The Man You'll Marry Read online

  “I should’ve paid for my own,” she said once they were seated, feeling vaguely guilty that he’d paid for both meals. Janice might be the jealous type, and Shelly didn’t want her to hear about this.

  His eyes met hers, steady and direct. “When I ask you to join me, I pick up the bill.”

  Any argument she had vanished before it reached her lips.

  After that, Shelly concentrated on her fish and chips, which were fresh and absolutely delicious. Mark seemed equally preoccupied with his meal.

  “What brought you to the beach today?” Shelly asked, finishing the last few French fries in her basket. Perhaps if they could determine what had brought them both to a lonely stretch of beach two hours from Seattle, they might be able to figure out how they’d happened upon each other once more.

  “I have a beach house here. After tax time I generally try to get away for a few days. I like to come down here and relax.”

  “I had no idea.” She found it inordinately important that he understand she hadn’t somehow managed to stalk him across the state. Their meeting was pure coincidence…again.

  “Don’t worry about it, Shelly. You couldn’t possibly have known about the beach house or that I intended to be here today. I didn’t know it myself until this morning.”

  Shelly suddenly wished Mark hadn’t kissed her. Everything was becoming far too complicated.

  “You’re very talented,” he told her out of the blue. “I bought one of your DVDs the other day.”

  “How’d you know what I do?” Shelly felt flustered by his praise; she was at a complete loss to understand why it meant so much to her.

  “I saw it on the income tax form and I was curious about your work.”

  “Curiosity seems to have gotten us both into trouble,” she said.

  Mark grinned, a shameless, irresistible grin. The kind of grin that makes a woman forget all sorts of things. Like the fact that he was practically engaged. And that he was a tall, blue-eyed stranger who, according to Aunt Milly’s letter, would soon become her husband….

  Shelly scrambled to her feet, hurrying toward the beach. Mark followed.

  “You shouldn’t look at me like that,” she said, her voice soft and bewildered.

  “You said it was just a kiss. Was it?”

  “Yes,” she lied boldly. “How could it be anything more?”

  “You tell me.”

  Shelly had no answers to give him.

  “While you’re at it, explain why we keep bumping into each other or why I can’t stop thinking about you.”

  “You can’t?” She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him, either, but she wasn’t ready to admit it.

  “No.” He stood behind her, his hands caressing her shoulders. Leisurely he stroked the length of her arms. His touch was so light that she thought she was imagining it, and she felt both excited and afraid.

  He turned her around and gazed at her lips. “If that was just a run-of-the-mill kiss, then why do I feel the need to do it again?”

  “I don’t know.”

  His lips brushed hers. Briefly, with a whisper-soft touch, as though he was testing her response. Shelly closed her eyes and moaned. She didn’t want to feel any of this. They were so far apart, such different people. Besides, he was involved with another woman and she was involved with her career.

  When the kiss ended and he slowly released her, it was all Shelly could do to keep from sinking to the sand. “I have…to get back to Seattle,” she managed to say, backing away from him. She turned and took four or five wobbly steps before she realized she was headed toward the Pacific Ocean.

  “Shelly?”

  “Yes?”

  “Seattle is due north. If you continue going west, you’ll eventually end up in Hawaii.”

  “Oh, yeah, right,” she mumbled, reversing her direction, eager now to escape.

  The first person Shelly called when she got home was Jill. “Can you come over?” she asked without preamble. She couldn’t keep the panic out of her voice.

  “Sure. What’s wrong?”

  “I saw Mark again.”

  “And?”

  “Let me put it like this. We kissed and I haven’t stopped trembling since.”

  Jill’s romantic sigh came over the receiver. “This I’ve got to hear. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  Actually it was closer to seven. Shelly had begun pacing the moment she got off the phone. She’d checked her watch repeatedly, waiting desperately for a dose of Jill’s good sense.

  “Shelly,” Jill said, smiling as she breezed into the apartment, “what happened to your hair?”

  Shelly smoothed down her curls. “I was at Long Beach.”

