Page 33 of Soaring Sweethearts

Everything was perfect, except that it was Thursday. And on Thursdays, Jack always came over for dinner. Constance had forgotten when she asked Doug over. A critical oversight. Not that it mattered really. At least it shouldn’t have mattered. Doug and Jack were cordial enough. At least she hoped so. True, things had not gone smoothly with their golf outing. But that was over a month ago. And the awkwardness between them was nothing to the awkwardness between her and Jack.

Two whole weeks had passed with barely a word from Jack. He was unfailingly polite, but aside from basic pleasantries, he’d been silent. Every time she tried to strike up a conversation, he turned bright red and clamped his lips shut.

Obviously, she’d ruined everything. That silly moment where she’d lost her balance and gotten too close. Embarrassment would haunt her for as long as she lived. A moment of foolishness had destroyed a lifetime of friendship. How mortifying.

The doorbell rang. She ran down the stairs to greet Doug, who had been increasingly solicitous in the last few weeks. His kisses had grown bolder and more assertive, though they still didn’t move her half as much as a mere look from Jack. But a proposal was imminent. She was certain of it. And she had almost managed to talk herself into being happy about it.

Pulling open the door, she grinned in anticipation. When she saw Jack instead, framed in the doorway, wearing his best suit, her face fell. She could hardly breathe. Oh, this would be so awkward.

For a long moment, they stared at each other stupidly, as if they’d both forgotten how to speak. His eyes grazed her up and down with intense disapproval. At least she assumed that was what that look meant.

Jack held up a baguette from Giovanni’s, his standard contribution to supper at the Pritchards’. “I brought bread.”

“Thank you,” she said, standing aside stiffly and gesturing him in, trying to pretend it was any other evening with nothing wrong. Nothing wrong at all.

She couldn’t help staring at him from behind as he made his way upstairs, skipping every other step with his long, powerful legs, making his way away from her as quickly as possible.

And that was how Doug caught her, staring after another man, when he arrived with a gorgeous bouquet of tulips and a pink box from Dahlgren’s Bakery all tied up with string.

Doug’s smile dropped, and she couldn’t blame him. They hadn’t sat down at the table yet, and already she’d made a hash of things.

Recovering as quickly as she could, she kissed him on the cheek and smiled for all she was worth.

“Those are beautiful,” she said, taking the flowers. “You are too generous.”

He glanced upstairs where the door had just closed behind Jack. “I have to do my part to win you over.” Eyes still fixed on the upstairs door, he asked lightly, “What’s Jack doing here? I thought this was a family dinner.”

“It is. It’s just that Jack is practically a member of the family. He’s always here for Thursday dinner. I’m so sorry. I should have let you know when I invited you.”

Turning his gaze to her at last, he smiled and said, “Don’t worry about it. I knew he was close to your family. It took me by surprise is all. Let’s go upstairs, shall we?”

She led the way up the stairs to the parlor level, past the framed portraits of the family that Ernie had drawn. Doug paused next to the portrait of her.

“Your brother really is extraordinarily talented. This portrait captured you to perfection with all your grace and beauty.”

Her cheeks heated. “I don’t know what to say.”

Doug caught her hand and gave it a slow, lingering kiss that she tried too hard to enjoy. “I love the way you⁠—”

The door at the top of the stairs opened, making her jump.

“Ernie, is that you?” Jack poked his head out and froze at the sight of them. Why was he staring at them like that? For far too long, he stood absolutely still, glaring at their joined hands. She wanted to let go and step back, but Doug held her tight.

Deliberately bringing her hand to his lips again, Doug ignored Jack. “Shall we go in?” He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and led her up to the door where Jack still stood frozen. “Excuse us,” Doug said politely when Jack didn’t move.

“Jack,” she chided softly, and that seemed to break the spell.

With mumbled apologies, Jack backed through the door and let them pass.

Inside, Prudence and Verity were setting the table, and Mom came bustling out of the kitchen, wearing an apron, with a steaming pot of mashed potatoes. Pop jumped up from his well-worn, blue wingback chair to greet Doug as soon as he entered, dark eyes twinkling.

“Doug, how are you? It’s so good to see you. Welcome to our humble home.”

“You have a lovely place, Reverend,” Doug said, handing the pink box from Dahlgren’s to Prudence who rushed off to the kitchen with wide eyes and a giant grin.

“Call me Samuel,” Pop said, shaking Doug’s hand with both of his.

“Well, Samuel, I appreciate the hospitality.”