“No. It’s not like that. We’re just friends. I’m here for the computer.”Paddy elbowed Mick, and they both roared.
“Lad, didn’t you see that smile? Don’t be fooling yourself. That smile my niece shot you wasn’t for any computer,” Paddy confided.
Judd looked over at Samantha. She frowned as she assessed the situation and began weaving through the crowd toward them.
“Uh oh, here she comes, Mick.” Paddy grabbed the other priest by the arm. “Come on, she’ll be asking how long I’m going to be loitering and taking up paying customer’s seats.” He nodded quickly to Judd. “Good to meet you. I’ll be happy to officiate the wedding when the time comes.”
McNally gulped down his beverage in preparation of a hasty exit. “Saturday. Ten a.m.”
By the time Samantha reached him, Judd’s head was still spinning from his encounters with the good fathers of St. Vincent’s.
“Watch out for those two; they’re trouble,” she said.
“No kidding.”
“What lines were they feeding you?”
“You don’t want to know.” As the priests left the building, the light from the opening front door cast a glow behind Samantha, illuminating her like a halo. He stared, mesmerized.
“Are you okay?” Samantha asked.
“Huh?” Judd shook his head. “Yeah, great.” He glanced down when she put a warm hand on his arm.
“Thank you for putting up my tree.” “No problem,” he said.
She cocked her head and met his gaze. “You’re hard to read.”
“How’s that?”
“Just when I think...” She shrugged. “Never mind. Did you meet my brother, Luke?”
“No.”
“Luke is the third oldest, after Maggie and Matthew. Maggie sometimes comes by to help out, but she’s a single mom and stays very busy. Matthew is in California for a few months.”Judd nodded, recalling his file on the McBrides.
“You remember Danny? He’s Luke’s son. Luke’s divorced. Best not to mention it; he’s still in love with his wife. She left him to find herself.” Samantha rolled her eyes. “But not to worry, I’m working on the situation.”
Judd nodded. She was working on it? Why wasn’t he surprised? “Maggie and Matthew. Got it. I thought you had five brothers.”
“I do. And two sisters. Maggie, Matthew, Luke, Michael, and me.” She paused. “Then Kathleen, Joe, and Peter.”
Good thing he’d done his homework. Memorizing the McBride family tree alone took him a week.
“Luke,” Samantha called to the bartender on the other end of the bar.
Luke McBride turned around. The man was another linebacker. What did they feed these guys? This brother was more somber than Michael and lacked the bright red hair and beard. Clean shaven, his hair was short and copper penny brown. Luke lifted his brows in acknowledgement of his sister. After he finished serving two customers, he came over to them.
“Luke, this is Judd.”
“Good to meet you,” Luke said.
Judd stood to shake his hand.
“Michael took a run to one of our suppliers, but I can take you to the geek stuff. Everything is still in boxes.” Luke came around to the front of the bar. “My brother gave up half way through. Then my son volunteered to put it together, and he could have, but I don’t like him hanging around the pub. Uncle Paddy isn’t exactly a sterling influence.”
Luke led Judd to a door to the right of the kitchen. It was a small office with a desk and several file cabinets. An ancient computer monitor took up the entire desk. Several boxes, as described, lay in various stages of unpacking.
“So tell me what the game plan is,” Judd said.
“Well, you could put it together for starters,” Samantha suggested with a grin.
“No, I mean, what do you need the system to do?”
“Billing,” Luke said.
“Can you get it to keep track of the back room events and inventory?” Samantha asked.
Judd held up a hand. “Maybe you could make a list for me? Then I’ll evaluate what software you need, and we can go from there.”
“Will do,” said Luke.
“Who does the billing now? I’ll have to determine a plan for data migration.”
“Who?” Samantha looked at Luke.
“That would be Michael and he doesn’t exactly utilize the old computer for billing. He keeps his records in here.” Luke opened a closet.
