Page 110 of Romance and Peppermint Lattes
That perception had been with her from the moment they’d parted at the airport. It had followed her in the taxi on the ride back to the apartment. Joe was the last person she’d thought of when she’d fallen asleep, and the first person she’d remembered when she awoke.
It was the most unbelievable thing.
“What are you going to do for Christmas?” Joe asked, still frowning into his coffee cup. For someone who’d seemed downright regretful that she was flying halfway across the country, he didn’t seem all that pleased to be sharing her company now.
“I... haven’t decided yet. I suppose I’ll spend a quiet day by myself.” She’d wake up late, indulge in a lazy scented bath, find something sinful for breakfast. Ice cream, maybe. Then she’d paint her toenails and settle down with a good book. The day would be lonely, true, but certainly not wasted.
“It’ll be anything but quiet,” Joe challenged.
“Oh?”
“You’ll be spending it with me and my family.”
***
“This is the first time Joe has ever brought a girl to join us for Christmas,” Virginia Rockwell said as she set a large tray of freshly baked cinnamon rolls in the center of the huge kitchen table. She wiped her hands clean on the apron that was secured around her thick waist.
Cait felt she should explain. She was a little uncomfortable arriving unannounced with Joe like this. “Joe and I are just friends.”
Mrs. Rockwell shook her head, which set the white curls bobbing. “I saw my son’s eyes when he brought you into the house.” She grinned knowingly. “I remember you from the old neighborhood, with your starched dresses and the pigtails with those bright pink ribbons. You were a pretty girl then and you’re even prettier now.”
“The starched dresses were me, all right,” Cait confirmed. She’d been the only girl for blocks around who always wore dresses to school.
Joe’s mother chuckled again. “I remember the sensation you caused in the neighborhood when you said Joe had kissed you.”She chuckled, her eyes shining. “His father and I got quite a kick out of that. I still remember how furious Joe was when he learned his secret was out.”
“I only told one person,” Cait protested. But Betsy had told plenty of others, and the news had spread with alarming speed. However, Cait figured she’d since paid for her sins tenfold. Joe had made sure of that in the past few weeks.
“It’s so good to see you again, Caitlin. When we’ve got a minute I want you to sit down and tell me all about your mother. We lost contact years ago, but I always thought she was a darling.”
“I think so, too,” Cait agreed, carrying a platter of scrambled eggs to the table. She did miss being with her family, but Joe’s mother made it almost as good as being home. “I know that’s how Mom feels about you, too. She’ll want to thank you for being kind enough to invite me into your home for Christmas.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“I know.” She glanced into the other room where Joe was sitting with his brother and sister-in-law. Her heart throbbed at the sight of him with his family. But these newfound feelings for Joe left her at a complete loss. What she’d told Mrs. Rockwell was true. Joe was her friend. The very best friend she’d ever had. She was grateful for everything he’d done for her since they’d chanced upon each other, just weeks ago, really. But their friendship was developing into something much stronger. If only she didn’t feel so... so ardent about Paul. If only she didn’t feel so confused!
Joe laughed at something one of his nephews said and Cait couldn’t help smiling. She loved the sound of his laughter. It was vigorous and robust and lively—just like his personality.
“Joe says you’re working as a stockbroker right here in Seattle.”
“Yes. I’ve been with Webster, Rodale and Missen for over a year now. My degree was in accounting but—”
“Accounting?” Mrs. Rockwell nodded approvingly. “My Joe has his own accountant now. Good thing, too. His books were in a terrible mess. He’s a builder, not a pencil pusher, that boy.”
“Are you telling tales on me, Mom?” Joe asked as he sauntered into the kitchen. He picked up a piece of bacon and bit off the end. “When are we going to open the gifts? The kids are getting restless.”
“The kids, nothing. You’re the one who’s eager to tear into those packages,” his mother admonished. “We’ll open them after breakfast, the way we do every Christmas.”
Joe winked at Cait and disappeared into the living room once more.
Mrs. Rockwell watched her son affectionately. “Last year he shows up on my doorstep bright and early Christmas morning needing gift wrap. Then, once he’s got all his presents wrapped, he walks into my kitchen—” her face crinkled in a wide grin “—and he sticks all those presents in my refrigerator.” She smiled at the memory. “For his brother, he bought two canned hams and three gallons of ice cream. For me it was cat food and a couple of rib roasts.”
Breakfast was a bustling affair, with Joe’s younger brother, his wife and their children gathered around the table. Joe sat next to Cait and held her hand while his mother offered the blessing. Although she wasn’t home with her own family, Cait felt she had a good deal for which to be thankful.
Conversation was pleasant and relaxed, but foremost on the children’s minds was opening the gifts. The table was cleared and plates and bowls arranged inside the dishwasher in record time.
Cait sat beside Joe, holding a cup of coffee, as the oldest grandchild handed out the presents. While Christmas music played softly in the background, the children tore into theirpackages. The youngest, a two-year-old girl, was more interested in the box than in the gift itself.
When Joe came to the square package Cait had given him, he shook it enthusiastically.
