Page 79 of Romance and Peppermint Lattes
Joe frowned darkly as if attempting to jog his memory. “How can you remember details like that? All of this happened years ago.”
“I remember everything,” Cait said grandly—a gross exaggeration. She hadn’t recognized Joe, after all. But on this one point she was absolutely clear. “You and Martin were far more concerned that I not tell anyone about going inside the fort. You didn’t say a word about keeping the kiss a secret.”
“But did you have to tell Betsy McDonald? That girl had been making eyes at me for weeks. As soon as she learned I’d kissed you instead of her, she was furious.”
“Betsy was the most popular girl in school. I wanted her for my friend, so I told.”
“And sold me down the river.”
“Would an apology help?” Confident he was teasing her once again, Cait gave him her most charming smile.
“An apology just might do it.” Joe grinned back, a grin that brightened his eyes to a deeper, more tantalizing shade of blue. It was with some difficulty that Cait pulled her gaze away from his.
“If Betsy liked you,” she asked, smoothing the linen napkin across her lap, “then why didn’t you kiss her? She’d probably have let you. You wouldn’t have had to bribe her with your precious baseball cards, either.”
“You’re kidding. If I kissed Betsy McDonald I might as well have signed over my soul,” Joe said, continuing the joke.
“Even as mere children, men are afraid of commitment,” Cait said solemnly.
Joe ignored her remark.
“Your memory’s not as sharp as you think,” Cait felt obliged to tell him, enjoying herself more than she’d thought possible.
Once again, Joe overlooked her comment. “I can remember Martin complaining about how you’d line up your dolls in a row and teach them school. Once you even got him to come in as a guest lecturer. Heaven knew what you had to do to get him to play professor to a bunch of dolls.”
“I found a pair of dirty jeans stuffed under the sofa with something dead in the pocket. Mom would have tanned his hide if she’d found them, so Martin owed me a favor. Then he got all bent out of shape when I collected it. He didn’t seem the least bit appreciative that I’d saved him.”
“Good old Martin,” Joe said, shaking his head. “I swear he was as big on ceremony as you were. Marrying us was a turning point in his life. From that point on, he started carting a Bible around with him the way some kids do a slingshot. Right in his hip pocket. If he wasn’t burying something, he was holding revival meetings. Remember how he got in a pack of trouble at school for writing ‘God loves you, ask Martin’ on the back wall of the school?”
“I remember.”
“I sort of figured he might become a missionary.”
“Martin?” She gave an abrupt laugh. “Never. He likes his conveniences. He doesn’t even go camping. Martin’s idea of roughing it is doing without valet service.”
She expected Joe to chuckle. He did smile at her attempted joke, but that was all. He seemed to be studying her the same way she’d been studying him.
“You surprise me,” Joe announced suddenly.
“I do? Am I a disappointment to you?”
“Not at all. I always thought you’d grow up and have a house full of children yourself. You used to haul those dolls of yours around with you everywhere. If Martin and I were too noisy, you’d shush us, saying the babies were asleep. If we wanted to play in the backyard, we couldn’t because you were having a tea party with your dolls. It was enough to drive a ten-year-old boy crazy. But if we ever dared complain, you’d look at us serenely and with the sweetest smile tell us we had to be patient because it was for the children.”
“I did get carried away with all that motherhood business, didn’t I?” Joe’s words stirred up uncomfortable memories, the same ones she’d entertained earlier that afternoon. She really did love children. Yet, somehow, without her quite knowing how, the years had passed and she’d buried the dream. Nowadays she didn’t like to think too much about a husband and family—the life that hadn’t happened. It haunted her at odd moments.
“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.
