Книга - Home for the Holidays: The Forgetful Bride / When Christmas Comes

Home for the Holidays: The Forgetful Bride / When Christmas Comes
Debbie Macomber


Perfect for fans of Maeve Binchy' - CandisThe Forgetful BrideCaitlin Marshall's trying to go home to Minnesota, but at the last minute she gives her airline ticket to a stranded soldier. So Cait spends Christmas with Joe Rockwell, who was a childhood friend–and is still a terrible tease, claiming that Cait's his wife. Oh, sure, they were "married" in a pretend ceremony when she was eight, but now Joe wants to make their "marriage" real!When Christmas ComesEmily Springer trades her Leavenworth, Washington, home for Charles Brewster's Boston condo. Then Emily's friend Faith comes to visit her in Washington–and instead finds Charles, a complete stranger and a curmudgeon, to boot. His brother, Ray, meanwhile, shows up at Charles's place, only to discover Emily living there. But through all the mix-ups and misunderstandings, among the chaos and confusion, romance begins to emerge….









Praise for New York Times bestselling author

DEBBIE MACOMBER


“Debbie Macomber’s gift for understanding the souls of women—their relationships, their values, their lives—is at its peak here.”

—BookPage on Between Friends

“Macomber is known for her honest portrayals of ordinary women in small-town America, and this tale cements her position as an icon of the genre.”

—Publishers Weekly on 16 Lighthouse Road

“As always, Macomber draws rich, engaging characters.”

—Publishers Weekly on Thursdays at Eight

“Macomber is an adept storyteller…many will be entertained by this well-paced story about four women finding happiness and fulfillment through their growing friendship.”

—Publishers Weekly on The Shop on Blossom Street

“Macomber offers a very human look at three women who uproot their lives to follow their true destiny.”

—Booklist on Changing Habits

“An insightful look at relationships through the interaction of four women.”

—Midwest Book Review on Thursdays at Eight

“Ms. Macomber provides the top in entertaining relationship dramas.”

—Reader to Reader

“Macomber's storytelling sometimes yields a tear, at other times a smile.”

—Newport News, VA, Daily Press

“Well-developed emotions and appealing characters.”

—Publishers Weekly on Montana




Christmas 2005

Dear Friends,

I genuinely love Christmas. I love everything about it—the decorations, the baking, the shopping and goodwill toward mankind. My love of the holidays is one reason I’ve written a book centered on Christmas almost every year of my writing career. Home for the Holidays includes two of my favorites: The Forgetful Bride and When Christmas Comes.

The Forgetful Bride is one of my early Christmas stories, written back in 1991. It’s about a woman who meets an old flame over the holidays. Okay, at the time of their “romance” she was only eight and she’d refused to kiss him unless they were married. Now her childhood husband is back—right in the middle of the Christmas season—and insists they’re actually married.

When Christmas Comes tells the story of what happens when two people decide to trade homes over the holidays. Throw a Christmas curmudgeon into a town obsessed with Christmas, add a few neighborhood kids, Santa and his elves—and there’s Christmas fun to be had.

Two stories for the price of one. That’s the kind of deal Christmas shoppers are looking for! My wish is that you’ll be able to relax during the holiday craziness, laugh away the stress and fall in love with life.






P.S. If you enjoyed these stories, please visit my Web site at www.debbiemacomber.com and leave me a message on the Guest Book page. If you aren’t online, I can be reached at P.O. Box 1458, Port Orchard, WA 98366.




Home for the Holidays

The Forgetful Bride

When Christmas Comes

Debbie Macomber










CONTENTS


THE FORGETFUL BRIDE

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

WHEN CHRISTMAS COMES

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Epilogue




The Forgetful Bride

Debbie Macomber






For Patti Knoll

My witty, charming and talented friend




Prologue


“N ot unless we’re married.”

Ten-year-old Martin Marshall slapped his hands against his thighs in disgust. “I told you she was going to be unreasonable about this.”

Caitlin watched as her brother’s best friend withdrew a second baseball card from his shirt pocket. If Joseph Rockwell wanted to kiss her, then he was going to have to do it the right way. She might be only eight, but Caitlin knew about these things. Glancing down at the doll held tightly in her arms, she realized instinctively that Barbie wouldn’t approve of kissing a boy unless he married you first.

Martin approached her again. “Joe says he’ll throw in his Don Drysdale baseball card.”

“Not unless we’re married,” she repeated, smoothing the front of her sundress with a haughty air.

“All right, all right, I’ll marry her,” Joe muttered as he stalked across the backyard.

“How you gonna do that?” Martin demanded.

“Get your Bible.”

For someone who wanted to kiss her so badly, Joseph didn’t look very pleased. Caitlin decided to press her luck. “In the fort.”

“The fort?” Joe exploded. “No girls are allowed in there!”

“I refuse to marry a boy who won’t even let me into his fort.”

“Call it off,” Martin demanded. “She’s asking too much.”

“You don’t have to give me the second baseball card,” she said. The idea of being the first girl ever to view their precious fort had a certain appeal. And it meant she’d probably get invited to Betsy McDonald’s birthday party.

The boys exchanged glances and started whispering to each other, but Caitlin heard only snatches of their conversation. Martin clearly wasn’t thrilled with Joseph’s concessions, and he kept shaking his head as though he couldn’t believe his friend might actually go through with this. For her part, Caitlin didn’t know whether to trust Joseph. He liked playing practical jokes and everyone in the neighborhood knew it.

“It’s time to feed my baby,” she announced, preparing to leave.

“All right, all right,” Joseph said with obvious reluctance. “I’ll marry you in the fort. Martin’ll say the words, only you can’t tell anyone about going inside, understand?”

“If you do,” Martin threatened, glaring at his sister, “you’ll be sorry.”

“I won’t tell,” Caitlin promised. It would have to be a secret, but that was fine because she liked keeping secrets.

“You ready?” Joseph demanded. Now that the terms were set, he seemed to be in a rush, which rather annoyed Caitlin. The frown on his face didn’t please her, either. A bridegroom should at least look happy. She was about to say so, but decided not to.

“You’ll have to change clothes, of course. Maybe the suit you wore on Easter Sunday…”

“What?” Joseph shrieked. “I’m not wearing any suit. Listen, Caitlin, you’ve gone about as far as you can with this. I get married exactly the way I am or we call it off.”

She sighed, rolling her eyes expressively. “Oh, all right, but I’ll need to get a few things first.”

“Just hurry up, would you?”

Martin followed her into the house, letting the screen door slam behind him. He took his Bible off the hallway table and rushed back outside.

Caitlin hurried up to her room, where she grabbed a brush to run through her hair and straightened the two pink ribbons tied around her pigtails. She always wore pink ribbons because pink was a color for girls. Boys were supposed to wear blue and brown and boring colors like that. Boys were okay sometimes, but mostly they did disgusting things.

Her four dolls accompanied her across the backyard and into the wooded acre behind. She hated getting her Mary Janes dusty, but that couldn’t be avoided.

With a good deal of ceremony, she opened the rickety door and then slowly, the way she’d seen it done at her older cousin’s wedding, Caitlin marched into the boys’ packing-crate-and-cardboard fort.

Pausing inside the narrow entry, she glanced around. It wasn’t anything to brag about. Martin had made it sound like a palace with marble floors and crystal chandeliers. She couldn’t help feeling disillusioned. If she hadn’t been so eager to see the fort, she would’ve insisted they do this properly, in church.

Her brother stood tall and proud on an upturned apple crate, the Bible clutched to his chest. His face was dutifully somber. Caitlin smiled approvingly. He, at least, was taking this seriously.

“You can’t bring those dolls in here,” Joseph said loudly.

“I most certainly can. Barbie and Ken and Paula and Jane are our children.”

“Our children?”

“Naturally they haven’t been born yet, so they’re really just a glint in your eye.” She’d heard her father say that once and it sounded special. “They’re angels for now, but I thought they should be here so you could meet them.” She was busily arranging her dolls in a tidy row behind Martin on another apple crate.

Joseph covered his face with his hands and it looked for a moment like he might change his mind.

“Are we going to get married or not?” she asked.

“All right, all right.” Joseph sighed heavily and pulled her forward, a little more roughly than necessary, in Caitlin’s opinion.

The two of them stood in front of Martin, who randomly opened his Bible. He gazed down at the leather-bound book and then at Caitlin and his best friend. “Do you Joseph James Rockwell take Caitlin Rose Marshall for your wife?”

“Lawfully wedded,” Caitlin corrected. She remembered this part from a television show.

“Lawfully wedded wife,” Martin amended grudgingly.

“I do.” Caitlin noticed that he didn’t say it with any real enthusiasm. “I think there’s supposed to be something about richer or poorer and sickness and health,” Joseph said, smirking at Caitlin as if to say she wasn’t the only one who knew the proper words.

Martin nodded and continued. “Do you, Caitlin Rose Marshall, hereby take Joseph James Rockwell in sickness and health and in riches and in poorness?”

“I’m only going to marry a man who’s healthy and rich.”

“You can’t go putting conditions on this now,” Joseph argued. “We already agreed.”

“Just say ‘I do,’” Martin urged, his voice tight with annoyance. Caitlin suspected that only the seriousness of the occasion prevented him from adding, “You pest.”

She wasn’t sure if she should go through with this or not. She was old enough to know that she liked pretty things and when she married, her husband would build her a castle at the edge of the forest. He would love her so much, he’d bring home silk ribbons for her hair, and bottles and bottles of expensive perfume. So many that there wouldn’t be room for all of them on her makeup table.

“Caitlin,” Martin said through clenched teeth.

“I do,” she finally answered.

“I hereby pronounce you married,” Martin proclaimed, closing the Bible with a resounding thud. “You may kiss the bride.”

Joseph turned to face Caitlin. He was several inches taller than she was. His eyes were a pretty shade of blue that reminded her of the way the sky looked the morning after a bad rainstorm. She liked Joseph’s eyes.

“You ready?” he asked.

She nodded, closed her eyes and pressed her lips tightly together as she angled her head to the left. If the truth be known, she wasn’t all that opposed to having Joseph kiss her, but she’d never let him know that because…well, because kissing wasn’t something ladies talked about.

A long time passed before she felt his mouth touch hers. Actually his lips sort of bounced against hers. Gee, she thought. What a big fuss over nothing.

“Well?” Martin demanded of his friend.

Caitlin opened her eyes to discover Joseph frowning down at her. “It wasn’t anything like Pete said it would be,” he grumbled.

“Caitlin might be doing it wrong,” Martin offered, frowning accusingly at his sister.

“If anyone did anything wrong, it’s Joseph.” They were making it sound like she’d purposely cheated them. If anyone was being cheated, it was Caitlin, because she couldn’t tell Betsy McDonald about going inside their precious fort.

Joseph didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then he slowly withdrew his prized baseball cards from his shirt pocket. He gazed at them lovingly before he reluctantly held them out to her. “Here,” he said, “these are yours now.”

“You aren’t going to give ’em to her, are you? Not when she messed up!” Martin cried. “Kissing a girl wasn’t like Pete said, and that’s got to be Caitlin’s fault. I told you she’s not really a girl, anyway. She’s a pest.”

“A deal’s a deal,” Joseph said sadly.

“You can keep your silly old baseball cards.” Head held high, Caitlin gathered up her dolls in a huff, prepared to make a dignified exit.

“You won’t tell anyone about us letting you into the fort, will you?” Martin shouted after her.

