“One of what?” He reappeared brandishing a chicken leg.

“You get hungry after sex,” she whispered.

“I didn’t eat on the plane, and yes,” he said, grinning shyly at her, “I suspect you’re right.”

She yawned and sat on the bar stool. “Anything interesting in there?”

“Leftover chicken, cottage cheese three weeks past its expiration date, Swiss cheese and an orange.”

“I’ll take the orange.” She yawned again.

“Have you been getting enough sleep?” He peeled the orange and handed it to her, frowning. It wasn’t his imagination; she was pale.

“More than ever. I seem to be exhausted lately. All I do is work and sleep.”

“Have you seen a doctor?”

“No. I’m fine,” she said, forcing a smile. She didn’t want to waste their precious time together discussing her sleeping patterns. She ate a section of the rather dry orange. “I better shower and get dressed.”

“For the show?”

She nodded, sad that part of her weekend with James would be spent on the job, but there was no help for it. It was difficult enough to trade schedules in order to fly up to Seattle.

“I’m looking forward to seeing what a talented woman I married.”

“I hope I don’t disappoint you.”

“Not possible.” He shook his head solemnly.

“James,” she said, staring down at the orange. “Do you ever wonder what’s really there between us?”

He tossed the chicken bone into the garbage. “What do you mean?”

“Sometimes I’m afraid all we share is a strong physical attraction. Is there more?”

He swallowed; the question seemed to make him uncomfortable. “What makes you ask that?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, we can’t keep our hands off each other.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“I think about us making love—a lot. Probably more than I should. You’re a brilliant man. I’m fairly sure you didn’t marry me because I challenge you intellectually.”

“I married you because I fell in love with you.”

He made it sound so uncomplicated.

“I love the way a room lights up when you walk into it,” he said. “When you laugh, I want to laugh, too. I’ve never heard you sing or seen you perform on stage, but there’s music in you, Summer. I sensed it the first night we met.

“Just being with you makes me want to smile. Not that you’re telling jokes or doing pratfalls or anything—it’s your attitude. When I’m with you, the world’s a better place.”

Summer felt her throat tighten.

“Like your father, an attorney or a judge can develop a jaded perspective in life. It’s difficult to trust when the world’s filled with suspicion. It’s difficult to love when you deal with the consequences of hate every day. Perhaps that’s been my problem all along.”

“Not trusting?”

“Yes. You came to me without defenses, devastated, vulnerable, broken. I’d been hurt, too, so I knew how you felt because I’d experienced those same emotions. I’d walk through the fires of hell before I’d allow anyone to do that to you again.” He walked over and held out his hand. “It’s more than just words when I say I love you, Summer. It’s my heart, my whole heart.”

She gripped his hand with both of hers.

“If you’re afraid our relationship is too much about sexual attraction, then maybe we should put a hold on anything physical for the rest of the weekend. Instead, we’ll concentrate on getting to know each other better.”

“Do you think it’s possible?” She gave him a knowing look, then leaned forward. The front of her robe gaped open, and Summer watched as he stared at her breasts, then carefully averted his eyes.

“It’s possible,” he said in a low voice. “Not easy, but possible.”

“I need to take a shower before I leave for work.” She slipped off the stool and started to walk away. Then she turned, looked over her shoulder and smiled seductively. “Remember what fun we had in the shower, James?”

James paled. “Summer,” he warned through clenched teeth. “If we’re going to stay out of the bedroom, I’ll need your help.”

She turned to face him full on. “The shower isn’t in the bedroom.”

“Go have your shower,” he said stiffly. “I’ll wait for you here.”

“You’re sure?” She released the sash and let the silk robe fall open.

He made a sound that could mean various things—but he didn’t make a move. Feeling slightly disappointed, Summer walked slowly into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

She’d just stepped inside and adjusted the water when the shower door was pulled open.

Naked, James joined her there. “You know I can’t resist you,” he muttered.

“Yes,” she said softly. “I can’t resist you, either.”

Summer and her mother were busy in the kitchen at the Lawton family home. James sat in the living room with his father-in-law, watching a Sunday-morning sports show.

James didn’t have the heart to tell Hank that he didn’t follow sports all that much. And he sure wasn’t going to admit he found them boring.

“Helen’s going to be talking to you later,” Hank said, relaxing during a spell of uninterrupted beer commercials. “She’s having trouble getting a decent hall for the wedding reception in April. The church is no problem, mind you, but finding a hall’s become pretty complicated.”

