There went her pulse again, skyrocketing.
“Have I told you how much I like your pink bunny slippers?” he asked softly. “They’re very…you.”
She wished her heart would stop fluttering like a captured bird. “That doesn’t sound like much of a compliment,” she whispered, fighting that infernal blush.
“Well, it is.” He touched her cheek with his fingertips.
Her throat was as parched as if she’d walked in the desert for a week straight.
Grandpa Roger’s voice intruded on the moment. “Can a third party join you? Or would I be in the way?”
Of course. Joe had said those things for her grandfather’s benefit. Not hers. Why couldn’t she seem to remember that?
Joe pulled back his hand. “Come on in, sir. Alicia’s fixing breakfast.”
“Wasn’t what it looked like from here,” her grandfather said, grinning at them like the Cheshire cat.
“How would you like your Egg Beaters, Grandpa?”
“Scrambled is fine.”
“Joe? Eggs over medium?”
“No, you can scramble mine, too.” He walked over to a drawer at the far end of the counter, opened it and moved some items around. “Where’s the Phillips screwdriver, Alicia?”
“Something broken?” Grandpa Roger asked.
Not yet, but I’m afraid my heart’s about to be.
The ski resort was packed on this first Saturday after Thanksgiving. Snow had come early to these westernmost slopes of the Rockies, and the skiers were out in full force.
While waiting in line at the lift, Joe heard someone say it was the best opening in years. He looked forward to getting to the top of the mountain so he could experience it for himself. He needed something to clear his head. He hadn’t been thinking like himself. Not since the day he’d met Alicia in that coffee shop.
He was almost starting to feel as though they were a family, he and Alicia and her grandfather.
A family. What did he know about being part of a family? An Ozzie and Harriet kind of family, that is. Dysfunctional he had no problem understanding.
As the lift swung around and picked him up, he muttered a few choice words beneath his breath. He was feeling too much and working too little. That’s all that was wrong with him. Come Monday, he had to make serious changes in his routine. It was up to Alicia to entertain her grandfather during his visit. Let her take some time off work. She was the boss, Christmas season or not. She could jolly well spend time with the old man. Joe wasn’t going to do it anymore.
A short while later, he skied off the lift. When he was out of the way of other disembarking skiers, he stopped to adjust his goggles and check his equipment, then he attacked the mountain with a vengeance, hoping to work off the last of his—
The last of his what?
Frustrations?
Irrational expectations?
Attraction to Alicia?
Whatever it was, he wasn’t successful. Thoughts of Alicia and her grandfather went down the slopes with him. At the bottom he whooshed to a stop, pushed the goggles up onto his forehead and glared back in the direction he’d come, feeling out of sorts with the world.
A child began to wail, drawing his gaze toward the bunny hill. There they were, a group of mogul monsters, taking their ski class. The kid who was crying was probably no more than five years old. Maybe six. While Joe watched, a man strode onto the scene and knelt in the snow in front of the boy. His dad, apparently. The man talked to the kid, dried his tears, smiled reassuringly, and in what seemed no time at all, the boy was back with his class, grinning from ear to ear. The man looked on with parental pride.
Would I make a good dad?
The question nearly knocked him off his skis. There was no way that he wanted to have kids. Not a chance. Never.
He envisioned Alicia, her hands resting on her enlarged stomach, looking feminine, tender, beautiful.
Oh, no. It wasn’t going to happen. No way!
He needed another run at the mountain. Maybe another dozen runs.
“You really like your new laptop, don’t you, Grandpa?” Alicia looked over her grandfather’s shoulder at the screen.
“I sure do. I’ve always used one of the retirement center’s computers. They’re old and clunky in comparison to this laptop. The clunky ones don’t make me want to stay on very long.”
“High-speed Internet connection makes a difference, too. Do they have that in the center?”
“Yes, but yours seems faster.” He turned his chair around. “Hope that husband of yours is having a good time.”
That husband of mine…
“I like him, Alicia. I think you found yourself a fine man. I just wish I’d been at the wedding.”
“Me, too,” she answered softly while returning her gaze to the screen. “What are you looking up now?”
“Believe it or not, I’ve already managed to connect with two friends of mine from the ministry. Men I haven’t talked to in years. We were in school together a lifetime ago.”
“That’s wonderful, Grandpa. If you know where to look, you can find just about anything you want on the Internet, I guess.”
“Mmm.” Her grandfather shook his head, and his voice was grim. “Both good and evil, I’m afraid.” He twisted on his chair, then laid a hand on Alicia’s stomach. “You protect this little one, my girl. The world is full of traps.”
She smiled, but her vision was blurred. “I will, Grandpa. I promise. I’ll always take good care of Humphrey.”
“Humphrey?” He chuckled as he patted her belly. “I hope you have a better name in mind for my first great-grandchild than Humphrey Palermo.”
Palermo? Her heart did another one of those silly little flutters as she pictured Joe holding a tiny baby in his arms.
“So?” Grandpa Roger prompted.
She pulled herself back to the present. “I’m sorry. What were you asking?”