“No.” She’d keep that promise.

But neither of them had said a word about telling everyone in school that she and Joseph Rockwell had gotten married.




Chapter One


F or the third time that afternoon, Cait indignantly wiped sawdust from the top of her desk. If this remodeling mess got much worse, the particles were going to get into her computer, destroying her vital link with the New York Stock Exchange.

“We’ll have to move her out,” a gruff male voice said from behind her.

“I beg your pardon,” Cait demanded, rising abruptly and whirling toward the doorway. She clapped the dust from her hands, preparing to do battle. So much for this being the season of peace and goodwill. All these men in hard hats strolling through the office, moving things around, was inconvenient enough. But at least she’d been able to close her door to reduce the noise. Now, it seemed, even that would be impossible.

“We’re going to have to pull some electrical wires through there,” the same brusque voice explained. She couldn’t see the man’s face, since he stood just outside her doorway, but she had an impression of broad-shouldered height. “We’ll have everything back to normal within a week.”

“A week!” She wouldn’t be able to service her customers, let alone function, without her desk and phone. And exactly where did they intend to put her? Certainly not in a hallway! She wouldn’t stand for it.

The mess this simple remodeling project had created was one thing, but transplanting her entire office as if she were nothing more than a…a tulip bulb was something else again.

“I’m sorry about this, Cait,” Paul Jamison said, slipping past the crew foreman to her side.

The wind went out of her argument at the merest hint of his devastating smile. “Don’t worry about it,” she said, the picture of meekness and tolerance. “Things like this happen when a company grows as quickly as ours.”

She glanced across the hallway to her best friend’s office, shrugging as if to ask, Is Paul ever going to notice me? Lindy shot her a crooked grin and a quick nod that suggested Cait stop being so negative. Her friend’s confidence didn’t help. Paul was a wonderful district manager and she was fortunate to have the opportunity to work with him. He was both talented and resourceful. The brokerage firm of Webster, Rodale and Missen was an affiliate of the fastest-growing firm in the country. This branch had been open for less than two years and already they were breaking national sales records. Due mainly, Cait believed, to Paul’s administrative skills.

Paul was slender, dark-haired and handsome in an urbane, sophisticated way—every woman’s dream man. Certainly Cait’s. But as far as she could determine, he didn’t see her in a similar romantic light. He thought of her as an important team member. One of the staff. At most, a friend.

Cait knew that friendship was often fertile ground for romance, and she hoped for an opportunity to cultivate it. Willingly surrendering her office to an irritating crew of carpenters and electricians was sure to gain her a few points with her boss.

“Where would you like me to set up my desk in the meantime?” she asked, smiling warmly at Paul. From habit, she lifted her hand to push back a stray lock of hair, forgetting she’d recently had it cut. That had been another futile attempt to attract Paul’s affections—or at least his attention. Her shoulder-length chestnut-brown hair had been trimmed and permed into a pixie style with a halo of soft curls.

The difference from the tightly styled chignon she’d always worn to work was striking, or so everyone said. Everyone except Paul. The hairdresser had claimed it changed Cait’s cooly polished look into one of warmth and enthusiasm. It was exactly the image Cait wanted Paul to have of her.

Unfortunately he didn’t seem to detect the slightest difference in her appearance. At least not until Lindy had pointedly commented on the change within earshot of their absentminded employer. Then, and only then, had Paul made a remark about noticing something different; he just hadn’t been sure what it was, he’d said.

“I suppose we could move you….” Paul hesitated.

“Your office seems to be the best choice,” the foreman said.

Cait resisted the urge to hug the man. He was tall, easily six three, and as solid as Mount Rainier, the majestic mountain she could see from her office window. She hadn’t paid much attention to him until this moment and was surprised to note something vaguely familiar about him. She’d assumed he was the foreman, but she wasn’t certain. He seemed to be around the office fairly often, although not on a predictable schedule. Every time he did show up, the level of activity rose dramatically.

“Ah…I suppose Cait could move in with me for the time being,” Paul agreed. In her daydreams, Cait would play back this moment; her version had Paul looking at her with surprise and wonder, his mouth moving toward hers and—

“Miss?”

Cait broke out of her reverie and glanced at the foreman—the man who’d suggested she share Paul’s office. “Yes?”

“Would you show us what you need moved?”

“Of course,” she returned crisply. This romantic heart of hers was always getting her into trouble. She’d look at Paul and her head would start to spin with hopes and fantasies and then she’d be lost….

Cait’s arms were loaded with files as she followed the carpenters, who hauled her desk into a corner of Paul’s much larger office. Her computer and phone came next, and within fifteen minutes she was back in business.

She was on the phone, talking with one of her most important clients, when the same man walked back, unannounced, into the room. At first Caitlin assumed he was looking for Paul, who’d stepped out of the office. The foreman—or whatever he was—hesitated for a few seconds. Then, scooping up her nameplate, he grinned at her as if he found something highly entertaining. Cait did her best to ignore him, flipping needlessly through the pages of the file.

Not taking the hint, he stepped forward and plunked the nameplate on the edge of her desk. As she looked up in annoyance, he boldly winked at her.

Cait was not amused. How dare this…this…redneck flirt with her!

She glared at him, hoping he’d have the good manners and good sense to leave—which, of course, he didn’t. In fact, he seemed downright stubborn about staying and making her as uncomfortable as possible. Her phone conversation ran its natural course and after making several notations, she replaced the receiver.

“You wanted something?” she demanded, her eyes meeting his. Once more she noted his apparent amusement. She didn’t understand it.

“No,” he answered, grinning again. “Sorry to have bothered you.”

For the second time, Cait was struck by a twinge of the familiar. He strolled out of her makeshift office as if he owned the building.

Cait waited a few minutes, then approached Lindy. “Did you happen to catch his name?”

“Whose name?”

“The…man who insisted I vacate my office. I don’t know who he is. I thought he was the foreman, but…” She crossed her arms and furrowed her brow, trying to remember if she’d heard anyone say his name.

“I have no idea.” Lindy pushed back her chair and rolled a pencil between her palms. “He is kinda cute, though, don’t you think?”

A smile softened Cait’s lips. “There’s only one man for me and you know it.”

“Then why are you asking questions about the construction crew?”

“I…don’t know. That guy seems familiar for some reason, and he keeps grinning at me as if he knows something I don’t. I hate it when men do that.”

“Then ask one of the others what his name is. They’ll tell you.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“He might think I’m interested in him.”

“And we both know how impossible that would be,” Lindy said with mild sarcasm.

“Exactly.” Lindy and probably everyone else in the office complex knew how Cait felt about Paul. The district manager himself, however, seemed to be completely oblivious. Other than throwing herself at him, which she’d seriously considered more than once, there was little she could do but be patient. One of these days Cupid was going to let fly an arrow and hit her lovable boss directly between the eyes.

When it happened—and it would!—Cait planned to be ready.

“You want to go for lunch now?” Lindy asked.

Cait nodded. It was nearly two and she hadn’t eaten since breakfast, which had consisted of a banana and a cup of coffee. A West Coast stockbroker’s day started before dawn. Cait was generally in the office by six and didn’t stop work until the market closed at one-thirty, Seattle time. Only then did she break for something to eat.

Somewhere in the middle of her turkey on whole wheat, Cait convinced herself she was imagining things when it came to that construction worker. He’d probably been waiting around to ask her where Paul was and then changed his mind. He did say he was sorry for bothering her.

If only he hadn’t winked.



He was back the following day, a tool pouch riding on his hip like a six-shooter, hard hat in place. He was issuing orders like a drill sergeant, and Cait found herself gazing after him with reluctant fascination. She’d heard he owned the construction company, and she wasn’t surprised.

As she studied him, she realized once again how striking he was. Not because he was extraordinarily handsome, but because he was somehow commanding. He possessed an authority, a presence, that attracted attention wherever he went. Cait was as drawn to it as those around her. She observed how the crew instinctively turned to him for directions and approval.

The more she observed him, the more she recognized that he was a man who had an appetite for life. Which meant excitement, adventure and probably women, and that confused her even more because she couldn’t recall ever knowing anyone quite like him. Then why did she find him so…familiar?

Cait herself had a quiet nature. She rarely ventured out of the comfortable, compact world she’d built. She had her job, a nice apartment in Seattle’s university district, and a few close friends. Excitement to her was growing herbs and participating in nature walks.

The following day while she was studying the construction worker, he’d unexpectedly turned and smiled at something one of his men had said. His smile, she decided, intrigued her most. It was slightly off center and seemed to tease the corners of his mouth. He looked her way more than once and each time she thought she detected a touch of humor, an amused knowledge that lurked just beneath the surface.

“It’s driving me crazy,” Cait confessed to Lindy over lunch.

“What is?”

“That I can’t place him.”

Lindy set her elbows on the table, holding her sandwich poised in front of her mouth. She nodded slowly, her eyes distant. “When you figure it out, introduce me, will you? I could go for a guy this sexy.”

So Lindy had noticed that earthy sensuality about him, too. Well, of course she had—any woman would.

After lunch, Cait returned to the office to make a few calls. He was there again.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t place him. Work became a pretense as she continued to scrutinize him, racking her brain. Then, when she least expected it, he strolled past her and brazenly winked a second time.

As the color clawed up her neck, Cait flashed her attention back to her computer screen.

“His name is Joe,” Lindy rushed in to tell her ten minutes later. “I heard one of the men call him that.”

“Joe,” Cait repeated slowly. She couldn’t remember ever knowing anyone named Joe.

“Does that help?”

“No,” Cait said, shaking her head regretfully. If she’d ever met this man, she wasn’t likely to have overlooked the experience. He wasn’t someone a woman easily forgot.

“Ask him,” Lindy said. “It’s ridiculous not to. It’s driving you insane. Then,” she added with infuriating logic, “when you find out, you can nonchalantly introduce me.”

“I can’t just waltz up and start quizzing him,” Cait argued. The idea was preposterous. “He’ll think I’m trying to pick him up.”

“You’ll go crazy if you don’t.”

Cait sighed. “You’re right. I’m not going to sleep tonight if I don’t settle this.”

With Lindy waiting expectantly in her office, Cait approached him. He was talking to another member of the crew and once he’d finished, he turned to her with one of his devastating lazy smiles.

“Hello,” she said, and her voice shook slightly. “Do I know you?”

“You mean you’ve forgotten?” he asked, sounding shocked and insulted.

“Apparently. Though I’ll admit you look somewhat familiar.”

“I should certainly hope so. We shared something very special a few years back.”

“We did?” Cait was more confused than ever.

“Hey, Joe, there’s a problem over here,” a male voice shouted. “Could you come look at this?”

“I’ll be with you in a minute,” he answered brusquely over his shoulder. “Sorry, we’ll have to talk later.”

“But—”

“Say hello to Martin for me, would you?” he asked as he stalked past her and into the room that had once been Cait’s office.

Martin, her brother. Cait hadn’t a clue what her brother could possibly have to do with this. Mentally she ran through a list of his teenage friends and came up blank.

Then it hit her. Bull’s-eye. Her heart started to pound until it roared like a tropical storm in her ears. Mechanically Cait made her way back to Lindy’s office. She sank into a chair beside the desk and stared into space.

“Well?” Lindy pressed. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”

“Um, it’s not that easy to explain.”

“You remember him, then?”

She nodded. Oh, Lord, did she ever.

“Good grief, what’s wrong? You’ve gone so pale!”

Cait tried to come up with an explanation that wouldn’t sound…ridiculous.