It was piled high with shoe boxes. Each box was labeled with a year and a month.
“Oh.” Judd scratched his head.
“Don’t worry. You get the system installed, and we’ll get Michael to input the data,” Samantha said.
“I can connect your home computers to this one. That way everyone can have access from home.”
“You can do that?” Samantha queried.
“Sure.”
“That’s a great idea,” she continued. “Whenever you’re ready let me know.”
How about yesterday? Judd stopped himself before he said the words.
“Why can’t Wesley get his own dates?” Samantha asked. She slid the tray of pastries onto the rack, using care with the industrial size oven. If Michael didn’t stop hounding her, she’d never finish. Missing a day of work with a cold had put her way behind schedule.
“Aw, come on, Sam. I’m crazy about her. You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.” As he spoke, he sampled the rich batter which coated the huge blades of the restaurant blender. “Besides, I’ve got a pretty serious question to ask her.”
Stunned, Samantha slapped her palms against the butcher-block counter and leaned toward her brother. “You’re going to ask Mara Bishop to marry you?”
Michael jumped. “Don’t even say that!” He shook his head. “I want her to go half with me on season tickets to the Avalanche.”
“Hockey tickets? I’m sacrificing myself for hockey tickets?” Samantha groaned. “You know, now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure I already have plans for Friday.” Surely she had something on her calendar. A lobotomy, pole-dancing classes...anything. She wiped her hands on her apron and stacked the dirty mixing bowls into the sink.
“Can’t you change your plans?”
The swinging doors into the kitchen parted. “Samantha and I have a date Friday.”
Samantha whirled around to face Judd.
“Well,” Michael drawled, with a nod of approval in Judd’s direction. “Why didn’t you say so? That’s different.”
“We do not,” Samantha mouthed behind her brother’s back.
“How come I didn’t know you two were dating?”
“We aren’t dating,” Samantha answered, scrambling for a response.
“I have an extra ticket to the jazz festival, and your sister said she’d go.”
“But it’s not a date?” Michael arched his brow.
“Nope. Just two fellow music enthusiasts sharing the love of sax.”
Michael grinned and walked out of the kitchen, whistling.
“Why did you do that?” she confronted Judd.
“Don’t you like jazz?” His lips twitched.
“Yes, but that’s not the point.”
“Mr. Chung gave me two tickets for fixing his sink. Can’t let them go to waste can I?”
“No, but—”
“Do you want to go out with Wesley?”
“No, but—”
“Great. I’ll be by at seven.” He leaned against the louvered doors with his back, pushing them apart, and then paused to look at her. “You know, you’re really going to have to start learning how to stand up for yourself.”
“Stand up for myself?” she sputtered. The buzzer to the oven went off, cutting into her protests. Samantha let out a frustrated breath of air as she reached for the timer. When she turned, he was gone.
Samantha suspected that Judd was avoiding her. It was as if he knew she needed to speak with him about Friday. He was either nowhere to be found or he was surrounded
by her family and curious patrons as he did his computer magic.
The new computer had created another phenomenon. All week long, it seemed that everyone had an opinion about the computer Judd was setting up for the pub. Suddenly, the place was brimming with self-proclaimed computer experts. To his credit, Judd listened patiently to each idea presented to him and not once did he appear bored or impatient.
On Thursday, after haggling about the evils of the internet, even Father McNally managed to solicit a promise from Judd to take a look at the computer at the parish. It was truly amazing that the man could get anything done with the entourage he’d collected. They asked questions and lauded each step of his progress. She could hardly manage to go from the back of the restaurant to the front without fighting her way around the crowds gathered outside the small office.
Today was Friday, and he not only had the computer up and running and connected to everyone’s home system, but he’d also gone shopping with Michael for a compatible scanner and copier. And a little while ago when he announced that the new software was completely installed, the patrons saluted him with applause and calls for a round of drinks.
