The Manning Grooms (Those Manning Men #0)

The Manning Grooms (Those Manning Men #0) Page 7

“Are any of them married?”

“Everyone but me. I’m beginning to lose track of how many nieces and nephews I’ve got now, and there doesn’t seem to be a lull yet.”

Charlotte had never had much of a family. Her father had deserted her and her mother when Charlotte was too young to remember him. Then her mother had died just about the time Charlotte graduated from high school. The insurance money was set up to cover her college expenses. Only the money hadn’t been used for her. Instead, Tom had been educated on her inheritance; he’d robbed her of even that.

Charlotte lowered her gaze. It hurt too much to think about Tom and that bleak period of her life when she’d been so lost and vulnerable. So alone, with no family. Her ex-husband had used her and when he’d finished, he’d thrown her aside.

All the time she was growing up, Charlotte had dreamed about being part of a large, loving family. How she envied Jason his brothers and sisters.

“The story of my family tree is less about the roots,” he said, grinning as he spoke, “than the sap.”

Charlotte’s laugh was spontaneous. She picked up her water, warmed by his wit and his willingness to laugh at himself. “I was an only child. I promised myself I’d have a houseful of kids when I got married so my children wouldn’t grow up lonely.”

“Lonely,” Jason echoed. “I would have given anything for some peace and quiet. The girls were the worst.”

“Somehow I guessed you’d complain about the women in your family.”

“You know,” he said, “I never thought I’d say this, but I really miss Taylor and Christy. They’re both living in Montana now, raising their families. We get together when we can, which isn’t nearly often enough. It’s been over a year since we saw each other.”

The waitress came for their order. Charlotte asked for the specialty salad, which consisted of beans, rice, cheese, shredded chicken, lettuce and slices of tomato and jalapeño peppers. Jason chose the chicken enchiladas.

“Do your brothers live in the Seattle area?”

Jason nodded. “Paul’s a journalist and Rich works as an engineer for Boeing. We see each other frequently.”

Their orders arrived and they chatted amicably over their meal. Jason sampled her salad and fed her a bite of his enchiladas; both were delicious. Soon they’d asked the waitress for two additional plates and were unabashedly sharing their meals.

It was only seven-thirty when they’d finished, even though they lingered over coffee. Charlotte couldn’t remember time passing more quickly.

All day she’d been worried about this dinner—and for nothing. She’d enjoyed herself even more than she’d hoped, but that was easy to do with Jason. He didn’t put on airs or pretend to be something he wasn’t. Nor did he feign agreement with her; their differing opinions meant a free and interesting exchange of ideas.

“I should be heading home,” Charlotte said, although she could happily have sat there talking. They weren’t at a loss for topics, but the restaurant was busy and Carrie would be home soon.

“Yeah, I suppose we should go,” he said reluctantly, standing. He left a generous tip and took the tab up to the counter.

After talking nonstop for nearly an hour, both were strangely quiet on the drive home. Charlotte had been determined to enjoy herself from the start, but she’d expected to make the best of a bad situation. Instead she’d had a wonderful time.

She hadn’t known how starved she was for adult companionship, hadn’t realized how empty she’d felt inside, how deep the void had become.

As they neared the apartment complex, she realized one more thing. She didn’t want this evening to end.

“Would you like to come in for coffee?” she asked as he parked his car. For half the ride home, Charlotte had been engaging in a silent debate. She was sure that if Carrie was home, she’d make a big deal about Jason’s presence. But Charlotte would get the third degree from her daughter anyway, so she decided it didn’t matter if Jason came in.

“I could use another cup of coffee,” Jason told her, although they’d both had large mugs at the restaurant.

As luck would have it, Carrie wasn’t home yet. Charlotte had been counting on her teenage daughter to act as a buffer between her and Jason. She half suspected Jason was thinking the same thing.

“Carrie’s at the library with a friend,” she explained. “But I’m sure she’ll be back any minute.”

“I wondered what she was up to tonight.”

“I’ll put on the coffee,” she said self-consciously, going directly to the kitchen. “Make yourself at home.”

While she scooped up the grounds and poured water into the pot, she saw that Jason had lowered himself onto her sofa. He reached for a magazine and flipped through the pages, then set it back and reached for another. Since it was upside down, his attention was clearly elsewhere. He noted his mistake, righted the magazine, then placed it with the others. Apparently Seventeen magazine didn’t interest him after all.

There was no reason for him to be so nervous. It was funny; they’d chatted like old friends at the restaurant, but the instant they were alone, they became uncomfortable with each other.

“I thought you might like some cookies,” she said, as she carried the tray into the living room. She’d baked chocolate chip cookies that weekend, and there were plenty left over.

