Listen to Your Heart - Fern Michaels [58]
Paul backed away from the doorway. He hated to admit he had listened unashamedly to Josie’s dialogue with her mother. She really did love him. No woman had ever said she loved him. Maybe his mother had told him she did when he was little, but if she did, he couldn’t remember it. Maybe the old housekeeper had told him, too, but he couldn’t remember that either. He felt his chest swell with happiness.
“How’s the coffee coming?” he bellowed from the doorway.
“It’s coming. Another minute or so. Are you going to make it on time?”
“Probably not. I’ll say I thought I was to be in at eight-thirty. Hey, I’m a partner.”
“What’s your first project?”
“The guy is a new client for Jack. He wants a guest cottage, a cabana, and some interior renovations on his main house. I have to go over to the property this morning and then I get to sit down and see if I’m as good as I think I am.”
“Trust me, you are. When someone wants something as bad as you’ve always wanted this, it has to work.”
Paul nodded. “This is a pretty cup,” Paul said, pointing to the large red strawberry. “That’s what I mean. I don’t have anything like this. My cups have a maroon stripe around the middle.”
“They were my mother’s dishes. There are only a few pieces left. Kitty and I treasure them. Growing up, food on a pretty plate made some things easier to eat, like liver or cauliflower. At least that’s what Mom said. I have to agree. Kitty and I fight over them.”
“Good coffee,” Paul said, gulping from the cup. “I hate to drink and run, but I don’t have any other choice. Hey, Zip!”
Josie watched, a smile on her face as Paul tussled with the boxer for a few minutes. He raised his head to look at Josie. “Would you mind coming to my house for dinner with the dogs? I’d like to spend some time with Zip. I can barbecue outside if you like.”
“Sure, I’d like that. What time?”
“How does seven sound? If I kiss you, I’ll never get out of here.”
Josie laughed. “Go on. I’ll see you tonight.”
The kitchen was suddenly quiet as Zip looked at the door, at her, and then at Rosie. He nudged his pal and both dogs crawled under the table.
“It’s okay, Zip. We’re going over there tonight, and you can show Rosie all your things and how you live. Paul and I will walk you guys and play with you all night. I promise. We’re a package deal now. We all belong together. It’s wonderful! It’s so wonderful I feel like crying. I’m not going to cry, though. I will cry on my wedding day. My mother said she cried on hers, and then she never cried again. Well, she said she did cry one more time when Dad had his heart attack. She said she never let him see her cry, though. I have to remember that. Okay, time to shower and then we’re going to the market. It’s okay, Zip—really it is. We’re going to your house to do some fixing up. Come on, give me some love,” Josie said, rubbing her nose against the boxer’s wet snout. “Ah, that’s good. You too, girl. Kisses, kisses. Just one big happy family. The four of us. Please, God, don’t let anything spoil all of this.”
It was two-thirty when Josie pulled the van into Paul’s driveway. She grinned from ear to ear as she surveyed her booty. She rather thought she’d bought everything under the sun. First things first. She opened the French doors and watched the two dogs barrel through the house, yapping and yipping at the tops of their lungs. She set down bowls of water before she started carrying her purchases into the house. The kitchen first. Always the kitchen, the heart of the home. She couldn’t wait to tie the red-and-white-checkered cushions onto the ugly wrought-iron chairs. The moment she tied the last bow she knew she’d made the right choice. The checkered place mats with the matching napkins transformed the ugly glass-topped table to a work of art. The centerpiece of bright red ceramic apples in a straw basket complemented the mats and cushions