Sure, she knew it was just another excuse for the regulars to start the Friday night Happy Hour early. But for some reason, she found herself irritated with the whole thing. After all, it was her idea for Judd to set up the pub’s computer. And what was she doing while everyone else bent their elbows to toast the reluctant hero?
Samantha slammed a sack of flour onto the counter, filling the air with fine powder. She coughed. They were cheering Judd, while she was cooking, baking, and washing dishes.
It was just a computer, for goodness sake. They could certainly function without a new one. Hello. They had been limping by with the old one for years. But they couldn’t turn a profit without good old-fashioned hard work. Raising a knife, she enthusiastically sliced off the top of the flour bag.
Michael came into the kitchen “Whoa, easy with that.” He glanced around. “You know where the new tap pump is?”
“Under the bar.”
“Sam, weren’t you going to leave early?” Michael questioned. “I thought you had a date.”
“A date?” Samantha waved the blade in the air. “Judd’s much too busy. I doubt he even remembers.”
“Naw, you’re wrong. Tommy O’Hara just challenged Judd to a game of darts, double or nothing, trying to get him to fix his laptop. Judd bowed out and went home. He said he didn’t want to be late.”
Samantha dropped the cutlery onto the counter and pushed past the doors."Don’t forget to take off your apron,” Michael called, laughing.
She only changed her clothes half a dozen times, discarding items left and right onto a pile growing on her bed. Samantha paused to assess her closet. What do you wear on a not-a-date with a man who was either a serial killer or a computer genius?
In truth, she didn’t really believe that serial killer stuff anymore. Not a man as sensitive and patient as Judd. Her mind dashed from thought to thought in illogical order. Why had he asked her out? She overanalyzed that question a hundred times. Could it really be as simple as trying to save her from herself?
Or were the glances she sometimes caught from him something more? Did he sense the underlying possibility between them?
Or was she imagining things?
Samantha rejected another blouse and threw it across the room. Darn him.
The doorbell chimed, and she grabbed the nearest blouse, tripping over her own feet on the way to the door.
Judd. In a tweedy black sweater and black slacks. Dark and handsome, he looked better than he did in jeans. Was that possible? She nervously tucked her blouse into her skirt.
He raised a brow and smiled. “Interesting look,” he said.
Samantha glanced down. Her shirt was on inside out, the skirt backwards. “I was testing you.”
“Did I pass?”
“So far. Have a seat.” She ran into the bedroom and shut the door.
Yanking off the eclectic attire, she grabbed a gray wool skirt from the closet and sent a hanger flying. Tugging the skirt on, she dug into the pile for a forest green sweater and then slipped her feet into black suede boots.
When she came into the room, Judd was at the mantle examining one of several water globes. “Where did all these come from?” he asked, his broad back still to her.
“My brother, Kevin. He was in the navy. He sent me one from each port.”
Judd gently shook the globe, a small snow-covered village, and then placed it back on the mantel. When he turned to face her, his eyes rounded. “You look beautiful.”
“Um, thank you.” She was warm with the pleasure of his words.
“Ready to go?”
She nodded and then bent to retrieve her purse and coat from the couch.
“Garfield offered to drive. He’ll meet us downstairs.”
“Garfield?”
Samantha patted down the disappointment, hiding herself for a moment behind the curtain of her hair. They were going with Mr. Chung. She sighed. What had she expected? A smile plastered on her face, she straightened. “I’m ready.”
Judd figured out something was wrong right away. He just didn’t know what. He could order coffee in six languages, but he remained clueless about people, especially women. Especially, this woman.
He did a mental backtrack. She’d gotten upset somewhere around the time he mentioned Garfield was driving. Was that it? Garfield driving?
Leaning back against the auditorium seat, he listened to the strains of the quartet on the stage. Samantha seemed all right and appeared to be enjoying herself. But Judd was still fairly certain he was in the doghouse.
