Page 103 of Romance and Peppermint Lattes
She sent him a scalding frown. “Thank you very much,” she said sarcastically for the second time in under ten minutes. Hobbling to the door, she opened it a crack and peeked out, hoping to catch sight of the mystery woman. From what she could see, there weren’t any new arrivals.
“What does she look like?” Cait demanded and whirled around to discover Joe standing directly behind her. She nearlycollided with him and gave a small cry of surprise. Joe caught her by the shoulders to keep her from stumbling. Eager to question him about Paul’s date, she didn’t take the time to analyze why her heartrate soared when his hands made contact with her bare skin.
“What does she look like?” Cait asked again.
“I don’t know,” Joe returned flippantly.
“What do you mean you don’t know? You just said she’d arrived.”
“Unfortunately she doesn’t have a tattoo across her forehead announcing that she’s the woman Paul’s dating.”
“Then how do you know she’s here?” If Joe was playing games with her, she’d make damn sure he’d regret it. Her love for Paul was no joking matter.
“It’s more a feeling I have.”
“You had me stuff my feet back into these shoes for a stupid feeling?” It was all she could do not to slap him silly. “You are no friend of mine, Joseph Rockwell. No friend whatsoever.” Having said that, she limped back into the living room.
Obviously unscathed by her remark, Joe wandered out of the kitchen behind her. He walked over to the tray of canapés and helped himself to three or four while Cait did her best to ignore him.
Since the punch bowl was close by, she poured herself a second glass. The taste was sweet and cold, but Cait noticed that she felt a bit light-headed afterward. Potent drinks didn’t sit well on an empty stomach, so she scooped up a handful of mixed nuts.
“I remember a time when you used to line up all the Spanish peanuts and eat those first,” Joe said from behind her. “Then it was the hazelnuts, followed by the—”
“Almonds.” Leave it to him to bring up her foolish past. “I haven’t done that since I was—”
“Twenty,” he guessed.
“Twenty-five,” she corrected.
Joe laughed, and despite her aching feet and the certainty that she should never have come to this party, Cait laughed, too.
Refilling her punch glass, she downed it all in a single drink. Once more, it tasted cool and refreshing.
“Cait,” Joe warned, “how much punch have you had?”
“Not enough.” She filled the crystal cup a third time—or was it the fourth?—squared her shoulders and gulped it down. When she’d finished, she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth and smiled bravely.
“Are you purposely trying to get drunk?” he demanded.
“No.” She reached for another handful of nuts. “All I’m looking for is a little courage.”
“Courage?”
“Yes,” she said with a sigh. “The way I figure it...” She paused, smiling giddily, then whirled around in a full circle. “Thereissome mistletoe here, isn’t there?”
“I think so,” Joe said, frowning. “What makes you ask?”
“I’m going to kiss Paul,” she said proudly. “All I have to do is wait until he walks past. Then I’ll grab him by the hand, wish him a merry Christmas and give him a kiss he won’t soon forget.” If the fantasy fulfilled itself, Paul would immediately realize he’d met the woman of his dreams, and propose marriage on the spot....
“What is kissing Paul supposed to prove?”
She returned to reality. “Well, this is where you come in. I want you to look around and watch the faces of the other women. If one of them shows signs of jealousy, then we’ll know who it is.”
“I’m not sure this plan of yours is going to work.”
“It’s better than trusting those feelings of yours,” she countered.
She saw the mistletoe hanging from the archway between the formal dining room and the living room. Slouched against the wall, hands tucked behind her back, Cait waited patiently for Paul to stroll past.