“Summer said something about the Moose Hall.”

“That fell through. I’ll let Helen do the explaining.”

“Does Summer know this?”

“Not yet. Couldn’t see upsetting her. The girl’s been miserable ever since she got back from Vegas. You want my opinion?” He didn’t wait for a response. “You should take her to Seattle with you now and be done with it. It’s clear to me the two of you belong together.”

James wished it was that easy.

“I know, I know,” Hank said, scooting forward to the edge of his chair as some football players ran back onto a muddy field. “She has to fulfill her contract. Never understood where the girl got her singing talent.”

“She’s fabulous.” Summer’s performance had shocked James. Her singing had moved him deeply and her acting impressed him.

Hank beamed proudly. “She’s good, isn’t she? I’ll never forget the night I first went to see her perform at Disneyland. It was all I could do not to stand up and yell out, ‘Hey, that’s my little girl up there.’”

“There’s such power in her voice.”

“Enough to crack crystal, isn’t it? You’d never suspect it hearing her speak, but the minute she opens her mouth to sing, watch out. I’ve never heard anything like it.”

James had come away awed by her talent. That she’d willingly walk away from her career to be his wife, willingly take her chances in a new city, humbled him.

“She could go all the way to the top.”

Hank nodded. “I think so, too, if she wanted, but that’s the thing. She loves singing, don’t get me wrong, but Summer will be just as happy humming lullabies to her babies as she would be performing in some hit Broadway show.”

James’s heart clutched at the thought of Summer singing to their children.

“Helen’s mother used to sing,” Hank said, but his eyes didn’t leave the television screen. He frowned when the sports highlights moved on to tennis. “Ruth didn’t sing professionally, but she was a member of the church choir for years. Talent’s a funny business. Summer was singing from the time she was two. Now, Adam, he sounds like a squeaky door.”

“Me, too.” All James could hope was that their children inherited their mother’s singing ability.

“Don’t worry about it. She loves you anyway.”

James wasn’t quite sure how to respond, but fortunately he didn’t have to, because Helen poked her head in at that moment.

“Brunch is ready,” she said. “Hank, turn off that blasted TV.”

“But, Helen—”

“Hank!”

“All right, all right.” Reluctantly Hank reached for the TV controller and muted the television. His wife didn’t seem to notice, and Hank sent James a conspiratorial wink. “Compromise,” he whispered. “She won’t even know.”

James sat next to Summer at the table. “This looks delicious,” he said to Helen. His mother-in-law had obviously gone to a lot of trouble with this brunch. She’d prepared sausages and ham slices and bacon, along with some kind of egg casserole, fresh-baked sweet rolls, coffee and juice.

Helen waited until they’d all filled their plates before she mentioned the April wedding date. “The reason I wanted to talk to the two of you has to do with the wedding date.” She paused, apparently unsure how to proceed. “I wasn’t too involved with Adam’s wedding when he married Denise. I had no idea we’d need to book the reception hall so far in advance.”

“But I thought you already had the place,” Summer wailed.

“Didn’t happen, sweetheart,” Hank said. “Trust me, your mother’s done her best. I can’t tell you how many phone calls she’s made.”

“If we’re going to have the wedding you deserve,” her mother said pointedly, “it’ll need to be later than April. My goodness, it takes time just to get the invitations printed, and we can’t order them until we have someplace nice for the reception.”

“How much later?” was James’s question.

Helen and Hank exchanged looks. “June might work, but September would be best.”

“September,” Summer cried.

“September’s out of the question.” With the primary in September, James couldn’t manage time away for a wedding. “If we’re going to wait that long, anyway, then let’s do it after the election in November.” The minute he made the suggestion, James realized he’d said the wrong thing.

“November.” Summer’s voice sagged with defeat. “So what am I supposed to do between April and November?”

“Move up to Seattle with James, of course,” Hank said without a qualm.

“Absolutely not,” Helen protested. “We can’t have our daughter living with James before they’re married.”

“Helen, for the love of heaven, they’re already married. Remember?”

“Yes, but no one knows that.”

“James?”

Everyone turned to him. “Other than my dad, no one knows I’m married, either.”

Summer seemed to wilt. “It sounds like what you’re saying is that you don’t want me with you.”

“No!” James could hear the hurt and disappointment in her voice and wished he knew some way to solve the problem, but he didn’t. “You know that isn’t true.”