  “That’s where you saw Mark? That’s kind of a coincidence, isn’t it?”

  “I saw him earlier in the week, too…. Remember I told you I was being audited by the IRS? Lo and behold, guess who was in their waiting room when I arrived?”

  “I don’t need to be a rocket scientist to figure that one out. Mark Brady!”

  “Right.” Shelly rubbed her damp palms along her jeans in agitation. They, at least, had finally dried.

  “And?”

  Shelly groaned. “Can’t you see what’s happening? This is the third time we’ve been thrown together in the past few days. I’d never seen the man before, and all of a sudden he’s around every corner. Then the wedding dress fit. It fit you…and it fits me.”

  “I agree that’s all rather odd, but I wouldn’t put too much stock in it, if I were you.”

  “Put too much stock in it…Listen, Jill, no man’s ever made me feel the way Mark does—all weak inside and, I don’t know, special somehow. To be perfectly honest, I don’t like it.” She closed her eyes, hoping to chase away the memory of his touch, but it did no good. “You want to know the real kicker?” she asked abruptly, turning to face her friend. “He’s engaged.”

  “Engaged,” Jill echoed, her voice as startled as her expression.

  “He keeps insisting it’s not official yet. Nevertheless he’s involved with someone else.”

  “But it was you he kissed,” Jill pointed out.

  “Don’t remind me.” Shelly covered her eyes with both hands. “I don’t mind telling you, I find this whole thing unnerving.”

  “Obviously. Here,” Jill said, directing Shelly toward the kitchen. “Now sit down. I’ll make us some tea, then we can try to reason this out. Honestly, Shell, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so upset.”

  “I’m not upset!” she cried. “I’m confused. There’s a big difference. I’m…I’m trapped.” Despite all logic to the contrary, she couldn’t help fearing that the entire course of her life was about to change because her aunt Milly had fallen asleep watching Dr. Phil one day and had some nonsensical dream.

  “Trapped?” Jill said. “Aren’t you being a bit dramatic?”

  “I don’t know anymore.” Shelly rested her elbows on the table, buried her face in her hands and breathed in deeply. She had a tendency to become emotional, especially over family issues; she realized that. But this was different. This was scary.

  “Calm down,” Jill advised. “Once you think it through in a rational manner, you’ll realize there’s a perfectly ordinary explanation for everything.”

  Jill’s serenity lent Shelly some badly needed confidence. “All right, you explain it.”

  “I can’t,” Jill admitted matter-of-factly, pouring boiling water into Shelly’s teapot. “I’m not even going to try. My advice to you—once again—is to quit taking all of this so seriously. If a relationship develops between you and Mark, just enjoy it—provided the other woman’s out of the picture, of course! But forget about that dress.”

  “Easy for you to say.”

  “That’s true,” Jill agreed. “But you’re going to have to do it for your own peace of mind.”

  Shelly knew good advice when she heard it. “You’re right. I’m leaping into the deep end unnecessarily.”

  “A dress
can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

  Shelly always counted on her friend’s levelheadedness. Although Jill had given her basically the same advice several days earlier, Shelly needed to hear it again.

  Jill prepared two cups of tea and carried them to the table. “Are you going to be all right now?”

  Shelly nodded. “Of course. I just needed a friend to remind me that I was overreacting.” She took a sip of tea, surprised by how much it revived her. “You’re still planning to see Jersey Boys with me tomorrow afternoon, aren’t you?”

  The recent Broadway hit was showing locally, and Shelly and Jill had purchased their tickets several weeks earlier.

  “That’s not tomorrow, is it?” Jill looked stricken, her teacup poised midway to her mouth.

  “Jill…”

  “I promised I’d work for Sharon Belmont. She’s got some family thing she has to attend. She was desperate and I completely forgot about the play. Oh, dear, you’ll have to go without me.”

  “You’re sure you can’t get out of it?” Shelly couldn’t help feeling disappointed.

  “I’m sure. I’m really sorry, Shell.”