“Tell me,” Lindy said. “Don’t just sit there wearing a foolish grin and looking like you’re about to faint.”

“Um, it goes back a few years.”

“All right. Start there.”

“Remember how kids sometimes do silly things? Like when you’re young and foolish and don’t know any better?”

“Me, yes, but not you,” Lindy said calmly. “You’re perfect. In all the time we’ve been friends, I haven’t seen you do one impulsive thing. Not one. You analyze everything before you act. I can’t imagine you ever doing anything silly.”

“I did once,” Cait told her, “but I was only eight.”

“What could you have possibly done at age eight?”

“I…I got married.”

“Married?” Lindy half rose from her chair. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“I wish I was.”

“I’ll bet a week’s commissions that your husband’s name is Joe.” Lindy was smiling now, smiling widely.

Cait nodded and tried to smile in return.

“What’s there to worry about? Good grief, kids do that sort of thing all the time! It doesn’t mean anything.”

“But I was a real brat about it. Joe and my brother, Martin, were best friends. Joe wanted to know what it felt like to kiss a girl, and I insisted he marry me first. If that wasn’t bad enough, I pressured them into performing the ceremony inside their boys-only fort.”

“So, you were a bit of pain—most eight-year-old girls are when it comes to dealing with their brothers. He got what he wanted, didn’t he?”

Cait took a deep breath and nodded again.

“What was kissing him like?” Lindy asked in a curiously throaty voice.

“Good heavens, I don’t remember,” Cait answered shortly, then reconsidered. “I take that back. As I recall, it wasn’t so bad, though obviously neither one of us had any idea what we were doing.”

“Lindy, you’re still here,” Paul said as he strolled into the office. He inclined his head briefly in Cait’s direction, but she had the impression he barely saw her. He’d hardly been around in the past couple of days—almost as if he was purposely avoiding her, she mused, but that thought was too painful to contemplate.

“I was just finishing up,” Lindy said, glancing guiltily toward Cait. “We both were.”

“Fine, fine, I didn’t mean to disturb you. I’ll see you two in the morning.” A second later, he was gone.

Cait gazed after him with thinly disguised emotion. She waited until Paul was well out of range before she spoke. “He’s so blind. What do I have to do, hit him over the head?”

“Quit being so negative,” Lindy admonished. “You’re going to be sharing an office with him for another five days. Do whatever you need to make darn sure he notices you.”

“I’ve tried,” Cait murmured, discouraged. And she had. She’d tried every trick known to woman, with little success.

Lindy left the office before her. Cait gathered up some stock reports to read that evening and stacked them neatly inside her leather briefcase. What Lindy had said about her being methodical and careful was true. It was also a source of pride; those traits had served her clients well.

To Cait’s dismay, Joe followed her. “So,” he said, smiling down at her, apparently oblivious to the other people clustering around the elevator. “Who have you been kissing these days?”

Hot color rose instantly to her face. Did he have to humiliate her in public?

“I could find myself jealous, you know.”

“Would you kindly stop,” she whispered furiously, scowling at him. Her hand tightened around the handle of her briefcase so hard her fingers ached.

“You figured it out?”

She nodded, her eyes darting to the lighted numbers above the elevator door, praying it would make its descent in record time instead of pausing on each floor.

“The years have been good to you.”

“Thank you.” Please hurry, she urged the elevator.

“I never would’ve believed Martin’s little sister would turn out to be such a beauty.”

If he was making fun of her, she didn’t appreciate it. She was attractive, she knew that, but she certainly wasn’t waiting for anyone to place a tiara on her head. “Thank you,” she repeated grudgingly.

He gave an exaggerated sigh. “How are our children doing? What were their names again?” When she didn’t answer right away, he added, “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”

“Barbie and Ken,” she muttered under her breath.

“That’s right. I remember now.”

If Joe hadn’t drawn the attention of her co-workers before, he had now. Cait could have sworn every single person standing by the elevator turned to stare at her. The hope that no one was interested in their conversation was forever lost.

“Just how long do you intend to tease me about this?” she snapped.

“That depends,” Joe responded with a chuckle Cait could only describe as sadistic. She gritted her teeth. He might have found the situation amusing, but she derived little enjoyment from being the office laughingstock.

Just then the elevator arrived, and not a moment too soon to suit Cait. The instant the doors slid open, she stepped toward it, determined to get as far away from this irritating man as possible.

He quickly caught up with her and she swung around to face him, her back ramrod stiff. “Is this really necessary?” she hissed, painfully conscious of the other people crowding into the elevator ahead of her.

He grinned. “I suppose not. I just wanted to see if I could get a rise out of you. It never worked when we were kids, you know. You were always so prim and proper.”

“Look, you didn’t like me then and I see no reason for you to—”

“Not like you?” he countered loudly enough for everyone in the building to hear. “I married you, didn’t I?”




Chapter Two


C ait’s heart seemed to stop. She realized that not only the people on the elevator but everyone left in the office was staring at her with unconcealed interest. The elevator was about to close and she quickly stepped forward, stretching out her arms to hold the doors open. She felt like Samson balanced between two marble columns.

“It’s not the way it sounds,” she felt obliged to explain in a loud voice, her gaze pleading.

No one made eye contact with her and, desperate, she turned to Joe, sending him a silent challenge to retract his words. His eyes were sparkling with mischief. If he did say anything, Cait thought in sudden horror, it was bound to make things even worse.

There didn’t seem to be anything to do but tell the truth. “In case anyone has the wrong impression, this man and I are not married,” she shouted. “Good grief, I was only eight!”

There was no reaction. It was as if she’d vanished into thin air. Defeated, she dropped her arms and stepped back, freeing the doors, which promptly closed.

Ignoring the other people on the elevator—who were carefully ignoring her—Cait clenched her hands into hard fists and glared up at Joe. Her face tightened with anger. “That was a rotten thing to do,” she whispered hoarsely.

“What? It’s true, isn’t it?” he whispered back.

“You’re being ridiculous to talk as though we’re married!”

“We were once. It wounds me that you treat our marriage so lightly.”

“I…it wasn’t legal.” The fact that they were even discussing this was preposterous. “You can’t possibly hold me responsible for something that happened so long ago. To play this game now is…is infantile, and I refuse to be part of it.”

The elevator finally came to a halt on the ground floor and, eager to make her escape, Cait rushed out. Straightening to keep her dignity intact, she headed through the crowded foyer toward the front doors. Although it was midafternoon, dusk was already setting in, casting dark shadows between the towering office buildings.

Cait reached the first intersection and sighed in relief as she glanced around her. Good. No sign of Joseph Rockwell. The light was red and she paused, although others hurried across the street after checking for traffic; Cait always felt obliged to obey the signal.

“What do you think Paul’s going to say when he hears about this?” Joe asked from behind her.

Cait gave a start, then turned to look at her tormenter. She hadn’t thought about Paul’s reaction. Her throat seemed to constrict, rendering her speechless, otherwise she would have demanded Joe leave her alone. But he’d raised a question she dared not ignore. Paul might hear about her so-called former relationship with Joe and might even think there was something between them.

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

She nodded. At the very mention of Paul’s name, her knees went weak. He was everything she wanted in a man and more. She’d been crazy about him for months and now it was all about to be ruined by this irritating, unreasonable ghost from her past.

“Who told you?” Cait snapped. She couldn’t imagine Lindy betraying her confidence, but Cait hadn’t told anyone else.

“No one had to tell me,” Joe said. “It’s written all over you.”

Shocked, Cait stared at Joe, her heart sinking. “Do…do you think Paul knows how I feel?”

Joe shrugged. “Maybe.”

“But Lindy said…”

The light changed and, clasping her elbow, Joe urged her into the street. “What was it Lindy said?” he prompted when they’d crossed.

Cait looked up, about to tell him, when she realized exactly what she was doing—conversing with her antagonist. This was the very man who’d gone out of his way to embarrass and humiliate her in front of the entire office staff. Not to mention assorted clients and carpenters.

She stiffened. “Never mind what Lindy said. Now if you’ll kindly excuse me…” With her head high, she marched down the sidewalk. She hadn’t gone more than a few feet when the hearty sound of Joe’s laughter caught up with her.

“You haven’t changed in twenty years, Caitlin Marshall. Not a single bit.”

Gritting her teeth, she marched on.



“Do you think Paul’s heard?” Cait asked Lindy the instant she had a free moment the following afternoon. The New York Stock Exchange had closed for the day and Cait hadn’t seen Paul since morning. It looked like he really was avoiding her.

“I wouldn’t know,” Lindy said as she typed some figures into her computer. “But the word about your childhood marriage has spread like wildfire everywhere else. It’s the joke of the day. What did you and Joe do? Make a public announcement before you left the office yesterday afternoon?”

It was so nearly the truth that Cait guiltily lowered her eyes. “I didn’t say a word,” she defended herself. “Joe was the one.”

“He told everyone you were married?” A suspicious tilt at the corner of her mouth betrayed Lindy’s amusement.

“Not exactly. He started asking about our children in front of everyone.”

“There were children?”

Cait resisted the urge to close her eyes and count to ten. “No. I brought my dolls to the wedding. Listen, I don’t want to rehash a silly incident that happened years ago. I’m more afraid Paul’s going to hear about it and put the wrong connotation on the whole thing. There’s absolutely nothing between me and Joseph Rockwell. More than likely Paul won’t give it a second thought, but I don’t want there to be any…doubts between us, if you know what I mean.”

“If you’re so worried about it, talk to him,” Lindy advised without lifting her eyes from the screen. “Honesty is the best policy, you know that.”

“Yes, but it could prove to be a bit embarrassing, don’t you think?”

“Paul will respect you for telling him the truth before he hears the rumors from someone else. Frankly, Cait, I think you’re making a fuss over nothing. It isn’t like you’ve committed a felony, you know.”

“I realize that.”

“Paul will probably be amused, like everyone else. He’s not going to say anything.” She looked up quickly, as though she expected Cait to try yet another argument.

Cait didn’t. Instead she mulled over her friend’s advice, gnawing on her lower lip. “You might be right. Paul will respect me for explaining the situation myself, instead of ignoring everything.” Telling him the truth could be helpful in other respects, too, now that she thought about it.

If Paul had any feeling for her whatsoever, and oh, how she prayed he did, then he might become just a little jealous of her relationship with Joseph Rockwell. After all, Joe was an attractive man in a rugged outdoor sort of way. He was tall and muscular and, well, good-looking. The kind of good-looking that appealed to women—not Cait, of course, but other women. Hadn’t Lindy commented almost immediately on how attractive he was?

“You’re right,” Cait said, walking resolutely toward the office she was temporarily sharing with Paul. Although she’d felt annoyed at first about being shuffled out of her own space, she’d come to think of this inconvenience as a blessing in disguise. However, she had to admit she’d been disappointed thus far. She had assumed she’d be spending a lot of time alone with him. That hadn’t happened yet.

The more Cait considered the idea of a heart-to-heart talk with her boss, the more appealing it became. As was her habit, she mentally rehearsed what she wanted to say to him, then gave herself a small pep talk.

“I don’t remember that you talked to yourself.” The male voice booming behind her startled Cait. “But then there’s a great deal I’ve missed over the years, isn’t there, Caitlin?”

Cait was so rattled she nearly stumbled. “What are you doing here?” she demanded. “Why are you following me around? Can’t you see I’m busy?” He was the last person she wanted to confront just now.

