informed of the ceremony.

The only single Manning left was Jason, and he didn’t plan to get married. He’d decided that years before. It was unfortunate that his parents had been cheated out of putting on a large wedding, but those were the breaks. He wasn’t marching down any aisle just to satisfy his mother’s need to work with caterers and some florist friend she’d known for years.

“So, Jase,” Rich said casually, breaking into his thoughts. “How are things with you and Charlotte?”

“Fine.”

“Fine?” Rich repeated, with that smug look Jason found so irritating.

“You don’t need to concern yourself with my affairs,” Jason said, resenting the way Rich and Paul made his love life their business.

“Are you going to ask her to marry you?” Almost in afterthought, Rich held up a well-cut gray suit coat. The tailoring was excellent and the material was top of the line.

Jason ignored the question and reached for the jacket, trying it on over his black T-shirt with Seattle at Night silk-screened across the front.

“What are your intentions toward Charlotte?” Rich asked with a pensive frown. He sounded oddly formal—and unusually serious.

“My intentions are my own, but since you asked,” Jason said, turning around to admire his profile in the full-length mirror, “I’ll tell you…. They’re dishonorable, as always.” He tried to make a joke of it, laugh off the attraction he’d been battling from the moment he’d met Charlotte Weston over a leaky faucet.

His joke, however, fell decidedly flat.

“Not this time, big brother.”

“What do you mean by that?” Jason demanded. He didn’t like his brother sticking his nose where it didn’t belong, but he couldn’t help being curious about Rich’s remark.

“You’re in love with her.”

“Is that right?” Jason returned flippantly.

“It’s the first time you’ve ever invited a woman to watch you play softball.”

Rich made it sound as if that alone was enough to force him into a shotgun wedding. Jason refused to get into an argument with his younger brother. It wouldn’t do him any good. Just because Rich and Jamie were so happy together, his brother seemed to think he was an expert on the subject of love and marriage. Jason didn’t want to be the one to disillusion him.

Perhaps he did have some deep affection for Charlotte, Jason told himself. He’d be the first to admit he was strongly attracted to her, but marriage? Out of the question.

This was a familiar argument, one he’d worked through early in their relationship. It had worried him then, but he’d been so fascinated with her that he’d pushed his apprehensions to the back of his mind, deciding to take one day at a time.

He’d face one hurdle, he decided, before he confronted another. For now, the obstacle was their physical relationship. When she trusted him enough to put aside her fears and allow him to make love to her, it would be time to reevaluate what was happening between them. But not yet.

“Are you going to let me borrow the suit or not?” Jason asked stiffly. “If I have to stand here and listen to a lecture, too, I’d rather go to the rental shop.”

He half expected Rich to jerk the coat off his shoulders and send him on his way. Instead, his youngest brother grinned, as if he knew something Jason didn’t. It was another irritating habit of his.

“You’re welcome to keep the suit as long as you like,” Rich assured him. “You never know when you’re suddenly going to need one.”

* * *

Friday evening came, and it took Jason a full half hour to knot his tie correctly. He was out of practice, and getting it just right frustrated him. He should’ve borrowed the clip-on variety, but he hadn’t thought of asking for one. No doubt Rich had plenty of each type.

Surveying his reflection in the mirror, he barely recognized himself. He was tall, besting his brothers by an inch or more, his shoulders were wide and, if he had anything to be proud of physically, it was that his stomach had remained flat. Haphazard meals and baseball did that for a man.

Charlotte probably wouldn’t recognize him, either. If memory served, it was the first time she’d gone anywhere with him when he wasn’t wearing a baseball cap. He brushed his hand along the side of his head, making sure his hair stayed flat. He carefully examined himself to see if he could find any gray hairs for a more distinguished look. When he didn’t, he was actually disappointed.

He checked his watch. If everything had gone according to schedule, Carrie would have been picked up fifteen minutes ago for a pre-dance buffet. Since the dance didn’t start for another two hours, Jason had suggested taking Charlotte out to dinner.

He didn’t know what had gotten into him lately. He’d made reservations at an expensive restaurant, and ordered a fancy corsage to give her when they arrived.

Normally, his idea of a night on the town included pizza, beer and a Mariners’ game. Drag an irresistible woman into his life, and before he knew it, he was forking out major bucks for dinner and flowers. The thing was, he’d come up with the idea on his own and was even excited about it, knowing how pleased Charlotte would be.

He’d seen this happen with his friends—his brothers, too—but he would never have believed he’d fall such willing prey to a woman’s charms. It wouldn’t have happened with anyone but Charlotte. Of that, he was certain.

