Debbie Macomber - Happy Mother's Day - Ready for Romance / Ready for Marriage

Her mother sat on the bed and leaned back on her hands. “I don’t suppose there’s any reason to keep it a secret. Walter’s been approached about running for the Senate.”

Walter Dryden had been active in community affairs for years. Although he’d never held public office, he’d often managed the successful campaigns of others. He’d taken an early retirement from the law firm, and, from what Jessica understood, had grown restless with inactivity. Running for office would doubtless come as a welcome challenge.

“Has he decided he’s going to run?”

“Your father and I think so. He hasn’t declared his candidacy yet, but we’re confident he will. He’s testing the waters with this barbecue tonight. The ostensible reason is to welcome this artist—a Pierre Sidonie—but a number of people from the political arena will also be present. So this is probably the most important party of Lois’s marriage. No wonder she’s a nervous wreck.”

Even before Jessica and her parents arrived for the barbecue, the pungent smells of tomato sauce, spices and roasting meat mingled in the afternoon sunshine and drifted over the fence.

As they were greeted at the front door, Jessica was reminded, by the fervor with which Lois hugged her mother, what very good friends the two women were. Their friendship had spanned more than twenty years, and they were like sisters. Jessica felt the same way about Cathy. They’d met in college, where they’d been roommates for three years.

When Jessica didn’t immediately see Evan or Damian, she wandered outside. A series of round tables decorated in red checked tablecloths were scattered across the lush expanse of lawn. The day was perfect, warm but not hot, and the sky was cloudless. A soft breeze ruffled the leaves of the large shade trees that lined the property. This was New England summer at its best. The aromas of the food were heavenly, too, reminding her how hungry she was. Shopping and preparing for the party hadn’t left time for lunch.

Several dozen guests had arrived, and Jessica scanned the crowd. She spotted Evan standing next to a lovely blonde in a white fringed dress with a turquoise belt and silver buckle. Jessica didn’t recognize the woman, and a few discreet inquiries got her nowhere. She became all the more curious. She attempted to make her way over to Evan, since she was officially his date, but in actuality, she was seeking an introduction to the lovely blonde. Perhaps this was Evan’s new romantic interest, she thought hopefully. But before she could reach Evan, she was waylaid by some family friends. Most of the Drydens’ guests were older people, established names Jessica had known or heard all her life.

“Hello, Jessica,” Damian said from behind her. She turned to find him in the sort of suit he wore at the office. He’d made an attempt to dress to the theme with a black Stetson, which, in Jessica’s opinion, looked entirely out of place on his very Bostonian head.

His eyes glimmered with appreciation. “You look—” he hesitated “—good.”

Jessica suspected it wasn’t often that Damian was at a loss for words. It lifted her spirits considerably.

“I imagine you’re wondering who that blonde is, the one draping herself all over Evan,” he suggested casually.

That was true, although not for the reasons he believed. She couldn’t help being grateful to this unknown woman for keeping Evan occupied. Otherwise he might feel obliged to pay attention to her, and she’d much rather spend her time with Damian.

“Who is she?” Jessica asked, playing his game.

“Do I detect a small hint of jealousy?”

“Of course not.” The question irritated her.

“That’s Ramona Sidonie.”

“Who?”

“The artist’s daughter.”

That explained it. Naturally Evan considered it his duty to make Ramona feel welcome. Jessica was pleased to see him apparently enjoying himself.

“Would you like me to introduce you?” Damian asked.

“No,” Jessica said. She’d noticed Evan and Ramona moving toward the dance area. “Evan’s having a good time. I don’t see any reason to interrupt him.”

“You’re his date.”

“But only because you talked him into asking me.”

Damian’s eyes narrowed. “What makes you say that?”

“I’m not completely naive, you know. The reason you came into my office to invite me was that you didn’t think Evan had—and you wanted to make sure the two of us were together in a social situation so you could see what happened. Am I right?”

He clasped his hands behind his back and took two small steps away, then turned to face her again. She saw a hint of a smile in his eyes. “If you’re right—although I’m not saying you are—I’d never admit it.”

“You must wreak havoc on a jury.”

“That’s what my clients pay me for.”

Jessica looked toward the dance area again and couldn’t see Evan and the Frenchwoman. When she glanced over at the picnic area, she found the pair sitting at a table beneath a large elm tree munching on barbecue sandwiches.

“She’s lovely,” Jessica murmured, watching the couple. “No wonder Evan’s forgotten me.”

“Ramona may be lovely, but so are you,” Damian returned quickly, then looked as if he regretted speaking.

“Thank you.”

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Why not? That makes me think you didn’t mean it.”

“I shouldn’t be the one saying such things to you,” Damian replied. “You’re Evan’s date.”

“He seems to have forgotten that, which is just as well. I’d rather be with you,” she said boldly.

“With me?” Damian repeated, sounding appalled by the mere suggestion. “Have you eaten?” he asked hurriedly. They were standing next to the dessert table. It was laden with an enormous chocolate cake decorated with fresh strawberries, a lemon torte that would have tempted a saint and a fresh blueberry cobbler, which Jessica knew from years past was the caterer’s specialty.

“I’m not hungry just yet,” she said, figuring Damian might have used her desire to eat as an excuse to squire her to one of the tables and conveniently leave her there.

Damian eyed her speculatively. “You’re sure about that? I’d hate to see a repeat of what happened the other night.”

“Well, yes, I guess I will have a bite … but may I sit with you?”

“If you insist.”

She did. Damian handed her a plate. Together they walked along the buffet table. Jessica helped herself to potato salad, baked beans and a generous rack of spareribs.

The band started to play a popular tune, and her foot tapping to the beat, Jessica enjoyed the culinary feast. She was content to sit on the sidelines. Evan definitely seemed to have forgotten her, but far from being offended, she felt only a sense of relief.

Damian’s invitation to dance was unexpected. “Why do you want to dance with me?” she asked. She had a sneaking suspicion it somehow involved his brother.

“Do I need a reason?”

Jessica hesitated, then nodded. “If you’re thinking it’s a way to get Evan to notice me, then I’d rather sit out.”

“What if I said it was because I wanted to see how you felt in my arms?”

Her heart gave a flutter. “Then I’d agree.” She met his gaze directly. “So, which is it, Damian?”

He took a long time deciding, much longer than should’ve been necessary. Slowly he pushed back his chair and stood. “Why don’t we find out together,” he suggested, leading her by the hand toward the farthest reaches of the dance area.

The party was in full swing now, with a good number of couples two-stepping around the area. When several old family friends stopped to chat with Jessica and Damian as they made their way toward the other dancers, Jessica could sense Damian’s impatience.