  Although frustrated that Jill couldn’t come with her, Shelly decided to go to the theater alone. She wasn’t pleased about it and, given her proclivity for running into Mark Brady, she didn’t feel entirely convinced that this wasn’t another attempt by the fates to regulate their lives.

  However, if she stayed home, she’d be missing a wonderful show. Not only that, she’d be giving in to a nebulous and irrational fear, something she refused to do.

  The following afternoon, Shelly dressed carefully, in the type of conservative outfit her mother would have approved of. Mark, too, would approve of her rose-colored linen dress with its matching jacket…. The minute the thought flashed through her head, she rejected it.

  She was on her way out the door when her phone rang. For a split second she toyed with the idea of not answering. More than likely it was her mother, checking in to see if Shelly had met a prospective husband yet. Her calls had become more frequent and more urgent since Aunt Milly’s dress had arrived.

  But years of habit prompted her to reach for the phone.

  “Shelly.” Mark’s voice came over the line. “I was about to leave for the afternoon’s performance of Jersey Boys. Since we seem to have this tendency to run into each other everywhere we go, I thought I should probably clear it with you. If you’re going to be there, I’ll go another time.”

  Eight

  “Actually I was planning to see it this afternoon myself,” Shelly admitted hesitantly. “Jill had to cancel at the last minute.”

  “It seems Janice can’t attend, either.”

  Hearing the other woman’s name, the woman Mark loved, had a curious and unexpected effect on Shelly. Her heart sank, and she felt a sharp pang of disappointment. She rebounded quickly, however, forcing a lightness into her voice, a blitheness she didn’t feel. “Mark, there’s no need for you to miss the show. I’ll call the ticket office and see about an exchange.”

  “No, I will,” Mark said.

  “That’s ridiculous. Jill really wanted to see this musical and—”

  “Would it really be so terrible if we both attended the same performance?”

  “Uh…” The question caught Shelly unprepared. Mark was the one who’d suggested they avoid each other.

  “What could it possibly hurt? You have your ticket and I have mine. It’d be absurd to let them go to waste because we’re afraid of seeing each other again, don’t you think?”

  Forming a single, coherent thought seemed beyond Shelly at that moment. After her conversation with Jill the day before, followed by the pep talk she’d given herself, she’d recovered a degree of composure. Now, all of a sudden, she wasn’t sure of anything.

  “I don’t think it should matter,” she said finally, although it did matter.

  “Good. Enjoy the show.”

  “You, too.”

  The theater was within walking distance of her apartment building, and Shelly left as soon as she’d finished talking to Mark. He was right. Just because they each had tickets to the same play was no reason for either of them to be penalized.

  So Mark was going to see Jersey Boys. It wasn’t the sort of production she would’ve thought he’d enjoy. But the man was full of surprises. Riding mopeds on the beach, kissing so spectacularly, and now this…

  Shelly’s mind was full of Mark as she hurried down the steep hill on Cherry Street. The theater was only a block away when she saw him. Her pulse soared and she didn’t know if she should smile and wave or simply ignore him.

  She didn’t need to do either. He stood on the sidewalk, waiting for her.

  “You’re late,” he said, glancing at his watch. “But then you traditionally are.” His grin was wide and welcoming. “I can’t see any reason not to watch the play together,” he went on. “What do you say?”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive.” He offered her his arm, and she reflected that it was the kind of old-fashioned courtesy she expected from Mark.

  The usher seated them and smiled constantly as if to say they were a handsome couple. Shelly was tempted to explain that Mark was engaged to someone else; luckily she managed to hold her tongue. Minutes after they’d settled into their seats, the curtain rose.

  The musical was as lively and as good as the reviews claimed, and Shelly enjoyed herself thoroughly. Throughout the performance, however, she was all too aware of Mark sitting next to her. She found herself wondering if he was equally aware of her. She also found herself wondering how long it would be before they “bumped” into each other again—and hoped it was soon.

