Free The Manning Grooms by Debbie Macomber Page B

aren’t we?”
    Charlotte nodded. She was overreacting, and she knew it. After shelling out ninety bucks she was wearing those jeans, no matter how they made her look.
    “Good,” Carrie said, leaping excitedly to her feet. “I’ve got the picnic basket packed. Honestly, Mom, we’re bringing so much food, we could open a concession stand.”
    “I didn’t want to run short.” Charlotte didn’t bother denying that she’d packed enough to feed Jason’s entire family. A fruit-and-cheese plate, sandwiches, potato salad, a batch of chocolate chip cookies and a variety of other goodies she’d thrown in at the last minute.
    Jason had casually mentioned the picnic the day before, when she’d gone to the hospital to visit Higgins. The dog was just beginning to respond to them. He was recovering slowly, but according to Jason, they’d be able to bring him home within a week. Charlotte soon discovered that visiting her new dog was a dual-edged sword. Every time she was at the veterinary hospital, she ran into Jason. Usually they had a cup of coffee together and talked; once he’d suggested dinner and Charlotte hadn’t been able to dredge up a single excuse not to join him. He’d even taken her and Carrie to a movie. Now she was meeting his family, and it terrified her.
    Ten minutes later, as Charlotte was rearranging their picnic basket to find room for a tablecloth and paper napkins, Jason arrived.
    Carrie answered the door and directed him to the kitchen.
    “Jason’s here,” she said unnecessarily.
    “Hi.” Charlotte greeted him nervously, turning around, a tense smile on her face. She was watching him carefully, wanting to read his expression when he saw her in the tight jeans.
    “Hi, I was just—” He stopped abruptly, letting whatever he meant to say fade into nothingness. He stood before her, his mouth dangling open. Slowly his eyes widened.
    With appreciation.
    At least she thought it was appreciation. She prayed that was what it was, and not disgust or shock or any of the emotions she’d endured that morning.
    “I…I’ve got everything ready.” She rubbed her suddenly damp hands down her thighs. “Carrie says I’ve packed too much food, but I don’t think so. I hope you like cantaloupe, because I just added one.” She knew she was chattering aimlessly, but couldn’t seem to stop.
    “You look…fabulous.”
    “I do?” Charlotte hated how uncertain she sounded.
    Jason nodded as though he wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off her long enough to play ball, which had to be the nicest compliment he’d ever paid her.
    “Carrie talked me into buying the jeans,” she mumbled, tossing the napkins on top of the heap and closing the lid as far as it would go.
    “Remind me to thank her.”
    He didn’t say any more, just reached for the basket and brought it out to the car. Charlotte was so relieved, she wanted to weep with gratitude. Her spirits lifted—more than lifted—they soared as she and Carrie followed him. Carrie climbed in the backseat as Charlotte got in the front, hoping her jeans wouldn’t split.
    The ball field was several miles away, near the Southcenter shopping mall. Charlotte was grateful to Carrie for carrying the conversation. Thrilled with the outing, the girl had plenty to say.
    Charlotte had never been to this park before, and when she saw it she was astonished she hadn’t heard of it. It had several baseball diamonds, and an equal number of soccer fields. The Green River intersected the park, with several footbridges spanning its banks.
    “I didn’t mention I was bringing anyone,” Jason told her after he’d parked the car. “Everyone’s going to ask you a bunch of embarrassing questions. Do you mind?”
    “No,” she answered, having trouble meeting his eyes. “Don’t worry about it.” She was a big girl—she could deal with a bit of curiosity.
    “I don’t usually bring someone.”
    Charlotte stiffened, not because she was timid or dreaded the questions, but