“Sorry.” He raised both hands in a gesture of apology contradicted by his twinkling blue eyes. “How about lunch later?”

He was teasing. He had to be. Besides, it would be insane for her to have anything to do with Joseph Rockwell. Heaven only knew what would happen if she gave him the least bit of encouragement. He’d probably hire a skywriter and announce to the entire city that they’d married as children.

“It shouldn’t be that difficult to agree to a luncheon date,” he informed her coolly.

“You’re serious about this?”

“Of course I’m serious. We have a lot of years to catch up on.” His hand rested on his leather pouch, giving him a rakish air of indifference.

“I’ve got an appointment this afternoon…” She offered the first plausible excuse she could think of; it might be uninspired but it also happened to be true. She’d made plans to have lunch with Lindy.

“Dinner then. I’m anxious to hear what Martin’s been up to.”

“Martin,” she repeated, stalling for time while she invented another excuse. This wasn’t a situation she had much experience with. She did date, but infrequently.

“Listen, bright eyes, no need to look so concerned. This isn’t an invitation to the senior prom. It’s one friend to another. Strictly platonic.”

“You won’t mention…our wedding to the waiter? Or anyone else?”

“I promise.” As if to offer proof of his intent, he licked the end of his index finger and crossed his heart. “That was Martin’s and my secret pledge sign. If either of us broke our word, the other was entitled to come up with a punishment. We both understood it would be a fate worse than death.”

“I don’t need any broken pledge in order to torture you, Joseph Rockwell. In two days you’ve managed to turn my life into—” She paused midsentence as Paul Jamison casually strolled past. He waved in Cait’s direction and smiled benignly.

“Hello, Paul,” she called out, weakly raising her right hand. He looked exceptionally handsome this morning in a three-piece dark blue suit. The contrast between him and Joe, who was wearing dust-covered jeans, heavy boots and a tool pouch, was so striking that Cait had to force herself not to stare at her boss. If only Paul had been the one to invite her to dinner…

“If you’ll excuse me,” she said politely, edging her way around Joe and toward Paul, who’d gone into his office. Their office. The need to talk to him burned within her. Words of explanation began to form themselves in her mind.

Joe caught her by the shoulders, bringing her up short. Cait gasped and raised shocked eyes to his.

“Dinner,” he reminded her.

She blinked, hardly knowing what to say. “All right,” she mumbled distractedly and recited her address, eager to have him gone.

“Good. I’ll pick you up tonight at six.” With that he released her and stalked away.

After taking a couple of moments to compose herself, Cait headed toward the office. “Hello, Paul,” she said, standing just inside the doorway. “Do you have a moment to talk?”

He glanced up from a file on his desk. “Of course, Cait. Sit down and make yourself comfortable.”

She moved into the room, closing the door behind her. When she looked back at Paul, he’d cocked his eyebrows in surprise. “Problems?” he asked.

“Not exactly.” She pulled out the chair opposite his desk and slowly sat down. Now that she had his full attention, she was at a loss. All her prepared explanations and witticisms had flown out of her head. “The rate on municipal bonds has been extremely high lately,” she said nervously.

Paul agreed with a quick nod. “They have been for several months now.”

“Yes, I know. That’s what makes them such excellent value.” Cait had been selling bonds heavily in the past few weeks.

“You didn’t close the door to talk to me about bonds,” Paul said softly. “What’s troubling you, Cait?”

She laughed uncomfortably, wondering how a man could be so astute in one area and so blind in another. If only he’d reveal some emotion toward her. Anything. All he did was sit across from her and wait. He was cordial enough, gracious even, but there was no hint of anything more. Nothing to give Cait any hope that he was starting to care for her.

“It’s about Joseph Rockwell.”

“The contractor who’s handling the remodeling?”

Cait nodded. “I knew him years ago when we were just children.” She glanced at Paul, whose face remained blank. “We were neighbors. In fact Joe and my brother, Martin, were best friends. Joe moved out to the suburbs when he and Martin were in the sixth grade and I hadn’t heard anything from him since.”

“It’s a small world, isn’t it?” Paul remarked affably.

“Joe and Martin were typical young boys,” she said, rushing her words a little in her eagerness to have this out in the open. “Full of tomfoolery and pranks.”

“Boys will be boys,” Paul said without any real enthusiasm.

“Yes, I know. Once—” she forced a light laugh “—they actually involved me in one of their crazy schemes.”

“What did they put you up to? Robbing a bank?”

She somehow managed a smile. “Not exactly. Joe—I always called him Joseph back then, because it irritated him. Anyway, Joe and Martin had this friend named Pete who was a year older and he’d spent part of his summer vacation visiting his aunt in Peoria. I think it was Peoria…. Anyway he came back bragging about having kissed a girl. Naturally Martin and Joe were jealous and as you said, boys will be boys, so they decided that one of them should test it out and see if kissing a girl was everything Pete claimed it was.”

“I take it they decided to make you their guinea pig.”

“Exactly.” Cait slid to the edge of the chair, pleased that Paul was following this rather convoluted explanation. “I was eight and considered something of a…pest.” She paused, hoping Paul would make some comment about how impossible that was. When he didn’t, she continued, a little let down at his restraint. “Apparently I was more of one than I remembered,” she said, with another forced laugh. “At eight, I didn’t think kissing was something nice girls did, at least not without a wedding band on their finger.”

“So you kissed Joseph Rockwell,” Paul said absently.

“Yes, but there was a tiny bit more than that. I made him marry me.”

Paul’s eyebrows shot to the ceiling.

“Now, almost twenty years later, he’s getting his revenge by going around telling everyone that we’re actually married. Which of course is ridiculous.”

A couple of strained seconds followed her announcement.

“I’m not sure what to say,” Paul murmured.

“Oh, I wasn’t expecting you to say anything. I thought it was important to clear the air, that’s all.”

“I see.”

“He’s only doing it because…well, because that’s Joe. Even when we were kids he enjoyed playing these little games. No one really minded, though, especially not the girls, because he was so cute.” She certainly had Paul’s attention now.

“I thought you should know,” she added, “in case you happened to hear a rumor or something. I didn’t want you thinking Joe and I were involved, or even considering a relationship. I was fairly certain you wouldn’t, but one never knows and I’m a firm believer in being forthright and honest.”

Paul blinked. Wanting to fill the awkward silence, Cait chattered on. “Apparently Joe recognized my name when he and his men moved my office in here with yours. He was delighted when I didn’t recognize him. In fact, he caused a commotion by asking me about our children in front of everyone.”

“Children?”

“My dolls,” Cait was quick to explain.

“Joe Rockwell’s an excellent man. I couldn’t fault your taste, Cait.”

“The two of us aren’t involved,” she protested. “Good grief, I haven’t seen him in nearly twenty years.”

“I see,” Paul said slowly. He sounded…disappointed, Cait thought. But she must have misread his tone because there wasn’t a single, solitary reason for him to be disappointed. Cait felt foolish now for even trying to explain this fiasco. Paul was so oblivious about her feelings that there was nothing she could say or do to make him understand.

“I just wanted you to know,” she repeated, “in case you heard the rumors and were wondering if there was anything between me and Joseph Rockwell. I wanted to assure you there isn’t.”

“I see,” he said again. “Don’t worry about it, Cait. What happened between you and Rockwell isn’t going to affect your job.”

She stood up to leave, praying she’d detect a suggestion of jealousy. A hint of rivalry. Anything to show he cared. There was nothing, so she tried again. “I agreed to have dinner with him, though.”

Paul had returned his attention to the papers he’d been reading when she’d interrupted him.

“For old times’ sake,” she said in a reassuring voice—to fend off any violent display of resentment, she told herself. “I certainly don’t have any intention of dating him on a regular basis.”

Paul grinned. “Have a good time.”

“Yes, I will, thanks.” Her heart felt as heavy as a sinking battleship. Without knowingwhere she was headed or who she’d talk to, Cait wandered out of Paul’s office, forgetting for a second that she had no office of her own. The area where her desk once sat was cluttered with wire reels, ladders and men. Joe must have left, a fact for which Cait was grateful.

She walked into Lindy’s small office across the hall. Her friend glanced up. “So?” she murmured. “Did you talk to Paul?”

Cait nodded.

“How’d it go?”

“Fine, I guess.” She perched on the corner of Lindy’s desk, crossing her arms around her waist as her left leg swung rhythmically, keeping time with her discouraged heart. She should be accustomed to disappointment when it came to Paul, but somehow each rejection inflicted a fresh wound on her already battered ego. “I was hoping Paul might be jealous.”

“And he wasn’t?”

“Not that I could tell.”

“It isn’t as though you and Joe have anything to do with each other now,” Lindy sensibly pointed out. “Marrying him was a childhood prank. It isn’t likely to concern Paul.”

“I even mentioned that I was going out to dinner with Joe,” Cait said morosely.

“You are? When?” Lindy asked, her eyes lighting up. “Where?”

If only Paul had revealed half as much interest. “Tonight. And I don’t know where.”

“You are going, aren’t you?”

“I guess. I can’t see any way of avoiding it. Otherwise he’d pester me until I gave in. If I ever marry and have daughters, Lindy, I’m going to warn them about boys from the time they’re old enough to understand.”

“Don’t you think you should follow your own advice?” Lindy asked, glancing pointedly in the direction of Paul’s office.

“Not if I were to have Paul’s children,” Cait said, eager to defend her boss. “Our daughter would be so intelligent and perceptive she wouldn’t need to be warned.”

Lindy’s smile was distracted. “Listen, I’ve got a few things to finish up here. Why don’t you go over to the deli and grab us a table. I’ll meet you there in fifteen minutes.”

“Sure,” Cait said. “Do you want me to order for you?”

“No. I don’t know what I want yet.”

“Okay, I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

They often ate at the deli across the street from their office complex. The food was good, the service fast, and generally by three in the afternoon, Cait was famished.

She was so wrapped up in her thoughts, which were muddled and gloomy after her talk with Paul, that she didn’t notice how late Lindy was. Her friend rushed into the restaurant more than half an hour after Cait had arrived.

“I’m sorry,” she said, sounding flustered and oddly shaken. “I had no idea those last few chores would take me so long. Oh, you must be starved. I hope you’ve ordered.” Lindy removed her coat and stuffed it into the booth before sliding onto the red upholstered seat herself.

“Actually, no, I didn’t.” Cait sighed. “Just tea.” Her spirits were at an all-time low. It was becoming painfully clear that Paul didn’t harbor a single romantic feeling toward her. She was wasting her time and her emotional energy on him. If only she’d had more experience with the opposite sex. It seemed her whole love life had gone into neutral the moment she’d graduated from college. At the rate things were developing, she’d still be single by the time she turned thirty—a possibility too dismal to contemplate. She hadn’t given much thought to marriage and children, always assuming they’d naturally become part of her life; now she wasn’t so sure. Even as a child, she’d pictured her grown-up self with a career and a family. Behind the business exterior was a woman traditional enough to hunger for that most special of relationships.

She had to face the fact that marriage would never happen if she continued to love a man who didn’t return her feelings. She gave a low groan, then noticed that Lindy was gazing at her in concern.

“Let’s order something,” Lindy said quickly, reaching for the menu tucked behind the napkin holder. “I’m starved.”

“I was thinking I’d skip lunch today,” Cait mumbled. She sipped her lukewarm tea and frowned. “Joe will be taking me out to dinner soon. And frankly, I don’t have much of an appetite.”

