Sherryl Woods – Waking Up In Charleston (страница 9)

“I love pizza,” he declared. “And who wants to order a large pizza just for one person? You guys give me the perfect excuse.”

Susie’s eyes glowed with excitement. “See, Mommy. Mr. Caleb likes pizza as much as I do. So can he stay?”

Amanda gave Caleb a look of mock severity. “Did you put her up to this?”

He winked at Susie. “Absolutely not,” he swore solemnly. “I just figure that a man who’s risked his back to haul furniture for you ought to get something out of the deal.”

“And you want to be paid in pizza?” Amanda asked doubtfully.

“Actually, I’m buying the pizza. Your company is enough payment.”

Amanda regarded him warily. “You can’t keep doing this,” she said.

“Doing what?” he asked, his expression all innocence.

“Dreaming up excuses to feed us.” She set Susie down. “Go get your brothers and tell them to wash up for dinner.”

As soon as her daughter was gone, she faced Caleb, determined to set some long-needed parameters. “You’ve done enough, Caleb. I won’t let you go on treating us like your pet charity. My budget’s not that tight. I can afford to pay for pizza once in a while. And now that we have this brand-new kitchen, I can even cook a meal for all of us.”

“But why should you cook after working hard all day or pay for pizza when I can?” he asked reasonably.

“Because getting back on my feet means being on equal footing with my friends. I need to do things for you once in a while. Otherwise, I’ll start feeling indebted to you. I don’t think that sort of thing is good for a friendship, do you?”

He nodded slowly at that. “Point taken. You can buy the pizza tonight.”

“And next time,” she said firmly, knowing there would be a next time, no matter what excuse he—or she—had to dream up to make it happen.

“We’ll table that discussion till the next time,” he said just as firmly. “We men have our pride, too, you know.”

Amanda had lived with two males who’d had it in spades. She gave Caleb a wry look. “Believe me, I know. It’s not something I’d brag about, if I were you.”

He regarded her with understanding. “Lumping me in with Bobby or your father, Amanda? Do you really think there’s any comparison?”

“Not yet,” she replied. “But you could be standing on the edge of a slippery slope. Now seems like the time to drag you back.”

He laughed at that. “You go set the table. I’ll call for the pizza,” he said, then added, “Paper plates will do.”

“Not in my house,” she called back. “Not for guests.”

She was in the kitchen distributing plates and silverware when Caleb joined her, his expression oddly troubled.

“Don’t tell me the pizza place is closed,” she joked lightly.

“No, the pizza’s on the way. I got a salad, too.”

“Then what’s with the somber look? Bad news?”

“No, it was something you said.”

She tried to recall what might have put that look on his face. She couldn’t come up with anything. “What?”

“You still think of me as a guest,” he said.

Amanda didn’t see the problem. “Isn’t that what you are?”

He shrugged. “I guess I was sort of hoping by now you’d start thinking of me as part of the family, or at least as the kind of friend who doesn’t require going to any trouble.”

There was no mistaking the genuine dismay in his voice, so she guided him toward a chair. “Sit.”

A grin tugged at his lips. “Bossy, aren’t you?”

“You have no idea,” she said dryly. She might be out of practice, but she’d once excelled at getting things done to her satisfaction. It was a trait she’d learned at her daddy’s knee.

“Now, you listen to me, Caleb Webb,” she lectured sternly. “You’ve been the best friend this family has ever had, which is exactly why I want to show you some respect when you come here. Maybe in your world that means eating off paper plates and not going to any trouble, but in mine it means observing some of the niceties.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, his eyes twinkling despite the meek tone.

She frowned at the interruption. “I might not be able to pour fine wine into crystal goblets in my house,” she continued. “I can’t serve you on bone china that came over from England a couple of centuries ago for my great-great-grandmother’s wedding, but I can at least treat mealtime as an occasion.”

His grin spread as she spoke. “Okay, then. Guess that means I ought to at least put my shirt back on.”

“You should,” she said, though not without regret. “And wash your hands.”

He snapped a salute and started toward the bathroom, then came back and dropped another one of those sneaky, sizzling little kisses on her mouth.

