Home for the Holidays: The Forgetful Bride / When Christmas Comes. Debbie Macomber
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when you said I was so predictable?” he asked, giving her a reproachful look.
With her hands resting on his shoulders and her feet dangling in midair, she felt vulnerable and small. “Nothing. It was just that I assumed you drove one of these Sherman-tank trucks, and I was right. I just hadn’t seen it before.”
“The kind of truck I drive bothers you?” His brow furrowed in a scowl.
“Not at all. What’s the matter with you today, Joe? You’re so touchy.”
“I am not touchy,” he snapped.
“Fine. Would you mind putting me down then?” His large hands were squeezing her waist almost painfully, though she doubted he was aware of it. She couldn’t imagine what had angered him. Unless it was the fact that Paul had called her—which didn’t make sense. Maybe, like most men, he just hated shopping.
He lowered her slowly to the asphalt and released her with seeming reluctance. “I need a coffee break,” he announced grimly.
“But we just arrived.”
Joe forcefully expelled his breath. “It doesn’t matter. I need something to calm my nerves.”
If he needed a caffeine fix so early in the day, Cait wondered how he’d manage during the next few hours. The stores quickly became crowded this time of year, especially on a Saturday. By ten it would be nearly impossible to get from one aisle to the next.
By twelve, she knew: Joe disliked Christmas shopping every bit as much as she’d expected.
“I’ve had it,” Joe complained after making three separate trips back to the truck to deposit their spoils.
“Me, too,” Cait agreed laughingly. “This place is turning into a madhouse.”
“How about some lunch?” Joe suggested. “Someplace far away from here. Like Tibet.”
Cait laughed again and tucked her arm in his. “That sounds like a great idea.”
Outside, they noticed several cars circling the lot looking for a parking space and three of them rushed to fill the one Joe vacated. Two cars nearly collided in their eagerness. One man leapt out of his and shook an angry fist at the other driver.
“So much for peace and goodwill,” Joe commented. “I swear Christmas brings out the worst in everyone.”
“And the best,” Cait reminded him.
“To be honest, I don’t know what crammed shopping malls and fighting the crowds and all this commercialism have to do with Christmas in the first place,” he grumbled. A car cut in front of him, and Joe blared his horn.
“Quite a lot when you think about it,” Cait said softly. “Imagine the streets of Bethlehem, the crowds and the noise…” The Christmas before, fresh from a shopping expedition, Cait had asked herself the same question. Christmas seemed so commercial. The crowds had been unbearable. First at Northgate, where she did most of her shopping and then at the airport. Sea-Tac had been filled with activity and noise, everyone in a hurry to get someplace else. There seemed to be little peace or good cheer and a whole lot of selfish concern and rudeness. Then, in the tranquility of church on Christmas Eve, everything had come into perspective for Cait. There had been crowds and rudeness that first Christmas, too, she reasoned. Yet in the midst of that confusion had come joy and peace and love. For most people, it was still the same. Christmas gifts and decorations and dinners were, after all, expressions of the love you felt for your family and friends. And if the preparations sometimes got a bit chaotic, well, that no longer bothered Cait.
“Where should we go to eat?” Joe asked, breaking into her thoughts. They were barely moving, stuck in heavy traffic.
She looked over at him and smiled serenely. “Any place will do. There’re several excellent restaurants close by. You choose, only let it be my treat this time.”
“We’ll talk about who pays later. Right now, I’m more concerned with getting out of this traffic sometime within my life span.”
Still smiling, Cait said, “I don’t think it’ll take much longer.”
He returned her smile. “I don’t, either.” His eyes held hers for what seemed an eternity—until someone behind them honked irritably. Joe glanced up and saw that traffic ahead of them had started to move. He immediately stepped on the gas.
Cait didn’t know what Joe had found so fascinating about her unless it was her unruly hair. She hadn’t combed it since leaving the house; it was probably a mass of tight, disorderly curls. She’d been so concerned with finding the right gift for her nephews and niece that she hadn’t given it a thought.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, feeling self-conscious.
“What makes you think anything’s wrong?”
“The way you were looking at me a few minutes ago.”
“Oh, that,” he said, easing into a restaurant parking lot. “I don’t think I’ve ever fully appreciated how lovely you are,” he answered in a calm, matter-of-fact voice.
Cait blushed and glanced away. “I’m sure you’re mistaken. I’m really not all that pretty. I sometimes wondered if Paul would have noticed me sooner if I was a little more attractive.”
“Trust me, Bright Eyes,” he said, turning off the engine. “You’re pretty enough.”
“For what?”
“For this.” And he leaned across the seat and captured her mouth with his.
Chapter Five
“I …wish you hadn’t done that,” Cait whispered, slowly opening her eyes in an effort to pull herself back to reality.
As far as kisses went, Joe’s were good. Very good. He kissed better than just about anyone she’d ever kissed before—but that didn’t alter the fact that she was in love with Paul.
“You’re right,” he muttered, opening the door and climbing out of the cab. “I shouldn’t have done that.” He walked around to her side and yanked the door open with more force than necessary.
Cait frowned, wondering at his strange mood. One minute he was holding her in his arms, kissing her tenderly; the next he was short-tempered and irritable.
“I’m hungry,” he barked, lifting her abruptly down to the pavement. “I sometimes do irrational things when I haven’t eaten.”
“I see.” The next time she went anywhere with Joseph Rockwell, she’d have to make sure he ate a good meal first.
The restaurant was crowded and Joe gave the receptionist their names to add to the growing waiting list. Sitting on the last empty chair in the foyer, Cait set her large black leather purse on her lap and started rooting through it.
“What are you searching for? Uranium?” Joe teased, watching her.
“Crackers,” she answered, shifting the bulky bag and handing him several items to hold while she continued digging.
“You’re searching for crackers? Whatever for?”
She glanced up long enough to give him a look that questioned his intelligence. “For obvious reasons. If you’re irrational when you’re hungry, you might do something stupid while we’re here. Frankly, I don’t want you to embarrass me.” She returned to the task with renewed vigor. “I can just see you standing on top of the table dancing.”
“That’s one way to get the waiter’s attention. Thanks for suggesting it.”
“Aha!” Triumphantly Cait pulled two miniature bread sticks wrapped in cellophane from the bottom of her purse. “Eat,” she instructed. “Before you’re overcome by some other craziness.”
“You mean before I kiss you again,” he said in a low voice, bending his head toward