A contemplative expression came over his face. “That’s not how I remember it.”
“Yeah, well, you’re like my big brother, too.”
He paused with his glass halfway to his mouth. “Is that how you see me?”
She didn’t know how to answer. Yes would be the safest way to go. But it was also a lie. So she did what she could to avoid a direct reply. “I mean, you’ve never looked at me very critically.”
“I can tell when someone’s attractive, Chey.”
Her mouth went dry. “Of course you can. T-take Eve, for instance. She’s beautiful, don’t you think?”
His eyes never left her face. “Why are we talking about Eve again?”
“She’s my best friend.”
“I know. And she likes me. I get that.” He changed the subject as he glanced away. “Do you have any playing cards?”
She had several packs. Before her mother had gotten too sick to manage a game, they’d often played hearts to distract her from the pain. “In the drawer.”
“Any chance I could challenge you to a game?”
“Which one?”
“Poker?” he suggested with a shrug.
How long did he plan to stay? “Sure. But…what will we bet?”
“I’ll wager dollars toward oil changes and car repairs. Considering what I found when you brought your Olds in last time, it could use some work.”
“It could. But what will I wager? I help run a B and B, so…cooking and cleaning?”
His smile shifted to one side. “I’ll settle for some Christmas cookies and tree decorating the next time my girls are in town.”
“Why settle? You could have cooking, cleaning and decorating.” She smacked the cards on the table. “If you win.”
“I plan on winning,” he confided. “But that would still be settling, since it isn’t what I’d ask for if I could have anything.”
This took Cheyenne by surprise. “What would you ask for?”
He glanced at the sprig of mistletoe Presley had tied to the light fixture over the table. “Peace on earth,” he said with a wink. “So deal.”
7
He was flirting with her. There was no question about that. Cheyenne just didn’t know why. Was he trying to cheer her up? Was he interested in becoming closer friends? Had he stopped by because he’d told his sister that she’d started crying in the grocery store and Gail had asked him to?
He didn’t reveal what he was thinking or feeling, but they talked and laughed and laughed and talked until it grew late. By the time he yawned and said he should go, Cheyenne had lost a lot in tree decorating and cookies, and he wasn’t willing to let her attempt to win it back. All she could do was claim that one day of her baking and tree trimming services was worth an eight-hundred-dollar credit.
“You must be one hell of a Christmas decorator,” he said.
“I am.” She waved toward her only example. “Don’t let that fool you.”
“I’ll suspend my disbelief, for now. You can prove yourself next Saturday.”
“That’s when your girls are coming?”
“That’s when. But we should pick up the tree tomorrow, before all the good ones are gone.”
“We?” She corked the wine bottle since he’d declined a refill.
“I don’t want to buy something you wouldn’t be interested in decorating.”
Eve would, no doubt, find this arrangement odd if she heard about it. That made Cheyenne hesitate. As much as she wanted to spend time with Joe, she had no business doing it. “I’m easy to please.”
“Then why don’t you ever date?”
She shuffled the cards. “Nice segue.”
“I thought so.”
“How do you know I don’t?”
“We live in Whiskey Creek, remember? If you were seeing someone, I’d know about it. Everyone would.”
That was true. So she began searching for excuses. “I’ve been too preoccupied.”
“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?”
She tried not to laugh. “I was seeing John Kovinski there for a little bit.”
“Not Mr. Kovinski, the school principal…”
“’Fraid so.”
“When was this?”
She pretended she had to think about it, although the answer was on the tip of her tongue. She didn’t see any point in letting him know that she marked the events in her life by how they corresponded to his. “While you were married.” She forced herself to throw in, “I think,” even though she was as positive as she could get.
“That was five years ago!”
“I don’t get out much.”
“Not to mention he’s like…twice your age,” he added with a grimace. “Gail once dated a much older man, too. What’s the appeal?”
“Safety. Security. Companionship.”
“So no threat.”
She chuckled. “Maybe.”
“I must’ve missed the news that you were seeing him.”
Because the relationship hadn’t gone anywhere. They’d dated three times, and made out once. That wasn’t much for even the nosiest people in Whiskey Creek to gossip about.
Joe finished the last of the wine in his glass. “Who else have you dated?”
She put the cards back in the box. “I’ve been preoccupied, like I said. Who have you dated, Mr. DeMarco?”
“Too many girls to count,” he teased.
“Who’s there?” Her mother’s voice, cracked and pleading, came out of the bedroom. “I need my meds! Cheyenne? Presley? Bring me my morphine! Hurry!”
Joe jumped to his feet as if this sudden intrusion into their conversation had startled him. “She okay?”
The distress in her voice could be more than a little unnerving, especially for someone who wasn’t used to it. “Yeah. Don’t worry.”
“Is there anything I can help you do for her?”
“No, I’ve got it.” She took her mother’s painkiller from where she’d hidden it behind the refrigerator.
“That’s where you keep it?” he asked with a perplexed expression.
Because of Presley. But she didn’t want to go into that. “For the moment.”
“Okay.” He didn’t question her further. “I’ll put out the fire while you tend to her.”
She’d expected him to leave. She could only imagine how uncomfortable he felt now that Anita was awake. But her mother was so impatient she had to postpone their goodbye and he seemed willing to wait. “Calm down, Mom, I’m coming!” she called, grabbing a bottle of water in case Anita was thirsty.