“This is all my fault, isn’t it?” Lindy asked, looking guilty.

“Of course not. I’m just being practical.” If Cait was anything, it was practical—except about Paul. “Go ahead and order.”

“You’re sure you don’t mind?”

Cait gestured nonchalantly. “Heavens, no.”

“If you’re sure, then I’ll have the turkey on whole wheat,” Lindy said after a moment. “You know how much I like turkey, though you’d think I’d have gotten enough over Thanksgiving.”

“I’ll just have a refill on my tea,” Cait said.

“You’re still flying to Minnesota for the holidays, aren’t you?” Lindy asked, fidgeting with the menu.

“Mmm-hmm.” Cait had purchased her ticket several months earlier. Martin and his family lived near Minneapolis. When their father had died several years earlier, Cait’s mother moved to Minnesota, settling down in a new subdivision not far from Martin, his wife and their four children. Cait tried to visit at least once a year. However, she’d been there in August, stopping off on her way home from a business trip. Usually she made a point of visiting her brother and his family over the Christmas holidays. It was generally a slow week on the stock market, anyway. And if she was going to travel halfway across the country, she wanted to make it worth her while.

“When will you be leaving?” Lindy asked, although Cait was sure she’d already told her friend more than once.

“The twenty-third.” For the past few years, Cait had used one week of her vacation at Christmas time, usually starting the weekend before.

But this year Paul was having a Christmas party and Cait didn’t want to miss that, so she’d booked her flight closer to the holiday.

The waitress came to take Lindy’s order and replenish the hot water for Cait’s tea. The instant she moved away from their booth, Lindy launched into a lengthy tirade about how she hated Christmas shopping and how busy the malls were this time of year. Cait stared at her, bewildered. It wasn’t like her friend to chat nonstop.

“Lindy,” she interrupted, “is something wrong?”

“Wrong? What could possibly be wrong?”

“I don’t know. You haven’t stopped talking for the last ten minutes.”

“I haven’t?” There was an abrupt, uncomfortable silence.

Cait decided it was her turn to say something. “I think I’ll wear my red velvet dress,” she mused.

“To dinner with Joe?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “To Paul’s Christmas party.”

Lindy sighed. “But what are you wearing tonight?”

The question took Cait by surprise. She didn’t consider this dinner with Joe a real date. He just wanted to talk over old times, which was fine with Cait as long as he behaved himself. Suddenly she frowned, then closed her eyes. “Martin’s a Methodist minister,” she said softly.

“Yes, I know,” Lindy reminded her. “I’ve known that since I first met you, which was what? Three years ago now.”

“Four last month.”

“So what does Martin’s occupation have to do with anything?” Lindy asked.

“Joe Rockwell can’t find out,” Cait whispered.

“I didn’t plan on telling him,” Lindy whispered back.

“I’ve got to make up some other occupation like…”

“Counselor,” Lindy suggested. “I’m curious, though. Why can’t you tell Joe about Martin?”

“Think about it!”

“I am thinking. I really doubt Joe would care one way or the other.”

“He might try to make something of it. You don’t know Joe like I do. He’d razz me about it all evening, claiming the marriage was valid. You know, because Martin really is a minister, and since Martin performed the ceremony, we must really be married—that kind of nonsense.”

“I didn’t think about that.”

But then, Lindy didn’t seem to be thinking much about anything lately. It was as if she was walking around in a perpetual daydream. Cait couldn’t remember Lindy’s ever being so scatterbrained. If she didn’t know better, she’d guess there was a man involved.




Chapter Three


A t ten to six, Cait was blow-drying her hair in a haphazard fashion, regretting that she’d ever had it cut. She was looking forward to this dinner date about as much as a trip to the dentist. All she wanted was to get it over with, come home and bury her head under a pillow while she sorted out how she was going to get Paul to notice her.

Restyling her hair hadn’t done the trick. Putting in extra hours at the office hadn’t impressed him, either. Cait was beginning to think she could stand on top of his desk naked and not attract his attention.

She walked into her compact living room and smoothed the bulky-knit sweater over her slim hips. She hadn’t dressed for the occasion, although the sweater was new and expensive. Gray wool slacks and a powder-blue turtleneck with a silver heart-shaped necklace dangling from her neck were about as dressy as she cared to get with someone like Joe. He’d probably be wearing cowboy boots and jeans, if not his hard hat and tool pouch.

Oh, yes, Cait had recognized his type when she’d first seen him. Joe Rockwell was a man’s man. He walked and talked macho. No doubt he drove a truck with tires so high off the ground she’d need a stepladder to climb inside. He was tough and gruff and liked his women meek and submissive. In that case, of course, she had nothing to worry about; he’d lose interest immediately.

He arrived right on time, which surprised Cait. Being prompt didn’t fit the image she had of Joe Rockwell, redneck contractor. She sighed and painted on a smile, then walked slowly to the door.

The smile faded. Joe stood before her, tall and debonair, dressed in a dark gray pin-striped suit. His gray silk tie had pink stripes. He was the picture of smooth sophistication. She knew that Joe was the same man she’d seen earlier in dusty work clothes—yet he was different. He was nothing like Paul, of course. But Joseph Rockwell was a devastatingly handsome man. With a devastating charm. Rarely had she seen a man smile the way he did. His eyes twinkled with warmth and life and mischief. It wasn’t difficult to imagine Joe with a little boy whose eyes mirrored his. Cait didn’t know where that thought came from, but she pushed it aside before it could linger and take root.

“Hello,” he said, flashing her that smile.

“Hi.” She couldn’t stop looking at him.

“May I come in?”

“Oh…of course. I’m sorry,” she faltered, stumbling in her haste to step aside. He’d caught her completely off guard. “I was about to change clothes,” she said quickly.

“You look fine.”

“These old things?” She feigned a laugh. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll only be a minute.” She poured him a cup of coffee, then dashed into her bedroom, ripping the sweater over her head and closing the door with one foot. Her shoes went flying as she ran to her closet. Jerking aside the orderly row of business jackets and skirts, she pulled clothes off their hangers, considered them, then tossed them on the bed. Nearly everything she owned was more suitable for the office than a dinner date.

The only really special dress she owned was the red velvet one she’d purchased for Paul’s Christmas party. The temptation to slip into that was strong but she resisted, wanting to save it for her boss, though heaven knew he probably wouldn’t notice.

Deciding on a skirt and blazer, she hopped frantically around her bedroom as she pulled on her panty hose. Next she threw on a rose-colored silk blouse and managed to button it while stepping into her skirt. She tucked the blouse into the waistband and her feet into a pair of medium-heeled pumps. Finally, her velvet blazer and she was ready. Taking a deep breath, she returned to the living room in three minutes flat.

“That was fast,” Joe commented, standing by the fireplace, hands clasped behind his back. He was examining a framed photograph that sat on the mantel. “Is this Martin’s family?”

“Martin…why, yes, that’s Martin, his wife and their children.” She hoped he didn’t detect the breathless catch in her voice.

“Four children.”

“Yes, he and Rebecca wanted a large family.” Her heartbeat was slowly returning to normal though Cait still felt light-headed. She had a sneaking suspicion that she was suffering from the effects of unleashed male charm.

She realized with surprise that Joe hadn’t said or done anything to embarrass or fluster her. She’d expected him to arrive with a whole series of remarks designed to disconcert her.

“Timmy’s ten, Kurt’s eight, Jenny’s six and Clay’s four.” She introduced the freckle-faced youngsters, pointing each one out.

“They’re handsome children.”

“They are, aren’t they?”

Cait experienced a twinge of pride. The main reason she went to Minneapolis every year was Martin’s children. They adored her and she was crazy about them. Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without Jenny and Clay snuggling on her lap while their father read the Nativity story. Christmas was singing carols in front of a crackling wood fire, accompanied by Martin’s guitar. It meant stringing popcorn and cranberries for the seven-foot-tall tree that always adorned the living room. It was having the children take turns scraping fudge from the sides of the copper kettle, and supervising the decorating of sugar cookies with all four crowded around the kitchen table. Caitlin Marshall might be a dedicated stockbroker with an impressive clientele, but when it came to Martin’s children, she was Auntie Cait.

“It’s difficult to think of Martin with kids,” Joe said, carefully placing the family photo back on the mantel.

“He met Rebecca his first year of college and the rest, as they say, is history.”

“What about you?” Joe asked, turning unexpectedly to face her.

“What about me?”

“Why haven’t you married?”

“Uh…” Cait wasn’t sure how to answer him. She had a glib reply she usually gave when anyone asked, but somehow she knew Joe wouldn’t accept that. “I…I’ve never really fallen in love.”

“What about Paul?”

“Until Paul,” she corrected, stunned that she’d forgotten the strong feelings she held for her employer. She’d been so concerned with being honest that she’d overlooked the obvious. “I am deeply in love with Paul,” she said defiantly, wanting there to be no misunderstanding.

“There’s no need to convince me, Caitlin.”

“I’m not trying to convince you of anything. I’ve been in love with Paul for nearly a year. Once he realizes he loves me, too, we’ll be married.”

Joe’s mouth slanted in a wry line and he seemed about to argue with her. Cait waylaid any attempt by glancing pointedly at her watch. “Shouldn’t we be leaving?”

After a long moment, Joe said, “Yes, I suppose we should,” in a mild, neutral voice.

Cait went to the hall closet for her coat, aware with every step she took that Joe was watching her. She turned back to smile at him, but somehow the smile didn’t materialize. His blue eyes met hers, and she found his look disturbing—caressing, somehow, and intimate.

Joe helped her on with her coat and led her to the parking lot, where he’d left his car. Another surprise awaited her. It wasn’t a four-wheel-drive truck, but a late sixties black convertible in mint condition.

The restaurant was one of the most respected in Seattle, with a noted chef and a reputation for excellent seafood. Cait chose grilled salmon and Joe ordered Cajun shrimp.

“Do you remember the time Martin and I decided to open our own business?” Joe asked, as they sipped a predinner glass of wine.

Cait did indeed recall that summer. “You might have been a bit more ingenious. A lemonade stand wasn’t the world’s most creative enterprise.”

“Perhaps not, but we were doing a brisk business until an annoying eight-year-old girl ruined everything.”

Cait wasn’t about to let that comment pass. “You were using moldy lemons and covering the taste with too much sugar. Besides, it’s unhealthy to share paper cups.”

Joe chuckled, the sound deep and rich. “I should’ve known then that you were nothing but trouble.”

“It seems to me the whole mess was your own fault. You boys wouldn’t listen to me. I had to do something before someone got sick on those lemons.”

“Carrying a picket sign that read ‘Talk to me before you buy this lemonade’ was a bit drastic even for you, don’t you think?”

“If anything, it brought you more business,” Cait said dryly, recalling how her plan had backfired. “All the boys in the neighborhood wanted to see what contaminated lemonade tasted like.”

“You were a damn nuisance, Cait. Own up to it.” He smiled and Cait sincerely doubted that any woman could argue with him when he smiled full-force.

“I most certainly was not! If anything you two were—”

“Disgusting, I believe, was your favorite word for Martin and me.”

“And you did your level best to live up to it,” she said, struggling to hold back a smile. She reached for a breadstick and bit into it to disguise her amusement. She’d always enjoyed rankling Martin and Joe, though she’d never have admitted it, especially at the age of eight.

“Picketing our lemonade stand wasn’t the worst trick you ever pulled, either,” Joe said mischievously.