At exactly seven, he walked over to Charlotte’s apartment and rang the bell. She kept him waiting for several minutes before she opened the door—not a promising sign.

When she finally did come, Jason was about to complain. He was going to a lot of trouble for this blasted dance; the least she could do was be ready on time.

Whatever he’d intended to say, however, flew out of his mind when he saw Charlotte. For the longest moment of his life, he stood there immobile.

This was Charlotte! She was…stunning.

“I’m…sorry,” she said, sounding flustered. “I didn’t mean to keep you standing out here, but I’m having a problem with this dress.”

She was beautiful.

The word didn’t begin to describe how breathtaking she looked. Her hair was done in a way he’d never seen before, swirled to one side, exposing the smooth skin of her cheek and her long, slender neck. Dangling gold earrings swung from her ears. Her eyes were a brighter blue than ever before, the color of the sky washed clean by a summer squall. Her dress was a paler shade of blue… Her dress… Jason’s gaze slid over the sleeveless dress with its tight bodice and flared skirt, and an invisible hand seemed to appear out of thin air and knock him senseless.

“Jason.” Her eyes implored him as she held one hand behind her back. “Is something wrong? I look terrible, don’t I? Don’t worry about hurting my feelings… This dress is too fancy, isn’t it?”

It was all he could do to close his mouth. “You look…fabulous.” Which was the understatement of the century. Jason felt sorry that he wasn’t more sophisticated and urbane.

If he had been, he might have told her how exquisite she was. He might have found the words to say he’d gladly rework the knot in his tie for another hour if it meant he could spend the evening with her. For the first time since he’d donned the suit jacket, he felt no remorse for volunteering to escort Charlotte to her daughter’s dance.

“I can’t get the zipper all the way up,” Charlotte explained. “I was so busy helping Carrie get ready before Brad and his father arrived that I… I didn’t get dressed myself, and now I can’t reach the zipper. Would you mind?”

She presented him with her back and it was all Jason could do to pull the tab up instead of down. If he went on instinct he’d have had her out of that dress, in his arms and on the way to the bedroom. He couldn’t recall a time he’d wanted a woman more than he did Charlotte Weston right then and there.

“Jason?” She glanced over her shoulder when he delayed.

His hand felt clammy, and at first his fingers refused to cooperate, but with some effort he managed to do as she asked, sliding the zipper up her back.

“Thank you,” she said. “You can’t imagine what a madhouse it’s been around here,” she went on. “Carrie was so nervous. She looked so grown-up. I can’t believe my baby isn’t a baby anymore.”

Jason returned her smile. “My mother felt the same way when Christy—my sister—attended her first big dance.”

Even now, Jason was having trouble forming coherent sentences.

“The dress isn’t mine,” she told him as she searched for her evening bag, wandering from one room to the next until she located it. “I borrowed it from one of my friends at the office… It’s too close to the end of the month to go out and buy one.” She sighed, sounding breathless. “Even if I’d had the extra money, I doubt I would’ve been able to find one at the last minute. I’d feel dreadful if something happened to Cheryl’s dress.”

“I borrowed the suit from my brother.” Maintaining an intelligible conversation, he discovered, wasn’t as much of a problem as keeping his eyes off her.

Charlotte drew in a deep, steadying breath. “I know it’s silly, but I’m as nervous as Carrie.”

He smiled, trying to reassure her.

“The last dance I attended was in college,” she said. “I… I don’t know if I can dance anymore.”

“I’m not exactly light on my feet, Charlotte,” Jason felt obliged to remind her. He’d warned her earlier, but he doubted she’d taken him seriously.

“Do you think we should practice?” she asked.

She was gazing up at him with wide eyes. Jason would’ve given everything he owned to find out if she was feeling anything close to the emotional havoc he was.

“Practice?” he echoed. “That’s an idea.” He swallowed, wondering exactly what he was inviting. Trouble with a capital T , considering the way his body was reacting.

Charlotte set aside her evening bag and walked into his embrace. “I’m afraid I’m not going to be very good at this,” she murmured.

“Don’t worry. Hey, as far as I’m concerned, those ninth-graders are going to dance circles around us anyway.”

Charlotte’s laugh sounded sweet and soft, and Jason’s heart constricted. Could this be love? This pleasure he felt in doing small things for her—like the dinner and flowers? This need to hold her in his arms? This desire to be with her and her alone?

The feel of Charlotte’s body against his was the purest form of torture he’d ever experienced. She fit in his arms as though she belonged there. Had always belonged there. He tried to ignore how right it felt.

