The Summer Wedding: Groom Wanted / The Man You'll Marry. Debbie Macomber

when Jordan was gone.

      “We met only recently. I—I don’t have any feelings for him one way or the other.”

      “Well, then, what do you think of him?”

      Jill stared down at her wine. “He works too hard.”

      Sighing, the old man nodded and rubbed his eyes. “He reminds me of myself more than thirty years ago. Sometimes I’d like to take him by the shoulders and shake some sense into him, but I doubt it’d do much good. That boy’s too stubborn to listen. Unfortunately, he’s a lot like his father.”

      Knowing so little of Jordan and his background, Jill was eager to learn what she could. At the same time, a saner part of her insisted she was better off not hearing this. The more she knew, the greater her chances of caring.

      Nevertheless, Jill found herself asking curiously, “What made Jordan the way he is?”

      “To begin with, his parents divorced when he was young. It was a sad situation.” Andrew leaned forward and clasped his wineglass with both hands. “It was plain as the nose on your face that James and Donna Wilcox were in love. But, somehow, bitterness replaced the love, and their son became a weapon they used against each other.”

      “Oh, how sad.” Just as she’d feared, Jill felt herself sympathizing with Jordan.

      “They both married other people, and Jordan seemed to remind his parents of their earlier unhappiness. He was sent to the best boarding schools, but there was precious little love in his life. Before he died, James tried to build a relationship with his son, but …” He shrugged. “And to the best of my knowledge his mother hasn’t seen him since he was a teenager. I’m afraid he’s had very little experience of real love, the kind that gives life meaning. Oh, there’ve been women, plenty of them, but never one who could teach him how to love and bring joy into his life—until now.” He paused and looked pointedly at Jill.

      “As I said before, I’ve only known Jordan for a short time.”

      “Be patient with him,” Mr. Howard continued, as though Jill hadn’t spoken. “Jordan’s talented, don’t get me wrong—the boy’s got a way of pulling a deal together that amazes just about everyone—but there are times when he seems to forget about human values, like compassion. And the ability to enjoy what you have.”

      Jill wasn’t sure how to respond.

      “Frankly, I was beginning to lose faith in him,” Mr. Howard said, grinning sheepishly. “He can be hard and unforgiving. You’ve given me the first ray of hope.”

      Jill took a big swallow of wine.

      “He needs you. Your warmth, your gentleness, your love.”

      Jill wanted to weep with frustration. Andrew Howard was telling her exactly what she didn’t want to hear. “I think you’re mistaken,” she murmured.

      He chuckled. “I doubt that, but I’m an old man, so indulge me, will you?”

      “Of course, but—”

      “There’s a reason you’ve come into his life,” he said, gazing intently at her. “A very important reason.” Andrew closed his eyes. “I feel this more profoundly than I’ve felt anything in a long while. He needs you, Jill.”

      “No … I’m sure he doesn’t.” Jill realized she was beginning to sound desperate, but she couldn’t help it.

      The old man’s eyes opened slowly and he smiled. “And I’m just as sure he does.” He would have continued, but Jordan returned to the room then.

      From the marinated-shrimp appetizer to the homemade mango-and-pineapple ice cream, dinner was one of the most delectable, elegant meals Jill had ever tasted. They lingered over coffee, followed by a glass of smooth brandy. By the end of the evening, Jill felt mellow and warm, a dangerous sensation. Jordan had been wonderful company—witty, charming, fun. He seemed more relaxed, too. Apparently the phone call had brought good news; it was the only thing to which she could attribute his cheerfulness.

      “I can’t thank you enough,” she told Andrew when the limousine arrived to drive her and Jordan back to the hotel. “It was a lovely evening.”

      The older man hugged Jill and whispered close to her ear, “Remember what I said.” Breaking away, he extended his hand, gripping Jordan’s elbow. “It was good of you to come.”

      “I’ll be in touch soon,” Jordan promised.

      “I’ll look forward to hearing from you. Let me know what happens with this shopping-mall project.”

      “I will,” Jordan said.

      The car was cool and inviting in the warm night. Before she realized it, Jill found her head resting on Jordan’s broad shoulder. “Oh, sorry,” she mumbled through a yawn.

      “Are you sleepy?”

      She smiled softly to herself, too tired to fight the power of attraction—and exhaustion. “Maybe a little. Wine makes me sleepy.”

      Jordan pressed her head against his shoulder and held her there. His hand gently stroked her hair. “Do you mind telling me what went on between you and Howard while I was on the phone?”

      Jill went stock-still. “Uh, nothing. What makes you ask?” She decided it was best to pretend she didn’t know what he was talking about.

      “Then why was Howard wearing a silly grin every time he looked at me?” Jordan demanded.

      “I—I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him.” She tried to straighten, but Jordan wouldn’t allow it. After a moment she gave up, too relaxed to put up much of a struggle.

      “I swear there was a twinkle in his eye from the moment I returned after my phone call. It was like I’d been left out of a joke.”

      “I’m sure you’re wrong.”

      Jordan seemed to ponder that. “I doubt it,” he said.

      “Hmm.” She felt sleepy, and leaning against Jordan was strangely comforting.

      “I’ve been thinking about what you said this afternoon,” he told her a few minutes later. His mouth was against her ear, and although she might have been mistaken, she thought his lips lightly brushed her cheek.

      “My sad but true tale,” she whispered on the end of another yawn.

      “About your trouble with the musical rest.”

      “Ah, yes, the rest.”

      “I’m flying back to Seattle tomorrow,” Jordan said abruptly.

      Jill nodded, feeling inexplicably sad, then surprised by the intensity of her reaction. With Jordan in Seattle, they wouldn’t be bumping into each other at every turn. Wouldn’t be arguing, bantering—or kissing. With Jordan in Seattle, she wouldn’t confuse him with the legacy behind Aunt Milly’s dress. “Well … I hope you have a good flight.”

      “I have a meeting Tuesday morning. It would be impossible to cancel at this late date, but I was able to change my flight.”

      “You changed your flight?” Jill prayed he wouldn’t hear the breathless catch in her voice.

      “I don’t have to be at the airport until evening.”

      “When?” It shouldn’t make any difference to her, yet she found herself wanting to know. Needing to know.

      “Eight.”

      Jill was much too dazed to calculate the time difference, but she knew it meant he’d arrive in Seattle in the early morning. He’d be exhausted. Not exactly the best way to show up at a high-powered meeting.

      “I was thinking,” Jordan continued. “I’ve been to Hawaii a number of times but other than meetings or dinner engagements, I haven’t seen much of the islands. I’ve never explored them.”