Being a single mother left her vulnerable to attacks of guilt—guilt that often led to an abundance of homemade cookies. There were so many things she didn’t know about family, so much she’d missed out on. It bothered her more than she wanted to admit. Whenever Charlotte was feeling anxious or contrite about something, she baked. And with the ninth-grade dance hanging over her head, she’d been doing a lot of baking lately. The cookie jar was full. The freezer was packed, too. Even Carrie was complaining about all the goodies around the house. Too tempting, she said. Her daughter claimed Charlotte was trying to raise her cholesterol and kill her off.

More guilt, more need to bake cookies. It was a vicious circle.

“Homemade cookies,” Jason said, sliding forward, far more appreciative than her daughter. “I didn’t know anyone but my mother baked these days.” He took one and downed it in two bites, nodding vigorously even before he’d finished chewing.

Charlotte smiled at the unspoken compliment and poured their coffee in plain white china cups. “There’s plenty more where those came from.”

Jason helped himself to a second and then a third.

Charlotte was pleased that he seemed to value her culinary skills. “I guess it’s true, then.”

He cocked one eyebrow. “What?”

“Never mind,” she muttered, sorry she’d brought up the subject.

“If you’re thinking the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, forget it. Others before you have tried that route.”

“Several dozen, no doubt,” she teased, amused by his complete lack of modesty. Not to mention his arrogance.

“I’ve suffered my share of feminine wiles.”

“Feminine wiles,” Charlotte repeated, trying hard not to laugh out loud. He acted as though she was setting a trap for him. She was about to reassure him that she had no intention of remarrying, then decided against it. She’d let him assume whatever he wanted. After all, he was helping her get rid of these cookies before they overran the apartment.

She did bring up another topic, though, one she couldn’t help being curious about. “Why aren’t you married?” She hoped he wouldn’t be offended by her directness; based on their previous conversations she didn’t expect him to be.

Jason shrugged and swallowed the last bite of the last cookie she’d set out. He seemed to be thinking over his response as he picked up his coffee and relaxed against the back of the sofa. “I learned something recently about the differences between a man and a woman. It’s information that’s served me well.”

They certainly had a routine going with this subject. “Oh, what’s that?”

“Tell me, all kidding aside,” he said, his blue eyes serious, “what is it women want from a man?”

Charlotte thought about that for a moment. “To be loved.”

He nodded approvingly.

“To be needed and respected.”

“Exactly.” He grinned, clearly pleased by her answer.

He was making this easy, and Charlotte warmed to her ideas. “A woman longs to be held, of course, but more than that, she wants to be treasured, appreciated.”

“Perfect,” Jason said, smiling benignly. “Now ask me what a man wants.”

“All right,” she said, crossing her legs, holding the saucer with one hand, her cup in the other. “What is it a man wants?”

“Tickets to the World Series,” Jason returned without a pause.

Charlotte nearly choked on her laughter. Fortunately she wasn’t swallowing a sip of coffee at the time. “I see what you mean,” she said after she’d composed herself. “There does seem to be a basic, shall we say, disconnect here.”

He nodded. “It was when Rich gave up two tickets for a Seahawks football game that I knew he’d fallen in love.”

“That’s sweet,” Charlotte said with a sigh, enjoying the romance of it all.

“Don’t go all soft on me. It wasn’t like it sounds. He gave the tickets to a friend as a bribe. Rich didn’t want to date Jamie himself, he wanted someone else to fall in love with her.”

“He bribed another guy to take her out?”

“Yup. He was in love with her himself, but like the rest of us, he’s useless when it comes to romance. I figured it out before he did, and I know next to nothing about that kind of stuff.” Jason grinned. “From that point on, it was all downhill for Rich. He’s married and has a couple of kids now. A girl and a boy.”

“I don’t care what you say. That’s sweet.”

“Perhaps.”

Charlotte was relaxed now. She removed her shoes and propped her feet on the coffee table, crossing her legs at the ankles. “Have you ever been in love?” At Jason’s hesitation, she hurried to add, “I shouldn’t have asked that.”

“I don’t mind, if you won’t take offense at my answer—which is, I don’t know. I thought I was once, several years back, but in retrospect I’m not sure. It hurt when we broke up, and I was sorry we hadn’t been able to work things out, but I don’t have any real regrets.”

“What was her name?”

“Julie. She’s married now.”

Charlotte didn’t understand where she found the courage, but she reached forward and brushed her index finger down the side of Jason’s face. She wanted to ease the pain she read in his expression, the pain he discounted so casually. A pain she recognized, since she’d walked through this valley herself, with the cold wind of despair howling at her back.

Jason’s gaze met hers and she felt immersed in a look so warm, so intense, that her breath caught. She couldn’t remember a man ever looking at her that way, as though he wasn’t sure she was even real. As if he was afraid she’d vanish if he touched her.