44 Cranberry Point. Debbie Macomber

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until after the wedding?”

      “Perhaps, but I prefer to wait.” Maryellen had made too many mistakes, and with this marriage, she wanted to do everything right. When she came to him on their wedding night, she wanted it to be special.

      “We have a child together, so it’s not as if…” His voice trailed off.

      She tilted her head to look up at him, unsure how to say what was in her heart. “Do you mind terribly much?”

      “I mind like hell, but I can wait if it means that much to you.”

      She nodded and then kissed his jaw to let him know she appreciated his patience. Jon tangled his fingers in her dark hair as he pressed his mouth to hers. She tasted his passion and his desire, and her resolve weakened. This was all so new and exciting. Their physical need for each other had always been explosive, their hunger undeniable.

      Suddenly Katie let out a wail from the back bedroom. Jon sighed and broke off the kiss.

      By the time Maryellen reached Katie’s room, her daughter was standing up in her crib, both arms raised to her mother. Maryellen lifted her out and, after changing Katie’s diaper, carried her into the kitchen and placed her in the high chair. Her afternoon snack of juice and an arrowroot cracker was already waiting for her.

      Awake now and in a good mood, Katie grabbed her juice cup and eagerly brought it to her mouth. She took a noisy slurp, then banged the cup against the plastic tray.

      “Every time I look at her, I feel a sense of wonder,” Jon said and squatted down so he was eye-level with his daughter. “You’re Daddy’s little girl, aren’t you?”

      Katie rewarded him with a broad four-tooth grin.

      Jon automatically retrieved his camera from the counter and started snapping pictures.

      “Jon.” Maryellen laughed, unable to stop herself. He was so predictable. When she’d first begun working with him at the Harbor Street Art Gallery, he’d asked her out a dozen times. Maryellen had refused all his invitations. She hadn’t wanted a man in her life. Later she’d succumbed-and soon afterward she’d discovered to her shock that she was pregnant. She’d made every effort to keep Jon out of her child’s life. And hers…

      Like a lot of other women, she’d chosen to be a single mother. Not until Katie was born had she come to realize how much her daughter needed a father and how much she herself wanted and needed Jon’s help in rearing their child. Then it seemed too late. While Jon obviously loved their daughter, he wanted little or nothing to do with her.

      When he’d finished taking photographs of Katie, Jon focused the camera on her. Before Maryellen could react he’d snapped several pictures. When he’d first turned his camera on her, early in their relationship, she’d felt both self-conscious and flattered; now she simply trusted him, never protesting when he aimed his Nikon at her, no matter how unexpected the moment might be. In many ways Jon was most comfortable behind the camera’s lens. It was through photography that he revealed his personality and emotions.

      “I want you and Katie with me as soon as possible,” he said when he’d rewound the film and removed the cartridge.

      “It won’t be long. Two weeks.”

      He looked as if he wanted to argue, but seemed to change his mind. “We’ve waited this long, I don’t suppose another two weeks will kill me.”

      “The anticipation is half the pleasure.”

      He growled something she couldn’t decipher. She could guess, though, and it made her smile.

      “I thought we could ask Pastor Flemming to officiate.” Maryellen didn’t attend church regularly, but her mother’s best friend, Olivia Lockhart, had recently married Jack Griffin, and the Methodist minister had performed the ceremony. She’d found it deeply moving.

      “What about Judge Lockhart-or Griffin, I guess?”

      “She’s using both names,” Maryellen said.

      Jon nodded.

      “I-I’d like a religious service.” Olivia was a longtime family friend, but Maryellen had already decided against a civil wedding. When she spoke her vows, she was committing herself, before God and the community, to love Jon for the rest of her life.

      Jon’s eyes narrowed. “You want to be married in a church? You’re sure?”

      “Either at the Methodist Church or perhaps on your property, if that’s all right?” Jon had inherited the land from his grandfather and had built a beautiful two-story house there. The acreage overlooked Puget Sound, with Mount Rainier as a backdrop.

      “It’s fine,” he said. “What about the reception?”

      “At the house, too.” All at once she wondered if she was asking too much of him. “I don’t imagine we’ll have many guests, just family and a few friends. All we’d need to serve is wedding cake and champagne. If the weather cooperates, we could be married outside.” With the rhododendrons, many of which grew wild on the property, and the azaleas in bloom, the place would be stunning.

      He nodded. “Perhaps we should serve a few hors d’oeuvres. I can easily prepare them a day or two before.”

      “Jon…”

      “A friend of mine can do the pictures, but I want to take the ones of you myself.”

      Maryellen could tell he was warming to the subject of their wedding. “Can we put all this together in two weeks?” she asked.

      Jon didn’t hesitate. “Of course we can.” At her delighted smile, he added, “Any other requests?”

      She had one, but wasn’t sure how to ask.

      “What?” The question was wary, as if he sensed her mood.

      “The guest list…”

      “How many?”

      “It’s not the number. Mom and my sister and a few friends, but there are a couple of people I’d like to invite and I don’t know if you’d approve.”

      Katie squealed and dropped the heavy-bottomed cup on her tray.

      Jon kissed Maryellen’s temple. “You know there’s almost nothing I can refuse you. Who do you want to invite?”

      She leaned into him, not wanting to see his face when she told him. “Your father and stepmother.” Jon had only recently revealed how his parents had chosen to protect his younger brother at his expense. They had lied on the witness stand and, as a result, Jon had been convicted of dealing drugs. He’d served seven years in prison. Not once in all those years or the years since had he spoken to either his father or his stepmother.

      Jon tensed and slowly released Maryellen. “No. They are no longer part of my life. They cast me aside and-”

      “You’re all they have left.” His brother had died a tragic death and Maryellen was convinced that his family regretted what they’d done, both in betraying Jon and in not forcing his brother to face the consequences of his crime.

      Jon

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