The Marrying Kind. Judy Christenberry

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      He wanted to take out the pins holding back her long blond hair, and run his hands through it. He wanted to hold her against him, to feel her breathe, to kiss her just below her ear. To inhale her subtle scent. He wasn’t sure why she appealed to him so much. Maybe it was because she wasn’t chasing him. In fact, she seemed downright elusive.

      That remark she’d made about her parents made him eager to question her about her childhood. The two of them might have a lot in common.

      Throughout the evening he watched her carefully. Her every move was so graceful, nearly poetic. He wondered why she was alone.

      That thought stopped him. Was she alone? There could be a man in her life. What would John do if there was?

      At a pause in the conversation, he asked her, “Should we have invited your, uh, significant other?”

      She lowered her eyes. “No, that’s not necessary.”

      “Because there isn’t anyone?” he pressed.

      Her eyes speared him with a sharp look. “Because it has nothing to do with our conversation!”

      Mark immediately intervened. “No, of course not. This is a business dinner. It’s a chance to discuss your investment strategy with the professional you’re giving the opportunity to handle your money.”

      “Of course,” John agreed. He knew Diane wasn’t going to make it a social situation. He was beginning to wonder if she even had a social life.

      Abruptly, he said, “Do you snow ski, Diane?”

      She stared at him. “In Texas? I don’t think that ever happens.”

      “But Colorado’s not that far away. Maybe you go there on vacation?”

      “No, I haven’t tried skiing.”

      “I go several times a year.”

      “We went last year and took the kids,” Mark interjected. “We hired a high school student to come help with them.”

      “That was my idea,” Elizabeth pointed out. “I didn’t want to stay in the room and take care of the kids while Mark went skiing every day.”

      “Yeah. Sometimes I forget children require so much work, but Elizabeth reminds me by going off shopping on a Saturday. By the time she gets home, I’m desperate to get out of there,” Mark assured them.

      “Elizabeth is a great mother. Not every woman is. My father seems to have a talent of picking wives without that quality.”

      “You think it’s something a woman is born with?” Diane asked.

      “Oh, yeah. And pity the poor kids who have the wrong mother.” John grinned at her.

      “I don’t agree,” Elizabeth said. “I had to learn to be a good mother. I had friends who helped me, and my mom. She taught me a lot.”

      “I agree,” Diane said. “They even offer parenting classes for those who doubt their abilities.”

      John seemed unconvinced. “Yeah, but you have to be interested in learning. My stepmothers only wanted a child to ensure that they got more money when the divorce came along.”

      “You’re assuming they went into the marriage knowing it would end in divorce,” Diane commented.

      “Honey, my dad’s famous for his marital problems. He chooses a woman by her beauty. He keeps her until she turns into a wife and bugs him about things he doesn’t want to do. That’s when he discovers she’s not the woman for him. By that time, a baby has come along, and the alimony and child support payments soon follow.”

      “That’s a very cynical outlook, John,” Diane protested.

      “I’ll have to introduce you to my father. Then you’ll understand.”

      Annoyed, she turned to Elizabeth, looking for some safer conversation. “How old are your kids now?”

      “One and a half, four and six.”

      “They must require a lot of energy,” Diane guessed. “My friend Jennifer Carpenter—now Jennifer Barry—adopted three little girls close to those ages.”

      “Three at once?” Elizabeth asked, her voice rising. “How brave of her!”

      “Yes, but they’re so sweet. The three are sisters who were split up when their parents died. They’re so glad to be back together now.”

      “Oh, yes, that’s wonderful,” Elizabeth said, tearing up just a little. “I can’t imagine my children being separated.”

      Mark reached for his wife’s hand. “That won’t happen, honey. Remember, your sister and her husband said they’d take care of our kids if anything happens to us.”

      Diane watched the tender way Mark looked at his wife, and it made her heart ache. What would it be like to have someone who understood, who cared, who prepared for the future?

      Elizabeth straightened her spine. “I’m sorry, Diane. Sometimes I worry.”

      “No need to apologize!” she exclaimed. “I found myself tearing up over my neighbor’s little girls. I’m just glad they found such a great home.”

      John joined the conversation. “So Jennifer is a good mother?”

      “Yes. She wasn’t sure she would be, so she took a parenting class. But she’s doing fine.”

      Mark looked at John. “You sound like you know her?”

      “I know about her. My father wanted to set me up with her.”

      “She sounds like a catch,” Mark said. “Why’d you refuse?”

      “Actually, I didn’t. I was too late. That’s how I met Diane.”

      “Yes,” Diane hurried to add. “And it was a mistake.”

      John turned to her, a smile dancing on his lips. “But not one I regret.”

      Chapter Three

      How could she be alone with him?

      The dilemma had kept Diane awake all night, and still plagued her this morning. She couldn’t walk away from a million-dollar investor, yet she couldn’t honestly accept John’s invitation to lunch.

      Last night, after his incendiary comment at dinner, he’d kept the conversation light and general—till he leaned in close to invite her to discuss his “portfolio” at lunch tomorrow. From the rumbling sound of his voice, she wondered what he really had in mind.

      Maybe she’d invite Mark to join them. He’d be the perfect buffer to keep them on a strictly professional basis.

      After she worked up some preliminary projections for John’s investment, she called her coworker and made the offer. “I think СКАЧАТЬ