“What names have you chosen for the baby?”
“I’m not…we’re not sure yet. We’ve still got time, so there hasn’t been any rush to decide.”
“No favorites at all?”
She shrugged. “I rather like Alexander for a boy and Jennifer for a girl.”
“And what about Joe?”
She couldn’t tell her grandfather she’d never asked her husband’s opinion about baby names. So she told another lie: “He can’t decide.” She shrugged a second time. “You know how some men are. He says he’s leaving it up to me to choose.”
Her grandfather continued to look at her without saying a word, his gaze thoughtful.
“You know,” she said taking a step backward, “I think I’d better call the shop and see how the day is going.”
With that, she turned and beat a hasty retreat to the kitchen where she picked up the telephone handset and held it to her ear.
For months she’d tested first names with her last name. Alexander Harris or Jennifer Harris. She’d liked the sound of those two the best.
But how would they sound with Palermo?
She pictured Joe again, holding a baby, smiling, crooning softly.
Alexander Palermo…
Jennifer Palermo…
“I’ve got to stop this.” She hung up the phone without dialing. “It could never happen. It couldn’t happen in a million years.”
“What couldn’t happen?” she heard Joe ask.
Her heart fluttered as she turned toward the door to the utility room. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“That’s because you were talking to yourself.” He smiled, then asked again, “What couldn’t happen?”
She shook her head. “Oh, just something from work. Nothing important.”
Lying was getting to be a way of life, it seemed. Lying to her grandfather. Lying to Joe. Lying to herself. Why had she allowed lies to take over her life? She’d always been an honest person.
She drew a breath and asked, “How was the skiing?”
In his stocking feet, Joe steppe
d into the kitchen, closing the utility-room door behind him. “Beautiful. You should’ve been there.”
She wouldn’t have thought it possible, but he appeared even more handsome than usual in his silver-gray ski pants and white turtleneck sweater. His cheeks were ruddy from the cold, and his spiky black hair looked damp. She was sorely tempted to run her fingers through it, try to restore it to order.
Instead she turned her back toward him. “It sounds like you had a good time.”
“Yeah. And I plan to go up again soon.”
“You should. It’s why you moved back to Idaho, after all.” Her heart hurt, making it difficult to speak.
“Alicia?”
She heard the soft fall of his stocking feet as he crossed the kitchen.
“Come Monday I’ve got to spend more time talking to local law firms.” He lowered his voice to just above a whisper. “And I should find an apartment, put down a deposit to hold it. I’ll need to be ready to move come the first of the year.”
She nodded, still without looking at him.
“It’ll be here before we know it.”
“Time flies,” she answered.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him lean his backside against the kitchen counter and cross his arms over his chest. “Where’s your grandfather?”
“On his laptop.” She had to meet his gaze now. “You created a monster.”
Joe grinned.
It took her breath away.
She was falling for Joe Palermo. Falling fast and hard.
Big mistake. That’s what had happened with Grant. She’d fallen fast and hard for him, and look where it got her. Divorced, pregnant and lying to her grandfather.
Joe watched the confusion swirling in her eyes and wondered what was going on behind them. He wished he could say something that would make her laugh, something that would make her eyes sparkle again.
But he knew better than that. He’d spent the day on the mountain trying to drive her from his thoughts. He’d almost succeeded.
Almost.
He cleared his throat as he stepped away from her, putting some distance between him and temptation. “I think I’ll take a shower.”
On his way through the living room, he paused long enough to greet Grandpa Roger, then headed for the bathroom. A short while later he stood beneath a hot spray of water, leaning his forehead against the glass door of the shower stall.
“I’m losing it.”
Joe had never been and never would be some knight in shining armor riding in to rescue the damsel in distress. He was the dragon about to roast said damsel with flames from his nostrils. Like his father before him, he was an aggressive Type A personality, a driven, self-motivated, self-obsessed kind of guy.
Not that God hadn’t been working on him in those areas. He recognized that being self-obsessed wasn’t an admirable trait. He even thought there’d been some headway made.
Still, a workaholic wasn’t great husband or father material. If he cared for a woman, the least he could do was not allow her to think he might fill the spousal bill.
Temporary insanity was the only explanation for him being in this house, playing this role, and the sooner he got out of here, the better off he would be. Maybe he should try to convince Alicia to come clean to the old man. In lieu of that, he meant to bury himself in his work until he was rid of all these crazy thoughts.
Joe finished his shower, then donned a black T-shirt and a pair of Levi’s. While in Alicia’s bedroom, he decided to look once more for his missing driving glove. He knelt on the floor to look under the dresser when he heard the telltale growl of the enemy. He turned to see Rosie, crouched not far from his bare feet, her tail flicking from side to side. He scooted on his knees into the corner. Rosie released another of those feline, throaty growls, the kind that made his blood run cold.
He was trapped. Trapped by an enemy that couldn’t weigh even ten pounds, but trapped all the same. He stood there, pondering his options.
There weren’t many. In fact, as far as he could tell, there was only one.
