Home for the Holidays: The Forgetful Bride / When Christmas Comes. Debbie Macomber
Читать онлайн книгу.
be right there.”
Joe threw Cait a cool smile as he strolled past. “Hello, Cait.”
“Joe.” Her heart was pounding hard, and that was ridiculous. It must have been due to embarrassment, she told herself. Joe was a friend, a boy from the old neighborhood; just because she’d allowed him to kiss her didn’t mean there was—or ever would be—anything romantic between them. The sooner she made him understand this, the better.
“Joe and Cait went out to dinner last night,” Lindy said pointedly to Paul. “He took her to Henry’s.”
“How nice,” Paul commented, clearly more interested in troubleshooting with Joe than discussing Cait’s dating history.
“We had a good time, didn’t we?” Joe asked Cait.
“Yes, very nice,” she responded stiffly.
Joe waited until Paul was out of the room before he stepped back and dropped a kiss on her cheek. Then he announced loudly enough for everyone in the vicinity to hear, “You were incredible last night.”
Chapter Four
“I thought you said nothing happened,” Lindy said, looking intently at a red-faced Cait.
“Nothing did happen.” Cait was furious enough to kick Joe Rockwell in the shins the way he deserved. How dared he say something so…so embarrassing in front of Lindy! And probably within earshot of Paul!
“But then why would he say something like that?”
“How should I know?” Cait snapped. “One little kiss and he makes it sound like—”
“He kissed you?” Lindy asked sharply, her eyes narrowing. “You just got done telling me there’s nothing between the two of you.”
“Good grief, the kiss didn’t mean anything. It was for old times’ sake. Just a platonic little kiss.” All right, she was exaggerating a bit, but it couldn’t be helped.
While she was speaking, Cait gathered her things and shoved them in her briefcase. Then she slammed the lid closed and reached for her coat, thrusting her arms into the sleeves, her movements abrupt and ungraceful.
“Have a nice weekend,” she said tightly, not completely understanding why she felt so annoyed with Lindy. “I’ll see you Monday.” She marched through the office, but paused in front of Joe.
“You wanted something, sweetheart?’ he asked in a cajoling voice.
“You’re despicable!”
Joe looked downright disappointed. “Not low and disgusting?”
“That, too.”
He grinned from ear to ear just the way she knew he would. “I’m glad to hear it.”
Cait bit back an angry retort. It wouldn’t do any good to engage in a verbal battle with Joe Rockwell. He’d have a comeback for any insult she could hurl. Seething, Cait marched to the elevator and jabbed the button impatiently.
“I’ll be by later tonight, darling,” Joe called to her just as the doors were closing, effectively cutting off any protest.
He was joking. He had to be joking. No man in his right mind could possibly expect her to invite him into her home after this latest stunt. Not even the impertinent Joe Rockwell.
Once home, Cait took a long, soothing shower, dried her hair and changed into jeans and a sweater. Friday nights were generally quiet ones for her. She was munching on pretzels and surveying the bleak contents of her refrigerator when there was a knock on the door.
It couldn’t possibly be Joe, she told herself.
It was Joe, balancing a large pizza on the palm of one hand and clutching a bottle of red wine in the other.
Cait stared at him, too dumbfounded at his audacity to speak.
“I come bearing gifts,” he said, presenting the pizza to her with more than a little ceremony.
“Listen here, you…you fool, it’s going to take a whole lot more than pizza to make up for that stunt you pulled this afternoon.”
“Come on, Cait, lighten up a little.”
“Lighten up! You…you…”
“I believe the word you’re looking for is fool.”
“You have your nerve.” She dug her fists into her hips, knowing she should slam the door in his face. She would have, too, but the pizza smelled so good it was difficult to maintain her indignation.
“Okay, I’ll admit it,” Joe said, his deep blue eyes revealing genuine contrition. “I got carried away. You’re right, I am an idiot. All I can do is ask your forgiveness.” He lifted the lid of the pizza box and Cait was confronted by the thickest, most mouthwatering masterpiece she’d ever seen. The top was crowded with no less than ten tempting toppings, all covered with a thick layer of hot melted cheese.
“Do you accept my humble apology?” Joe pressed, waving the pizza under her nose.
“Are there any anchovies on that thing?”
“Only on half.”
“You’re forgiven.” She took him by the elbow and dragged him inside her apartment.
Cait led the way into the kitchen. She got two plates from the cupboard and collected knives, forks and napkins as she mentally reviewed his crimes. “I couldn’t believe you actually said that,” she mumbled, shaking her head. She set the kitchen table, neatly positioning the napkins after shoving the day’s mail to one side. “The least you can do is tell me why you found it necessary to say that in front of Paul. Lindy had already started grilling me. Can you imagine what she and Paul must think now?” She retrieved two wineglasses from the cupboard and set them by the plates. “I’ve never been more embarrassed in my life.”
“Never?” he prompted, opening and closing her kitchen drawers until he located a corkscrew.
“Never,” she repeated. “And don’t think a pizza’s going to ensure lasting peace.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“It’s a start, but you’re going to owe me a long time for this prank, Joseph Rockwell.”
“I’ll be good,” he promised, his eyes twinkling. He agilely removed the cork, tested the wine and then filled both glasses.
Cait jerked out a wicker-back chair and threw herself down. “Did Paul say anything after I left?”
“About what?” Joe slid out a chair and joined her.
Cait had already dished up a large slice for each of them, fastidiously using a knife to disconnect the strings of melted cheese that stretched from the box to their plates.
“About me, of course,” she growled.
Joe handed her a glass of wine. “Not really.”
Cait paused and lifted her eyes to his. “Not really? What does that mean?”
“Only that he didn’t say much about you.”
Joe was taunting her, dangling bits and pieces of information, waiting for her reaction. She should have known better than to trust him, but she was so anxious to find out what Paul had said that she ignored her pride. “Tell me everything he said,” she demanded, “word for word.”
Joe had a mouthful of pizza and Cait was left to wait several moments until he swallowed. “I seem to recall he said you explained that the two of us go a long way back.”
Cait straightened, too curious to hide her interest. “Did he look concerned? Jealous?”
“Paul? No, if anything, he looked bored.”
“Bored,”