Cait had trouble swallowing. She should have been prepared for this. If he remembered her complaints about the lemonade stand, he was sure to remember what had happened once Betsy McDonald found out about the kissing incident.

“It wasn’t a trick,” Cait protested.

“But you told everyone at school that I’d kissed you—even though you’d promised not to.”

“Not exactly.” There was a small discrepancy that needed clarification. “If you think back you’ll remember you said I couldn’t tell anyone I’d been inside the fort. You didn’t say anything about the kiss.”

Joe frowned darkly as if attempting to jog his memory. “How can you remember details like that? All of this happened years ago.”

“I remember everything,” Cait said grandly—a gross exaggeration. She hadn’t recognized Joe, after all. But on this one point she was absolutely clear. “You and Martin were far more concerned that I not tell anyone about going inside the fort. You didn’t say a word about keeping the kiss a secret.”

“But did you have to tell Betsy McDonald? That girl had been making eyes at me for weeks. As soon as she learned I’d kissed you instead of her, she was furious.”

“Betsy was the most popular girl in school. I wanted her for my friend, so I told.”

“And sold me down the river.”

“Would an apology help?” Confident he was teasing her once again, Cait gave him her most charming smile.

“An apology just might do it.” Joe grinned back, a grin that brightened his eyes to a deeper, more tantalizing shade of blue. It was with some difficulty that Cait pulled her gaze away from his.

“If Betsy liked you,” she asked, smoothing the linen napkin across her lap, “then why didn’t you kiss her? She’d probably have let you. You wouldn’t have had to bribe her with your precious baseball cards, either.”

“You’re kidding. If I kissed Betsy McDonald I might as well have signed over my soul,” Joe said, continuing the joke.

“Even as mere children, men are afraid of commitment,” Cait said solemnly.

Joe ignored her remark.

“Your memory’s not as sharp as you think,” Cait felt obliged to tell him, enjoying herself more than she’d thought possible.

Once again, Joe overlooked her comment. “I can remember Martin complaining about how you’d line up your dolls in a row and teach them school. Once you even got him to come in as a guest lecturer. Heaven knew what you had to do to get him to play professor to a bunch of dolls.”

“I found a pair of dirty jeans stuffed under the sofa with something dead in the pocket. Mom would have tanned his hide if she’d found them, so Martin owed me a favor. Then he got all bent out of shape when I collected it. He didn’t seem the least bit appreciative that I’d saved him.”

“Good old Martin,” Joe said, shaking his head. “I swear he was as big on ceremony as you were. Marrying us was a turning point in his life. From that point on, he started carting a Bible around with him the way some kids do a slingshot. Right in his hip pocket. If he wasn’t burying something, he was holding revival meetings. Remember how he got in a pack of trouble at school for writing ‘God loves you, ask Martin’ on the back wall of the school?”

“I remember.”

“I sort of figured he might become a missionary.”

“Martin?” She gave an abrupt laugh. “Never. He likes his conveniences. He doesn’t even go camping. Martin’s idea of roughing it is doing without valet service.”

She expected Joe to chuckle. He did smile at her attempted joke, but that was all. He seemed to be studying her the same way she’d been studying him.

“You surprise me,” Joe announced suddenly.

“I do? Am I a disappointment to you?”

“Not at all. I always thought you’d grow up and have a passel of children yourself. You used to haul those dolls of yours around with you everywhere. If Martin and I were too noisy, you’d shush us, saying the babies were asleep. If we wanted to play in the backyard, we couldn’t because you were having a tea party with your dolls. It was enough to drive a ten-year-old boy crazy. But if we ever dared complain, you’d look at us serenely and with the sweetest smile tell us we had to be patient because it was for the children.”

“I did get carried away with all that motherhood business, didn’t I?” Joe’s words stirred up uncomfortable memories, the same ones she’d entertained earlier that afternoon. She really did love children. Yet, somehow, without her quite knowing how, the years had passed and she’d buried the dream. Nowadays she didn’t like to think too much about a husband and family—the life that hadn’t happened. It haunted her at odd moments.

“I should have known you’d end up in construction,” she said, switching the subject away from herself.

“How’s that?” Joe asked.

“Wasn’t it you who built the fort?”

“Martin helped.”

“Sure, by staying out of the way.” She grinned. “I know my brother. He’s a marvel with people, but please don’t ever give him a hammer.”

Their dinner arrived, and it was as delicious as Cait had expected, although by then she was enjoying herself so much that even a plateful of dry toast would have tasted good. They drank two cups of cappuccino after their meal, and talked and laughed as the hours melted away. Cait couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so much.

When at last she glanced at her watch, she was shocked to realize it was well past ten. “I had no idea it was so late!” she said. “I should get home.” She had to be up by five.

Joe took care of the bill and collected her coat. When they walked outside, the December night was clear and chilly, with a multitude of stars twinkling brightly above.

“Are you cold?” he asked as they waited for the valet to deliver the car.

“Not at all.” Nevertheless, he placed his arm around her shoulders, drawing her close.

Cait didn’t protest. It felt natural for this man to hold her close.

His car arrived and they drove back to her apartment building in silence. When he pulled into the parking lot, she considered inviting him in for coffee, then decided against it. They’d already drunk enough coffee, and besides, they both had to work the following morning. But more important, Joe might read something else into the invitation. He was an old friend. Nothing more. And she wanted to keep it that way.

She turned to him and smiled softly. “I had a lovely time. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome, Cait. We’ll do it again.”

Cait was astonished to realize how appealing another evening with Joseph Rockwell was. She’d underestimated him.

Or had she?

“There’s something else I’d like to try again,” he was saying, his eyes filled with devilry.

“Try again?” she repeated. “What?”

He slid his arm behind her and for a breathless moment they looked at each other. “I don’t know if I’ve got a chance without trading a few baseball cards, though.”

Cait swallowed. “You want to kiss me?”

He nodded. His eyes seemed to grow darker, more intense. “For old times’ sake.” His hand caressed the curve of her neck, his thumb moving slowly toward the scented hollow of her throat.

“Well, sure. For old times’ sake.” She was astonished at the way her heart was reacting to the thought of Joe holding her…kissing her.

His mouth began a slow descent toward hers, his warm breath nuzzling her skin.

“Just remember,” she whispered when his mouth was about to settle over hers. Her hands gripped his lapels. “Old times’…”

“I’ll remember,” he said as his lips came down on hers.

She sighed and slid her hands up his solid chest to link her fingers at the base of his neck. The kiss was slow and thorough. When it was over, Cait’s hands were clutching his collar.

Joe’s fingers were in her hair, tangled in the short, soft curls, cradling the back of her head.

A sweet rush of joy coursed through her veins. Cait felt a bubbling excitement, a burst of warmth, unlike anything she’d ever known before.

Then he kissed her a second time…

“Just remember…” she repeated when he pulled his mouth from hers and buried it in the delicate curve of her neck.

He drew in several ragged breaths before asking, “What is it I’m supposed to remember?”

“Yes, oh, please, remember.”

He lifted his head and rested his hands lightly on her shoulders, his face only inches from hers. “What’s so important you don’t want me to forget?” he whispered.

It wasn’t Joe who was supposed to remember; it was Cait. She didn’t realize she’d spoken out loud. She blinked, uncertain, then tilted her head to gaze down at her hands, anywhere but at him. “Oh…that I’m in love with Paul.”

There was a moment of silence. An awkward moment. “Right,” he answered shortly. “You’re in love with Paul.” His arms fell away and he released her.

Cait hesitated, uneasy. “Thanks again for a wonderful dinner.” Her hand closed around the door handle. She was eager now to make her escape.

“Any time,” he said flippantly. His own hands gripped the steering wheel.

“I’ll see you soon.”

“Soon,” he echoed. She climbed out of the car, not giving Joe a chance to come around and open the door for her. She was aware of him sitting in the car, waiting until she’d unlocked the lobby door and stepped inside. She hurried down the first-floor hall and into her apartment, turning on the lights so he’d know she’d made it safely home.

Then she removed her coat and carefully hung it in the closet. When she peeked out the window, she saw that Joe had already left.



Lindy was at her desk working when Cait arrived the next morning. Cait smiled at her as she hurried past, but didn’t stop to indulge in conversation.

Cait could feel Lindy’s gaze trailing after her and she knew her friend was disappointed that she hadn’t told her about the dinner date with Joe Rockwell.

Cait didn’t want to talk about it. She was afraid that if she said anything to Lindy, she wouldn’t be able to avoid mentioning the kiss, which was a subject she wanted to avoid at all costs. She wouldn’t be able to delay her friend’s questions forever, but Cait wanted to put them off until at least the end of the day. Longer, if possible.

What a fool she’d been to let Joe kiss her. It had seemed so right at the time, a natural conclusion to a delightful evening.

The fact that she’d let him do it without even making a token protest still confused her. If Paul happened to hear about it, he might think she really was interested in Joe. Which, of course, she wasn’t.

Her boss was a man of principle and integrity—and altogether a frustrating person to fall in love with. Judging by his reaction to her dinner with Joe, he seemed immune to jealousy. Now if only she could discover a way of letting him know how she felt…and spark his interest in the process!

The morning was hectic. Out of the corner of her eye, Cait saw Joe arrive. Although she was speaking to an important client on the phone, she stared after him as he approached the burly foreman. She watched Joe remove a blueprint from a long, narrow tube and roll it open so two other men could study it. There seemed to be some discussion, then the foreman nodded and Joe left, without so much as glancing in Cait’s direction.

That stung.

At least he could have waved hello. But if he wanted to ignore her, well, fine. She’d do the same.

The market closed on the up side, the Dow Jones industrial average at 2600 points after brisk trading. The day’s work was over.

As Cait had predicted, Lindy sought her out almost immediately.

“So how’d your dinner date go?”

“It was fun.”

“Where’d he take you? Sam’s Bar and Grill as you thought?”

“Actually, no,” she said, clearing her throat, feeling more than a little foolish for having suggested such a thing. “He took me to Henry’s.” She announced it louder than necessary, since Paul was strolling into the office just then. But for all the notice he gave her, she might as well have been fresh paint drying on the office wall.

“Henry’s,” Lindy echoed. “He took you to Henry’s? Why, that’s one of the best restaurants in town. It must have cost him a small fortune.”

“I wouldn’t know. My menu didn’t list any prices.”

“You’re joking. No one’s ever taken me anyplace so fancy. What did you order?”

“Grilled salmon.” She continued to study Paul for some clue that he was listening in on her and Lindy’s conversation. He was seated at his desk, reading a report on short-term partnerships as a tax advantage. Cait had read it earlier in the week and had recommended it to him.

“Was it wonderful?” Lindy pressed.

It took Cait a moment to realize her friend was quizzing her about the dinner. “Excellent. The best fish I’ve had in years.”

“What did you do afterward?”

Cait looked back at her friend. “What makes you think we did anything? We had dinner, talked, and then he drove me home. Nothing more happened. Understand? Nothing.”

“If you say so,” Lindy said, eyeing her suspiciously. “But you’re certainly defensive about it.”

“I just want you to know that nothing happened. Joseph Rockwell is an old friend. That’s all.”

Paul glanced up from the report, but his gaze connected with Lindy’s before slowly progressing to Cait.

“Hello, Paul,” Cait greeted him cheerfully. “Are Lindy and I disturbing you? We’d be happy to go into the hallway if you’d like.”

“No, no, you’re fine. Don’t worry about it.” He looked past them to the doorway and got to his feet. “Hello, Rockwell.”

