“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 their packages. 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.

  “Be careful, it might break,” she warned, knowing there was no chance of that happening.

  Carefully he removed the bows, then unwrapped his gift. Cait watched expectantly as he lifted the book from the layers of bright paper. “A book on baseball?”

  Cait nodded, smiling. “As I recall, you used to collect baseball cards.”

  “I ended up trading away my two favorites.”

  “I’m sure it was for a very good reason.”

  “Of course.”

  Their eyes held until it became apparent that everyone in the room was watching them. Cait glanced self-consciously away.

  Joe cleared his throat. “This is a great gift, Cait. Thank you very much.”

  “You’re welcome very much.”

  He leaned over and kissed her as if it was the most natural thing in the world. It felt right, their kiss. If anything, Cait was sorry to stop at one.

  “Surely you have something for Cait,” Virginia Rockwell prompted her son.

  “You bet I do.”

  “He’s probably keeping it in the refrigerator,” Cait suggested, to the delight of Joe’s family.

  “Oh, ye of little faith,” he said, removing a box from his shirt pocket.

  “I recognize that paper,” Sally, Joe’s sister-in-law, murmured to Cait. “It’s from Stanley’s.”

  Cait’s eyes widened at the name of an expensive local jewelry store. “Joe?”

  “Go ahead and open it,” he urged.

  Cait did, hands fumbling in her eagerness. She slipped off the ribbon and peeled away the gold textured wrap to reveal a white jeweler’s box. It contained a second box, a small black velvet one, which she opened very slowly. She gasped at the lovely cameo brooch inside.

  “Oh, Joe,” she whispered. It was a lovely piece carved in onyx and overlaid with ivory. She’d longed for a cameo, a really nice one, for years and wondered how Joe could possibly have known.

  “You gonna kiss Uncle Joe?” his nephew, Charlie, asked, “’cause if you are, I’m not looking.”

  “Of course she’s going to kiss me,” Joe answered for her. “Only she can do it later when there aren’t so many curious people around.” He glanced swiftly at his mother. “Just the way Mom used to thank Dad for her Christmas gift. Isn’t that right, Mom?”

  “I’m sure Cait…will,” Virginia answered, clearly flustered. She patted her hand against the side of her head as though she feared the pins had fallen from her hair, her eyes downcast.

  Cait didn’t blame the older woman for being embarrassed, but one look at the cameo and she was willing to forgive Joe anything.

  The day flew past. After the gifts were opened—with everyone exclaiming in surprised delight over the gifts Joe had bought, with Cait’s help—the family gathered around the piano. Mrs. Rockwell played as they sang a variety of Christmas carols, their voices loud and cheerful. Joe’s father had died several years earlier, but he was mentioned often throughout the day, with affection and love. Cait hadn’t known him well, but the family obviously felt Andrew Rockwell’s presence far more than his absence on this festive day.

  Joe drove Cait back to her apartment late that night. Mrs. Rockwell had insisted on sending a plate of cookies home with her, and Cait swore it was enough goodies to last her a month of Sundays. Now she felt sleepy and warm; leaning her head against the seat, she closed her eyes.

  “We’re here,” Joe whispered close to her ear.

  Reluctantly Cait opened her eyes and sighed. “I had such a wonderful day. Thank you, Joe.” She couldn’t quite stifle a yawn as she reached for the door handle, thinking longingly of bed.

  “That’s it?” He sounded disappointed.

  “What do you mean, that’s it?”

  “I seem to remember a certain promise you made this morning.”

  Cait frowned, not sure she understood what he meant. “When?”

  “When we were opening the gifts,” he reminded her.

  “Oh,” Cait said, straightening. “You mean when I opened your gift to me and saw the brooch.”

  Joe nodded with exaggerated emphasis. “Right. Now do you remember?”

  “Of course.” The kiss. He planned to claim the kiss she’d promised him. She brushed her mouth quickly over his and grinned. “There.”

  “If that’s the best you can do, you should’ve kissed me in front of Charlie.”

  “You’re faulting my kissing ability?”

  “Charlie’s dog gives better kisses than that.”

  Cait felt more than a little insulted. “Is this a challenge, Joseph Rockwell?”

  “Yes,” he returned archly. “You’re darn right it is.”

