Trading Christmas - Debbie Macomber [80]
“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