Trading Christmas - Debbie Macomber [106]
“Nothing.” He circled her living room, still wearing that silly grin. “I don’t suppose you realize it, but liquor has a peculiar effect on you.”
Cait stiffened. “It does?” She remembered most of the party with great clarity. Good thing Joe had taken her home when he had.
“Liquor loosens your tongue.”
“So?” She picked up two shopping bags filled with wrapped packages, leaving the lone suitcase for him. “Did I say any thing of interest?”
“Oh, my, yes.”
“Joe!” She glanced quickly at her watch. They needed to get moving if she was to catch her flight. “Discount whatever I said—I’m sure I didn’t mean it. If I insulted you, I apologize. If I told any family secrets, kindly forget I mentioned them.”
He strolled to her side and tucked his finger under her chin. “This was a secret, all right,” he informed her in a lazy drawl. “It was something you told me on the drive home.”
“Are you sure it’s true?”
“Relatively sure.”
“What did I say? Did I declare my undying love for you? Because if I—”
“No, no, nothing like that.”
“Just how long do you intend to torment me with this?” She was rapidly losing interest in his little guessing game.
“Not much longer.” He looked exceptionally pleased with himself. “So Martin’s a minister now. Funny you never thought to mention that before.”
“Ah…” Cait set aside the two bags and lowered herself to the sofa. So he’d found out. Worse, she’d been the one to tell him.
“That may well have some interesting ramifications, my dear. Have you ever stopped to think about them?”
EIGHT
“This is exactly why I didn’t tell you about Martin,” Cait informed Joe as he tossed her suitcase into the back seat of his car. She checked her watch again and groaned. They had barely an hour and a half before her flight was scheduled to leave. Cait was never late. Never—at least not when it was her own fault.
“It seems to me,” Joe continued, his face deadpan, “that there could very well be some legal grounds to our marriage.”
Joe was saying that just to annoy her, and unfortunately it was working. “I’ve never heard anything more ludicrous in my life.”
“Think about it, Cait,” he said, ignoring her protest. “We could be celebrating our anniversary this spring. How many years is it now? Eighteen? How the years fly.”
“Listen, Joe, I don’t find this amusing.” She glanced at her watch. If only she hadn’t slept so late. Never again would she have any Christmas punch. Briefly she wondered what else she’d said to Joe, then decided it was better not to know.
“I heard a news report of a three-car pileup on the freeway, so we’ll take the side streets.”
“Just hurry,” Cait urged in an anxious voice.
“I’ll do the best I can,” Joe said, “but worrying about it isn’t going to get us there any faster.”
She glared at him. She couldn’t help it. He wasn’t the one who’d been planning this trip for months. If she missed the flight, her nephews and niece wouldn’t have their Christmas presents from their Auntie Cait. Nor would she share in the family traditions that were so much a part of her Christmas. She had to get to the airport on time.
Everyone else had apparently heard about the accident on the freeway, too, and the downtown area was crowded with the overflow. Cait and Joe were delayed at every intersection and twice were forced to sit through two changes of the traffic signal.
Cait was growing more panicky by the minute. She just had to make this flight. But it almost seemed that she’d get to the airport faster if she simply jumped out of the car and ran there.
Joe stopped for another red light, but when the signal turned green, they still couldn’t move—a delivery truck in front of them had stalled. Furious, Cait rolled down the window and stuck out her head. “Listen here, buster, let’s get this show on the road,” she shouted at the top of her lungs.
Her head was pounding and she prayed the aspirin would soon take effect.
“Quite the Christmas spirit,” Joe muttered dryly under his breath.
“I can’t help it. I have to catch this plane.”
“You’ll be there