James had the same reaction. “We’ll talk about it and get back to you,” he told his in-laws. Both were content to leave it at that.
After brunch he and Summer took a walk around her old neighborhood. Their pace was leisurely, and she didn’t say anything for a couple of blocks. She clasped her hands behind her back as if she didn’t want to be close to him just then. He gave her the space she needed, but longed to put his arm around her.
“I know you’re disappointed, sweetheart. So am I,” he began. “I—”
“This is what you meant about problems with the April date, isn’t it? The election.”
“Yes, but...”
“I feel like excess baggage in your life.”
“Summer, you are my life.”
“Oh, James, how did everything get so messed up?”
“It’s my fault,” he muttered, ramming his fingers through his hair. “I was the one who suggested we go ahead with the wedding right away.”
“Thank heaven. I’d hate to think how long we’d have to wait if you hadn’t.”
“I was being purely selfish and only a little practical. I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep from making love to you much longer.”
“And you’re traditional enough—gentleman enough—to prefer to marry me first,” she suggested softly.
“Something like that.” She made him sound nobler than he was. He’d married her because he wanted to. Because he couldn’t imagine not marrying her.
“As you said, the problem is the election. I had no business marrying you when I did. Not when I knew very well what this year would be like.”
“The campaign?”
He nodded. “I’ve never been a political person, but it’s a real factor in this kind of situation.”
“I thought judges were nonpartisan.”
“They are, but trust me, sweetheart, there’s plenty of politics involved. I want to be elected, Summer, but not enough to put you through this.”
She was silent again for a long moment. “One question.”
“Anything.”
She lowered her head and increased her pace. “Why didn’t you tell anyone we’re married?”
“I told my campaign manager you and I were engaged.” James hesitated, selecting his words carefully.
“And?”
“And he asked me to wait until after the election to go through with the wedding. He had a number of reasons, some valid, others not, but he did say one thing that made sense.”
“What?”
“He reminded me that I’m paying him good money for his advice.”
“I see.” She gave a short laugh that revealed little amusement. “I don’t even know your campaign manager and already I dislike him.”
“Ralph. Ralph Southworth. He isn’t so bad.”
“What will we do, James?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you want me to wait until after the election to move to Seattle?”
“No,” he said vehemently.
“But you have to consider Ralph’s advice.”
“Something like that.” They walked past a school yard with a battered chain-link fence. It looked as if every third-grade class for the past twenty years had made it their personal goal to climb that fence.
“I’ve been thinking about this constantly,” James told her. It had weighed down his heart for nearly two weeks, ever since his talk with Ralph. “There are no easy solutions.”
“We don’t need to decide right now, do we?”
“No.” Actually James was relieved. At the moment he was more than willing to say the heck with it and move Summer to Seattle in April.
“Then let’s both give it some thought in the next few weeks.”
“Good idea.” He placed one arm around her shoulders. “I’ve worked hard for this opportunity to sit on the bench, Summer, but it’s not worth losing you.”
“Losing me?” She smiled up at him. “You’d have a very hard time getting rid of me, James Wilkens, and don’t you forget it.”
James chuckled and kissed her lightly. It was a bittersweet kiss, reminding him that in a matter of hours he’d be leaving her again. Only this time he didn’t know exactly when he could be with her again.
Summer rubbed her face against the side of his. “Not so long ago, I had to practically beg you to kiss me in public.”
“That was before you had me completely twisted around your little finger.” The changes she’d already wrought in his life astonished him. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but whatever it was I’m grateful.”
“Your flight leaves in less than five hours.”
“I know.”
“I suppose we should go back to the apartment.” She looked up at him and raised her delicate eyebrows. “That’s plenty of time for what I have in mind.”
“Summer...”
“Yes, James?” She batted her eyelashes at him. He grinned. She managed to be sexy and funny simultaneously, and he found that completely endearing.
They made their farewells to her family and were soon on their way back to the apartment. There was time to make love, he decided, shower and pack. Then he’d be gone again.
Summer must have been thinking the same thing because she said, “We always seem to be leaving each other.”
James couldn’t even tell her it wouldn’t be for long. They parked in the lot outside her apartment, but as soon as they were out of the car James knew something wasn’t right. Summer tensed, her gaze on the man climbing out of the car next to theirs.
“Summer?” James asked.
“It’s Brett,” she said in a low voice.
“Brett?” It took James a moment to make the connection. “The Brett?”
Her nod was almost imperceptible.
“What’s he want?”
“I don’t know.”
Apparently they were about to find out. He was big—football-player size—and tanned. He wore faded cutoff jeans, a tank top and several gold chains around his neck.
“Hello, Brett,” Summer said stiffly.
“Summer.” He turned to James. “Who’s this? A friend of your father’s?”