“Have I mentioned how adorable you are when you get up on your high horse?” he asked.

Her gaze narrowed. “That sounds suspiciously close to telling me I’m cute when I’m angry.”

He held up his hands. “Not a chance, darlin’. I know better than that. The last thing I want to do is set off World War III around here right before dinner. It’s bad for the digestion.”

She gave him a wry look. “I think the pizza will take care of that, especially if you ordered pepperoni, jalapeños and onions again.”

“Only on my half,” he reassured her.

Amanda shuddered. “Who would have thought a preacher would have a cast-iron stomach?”

He gave her an amused look. “Did you think we lived on oatmeal or something?”

“I think I always imagined you lived on Sunday dinners of fried chicken, peas, mashed potatoes and apple pie at some parishioner’s home. Beyond that, I guess I never gave it much thought. The burgers we consumed while we were building the house should have been a clue. You put jalapeños on those, too, didn’t you?”

“Every chance I got,” he told her. His gaze met hers, then held it. “What can I say? I like a little spice in my life.”

He’s talking about food, Amanda reminded herself sternly when he walked away, his lips twitching. He had to be. Preachers surely didn’t flirt so outrageously.

Or did they? How on earth was she supposed to know what preachers did? Caleb was the only one she’d ever known beyond the most casual greeting at some function or another. Amazingly, he suddenly struck her as someone who was all too eager to break a few rules, or at least to bend them.

Was she ready to do the same? She tried to imagine opening up her heart again and she couldn’t. Not even to a man as rock-solid and dependable as Caleb.

For one thing, it was becoming clear that under that steady, staid exterior beat the heart of a man capable of a few surprises, and Amanda had had all the surprises in life she could handle. She’d vowed on the day they’d put Bobby in his grave that she’d never risk another one, not for herself, not for her children.

For another, there was the whole independence thing. She still needed to prove to herself that she had what it took to make a success of her life, to give her children what they needed to become good people. Her father had been so sure she couldn’t do that, not with Bobby by her side and certainly not on her own.

She sighed at the thought. And wasn’t it ironic that even after all this time and all her disclaimers to the contrary, her father’s opinion still drove some of her decisions? Obviously she still had some work to do to claim that independence she prized so much.

4

As he dutifully washed his hands as ordered, Caleb thought about the twists and turns his life had taken. He wasn’t entirely sure when he’d fallen for Amanda with her chin-up pride and stubbornness and her sad, vulnerable eyes, but the knowledge of the attraction had been eating at him for a long time now. There were so many things wrong with it, he couldn’t begin to count them all.

She was a member of his church for one thing. For another, after her husband’s death, she’d needed his counseling and his comfort. He couldn’t do that objectively if his own emotions kept getting in the way.

And then there was Max. There were times when Caleb thought he’d made a deal with the devil when he’d agreed to Max’s scheme to help his daughter get out from under the mountain of debt she’d been left in after Bobby’s death. He’d known buying the land for her house anonymously was the only way Max could make himself reach out, but Caleb had done everything he knew how to do to convince the stubborn old coot to go about helping in a more straightforward way.

His entreaties had fallen on deaf ears, and now Caleb was burdened with this secret that stood squarely between him and Amanda. If she ever discovered what he’d been keeping from her, he doubted she’d forgive him. The animosity between her and Max ran too deep. She wouldn’t take kindly to the fact that Caleb had been in cahoots with him behind her back, even with the best intentions.

But despite the potential for heartache, Caleb couldn’t seem to stay away from this woman whose strength he’d come to admire. Nor could he seem to keep himself from stealing an occasional kiss, just as he had earlier. He knew it disconcerted Amanda. Heck, it disconcerted him. He wasn’t in the habit of tossing out innuendoes and hoping for a quick rise of color in a woman’s cheeks. In his own way, he was every bit as skittish about love and commitment as Amanda. He believed in it in the abstract. He preached about its importance in church and counseled couples on ways to make the love stronger in their marriages. But he doubted he’d ever take another chance on it himself.