  “All right, then you’re on.” She set the plate of cookies aside, slid closer and slipped her arms around Joe’s neck. Next she wove her fingers into his thick hair.

  “This is more like it,” Joe murmured contentedly.

  Cait paused. She wasn’t sure why. Perhaps because she’d suddenly lost all interest in making fun out of something that had always been so wonderful between them.

  Joe’s eyes met hers, and the laughter and fun in them seemed to disappear. Slowly he expelled his breath and brushed his lips along her jaw. The warmth of his breath was exciting as his mouth skimmed toward her temple. His arms closed around her waist and he pulled her tight against him.

  Impatiently he began to kiss her, introducing her to a world of warm, thrilling sensations. His mouth then explored the curve of her neck. It felt so good that Cait closed her eyes and experienced a curious weightlessness she’d never known—a heightened awareness of physical longing.

  “Oh, Cait…” He broke away from her, his breathing labored and heavy. She knew instinctively that he wanted to say more, but he changed his mind and buried his face in her hair, exhaling sharply.

  “How am I doing?” she whispered once she found her voice.

  “Just fine.”

  “Are you ready to retract your statement?”

  He hesitated. “I don’t know. Convince me again.” So she did, her kiss moist and gentle, her heart fluttering against her ribs.

  “Is that good enough?” she asked when she’d recovered her breath.

  Joe nodded, as though he didn’t quite trust his own voice. “Excellent.”

  “I had a wonderful day,” she whispered. “I can’t thank you enough for including me.”

  Joe shook his head lightly. There seemed to be so much more he wanted to say to her and couldn’t. Cait slipped out of the car and walked into her building, turning on the lights when she entered her apartment. She slowly put away her things, wanting to wrap this feeling around her like a warm quilt. Minutes later, she glanced out her window to see Joe still sitting in his car, his hands gripping the steering wheel, his head bent. It looked to Cait as though he was battling with himself to keep from following her inside. She would have welcomed him if he had.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Cait stared at the computer screen for several minutes, blind to the information in front of her. Deep in thought, she released a long, slow breath.

  Paul had been grateful to see her when she’d shown up at the office that morning. The week between Christmas and New Year’s could be a harried one. Lindy had looked surprised, then quickly retreated into her own office after exchanging a brief good-morning and little else. Her friend’s behavior continued to baffle Cait, but she couldn’t concentrate on Lindy’s problems just now, or even on her work.

  No matter what she did, Cait couldn’t stop thinking about Joe and the kisses they’d exchanged Christmas evening. Nor could she forget his tortured look as he’d sat in his car after she’d gone into her apartment. Even now she wasn’t certain why she hadn’t immediately run back outside. And by the time she’d decided to do that, he was gone.

  Cait was so absorbed in her musings that she barely heard the knock at her office door. Guiltily she glanced up to find Paul standing just inside her doorway, his hands in his pockets, his eyes weary.

  “Paul!” Cait waited for her heart to trip into double time the way it usually did whenever she was anywhere near him. It didn’t, which was a relief but no longer much of a surprise.

  “Hello, Cait.” His smile was uneven, his face tight. He seemed ill at ease and struggling to disguise it. “Have you got a moment?”

  “Sure. Come on in.” She stood and motioned toward her client chair. “What can I do for you?”

  “Nothing much,” he said vaguely, sitting down. “Uh, I just wanted you to know how pleased I am that you’re here. I’m sorry you canceled your vacation, but I appreciate your coming in today. Especially in light of the fact that Lindy will be leaving.” His mouth thinned briefly.

  No one, other than Joe and Martin, was aware of the real reason Cait wasn’t in Minnesota the way she’d planned. Nor had she suggested to Paul that she’d changed her plans to help him out because they’d be short-staffed; obviously he’d drawn his own conclusions.

  “So Lindy’s decided to follow through with her resignation?”

  Paul nodded, then frowned anew. “Nothing I say will change her mind. That woman’s got a stubborn streak as wide as a…” He shrugged, apparently unable to come up with an appropriate comparison.

  “The construction project’s nearly finished,” Cait offered, making small talk rather than joining in his criticism of Lindy. Absently she stood up and wandered around her office, stopping to straighten the large Christmas wreath on her door, the one she and Lindy had put up earlier in the month. Lindy was her friend and she wasn’t about to agree with Paul, or argue with him, for that matter. Actually she should’ve been pleased that Paul had sought her out, but she felt curiously indifferent. And she did have work she needed to do.