  By the end of the show, Shelly felt inspired and full of enthusiasm, eager to start a new project of her own. As she and Mark left the theater, she talked excitedly about her idea for the “ocean moods” series. He asked a few questions and even suggested some shots. Before she realized it, they were several blocks past the theater, headed in the opposite direction from her apartment. Shelly paused and glanced around.

  “There’s an excellent Chinese restaurant in this neighborhood,” was all Mark said. Without giving her the opportunity to decline, he gently guided her toward the place he’d mentioned.

  It was early for dinner, and they were seated immediately. Although they’d been talking comfortably during their walk, Shelly suddenly felt self-conscious. She played with her linen napkin, smoothing it across her lap.

  “I’m not a big fan of musicals, so I hadn’t expected to like the show as much as I did,” he said after a while.

  In that case, Shelly considered it a bit odd that he’d ordered tickets for this production, but perhaps he’d gotten them because Janice had wanted to see Jersey Boys.

  “It’s a little frightening the way we keep running across each other, isn’t it?” she ventured.

  “I can see how you’d find it disconcerting,” Mark answered.

  “You don’t?”

  Mark shrugged. “I haven’t given it much thought.”

  “I’ll admit all these…coincidences do throw me,” she said, tracing the outline of a fire-breathing dragon on the menu cover. “But I’m learning to deal with it.”

  “So you feel you’ve been caught in something beyond your control?” Mark surprised her by asking.

  Shelly lifted her gaze to his, struck by the intensity she read in his eyes. “No, not really. Well…a little, maybe. Do you?”

  “It wasn’t my aunt Milly who had the dream.”

  Shelly smiled and dropped her gaze. “No, but as my friend Jill reminded me recently, no sixty-year-old dress is going to dictate my life. Or yours,” she felt obliged to add. Then she understood why he’d asked the question. “You must feel overwhelmed. All of a sudden I’ve been thrust into your life. There’s no escaping me, is there?” she said wryly. “Every time you turn around, there I am.”

  “Are you going to stand up and tell ever
yone in the restaurant that you refuse to marry me?”

  “No!” Shelly was shocked by his remark until she remembered she’d done exactly that the first time they met.

  “If you can resist public declarations, then I think I can bear up under the pressure.”

  Shelly ignored his mild sarcasm. “I’m not interested in marriage yet,” she told him solemnly—just in case he’d forgotten. “I’m satisfied with my life. And I’m too busy for a husband and family.”

  She hadn’t noticed how forcefully she was speaking until she saw several people at other tables glancing in her direction. Instantly she lowered her voice. “Sorry, my views on marriage seem to be more fervent than I realized. But I’m not about to let either my mother or my aunt Milly determine when I decide to settle down and marry.”

  “Personally, I can’t see you ever settling down,” Mark said with a small grin. “You don’t have to worry. When you’re ready, you’ll know it.”

  “Did you?” She hadn’t meant to bring up Janice, but it seemed wise to remind him—and her—that there was someone else in his life.

  Mark raised one shoulder casually. “More or less. I took a good, long look at my life and discovered I’d already achieved several of my professional goals. It was time to invest my energy in developing the personal aspects—marriage, children and the like.”

  Mark talked about marriage as if it were the next chapter in a book he was reading or part of a connect-the-dots picture. Shelly couldn’t stop herself from frowning.

  “You have a problem with that?”

  “Not a problem, exactly. I happen to think of marriage a bit differently, that’s all.”

  “In what way?”

  He seemed genuinely interested, otherwise she would’ve kept her opinions to herself. “People should fall in love,” she said slowly. “I don’t think it’s necessary or even possible to plan for that. Love can be unexpected—it can take a couple by surprise, knock them both off their feet.”

  “You make falling in love sound like an accident—like tripping on the stairs or something.”

  Shelly smiled. “In some ways, I think that’s how it should be. Marriage is one of the most important decisions in anyone’s life, so it should be a deeply felt decision. It should feel inevitable. It’s the union of two lives, after all. So you can’t simply check your watch and announce ‘it’s time.’” She was suddenly concerned that she’d spoken out of turn and might have offended him, but one quick glance assured her that wasn’t the case.