Debbie Macomber - Home for the Holidays - The Forgetful Bride / When Christmas Comes

The following day while she was studying the construction worker, he’d unexpectedly turned and smiled at something one of his men had said. His smile, she decided, intrigued her most. It was slightly off center and seemed to tease the corners of his mouth. He looked her way more than once and each time she thought she detected a touch of humor, an amused knowledge that lurked just beneath the surface.

“It’s driving me crazy,” Cait confessed to Lindy over lunch.

“What is?”

“That I can’t place him.”

Lindy set her elbows on the table, holding her sandwich poised in front of her mouth. She nodded slowly, her eyes distant. “When you figure it out, introduce me, will you? I could go for a guy this sexy.”

So Lindy had noticed that earthy sensuality about him, too. Well, of course she had—any woman would.

After lunch, Cait returned to the office to make a few calls. He was there again.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t place him. Work became a pretense as she continued to scrutinize him, racking her brain. Then, when she least expected it, he strolled past her and brazenly winked a second time.

As the color clawed up her neck, Cait flashed her attention back to her computer screen.

“His name is Joe,” Lindy rushed in to tell her ten minutes later. “I heard one of the men call him that.”

“Joe,” Cait repeated slowly. She couldn’t remember ever knowing anyone named Joe.

“Does that help?”

“No,” Cait said, shaking her head regretfully. If she’d ever met this man, she wasn’t likely to have overlooked the experience. He wasn’t someone a woman easily forgot.

“Ask him,” Lindy said. “It’s ridiculous not to. It’s driving you insane. Then,” she added with infuriating logic, “when you find out, you can nonchalantly introduce me.”

“I can’t just waltz up and start quizzing him,” Cait argued. The idea was preposterous. “He’ll think I’m trying to pick him up.”

“You’ll go crazy if you don’t.”

Cait sighed. “You’re right. I’m not going to sleep tonight if I don’t settle this.”

With Lindy waiting expectantly in her office, Cait approached him. He was talking to another member of the crew and once he’d finished, he turned to her with one of his devastating lazy smiles.

“Hello,” she said, and her voice shook slightly. “Do I know you?”

“You mean you’ve forgotten?” he asked, sounding shocked and insulted.

“Apparently. Though I’ll admit you look somewhat familiar.”

“I should certainly hope so. We shared something very special a few years back.”

“We did?” Cait was more confused than ever.

“Hey, Joe, there’s a problem over here,” a male voice shouted. “Could you come look at this?”

“I’ll be with you in a minute,” he answered brusquely over his shoulder. “Sorry, we’ll have to talk later.”

“But—”

“Say hello to Martin for me, would you?” he asked as he stalked past her and into the room that had once been Cait’s office.

Martin, her brother. Cait hadn’t a clue what her brother could possibly have to do with this. Mentally she ran through a list of his teenage friends and came up blank.

Then it hit her. Bull’s-eye. Her heart started to pound until it roared like a tropical storm in her ears. Mechanically Cait made her way back to Lindy’s office. She sank into a chair beside the desk and stared into space.

“Well?” Lindy pressed. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”

“Um, it’s not that easy to explain.”

“You remember him, then?”

She nodded. Oh, Lord, did she ever.

“Good grief, what’s wrong? You’ve gone so pale!”

Cait tried to come up with an explanation that wouldn’t sound…ridiculous.

“Tell me,” Lindy said. “Don’t just sit there wearing a foolish grin and looking like you’re about to faint.”

“Um, it goes back a few years.”

“All right. Start there.”

“Remember how kids sometimes do silly things? Like when you’re young and foolish and don’t know any better?”

“Me, yes, but not you,” Lindy said calmly. “You’re perfect. In all the time we’ve been friends, I haven’t seen you do one impulsive thing. Not one. You analyze everything before you act. I can’t imagine you ever doing anything silly.”

“I did once,” Cait told her, “but I was only eight.”

“What could you have possibly done at age eight?”

“I…I got married.”

“Married?” Lindy half rose from her chair. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“I wish I was.”

“I’ll bet a week’s commissions that your husband’s name is Joe.” Lindy was smiling now, smiling widely.

Cait nodded and tried to smile in return.

“What’s there to worry about? Good grief, kids do that sort of thing all the time! It doesn’t mean anything.”

“But I was a real brat about it. Joe and my brother, Martin, were best friends. Joe wanted to know what it felt like to kiss a girl, and I insisted he marry me first. If that wasn’t bad enough, I pressured them into performing the ceremony inside their boys-only fort.”

“So, you were a bit of pain—most eight-year-old girls are when it comes to dealing with their brothers. He got what he wanted, didn’t he?”

Cait took a deep breath and nodded again.

“What was kissing him like?” Lindy asked in a curiously throaty voice.

“Good heavens, I don’t remember,” Cait answered shortly, then reconsidered. “I take that back. As I recall, it wasn’t so bad, though obviously neither one of us had any idea what we were doing.”

“Lindy, you’re still here,” Paul said as he strolled into the office. He inclined his head briefly in Cait’s direction, but she had the impression he barely saw her. He’d hardly been around in the past couple of days—almost as if he was purposely avoiding her, she mused, but that thought was too painful to contemplate.

“I was just finishing up,” Lindy said, glancing guiltily toward Cait. “We both were.”

“Fine, fine, I didn’t mean to disturb you. I’ll see you two in the morning.” A second later, he was gone.

Cait gazed after him with thinly disguised emotion. She waited until Paul was well out of range before she spoke. “He’s so blind. What do I have to do, hit him over the head?”

“Quit being so negative,” Lindy admonished. “You’re going to be sharing an office with him for another five days. Do whatever you need to make darn sure he notices you.”

“I’ve tried,” Cait murmured, discouraged. And she had. She’d tried every trick known to woman, with little success.

Lindy left the office before her. Cait gathered up some stock reports to read that evening and stacked them neatly inside her leather briefcase. What Lindy had said about her being methodical and careful was true. It was also a source of pride; those traits had served her clients well.

To Cait’s dismay, Joe followed her. “So,” he said, smiling down at her, apparently oblivious to the other people clustering around the elevator. “Who have you been kissing these days?”

Hot color rose instantly to her face. Did he have to humiliate her in public?

“I could find myself jealous, you know.”

“Would you kindly stop,” she whispered furiously, scowling at him. Her hand tightened around the handle of her briefcase so hard her fingers ached.

“You figured it out?”

She nodded, her eyes darting to the lighted numbers above the elevator door, praying it would make its descent in record time instead of pausing on each floor.

“The years have been good to you.”

“Thank you.” Please hurry, she urged the elevator.

“I never would’ve believed Martin’s little sister would turn out to be such a beauty.”