50 Harbor Street
Page 19

“You brought that for me?” The answer was obvious and Linnette felt even more uncomfortable. Silently she vowed she’d make sure he understood this was their last date. It was the right thing to do.
“For you.” His gaze moved past her to Gloria, who stepped out of the other room.
“Cal, this is my friend and neighbor Gloria.” As she spoke, she set the plant on her coffee table, where it provided a festive touch.
Gloria came forward with her hand extended. “Hello, Cal, I’ve been hearing a lot about you.”
Cal’s gaze shot to Linnette, and he seemed both pleased and surprised. “My p-pleas-sure,” he said, shaking hands.
“I’ll check in with you after the weekend,” Gloria said as she moved past Cal on her way out the door. “Have fun, you two.”
“I’ll just grab my coat and gloves,” Linnette said and momentarily left him. She opened the hall closet to retrieve what she needed, and for good measure, added a wool scarf. When she’d agreed to go out with Cal, they hadn’t decided what to do. She’d suggested a movie. That sounded less demanding than attempting to carry on a conversation over dinner. Because she wasn’t all that interested, she hadn’t bothered to look at the movie listings.
When she returned, Cal’s appreciative smile warmed her. He took her coat and as he held it, she slid her arms into the sleeves, almost wishing he didn’t possess such impeccable manners. Not looking at him, she buttoned her coat, wrapped the scarf around her neck and put on her gloves. They left the apartment and she locked the door, testing the doorknob—just like her father always did.
“Did you decide which movie you want to see?” she asked as they started down the staircase. The wind chilled her face immediately and it seemed about to snow.
He shook his head. “Did you?”
“Oh, I didn’t really look. Should I go back to the apartment and get the paper?”
He shook his head again. “H-hungry?” he asked.
“Not very. I had a late lunch.”
They continued walking, and Linnette had to admit that Cal was an attractive man. She liked the way his Stetson shaded his face, giving him a mysterious look. He wore a sheepskin coat and leather gloves, and he reminded her of a young Clint Eastwood, back in his spaghetti western days.
“Let’s…j-just walk,” he suggested.
“Okay, if that’s what you want.”
Cal tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow and they ambled down Harbor Street. Linnette thought the traffic—both vehicle and foot traffic—was particularly heavy for a Saturday night, but didn’t comment. Several other observations occurred to her, but she resisted mentioning them, fearing Cal would feel obliged to respond. Conversation often seemed awkward for him. After a few minutes, she came to enjoy the companionable silence.
Then suddenly it was impossible to remain silent. “It’s snowing!” she cried when a fat, moist snowflake fell on her nose, surprising her. “Cal, look! It’s actually snowing.”
He laughed at her obvious delight. “I see.”
“We never get snow….” In the light of the street lamps, Linnette saw his face break into a broad smile. “I mean, we get snow, but it’s so rare, especially this close to the waterfront.”
“Christmas,” he added.
“Oh, I agree. It’s absolutely perfect that it’s December and Christmas is only about two weeks away.”
They followed the sidewalk past the waterfront park and the marina and rounded the curve toward the clinic and City Hall. By that time, the snow was coming down fast and furious.
Fascinated as she was by the snow, Linnette didn’t immediately notice that all the traffic was going in the same direction they were. Everyone, it seemed, was headed toward a group of carolers who lined the steps of the City Hall building. They were dressed in Victorian costume for a Dickensian Christmas, their songbooks held open. They began with “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen” and followed that with “Deck the Halls.”
Caught up in the sheer wonder and joy of the season, Linnette could only listen raptly. She counted three- or possibly four-part harmony. The performance was lovely in every way. The carolers in their costumes, the large decorated tree, the snow—it was about as idyllic a Christmas scene as Linnette could have imagined.
She watched the performance with Cal standing behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders, and she realized his body was blocking the wind. Once again she wished he wasn’t so thoughtful.
Afterward, when the carolers had finished, and the Christmas tree was lit to an enthusiastic burst of applause, Cal suggested a cup of hot cocoa at the Potbelly Deli. Chilled to the bone, Linnette readily agreed. They were fortunate to find a table by the big potbellied stove in the middle of the restaurant. The heat radiating from it soon warmed her. She recognized several people and they exchanged smiles.
The hot chocolate was delicious and served with a candy cane, in honor of the season. She and Cal shared a plate of shortbread cookies cut in Christmas shapes—trees and bells and snowmen. Then Linnette bundled herself up again and they walked toward her apartment. Once more, Cal tucked her arm in his elbow. This was the time to tell him it was over, but she couldn’t make herself do it, knowing her announcement would destroy the festive mood.
“That was just wonderful,” she said, her steps easily keeping pace with his.
“Yes,” he murmured.