He closed his eyes, clenched his jaw and breathed in deeply through his nose. “Alicia!”
He opened his eyes and looked at Rosie. He would have sworn she grinned, even while she threatened him with another throaty growl.
“Alicia!”
This had to be the single most humiliating moment of his life.
“Alicia, come here!”
“Joe?” The bedroom door opened, and Alicia stepped inside. “What is it?”
He glared at her, not feeling the need to explain.
When she figured it out, she tried not to smile but lost the battle. At least she didn’t laugh out loud.
Thanks for nothing.
“I’m sorry, Joe.” She hurried across the room and lifted the cat into her arms. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her. She really is a sweet-natured cat.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Bad, kitty,” she whispered.
Well, he could chalk up one more reason he should play his part and then get out of here. He and this cat were definitely not suitable as roommates.
Alicia couldn’t help grinning every time she thought of Joe—tall and strong man that he was—cornered by little Rosie. She’d learned in the past week that he had a fun sense of humor, but not when it came to her cat. And maybe the dog, too.
When they sat down for supper that evening, she could tell he was still a bit irritated, although he tried to hide it. It surprised her that she could read his mood so easily.
“I made some interesting discoveries while you were out today.” Grandpa Roger spooned mashed potatoes onto his plate. “If you have time this evening, I do have a few questions I’d like to ask you.”
“Sure. Be glad to.” Joe’s tone belied the genial nature of his words.
Grandpa Roger raised an eyebrow in Alicia’s direction.
She gave him a slight shake of her head, as if to say: Don’t ask.
He nodded, then said, “Joe, Alicia tells me you two haven’t agreed on a name for the baby yet.”
Joe’s gaze lifted from the serving bowl of green beans that he held in his hand.
She smiled, not knowing what else to do or say.
“Naming your baby is an important decision,” her grandfather continued. “The father should definitely participate.”
Alicia wasn’t feeling quite as amused as she’d been before.
“I remember when Alicia’s grandmother was pregnant with Justin. Teresa and I spent hours poring over lists of names. It was a special time for the two of us. Drew us even closer together than we’d been before.”
She looked down at her plate. Her appetite had vanished along with her laughter.
“I’d only been home from my stint in the army a couple of months when Teresa discovered she was expecting. After the things I saw in Korea, her pregnancy seemed to be God’s reaffirmation of life and goodness. Those months were a joyous time for us both.” Grandpa Roger was silent a moment, then added, “But I don’t have to tell you two that.”
“No, sir.”
A lump formed in Alicia’s throat, her amusement over Joe and Rosie replaced by sadness over the things she would miss as a single parent. She wouldn’t spend time going over lists of names with a husband. She wouldn’t look back when she was the age of her grandfather and remember the joy of experiencing her pregnancy with the most important person in her life. Even if she married again one day, she wouldn’t have the memories from now.
And it hurt. Hurt more than she wanted to admit.
“’Course, we hoped Alicia’s father would be the first of several children, but that wasn’t to be. Teresa was never able to carry another baby to term.” Grandpa Roger took a few sips of water. “I hope you’ll be blessed with a full quiver.”
“Sir?”
“From Psalms. ‘Like arrows in the hand of a warrior, so are the children of one’s youth. How blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them.’”
Her grandfather continued, warming to his subject. “There’s a special glow about a woman who’s with child. A special beauty. When my wife was expecting, I used to sit in a chair in the living room, right out there, and watch her as she did her sewing or knitting or whatever other busywork she did in the evenings. All I could think was how beautiful she was. Just like Alicia is now.”
She glanced at her grandfather. “I’m far from beautiful.”
He chuckled as he shook his head. “You’re wrong, my dear. Ask your husband if you don’t believe me.”
It took everything within her not to burst into tears. Sadness did not begin to define the ache she felt in her chest. She would love to look at Joe and have him tell her she was beautiful, and he probably would. After all, he had a role to play in this charade. But he wouldn’t mean it.
From somewhere deep within, she garnered the strength to smile at Grandpa Roger. “Those who love me might think me beautiful, but I feel more like the proverbial bull in a china shop.” She slid her chair back from the table. “One that needs to be excused for a minute.” She hurried from the kitchen, escaping to the sanctuary of her bedroom.
Ask your husband, her grandfather had said.
She moved to stand in front of the full-length mirror. She smoothed her maternity top over her stomach, and then turned sideways for a second look.
Perhaps a husband would think her beautiful. But not Joe, not the man who had found his way into her heart before she’d known what was happening.
Chapter Eight
Early on Sunday morning, Joe realized that he and Alicia hadn’t discussed the matter of church attendance. Wouldn’t her Christian friends notice if she suddenly produced a husband? It wouldn’t serve her purposes if they said something in front of her grandfather. But as it turned out, he was worried for nothing. Alicia didn’t have a church home.
“I didn’t attend for a number of years,” she said over the monitor when he asked her about it. “I’m not sure how that happened. My family was always in church when I was a kid. Sunday mornings. Wednesday nights.”
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