  “Yes, I’m delighted with the way everything’s turned out,” Paul said, “Joe Rockwell’s done a fine job. His reputation is excellent and I imagine he’ll be one of the big-time contractors in the area within the next few years.”

  Cait nodded casually, hoping she’d concealed the thrill of excitement that had surged through her at the mention of Joe’s name. She didn’t need Paul to tell her Joe’s future was bright; she could see that for herself. At Christmas, his mother had boasted freely about his success. Joe had recently received a contract for a large government project—his most important to date—and she was extremely proud of him. He might have trouble keeping his books straight, but he left his customers satisfied. If he worked as hard at satisfying them as he did at finding the right Christmas tree, Cait could well believe he was gaining a reputation for excellence.

  “Well, listen,” Paul said, drawing in a deep breath, “I won’t keep you.” His eyes were clouded as he stood and headed toward the door. He hesitated, turning back to face her. “I don’t suppose you’d be free for dinner tonight, would you?”

  “Dinner,” Cait repeated as though she’d never heard the word before. Paul was inviting her to dinner? After all these months? Now, when she least expected it? Now, when it no longer mattered? After all the times she’d ached to the bottom of her heart for some attention from him, he was finally asking her out on a date? Now?

  “That is, if you’re free.”

  “Uh…yes, sure…that would be nice.”

  “Great. How about if I pick you up around five-thirty? Unless that’s too early for you?”

  “Five-thirty will be fine.”

  “I’ll see you then.”

  “Thanks, Paul.” Cait felt numb. There wasn’t any other way to describe it. It was as if her dreams were finally beginning to play themselves out—too late. Paul, whom she’d loved from afar for so long, wanted to take her to dinner. She should be dancing around the office with glee, or at least feeling something other than this peculiar dull sensation in the pit of her stomach. If this was such a significant, exciting, hoped-for event, why didn’t she feel any of the exhilaration she’d expected?

  After taking a moment to collect her thoughts, Cait walked down the hallway to Lindy’s office and found her friend on the phone. Lindy glanced up, smiled feebly in Cait’s direction, then abruptly dropped her gaze as if the call demanded her full concentration.

  Cait waited a couple of minutes, then decided to return later when Lindy wasn’t so busy. She needed to talk to her friend, needed her counsel. Lindy had always encouraged Cait in her dreams of a relationship with Paul. When she was discouraged, it was Lindy who bolstered her sagging spirits. Yes, it was definitely time for a talk. She’d try to get Lindy to confide in her, too. Cait valued Lindy’s friendship; true, she couldn’t help being hurt that the person she considered one of her best friends would give notice to leave the firm without even discussing it with her. But Lindy must’ve had her reasons. And maybe she, too, needed some support right about now.

  Hearing her own phone ring, Cait hurried back to her office. She was consistantly busy from then on. The New York Stock Exchange was due to close in a matter of minutes when Joe happened by.

  “Hi,” Cait greeted him, her smile wide and welcoming. Her gaze connected with Joe’s and he returned her smile. Her heart reacted automatically, leaping with sheer happiness.

  “Hi, yourself.” He sauntered into her office and threw himself down in the same chair Paul had taken earlier, stretching his long legs in front of him and folding his hands over his stomach. “So how’s the world of finance doing this fine day?”

  “About as well as usual.”

  “Then we’re in deep trouble,” he joked.

  His smile was infectious. It always had been, but Cait had initially resisted him. Her defenses had weakened, though, and she responded readily with a smile of her own.

  “You done for the day?”

  “Just about.” She checked the time. In another five minutes, New York would be closing down. There were several items she needed to clear from her desk, but nothing pressing. “Why?”

  “Why?” It was little short of astonishing how far Joe’s eyebrows could reach, Cait noted, all but disappearing into his hairline.

  “Can’t a man ask a simple question?” Joe asked.

  “Of course.” The banter between them was like a well-rehearsed play. Never had Cait been more at ease with a man—or had more fun with a man. Or with anyone, really. “What I want to know is whether ‘simple’ refers to the question or to the man asking it.”