“So Christmassy.” She hadn’t felt much Christmas spirit yet. She blamed Chad for her lack of holiday cheer; she’d assumed that once they were working at the same place, they’d be spending a lot of time together. But that hadn’t turned out to be true; they saw each other only in passing and hardly ever had a chance to talk. She wondered darkly if he’d planned it that way.
As they neared her apartment complex, Linnette tried to decide whether it would be a good idea to invite Cal inside. Not to offer might be rude. On the other hand, if he accepted, he might want to kiss her and she couldn’t let that happen.
As she knew he would, Cal walked up the stairs with her. When she removed the keys from the outside pocket of her purse, he took them from her hands and unlocked her front door—another old-fashioned courtesy.
She found herself blurting out a rather awkward invitation. “Would you like to come inside? Inside my apartment, I mean…for a few minutes?” She knew she’d suffer a sleepless night if she didn’t tell him. It was completely unfair to lead him on.
Linnette stepped into the apartment and was greeted by a blast of warm air as the furnace kicked in. “Oh!” she said, pointing toward the window that overlooked the marina. With the snow drifting down, the scene could’ve been an illustration on a Christmas card. A number of the boats were gaily decorated with colorful lights strung on their masts. They bobbed almost rhythmically on the water, their lights reflected by its dark surface.
Cal stopped her when she moved to flick on a lamp. “Keep them off,” he said—again with no sign of a stutter.
Oh, boy. Here it was. Just as she’d feared, he was going to kiss her. He turned her in his embrace and slipped one arm around her waist and the other over her shoulder. As he bent forward, there was ample opportunity to stop him. But she didn’t. Why, Linnette could only speculate. Curiosity, she supposed.
Without even a whimper of protest, she tilted her face toward his, closed her eyes and waited. She wasn’t disappointed. His mouth was firm and moist and surprisingly smooth. That was what shook her most. Because Cal was a man’s man. A horse trainer. Before she was even aware of it, he’d coaxed her lips open. From that point on, the kiss quickly heated up. Everything did.
A few minutes earlier, they’d been standing in the cold and snow. Now heat suffused her until it was all she could do to breathe. Gripping his coat, she welcomed the exploration of his tongue, meeting his with her own, shyly at first and them more boldly.
By the time Cal broke off the kiss, Linnette felt on the verge of collapse. They edged away from each other as though they were both in shock.
Linnette staggered into the kitchen and placed her hand on the kitchen counter in an effort to regain her balance. Long before she was ready, Cal was standing behind her, touching her shoulder.
“No,” she insisted, horrified that the word sounded more like a croak.
“No?” he asked.
She turned, unsure how to handle this. Sliding her arms around his waist, she exhaled a long, drawn-out breath. Unable to resist, she kissed the underside of his jaw.
He purred as softly as a kitten. “Nice.”
“Too nice. This isn’t right.”
His eyes narrowed. “Sooner than you w-want?”
“That isn’t it,” she whispered, and because she was embarrassed and more than a little confused, she buried her face in his chest. “I think very highly of you.”
“Hmm…” He nuzzled her neck. “Me, too.”
Shivers of desire shot down her spine as his lips explored the sensitive skin of her throat. She had to say something, and fast. “It would be wrong to let this go on.”
“Wrong?” He lifted his head and looked directly into her eyes. “No.” As if to prove her incorrect, he slowly lowered his mouth to hers again. This kiss was as devastating as the first. More so. She felt herself weaken.
“Cal, please,” she managed when she found her voice. “There’s someone else I’m interested in.”
He froze and instantly released her.
Linnette lurched backward. “I’m sorry. I’ve known Chad Timmons for some time and well, I accepted this date to make him jealous. That was wrong. I apologize.”
He stepped away from her as though in a daze. Because of his Stetson she couldn’t see his eyes. She didn’t need to. She felt his disappointment, his frustration—his pain.
“I feel dreadful.” She shouldn’t have told him about Chad. It was too hurtful, too cruel. “Will you forgive me?”
Without a word, he turned and strode out of the kitchen.
“I’m so sorry,” she said again. But his only response was the slamming of her door.
Cal was gone. So much for letting him down gently, for not wanting to mislead him. If Linnette had been feeling sick earlier, it was nothing compared to the knot in her stomach now.
Twenty
Charlotte wasn’t sure she was doing the right thing, but she wanted Ben’s children to accept her—and to like her. She also wanted to reassure them that she had no intention of replacing their mother, and to convey to David and his older brother, Steven, whom she had yet to meet, how much she loved their father.
David had called her two days earlier, on Monday afternoon. That was when Ben had his monthly get-together with other Navy retirees, so he’d been out of the house. It was one of the rare times they were apart. Charlotte had been baking sugar cookies for the Convalescent Center when David called. He was in Seattle on business again, and had invited her to lunch on Wednesday. But just her—he’d made that clear. He’d asked her not to let Ben know about it. In spite of her natural honesty, she’d agreed.