Page 90 of Romance and Peppermint Lattes
“How else was I supposed to explain the fact that you’d forgotten our marriage?” he asked reasonably.
“I did not forget our marriage,” she informed him from between clenched teeth, reviewing the menu and quickly making her selection. “Good grief, it wasn’t even legal.”
She realized that the waitress was standing by their table, pen and pad in hand. The woman’s ready smile faded as she looked from Cait to Joe and back again. Her mouth tightened as if she suspected they really were involved in something illegal.
“Uh...” Cait hedged, feeling like even more of an idiot. The urge to explain was overwhelming, but every time she tried, she only made matters worse. “I’ll have the club sandwich,” she said, glaring across the table at Joe.
“That sounds good. I’ll have the same,” he said, closing his menu.
The woman scribbled down their order, then hurried away, pausing to glance over her shoulder as if she wanted to be able to identify them later in a police lineup.
“Now look what you’ve done,” Cait whispered heatedly once the waitress was far enough away from their table not to overhear.
“Me?”
Maybe she was being unreasonable, but Joe was the one who’d started this nonsense in the first place. No one could rattle her as effectively as Joe did. And worse, she let him.
This shopping trip was a good example, and so was the pizza that led up to it. No woman in her right mind should’ve allowed Joe into her apartment after what he’d said to her in front of Lindy. Not only had she invited him inside her home, she’d agreed to let him accompany her Christmas shopping. She ought to have her head examined!
“What’s wrong?” Joe asked, tearing open the package of bread sticks. Rather pointless in Cait’s opinion, since their lunch would be served any minute.
“What’s wrong?” she cried, dumbfounded that he had to ask. “You mean other than the hostess believing I’ve suffered a head injury and the waitress thinking we’re drug dealers or something equally disgusting?”
“Here.” He handed her one of the miniature bread sticks. “Eat this and you’ll feel better.”
Cait sincerely doubted that, but she took it, anyway, muttering under her breath.
“Relax,” he urged.
“Relax,” she mocked. “How can I possibly relax when you’re doing and saying things I find excruciatingly embarrassing?”
“I’m sorry, Cait. Really, I am.” To his credit, he did look contrite. “But you’re so easy to fluster and I can’t seem to stop myself.”
Their sandwiches arrived, thick with slices of turkey, ham and a variety of cheeses. Cait was reluctant to admit how much better she felt after she’d eaten. Joe’s spirits had apparently improved, as well.
“So,” he said, his hands resting on his stomach. “What do you have planned for the rest of the afternoon?”
Cait hadn’t given it much thought. “I suppose I should wrap the gifts I bought this morning.” But that prospect didn’t particularly excite her. Good grief, after the adventures she’d had with Joe, it wasn’t any wonder.
“You mean you actually wrap gifts before Christmas Eve?” Joe asked. “Doesn’t that take all the fun out of it? I mean, for me it’s a game just to see if I can get the presents bought.”
She grinned, trying to imagine herself in such a disorganized race to the deadline. Definitely not her style.
“How about a movie?” he suggested out of the blue. “I have the feeling you don’t get out enough.”
“A movie?” Cait ignored the comment about her social life, mainly because he was right. She rarely took the time to go to a show.
“We’re both exhausted from fighting the crowds,” Joe added. “There’s a six-cinema theater next to the restaurant. I’ll even let you choose.”
“I suppose you’d object to a love story?”
“We can see one if you insist, only...”
“Only what?”
“Only promise me you won’t ever expect a man to say the kinds of things those guys on the screen do.”
“I beg your pardon?”
