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Trading Christmas - Debbie Macomber [88]

By Root 1090 0
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.

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 hostess 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

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