Page 67 of Her Cadillac Cowboy
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
As the door closed behind the teens, Josh turned to the woman in his living room. Being near Sara all evening had been torture. Every time her mouth closed around her fork, his body had tensed with visions of her mouth closing around him. Every swallow of smooth, spicy sauce made his mouth water for the smooth, spicy taste of Sara instead. He shook his head at himself.Will’s right. I really do have it bad.
He’d promised Sara he wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want. He had to get himself in hand. If not, he’d have his hands all over Sara. That mental image produced a groan. He took a deep breath and purposely bit his inner cheek, then walked toward the living room windows where Sara waited.
She stood as she had earlier that evening, her back to the room, watching the breakers. He cleared his throat; she swung around to face him.
“Well, is he off okay?”
“Without a hitch.”
She nodded, crossed her arms over her chest, and rubbed her shoulders.
She looked uncomfortable, tense. He wanted to go to her and soothe away her tension, her problems, but he wasn’t sure if she’d want that. So he waited. She bent forward, taking her glass from the coffee table where she’d left it, and took a swallow of the ruby liquid. A drop trembled on her lower lip, then her tongue swept it up, and both disappeared behind her pink lips.
Yes, it was possible to be jealous of a drop of wine.
A frown crept across her face. What now? Would she berate him for letting Will leave without doing the dishes? Maybe she wanted to lambaste him again for keeping the Caddy after inheriting it from his uncle. Hopefully, she wasn’t going to make another pitch for the warehouse. Surely, she realized by now how much Luville needed quality daycare. The silence and a dozen other problems stretched between them.
“May I help with the dishes?”
The question was totally unexpected. “Will was so good about waiting until after dinner to see his friend that I told him I’d do the dishes as a reward for him doing the right thing.” Josh found himself explaining before he realized an explanation was unnecessary.
Sara smiled and gestured toward the kitchen. “That seems sensible. Shall we get to work?”
“Sure.” A grin spread over his face. “I’ll get the sink ready and wash, if you’ll bring the dishes in and dry.” The cottage had the bare minimums when he bought the place. He’d been too busy to install a dishwasher.
“Deal.”
Minutes later, Josh took the first load of glasses and silverware from Sara.
“I have another deal I want to discuss with you,” she said amid the clatter of cutlery.
His hands froze as he plunged them, along with the dirty tableware, into the steaming bubbles.Here it comes. The pitch for Carson’s financial stability and her daddy’s health over badly needed daycare and the wellbeing of a hundred-plus kids.He scrubbed at wine goblets and forks while he waited for herdeal.
“I want to rent the Caddy.”
Surprised, he stabbed himself on a paring knife. “Ow. You want what?”
“Here, let me see that.” She ignored his question and reached for his hand. “That’s a nasty cut, Josh. Where do you keep the Band-Aids and antiseptic?”
“In the bathroom medicine cabinet.” He examined the blood oozing from his sliced fingertip. “This is minor. What do you...?”
“Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
So much for an immediate explanation of what renting the Caddy was all about. As Sara bustled back into the kitchen, he propped his hand on the table and leaned back in his chair. If she wanted to pamper him over a miniscule cut on his little finger, why should he complain?
“There, that should hold you. Just keep it dry.”
Josh examined his finger. “Thanks, doc. I’m glad you were on the scene.”
“Don’t ask me to do major surgery.”
He laughed softly and took her hand.
She stared at their linked fingers.
He searched her face. The worry lines on her forehead and the bleak look in her eyes nearly broke his heart. “For a successful physician, you look mighty unhappy.”