“Am I interrupting a meeting?” Joe asked, stepping into the office as if it didn’t really matter whether he was or not. His hard hat was back in place, along with the dusty jeans and the tool pouch. And yet Cait had no difficulty remembering last night’s sophisticated dinner companion when she looked at him.

“No, no,” Paul answered, “we were just chatting. Come on in. Problems?”

“Not really. But there’s something I’d like you to take a look at in the other room.”

“I’ll 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,” Cait repeated. Her shoulders sagged with defeat. “I swear that man wouldn’t notice me if I pranced around his office naked.”

“That’s a clever idea, and one that just might work. Maybe you should practice around the house first, get the hang of it. I’d be willing to help you out if you’re serious about this.” He sounded utterly nonchalant, as though she’d suggested subscribing to cable television. “This is what friends are for. Do you need help undressing?”

Cait took a sip of her wine to hide a smile. Joe hadn’t changed in twenty years. He was still witty and fun-loving and a terrible tease. “Very funny.”

“Hey, I wasn’t kidding. I’ll pretend I’m Paul and—”

“You promised you were going to be good.”

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “I will be. Just you wait.”

Cait could feel the tide of color flow into her cheeks. She quickly lowered her eyes to her plate. “Joe, cut it out. You’re making me blush and I hate to blush. It makes my face look like a ripe tomato.” She lifted her slice of pizza and bit into it, chewing thoughtfully. “I don’t understand you. Every time I think I have you figured out you do something to surprise me.”

“Like what?”

“Like yesterday. You invited me to dinner, but I never dreamed you’d take me someplace as elegant as Henry’s. You were the perfect gentleman all evening and then today, you were so…”

“Low and disgusting.”

“Exactly.” She nodded righteously. “One minute you’re the picture of charm and culture and the next you’re badgering me with your wisecracks.”

“I’m a tease, remember?”

“The problem is I can’t deal with you when I don’t know what to expect.”

“That’s my charm.” He reached for a second piece of pizza. “Women are said to adore the unexpected in a man.”

“Not this woman,” she informed him promptly. “I need to know where I stand with you.”

“A little to the left.”

“Joe, please, I’m not joking. I can’t have you pulling stunts like you did today. I’ve lived a good, clean life for the past twenty-eight years. Two days with you has ruined my reputation with the company. I can’t walk into the office and hold my head up any longer. I hear people whispering and I know they’re talking about me.”

“Us,” he corrected. “They’re talking about us.”

“That’s even worse. If they want to talk about me and a man, I’d rather it was Paul. Just how much longer is this remodeling project going to take, anyway?” As far as Cait was concerned, the sooner Joe and his renegade crew were out of her office, the sooner her life would return to normal.

“Not too much longer.”

“At the rate you’re progressing, Webster, Rodale and Missen will have offices on the moon.”

“Before the end of the year, I promise.”

“Yes, but just how reliable are your promises?”

“I’m being good, aren’t I?”

“I suppose,” she conceded ungraciously, jerking a stack of mail away from Joe as he started to sort through it.

“What’s this?” Joe asked, rescuing a single piece of paper before it fluttered to the floor.

“A Christmas list. I’m going shopping tomorrow.”

“I should’ve known you’d be organized about that, too.” He sounded vaguely insulting.

“I’ve been organized all my life. It isn’t likely to change now.”

“That’s why I want you to lighten up a little.” He continued studying her list. “What time are you going?”

“The stores open at eight and I plan to be there then.”

“I suppose you’ve written down everything you need to buy so you won’t forget anything.”

“Of course.”

“Sounds sensible.” His remark surprised her. He scanned her list, then yelped, “Hey, I’m not on here!” He withdrew a pen from his shirt pocket and added his own name. “Do you want me to give you a few suggestions about what I’d like?”

“I already know what I’m getting you.”

Joe arched his brows. “You do? And please don’t say ‘nothing.’”

“No, but it’ll be something appropriate—like a muzzle.”

“Oh, Caitlin, darling, you injure me.” He gave her one of his devilish smiles, and Cait could feel herself weakening. Just what she didn’t want! She had every right to be angry with Joe. If he hadn’t brought that pizza, she’d have slammed the door in his face. Wouldn’t she? Sure, she would! But she’d always been susceptible to Italian food. Her only other fault was Paul. She did love him. No one seemed to believe that, but she’d known almost from the moment they’d met that she was destined to spend the rest of her life loving Paul Jamison. Only she’d rather do it as his wife than his employee….

“Have you finished your shopping?” she asked idly, making small talk with Joe since he seemed determined to hang around.

“I haven’t started. I have good intentions every year, you know, like I’ll get a head start on finding the perfect gifts for my nieces and nephews, but they never work out. Usually panic sets in Christmas Eve and I tear around the stores like mad and buy everything in sight. Last year I forgot wrapping paper. My mother saved the day.”

“I doubt it’d do any good to suggest you get organized.”

“I haven’t got the time.”

“What are you doing right now? Write out your list, stick to it and make the time to go shopping.”

“My darling Cait, is this an invitation for me to join you tomorrow?”

“Uh…” Cait hadn’t intended it to be, but she supposed she couldn’t object as long as he behaved himself. “You’re welcome on one condition.”

“Name it.”

“No jokes, no stunts like you pulled today and absolutely no teasing. If you announce to even one person that we’re married, I’m walking away from you and that’s a promise.”

“You’ve got it.” He raised his hand, then ceremoniously crossed his heart.

“Lick your fingertips first,” Cait demanded. The instant the words were out of her mouth, she realized how ridiculous she sounded, as if they were eight and ten all over again. “Forget I said that.”

His eyes were twinkling as he stood to bring his plate to the sink. “I swear it’s a shame you’re so in love with Paul,” he told her. “If I’m not careful, I could fall for you myself.” With that, he kissed her on the cheek and let himself out the door.

Pressing her fingers to her cheek, Cait drew in a deep, shuddering breath and held it until she heard the door close. Then and only then did it seep out in ragged bursts, as if she’d forgotten how to breathe normally.

“Oh, Joe,” she whispered. The last thing she wanted was for Joe to fall in love with her. Not that he wasn’t handsome and sweet and wonderful. He was. He always had been. He just wasn’t for her. Their personalities were poles apart. Joe was unpredictable, always doing the unexpected, whereas Cait’s life ran like clockwork.

She liked Joe. She almost wished she didn’t, but she couldn’t help herself. However, a steady diet of his pranks would soon drive her into the nearest asylum.

Standing, Cait closed the pizza box and tucked the uneaten portion onto the top shelf of her refrigerator. She was putting the dirty plates in her dishwasher when the phone rang. She quickly washed her hands and reached for it.

“Hello.”

“Cait, it’s Paul.”

Cait was so startled that the receiver slipped out of her hand. Grabbing for it, she nearly stumbled over the open dishwasher door, knocking her shin against the sharp edge. She yelped and swallowed a cry as she jerked the dangling phone cord toward her.

“Sorry, sorry,” she cried, once she’d rescued the telephone receiver. “Paul? Are you still there?”

“Yes, I’m here. Is this a bad time? I could call back later if this is inconvenient. You don’t have company, do you? I wouldn’t want to interrupt a party or anything.”

“Oh, no, now is perfect. I didn’t realize you had my home number…but obviously you do. After all, we’ve been working together for nearly a year now.” Eleven months and four days, not that she was counting or anything. “Naturally my number would be in the Human Resources file.”

He hesitated and Cait bent over to rub her shin where it had collided with the dishwasher door. She was sure to have an ugly bruise, but a bruised leg was a small price to pay. Paul had phoned her!

“The reason I’m calling…”

“Yes, Paul,” she prompted when he didn’t immediately continue.

The silence lengthened before he blurted out, “I just wanted to thank you for passing on that article on the tax advantages of limited partnerships. It was thoughtful of you and I appreciate it.”

“I’ve read quite a lot in that area, you know. There are several recent articles on the same subject. If you’d like, I could bring them in next week.”

“Sure. That would be fine. Thanks again, Cait. Goodbye.”

The line was disconnected before Cait could say anything else and she was left holding the receiver. A smile came, slow and confident, and with a small cry of triumph, she tossed the telephone receiver into the air, caught it behind her back and replaced it with a flourish.



Cait was dressed and waiting for Joe early the next morning. “Joe,” she cried, throwing open her apartment door, “I could just kiss you.”

He was dressed in faded jeans and a hip-length bronze-colored leather jacket. “Hey, I’m not stopping you,” he said, opening his arms.

Cait ignored the invitation. “Paul phoned me last night.” She didn’t even try to contain her excitement; she felt like leaping and skipping and singing out loud.

“Paul did?” Joe sounded surprised.

“Yes. It was shortly after you left. He thanked me for giving him an interesting article I found in one of the business journals and—this is the good part—he asked if I was alone…as if it really mattered to him.”

“If you were alone?” Joe repeated, and frowned. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Don’t you understand?” For all his intelligence Joe could be pretty obtuse sometimes. “He wanted to know if you were here with me. It makes sense, doesn’t it? Paul’s jealous, only he doesn’t realize it yet. Oh, Joe, I can’t remember ever being this happy. Not in years and years and years.”

“Because Paul Jamison phoned?”

“Don’t sound so skeptical. It’s exactly the break I’ve been waiting for all these months. Paul’s finally noticed me, and it’s thanks to you.”

“At least you’re willing to give credit where credit is due.” But he still didn’t seem particularly thrilled.

“It’s just so incredible,” she continued. “I don’t think I slept a wink last night. There was something in his voice that I’ve never heard before. Something…deep and personal. I don’t know how to explain it. For the first time in a whole year, Paul knows I’m alive!”

“Are we going Christmas shopping or not?” Joe demanded brusquely. “Damn it all, Cait, I never expected you to go soft over a stupid phone call.”

“But this wasn’t just any call,” she reminded him. She reached for her purse and her coat in one sweeping motion. “It was was from Paul. ”

“You sound like a silly schoolgirl.” Joe frowned, but Cait wasn’t about to let his short temper destroy her mood. Paul had phoned her at home and she was sure that this was the beginning of a real relationship. Next he’d ask her out for lunch, and then…

They left her apartment and walked down the hall, Cait grinning all the way. Standing just outside the front doors was a huge truck with gigantic wheels. Just the type of vehicle she’d expected him to drive the night he’d taken her to Henry’s.

“This is your truck?” she asked when they were outside. She couldn’t keep the laughter out of her voice.

“Something wrong with it?”

“Not a single thing, but Joe, honestly, you are so predictable.”

“That’s not what you said yesterday.”

She grinned again as he opened the truck door, set down a stool for her and helped her climb into the cab. The seat was cluttered, but so wide she was able to shove everything to one side. When she’d made room for herself, she fastened the seat belt, snapping it jauntily in place. She was so happy, the whole world seemed delightful this morning.

“Will you quit smiling before someone suggests you’ve been overdosing on vitamins?” Joe grumbled.

“My, aren’t we testy this morning.”

“Where to?” he asked, starting the engine.

“Any of the big malls will do. You decide. Do you have your list all made out?”

Joe patted his heart. “It’s in my shirt pocket.”

“Good.”

“Have you decided what you’re going to buy for whom?”

His smile was slightly off-kilter. “Not exactly. I thought I’d follow you around and buy whatever you did. Do you know what you’re getting your mother? Mine’s damn difficult to buy for. Last year I ended up getting her a dozen bags of cat food. She’s got five cats of her own and God only knows how many strays she’s feeding.”

