Page 78 of Romance and Peppermint Lattes
“What about you?” Joe asked, turning unexpectedly to face her.
“What about me?”
“Why haven’t you married?”
“Uh...” Cait wasn’t sure how to answer him. She had a glib reply she usually gave when anyone asked, but somehow she knew Joe wouldn’t accept that. “I... I’ve never really fallen in love.”
“What about Paul?”
“Until Paul,” she corrected, stunned that she’d forgotten the strong feelings she held for her employer. She’d been so concerned with being honest that she’d overlooked the obvious. “I am deeply in love with Paul,” she said defiantly, wanting there to be no misunderstanding.
“There’s no need to convince me, Caitlin.”
“I’m not trying to convince you of anything. I’ve been in love with Paul for nearly a year. Once he realizes he loves me, too, we’ll be married.”
Joe’s mouth slanted in a wry line and he seemed about to argue with her. Cait waylaid any attempt by glancing pointedly at her watch. “Shouldn’t we be leaving?”
After a long moment, Joe said, “Yes, I suppose we should,” in a mild, neutral voice.
Cait went to the hall closet for her coat, aware with every step she took that Joe was watching her. She turned back to smile at him, but somehow the smile didn’t materialize. His blue eyes met hers, and she found his look disturbing—caressing, somehow, and intimate.
Joe helped her on with her coat and led her to the parking lot, where he’d left his car. Another surprise awaited her. It wasn’t a four-wheel-drive truck, but a late sixties black convertible in mint condition.
The restaurant was one of the most respected in Seattle, with a noted chef and a reputation for excellent seafood. Cait chose grilled salmon and Joe ordered Cajun shrimp.
“Do you remember the time Martin and I decided to open our own business?” Joe asked, as they sipped a predinner glass of wine.
Cait did indeed recall that summer. “You might have been a bit more ingenious. A lemonade stand wasn’t the world’s most creative enterprise.”
“Perhaps not, but we were doing a brisk business until an annoying eight-year-old girl ruined everything.”
Cait wasn’t about to let that comment pass. “You were using moldy lemons and covering the taste with too much sugar. Besides, it’s unhealthy to share paper cups.”
Joe chuckled, the sound deep and rich. “I should’ve known then that you were nothing but trouble.”
“It seems to me the whole mess was your own fault. You boys wouldn’t listen to me. I had to do something before someone got sick on those lemons.”
“Carrying a picket sign that read ‘Talk to me before you buy this lemonade’ was a bit drastic even for you, don’t you think?”
“If anything, it brought you more business,” Cait said dryly, recalling how her plan had backfired. “All the boys in the neighborhood wanted to see what contaminated lemonade tasted like.”
“You were a damn nuisance, Cait. Own up to it.” He smiled and Cait sincerely doubted that any woman could argue with him when he smiled full-force.
“I most certainly was not! If anything you two were—”
“Disgusting, I believe, was your favorite word for Martin and me.”
“And you did your level best to live up to it,” she said, struggling to hold back a smile. She reached for a breadstick and bit into it to disguise her amusement. She’d always enjoyed rankling Martin and Joe, though she’d never have admitted it, especially at the age of eight.
“Picketing our lemonade stand wasn’t the worst trick you ever pulled, either,” Joe said mischievously.
Cait had trouble swallowing. She should have been prepared for this. If he remembered her complaints about the lemonade stand, he was sure to remember what had happened once Betsy McDonald found out about the kissing incident.
“It wasn’t a trick,” Cait protested.
“But you told everyone at school that I’d kissed you—even though you’d promised not to.”
“Not exactly.” There was a small discrepancy that needed clarification. “If you think back you’ll remember you said I couldn’t tell anyone I’d been inside the fort. You didn’t say anything about the kiss.”