And couldn’t.

He tried to ignore the fragrance of wildflowers that whispered through her hair whenever she moved her head.

And didn’t.

He tried, but failed.

Everything went fairly well for the first few minutes. At least he wasn’t stepping on her feet. Then Jason realized their feet weren’t moving and they were staring at each other more than they were dancing. Gazing at each other with starry-eyed wonder.

He shifted his hand upward, wanting to lessen the feeling of intimacy, but his fingers inadvertently grazed the skin of her upper back.

Either he kissed her now or he’d regret it the rest of the night. Either he continued the pretense or confessed openly to how vulnerable she made him feel.

He brought her closer to him. He could feel her heart racing, echoing his own. Once he kissed her, he knew there’d be no stopping. Not this time.

He lowered his head ever so slightly and waited.

Charlotte sighed, closed her eyes and lifted her mouth enticingly to his. He suspected she was unconscious of what she was doing, what she was seeking.

Frankly, Jason didn’t care. He was so hungry for the taste of her, nothing mattered. His mouth found hers and he groaned. Charlotte did, too.

He hadn’t touched her in days, wanting to give her time, give himself time to define the boundaries of their relationship. It had been too long. He felt so needy he trembled.

The kiss was long, slow, deliberate.

Slowly, reluctantly dragging his mouth from hers, he created a small distance between them. Her eyes slowly fluttered open and met his.

“Jason?”

“I want you, Charlotte.” He couldn’t be any plainer than that. “I need you.”

Emotion flickered in her gaze. Was it fear? Pain? Jason found it impossible to tell.

“Do you want to stop?” His hands were in her hair. By the time she lifted her mouth from his, Jason was melting with a need so powerful it throbbed within him.

Charlotte sighed into the hollow of his throat. “Jason, will you be angry with me?”

He saw the emotions assailing her, but noted the dignified way in which she tilted her chin and the proud squaring of her shoulders.

“No, I won’t be angry.”

She relaxed. Visibly. “Didn’t you tell me you made dinner reservations for seven-thirty?”

“Yes.” He recognized her fear and tried to ignore his own disappointment.

Self-conscious now, Charlotte broke away, quietly adjusting her clothes, then retrieved her evening bag. It wasn’t until she looked up at him that he saw the anguish in her eyes.

He didn’t know what her ex-husband—he assumed it was her ex-husband—had done. Her gaze linked with his, regret and misery so evident it was all he could do not to reach for her again. To comfort, not to kiss. To offer her solace, not passion.

Now, more than ever, Jason was determined to discover how her ex-husband had hurt her so badly. Determined to help her recover and teach her how beautiful love could be.

* * *

Charlotte was shaken to her very core. The intensity of their kisses had grown fervent and passionate, near the point of no return. If she’d given him the least bit of encouragement, he would have carried her into the bedroom.

For one wild moment, she’d been tempted to let him. Then the haze of desire had faded enough for sanity to return.

She felt grateful that Jason had allowed her to regain her senses, had given her the option to stop or proceed. Not like Tom…

Charlotte was jarred by this latest exchange even more than the other times Jason had held her and kissed her.

He’d almost made her forget.

Since her divorce, Charlotte had been content in her own small, secure world. The world she’d so carefully constructed for herself and Carrie. It had been the two of them, prevailing against all odds, forging a life together. The borders of her world had been narrow and confining, but Charlotte had made peace with that, had accepted its limitations.

Then a series of events had thrown her into confusion. It had all started at the baby shower for her friend Kathy Crenshaw. Charlotte had held the newborn in her arms and the longing she’d managed to ignore all these years had struck her full-force.

Shortly afterward she’d met Jason, and her life hadn’t been the same since.

Because of Jason, she’d recognized how restricted her world had become. How limited. If that wasn’t enough, he’d shown her glimpses of a life she’d never dared hope existed. He’d taught her to dream, to believe in the impossible.

Almost.

After a protracted farewell to Higgins, they went out to the parking lot. Jason opened the car door and helped her inside, then stood in the fresh air for several minutes, hands in his coat pockets. He closed his eyes and turned his face toward the night sky.

Charlotte knew it was difficult for a man to cut the lovemaking off as abruptly as they’d done. He needed a few minutes to compose himself.

She watched him as he climbed into the car. He hesitated after inserting the key into the ignition and smiled over at her. “Ready?”

Charlotte nodded. “Are you…all right?”

“Never finer,” he assured her, then clasped her hand to kiss her knuckles.