Trading Christmas - Debbie Macomber [115]
“What did you tell him?” Joe seemed to consider the whole thing a huge joke. “Wait—” he held up his hand “—you don’t need to answer that. I already know. You sprang at the offer.”
“I didn’t exactly spring,” she said, somewhat offended by Joe’s attitude. The least he could do was show a little concern. She’d spent Christmas with him, and according to his own mother this was the first time he’d ever brought a woman home for the holiday. Furthermore, despite his insisting to all and sundry that they were married, he certainly didn’t seem to mind her seeing another man.
“I’ll bet you nearly went into shock.” A smile trembled at the edges of his mouth as if he was picturing her reaction to Paul’s invitation and finding it all terribly entertaining.
“I did not go into shock.” She defended herself heatedly. She’d been taken by surprise, that was all.
“Listen,” he said, walking toward the door, “have a great time. I’ll catch you later.” With that he was gone.
Cait couldn’t believe it. Her mouth dropped open and she paced frantically, clenching and unclenching her fists. It took her a full minute to recover enough to run after him.
Joe was talking to his foreman, the same stocky man he’d been with the day he followed Cait into the elevator.
“Excuse me,” she said, interrupting their conversation, “but when you’re finished I’d like a few words with you, Joe.” Her back was ramrod stiff and she kept flexing her hands as though preparing for a fight.
Joe glanced at his watch. “It might be a while.”
“Then might I have a few minutes of your time now?”
The foreman stepped away, his step cocky. “You want me to dismiss the crew again, boss? I can tell them to go out and buy New Year’s presents for their wives, if you like.”
The man was rewarded with a look that was hot enough to barbecue spareribs. “That won’t be necessary, thanks, anyway, Harry.”
“You’re welcome, boss. We serve to please.”
“Then please me by kindly shutting up.”
Harry chuckled and returned to another section of the office.
“You wanted something?” Joe asked.
Boy, did she. “Is that all you’re going to say?”
“About what?”
“About my going to dinner with Paul? I expected you to be…I don’t know, upset.”
“Why should I be upset? Is he going to have his way with you? I sincerely doubt it, but if you’re worried, invite me along and I’ll be more than happy to protect your honor.”
“What’s the matter with you?” she demanded, not bothering to disguise her fury and disappointment. She stared at Joe, waiting for him to mock her again, but once more he surprised her. His gaze sobered.
“You honestly expect me to be jealous?”
“Not jealous exactly,” she said, although he wasn’t far from the truth. “Concerned.”
“I’m not. Paul’s a good man.”
“I know, but—”
“You’ve been in love with him for months—”
“I think it was more of an infatuation.”
“True. But he’s finally asked you out, and you’ve accepted.”
“Yes, but—”
“We know each other well, Cait. We were married, remember?”
“I’m not likely to forget it.” Especially when Joe took pains to point it out at every opportunity. “Shouldn’t that mean…something?” Cait was embarrassed she’d said that. For weeks she’d suffered acute mortification every time Joe mentioned the childhood stunt. Now she was using it to suit her own purposes.
Joe took hold of her shoulders. “As a matter of fact, our marriage means a lot to me. Because I care about you, Cait.”
Hearing Joe admit as much was gratifying.
“I want only the best for you,” he continued. “It’s what you deserve. All I can say is that I’d be more than pleased if everything worked out between you and Paul. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to talk something over with Harry.”
“Oh, right, sure, go ahead.” She couldn’t seem to get the words out fast enough. When she’d called Martin to explain why she wouldn’t be in Minnesota for Christmas, he’d claimed that God would reward her sacrifice. If Paul’s invitation to dinner was God’s