Debbie Macomber - The Manning Grooms - Bride on the Loose / Same Time, Next Year

“No. How’d you know that?”

“You look hungry.”

“That’s because I am. You want to grab something?” he asked as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

She smiled. “Only this time I’ll treat.”

“Charlotte …”

“I insist. Please don’t argue.”

He didn’t have the energy to protest, so he simply agreed. Since she was buying, he let her choose the restaurant. She decided on a nearby sandwich shop. He breathed in the scent of freshly baked bread as soon as he walked in the door.

It was the type of place where customers seated themselves and the silverware was wrapped in a red checkered napkin. The waitress, who looked all of sixteen, took their order, and promptly brought coffee. She came back a few minutes later with six-inch-high sandwiches, layered with sliced turkey, ham, roast beef, lettuce, tomato slices and onion.

“How have you been?” he asked casually after wolfing down the first half of his sandwich.

“Until the accident tonight I was just fine,” Charlotte told him, her eyes flitting away from his. “I don’t know what came over me. I’m usually not so emotional, but seeing that poor little dog on the road bleeding and hurt like that really got to me.”

“It gets to me, too.” The sight of an innocent animal suffering never failed to disturb Jason, although he saw it time and time again. The helplessness of the situation, the complete disregard for life that a hit-and-run accident revealed, angered him.

“I’m so glad you were home,” Charlotte said, keeping her gaze lowered. “I don’t know what I would have done otherwise.”

“I’m glad I was there, too.” He reached across the table, taking her hand, linking their fingers. Her skin was smooth and soft, just the way he remembered.

His eyes sought hers. He smiled and she smiled back. Jason felt ridiculously, unreasonably pleased that they were together. For days he’d been fighting it, and now that they were together, he felt foolish for having put up such a struggle. He should quit worrying about the future, he told himself. Live for the moment. Wasn’t that what all the self-help books said? One day at a time. One kiss at a time.

After what seemed like an eternity, Charlotte dragged her eyes from his.

“How about dessert?” he asked.

Charlotte picked up the menu and read over the limited selection.

“I was thinking more along the lines of homemade chocolate chip cookies,” Jason said.

“They don’t seem to have … Oh, you mean mine? ” She raised eyes as blue as a summer sky.

He nodded enthusiastically. “I’ve reconsidered. It’s true.” His voice sounded slightly hoarse and, if he didn’t know better, seductive.

“What is?”

“The way to my heart takes a direct route through my stomach.”

“Oh.” She blinked as if he’d caught her off guard. She was beautiful, he realized all over again. So gentle and caring. He’d missed her, yet he’d tried to convince himself otherwise, and had been doing a good job of it, too—too good, in fact.

The world seemed to stop. Jason knew his breathing did. He felt as if he were drowning in her eyes. He would’ve liked to blame it on how tired he was, but he’d only be lying to himself.

“You like softball?” he found himself asking next.

She nodded, obviously trying to keep her eyes averted from his. Apparently she was having a difficult time of it, because whenever their eyes met, it would be several moments before she looked away.

“I understand softball, more than basketball at any rate,” she said, sounding slightly breathless.

“My brothers and I play on a team Saturday mornings. Do you and Carrie want to come and watch this weekend?”

Charlotte nodded.

“Good.”

They were both silent on the way home. Jason knew he was going to kiss her again. He couldn’t imagine not kissing her again.

Charlotte must have read his intentions, because her hand was on the car door the minute he shut off the engine. She reminded him of a trapped bird, eager to escape, and yet she didn’t move.

His hand on her shoulder turned her toward him. His heart tripped wildly as she leaned toward him. He felt sure her heart was pounding as furiously as his.

Slowly, so slowly he wondered if he was dreaming it, Charlotte swayed closer. He lowered his mouth to hers. Jason wanted this kiss, wanted it more than he could remember wanting anything. It’d been over a week since he’d seen her and it felt like a lifetime. A thousand lifetimes.

Charlotte’s hands were braced against his chest as he kissed her again, deeper, more fully. Again he kissed her, and again. Finally she broke away.

“Stop,” she pleaded. The words were breathless and he could feel her shudder.

Reluctantly, Jason pulled back. Their eyes met again, and for the second time that night, Jason had the feeling she was frightened, although he didn’t understand why. Wanting to comfort her, he traced a knuckle down the curve of her cheek.

“Carrie will be worried,” she said.

He said nothing.

“I can’t thank you enough. For saving Higgins. The dog.”

Again Jason said nothing.

“Jason,” she whispered. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to kiss me again.”

“I do.” He wasn’t going to lie about it.

He saw that her hand was shaking as she opened the car door and climbed out. She seemed eager to make her escape now.

“Good night,” she said with obvious false cheer.

“Little coward,” Jason muttered under his breath, amused. “Saturday morning!” he shouted after her.

“What time?” She turned to face him again.

“Nine-thirty. Is that too early?”

“I’ll be ready.”

“I’ll call you in the morning about Higgins.”

“Please,” she said, her eyes widening as though she’d momentarily forgotten the dog. “Oh, please do.” She snapped open her purse and withdrew a business card, walking toward him now. “This is my number at the office. I’ll be there after nine.”

“Then I’ll phone at nine.”

“‘Night.”

“‘Night,” he echoed, returning to his apartment.

He wasn’t there more than five minutes when his doorbell chimed. He certainly wasn’t in the mood for company, but as the building owner and manager, he couldn’t very well ignore a visitor.

He opened his door to discover Carrie standing on the other side, a covered plastic bowl in her hand. “These are for you.”

He accepted the container with a puzzled frown.

“Mom asked me to bring you some chocolate chip cookies,” she said, grinning broadly.

“Mom, you look fine.”

“I don’t look fine … I look wretched,” Charlotte insisted, viewing her backside in the hallway mirror. She must’ve been mad to let Carrie talk her into buying jeans. Fashionably faded jeans, no less. Not only had she plunked down ninety bucks for the pair, they looked as if they’d spent the past ten years in someone’s attic.

“You’re acting like a little kid,” Carrie said, slapping her hands against her sides in disgust. “We’re going to a softball game, not the senior prom.”

“Why didn’t you tell me my thighs are so … round?” Charlotte cried in despair. “No woman wants to be seen in pants that make her legs look like hot dogs. I’m not going anywhere.”

Carrie just rolled her eyes.

“Call Jason,” Charlotte told her daughter. “Tell him … anything. Make up some excuse.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Please do as I say.”

“Mom?”

“We’re meeting his family ,” Charlotte cried. “I can’t meet his brothers and sisters-in-law looking like this.”