For what? He removed his glasses and tried to think like a woman. His brain hurt. This date was becoming very painful.
Date. Date? Wait that was it.
He was an idiot. As the program ended, he leaned over to Garfield, sharing his predicament. Garfield held out the car keys.
“No, I can’t do that,” Judd said. “How will you get home?”
“I have friends here. Don’t worry about me. You take care of Samantha.” Chung raised his brows. “If you don’t, her brothers will take care of you.”
Point well taken. Though the solution to salvaging the evening still remained elusive. The woman expected a date, and he couldn’t afford to tick off the subject of his investigation. Besides, he liked being in Samantha’s good graces—which only reminded Judd of the bigger problem. Not only was Samantha chipping away at his defenses, but deep down inside, he wanted her to succeed.
The house lights rose, and Garfield hurried down the row.“Where’s Mr. Chung going?” Samantha asked.
“He’s meeting some friends.”
Samantha reached for her coat, and Judd took it from her. She slipped her arms into the sleeves with a demure, “Thank you.”
They followed the small crowd out to the street, where a light dusting of snow frosted the sidewalks. Judd took Samantha’s arm, and she didn’t resist. “Nice concert,” he said as they walked toward the car.
“It was. Thanks for inviting me.”
Judd braced himself and swallowed. “Would you like to, ah, maybe grab coffee? Dessert?”
Her lips curved into a smile as her gaze met his. “That would be lovely.” She nodded down the street. “There’s a little café a block down. Their lemon tarts are almost as good as mine.”
“Almost?”
“I have the McBride family recipe. Handed down three generations.”
She stopped, and Judd was yanked back to where she stood.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
She slipped her arm from his and moved to the window of a small boutique. “Look,” Samantha murmured.
The shop’s window display was decorated in silver and white for the holidays. Silver tree branches held dangling three-dimensional flakes of snow that danced at intervals. Center stage was a snow globe filled with a marble angel. Seated amidst more snow, the a
ngel stared in contemplation as snowflakes swirled gently around the globe’s interior.
“How did they make the snow move in the window and in the globe?” she whispered. Her attention never left the window.
“The motion? Computerized. Probably Arduino hardware to shake the globe and create a breeze in response to movement outside the window. Pretty cool effect.”
Samantha nodded.
Judd stepped closer to the window to examine the display. When he turned his head, his face was inches away from Samantha’s. She stared at him, a small smile on her face.
When he reached out to gently tuck a strand of amber hair behind her ear, Samantha’s hand covered his. For moments they stood—her hand upon his as he cupped her face in his palm.
Without thinking, Judd dipped his head until his mouth skimmed her cool, soft lips. It was Samantha who crept closer, deepening the kiss, her other hand slipping beneath his jacket to rest against his heart. The chill of the evening disappeared as her warmth, mixed with wonder, and want wrapped itself around him.
Maybe Paddy was right. He was lost and didn’t know it, because this moment was as if he’d come home.
5
Judd paced in front of the building, hands thrust in the pockets of his jeans. That kiss Friday had obviously scrambled his brains. They’d had coffee and a lemon tart. At least he thought they did. Everything after the kiss was sort of hazy.
He paused to review the facts. He’d walked Samantha to her door, and they’d stood awkwardly ignoring the elephant in the hall. That amazing kiss.
Then she’d invited him to dinner.
What else could he say but yes? Note to self: never make promises when you’re under the influence of Samantha’s kiss.
She’d blindsided him, and now he ached with a nameless need. A need only Samantha could fill.
Before Charlie sent him here, he didn’t have any needs. At least none that a good strong cup of coffee wouldn’t satisfy. Things were deteriorating rapidly. He was going nowhere with the investigation and going places he didn’t want to go with one redheaded, freckle-faced temptress.
Why had he agreed to dinner with all of them? What was he? Crazy? One McBride was hazardous enough.
The Christmas Angel (The McBride Series Book 1) Page 5