“At least your idea was practical.”

“Well, there’s that, and the fact that by the time I started my Christmas shopping the only store open was a supermarket.”

Cait laughed. “Honestly, Joe!”

“Hey, I was desperate and before you get all righteous on me, Mom thought the cat food and the two rib roasts were great gifts.”

“I’m sure she did,” Cait returned, grinning. She found herself doing a lot of that when she was with Joe. Imagine buying his mother rib roasts for Christmas!

“Give me some ideas, would you? Mom’s a hard case.”

“To be honest, I’m not all that imaginative myself. I buy my mother the same thing every year.”

“What is it?”

“Long-distance phone cards. That way she can phone her sister in Dubuque and her high-school friend in Kansas. Of course she calls me every now and then, too.”

“Okay, that takes care of Mom. What about Martin? What are you buying him?”

“A bronze eagle.” She’d decided on that gift last summer when she’d attended Sunday services at Martin’s church. In the opening part of his sermon, Martin had used eagles to illustrate a point of faith.

“An eagle,” Joe repeated. “Any special reason?”

“Y-yes,” she said, not wanting to explain. “It’s a long story, but I happen to be partial to eagles myself.”

“Any other hints you’d care to pass on?”

“Buy wrapping paper in the after-Christmas sales. It’s about half the price and it stores easily under the bed.”

“Great idea. I’ll have to remember that for next year.”

Joe chose Northgate, the shopping mall closest to Cait’s apartment. The parking lot was already beginning to fill up and it was only a few minutes after eight.

Joe managed to park fairly close to the entrance and came around to help Cait out of the truck. This time he didn’t bother with the step stool, but clasped her around the waist to lift her down. “What did you mean 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 hers.

She leaned back quickly, not giving him any chance of following through on that. “Exactly. Or waltz with the waitress or any of the other loony things you do.”

“You have to admit I’ve been good all morning.”

“With one minor slip,” she reminded him, pressing the bread sticks into his hand. “Now eat.”

Before Joe had a chance to open the package, the hostess approached them with two menus tucked under her arm. “Mr. and Mrs. Rockwell. Your table is ready.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Rockwell,” Cait muttered under her breath, glaring at Joe. She should’ve known she couldn’t trust him.

“Excuse me,” Cait said, standing abruptly and raising her index finger. “His name is Rockwell, mine is Marshall,” she explained patiently. She was not about to let Joe continue his silly games. “We’re just friends here for lunch.” Her narrowed eyes caught Joe’s, which looked as innocent as freshly fallen snow. He shrugged as though to say any misunderstanding hadn’t been his fault.

“I see,” the hostess replied. “I’m sorry for the confusion.”

“No problem.” Cait hadn’t wanted to make a big issue of this, but on the other hand she didn’t want Joe to think he was going to get away with it, either.

The woman led them to a linen-covered table in the middle of the room. Joe held out Cait’s chair for her, then whispered something to the hostess who immediately cast Cait a sympathetic glance. Joe’s own gaze rested momentarily on Cait before he pulled out his chair and sat across from her.

“All right, what did you say to her?” she hissed.

The menu seemed to command his complete interest for a couple of minutes. “What makes you think I said anything?”

“I heard you whispering and then she gave me this pathetic look like she wanted to hug me and tell me everything was going to be all right.”

“Then you know.”

“Joe, don’t play games with me,” Cait warned.

“All right, if you must know, I explained that you’d suffered a head injury and developed amnesia.”

“Amnesia,” she repeated loudly enough to attract the attention of the diners at the next table. Gritting her teeth, Cait snatched up her menu, gripping it so tightly the edges curled. It didn’t do any good to argue with Joe. The man was impossible. Every time she tried to reason with him, he did something to make her regret it.

“How else was I supposed to explain the fact that you’d forgotten our marriage?” he asked reasonably.

“I did not forget our marriage,” she informed him from between clenched teeth, reviewing the menu and quickly making her selection. “Good grief, it wasn’t even legal.”

She realized that the waitress was standing by their table, pen and pad in hand. The woman’s ready smile faded as she looked from Cait to Joe and back again. Her mouth tightened as if she suspected they really were involved in something illegal.

“Uh…” Cait hedged, feeling like even more of an idiot. The urge to explain was overwhelming, but every time she tried, she only made matters worse. “I’ll have the club sandwich,” she said, glaring across the table at Joe.

“That sounds good. I’ll have the same,” he said, closing his menu.

The woman scribbled down their order, then hurried away, pausing to glance over her shoulder as if she wanted to be able to identify them later in a police lineup.

“Now look what you’ve done,” Cait whispered heatedly once the waitress was far enough away from their table not to overhear.

“Me?”

Maybe she was being unreasonable, but Joe was the one who’d started this nonsense in the first place. No one could rattle her as effectively as Joe did. And worse, she let him.

This shopping trip was a good example, and so was the pizza that led up to it. No woman in her right mind should’ve allowed Joe into her apartment after what he’d said to her in front of Lindy. Not only had she invited him inside her home, she’d agreed to let him accompany her Christmas shopping. She ought to have her head examined!

“What’s wrong?” Joe asked, tearing open the package of bread sticks. Rather pointless in Cait’s opinion, since their lunch would be served any minute.

“What’s wrong?” she cried, dumbfounded that he had to ask. “You mean other than the hostess believing I’ve suffered a head injury and the waitress thinking we’re drug dealers or something equally disgusting?”

“Here.” He handed her one of the miniature bread sticks. “Eat this and you’ll feel better.”

Cait sincerely doubted that, but she took it, anyway, muttering under her breath.

“Relax,” he urged.

“Relax,” she mocked. “How can I possibly relax when you’re doing and saying things I find excruciatingly embarrassing?”

“I’m sorry, Cait. Really, I am.” To his credit, he did look contrite. “But you’re so easy to fluster and I can’t seem to stop myself.”

Their sandwiches arrived, thick with slices of turkey, ham and a variety of cheeses. Cait was reluctant to admit how much better she felt after she’d eaten. Joe’s spirits had apparently improved, as well.

“So,” he said, his hands resting on his stomach. “What do you have planned for the rest of the afternoon?”

Cait hadn’t given it much thought. “I suppose I should wrap the gifts I bought this morning.” But that prospect didn’t particularly excite her. Good grief, after the adventures she’d had with Joe, it wasn’t any wonder.

“You mean you actually wrap gifts before Christmas Eve?” Joe asked. “Doesn’t that take all the fun out of it? I mean, for me it’s a game just to see if I can get the presents bought.”

She grinned, trying to imagine herself in such a disorganized race to the deadline. Definitely not her style.

“How about a movie?” he suggested out of the blue. “I have the feeling you don’t get out enough.”

“A movie?” Cait ignored the comment about her social life, mainly because he was right. She rarely took the time to go to a show.

“We’re both exhausted from fighting the crowds,” Joe added. “There’s a six-cinema theater next to the restaurant. I’ll even let you choose.”

“I suppose you’d object to a love story?”

“We can see one if you insist, only…”

“Only what?”

“Only promise me you won’t ever expect a man to say the kinds of things those guys on the screen do.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me. Women hear actors say this incredible drivel and then they’re disappointed when real men don’t.”

“Real men like you, I suppose?”

“Right.” He looked smug, then suddenly he frowned. “Does Paul like romances?”

Cait had no idea, since she’d never gone on a date with Paul and the subject wasn’t one they’d ever discussed at the office. “I imagine he does,” she said, dabbing her mouth with her napkin. “He isn’t the type of man to be intimidated by such things.”

Joe’s deep blue eyes widened with surprise and a touch of respect. “Ouch. So Martin’s little sister reveals her claws.”

“I don’t have claws. I just happen to have strong opinions on certain subjects.” She reached for her purse while she was speaking and removed her wallet.

“What are you doing now?” Joe demanded.

“Paying for lunch.” She sorted through the bills and withdrew a twenty. “It’s my turn and I insist on paying…” She hesitated when she saw Joe’s deepening frown. “Or don’t real men allow women friends to buy their lunch?”

“Sure, go ahead,” he returned flippantly.

It was all Cait could do to hide a smile. She guessed that her gesture in paying for their sandwiches would somehow be seen as compromising his male pride.

Apparently she was right. As they were walking toward the cashier, Joe stepped up his pace, grabbed the check from her hand and slapped some money on the counter. He glared at her as if he expected a drawn-out public argument. After the fuss they’d already caused in the restaurant, Cait was darned if she was going to let that happen.

“Joe,” she argued the minute they were out the door. “What was that all about?”

“Fine, you win. Tell me my views are outdated, but when a woman goes out with me, I pick up the tab, no matter how liberated she is.”

“But this isn’t a real date. We’re only friends, and even that’s—”

“I don’t give a damn. Consider it an apology for the embarrassment I caused you earlier.”

“Isn’t that kind of sexist?”

“No! I just have certain…standards.”

“So I see.” His attitude shouldn’t have come as any big surprise. Just as Cait had told him earlier, he was shockingly predictable.

Hand at her elbow, Joe led the way across the car-filled lot toward the sprawling theater complex. The movies were geared toward a wide audience. There was a Disney classic, along with a horror flick and a couple of adventure movies and last but not least, a well-publicized love story.

As they stood in line, Cait caught Joe’s gaze lingering on the poster for one of the adventure films—yet another story about a law-and-order cop with renegade ideas.

“I suppose you’re more interested in seeing that than the romance.”

“I already promised you could choose the show, and I’m a man of my word. If, however, you were to pick another movie—” he buried his hands in his pockets as he grinned at her appealingly “—I wouldn’t complain.”

“I’m willing to pick another movie, but on one condition.”

“Name it.” His eyes lit up.

“I pay.”

“Those claws of yours are out again.”

She raised her hands and flexed her fingers in a catlike motion. “It’s your decision.”

“What about popcorn?”

“You can buy that if you insist.”

“All right,” he said, “you’ve got yourself a deal.”

When it was Cait’s turn at the ticket window, she purchased two for the Disney classic.

“Disney?” Joe yelped, shocked when Cait handed him his ticket.

“It seemed like a good compromise,” she answered.

For a moment it looked as if he was going to argue with her, then a slow grin spread across his face. “Disney,” he said again. “You’re right, it does sound like fun. Only I hope we’re not the only people there over the age of ten.”

They sat toward the back of the theater, sharing a large bucket of buttered popcorn. The theater was crowded and several kids seemed to be taking turns running up and down the aisles. Joe needn’t have worried; there were plenty of adults in attendance, but of course most of them were accompanying children.

The lights dimmed and Cait reached for a handful of popcorn, relaxing in her seat. “I love this movie.”

“How many times have you seen it?”

“Five or six. But it’s been a few years.”

“Me, too.” Joe relaxed beside her, crossing his long legs and leaning back.

The credits started to roll, but the noise level hadn’t decreased much. “Will the kids bother you?” Joe wanted to know.

“Heavens, no. I love kids.”

“You do?” The fact that he was so surprised seemed vaguely insulting and Cait frowned.

“We’ve already had this discussion,” she responded, licking the salt from her fingertips.

“We did? When?”

“The other day. You commented on how much I used to enjoy playing with my dolls and how you’d expected me to be married with a house full of children.” His words had troubled her then, because “a house full of children” was exactly what Cait would have liked, and she seemed a long way from realizing her dream.

“Ah, yes, I remember our conversation about that now.” He scooped up a large handful of popcorn. “You’d be a very good mother, you know.”





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