Project Love (Cascade Brides Series) (22 page)

“
Is that from a word-of-the-day calendar or
something?”

He laughed. “Maybe. But it's still true. If you're
enthusiastic about something, then it's practically contagious.”

“
You make it sound so...viral.”

He laughed again. “Exactly. So go get enthusiastic
with the customers.”

She sighed and threw the rag into the wash bucket.
“Fine.”

“
Uh oh. You on the outs with Tabor again?”

Charity sent him a dark look. “You sound like my
roommate.”

“
Well?”

“
Like you said, your business is sales. My boyfriend
is mine.”

“
Sounds like you're 'on' then.”

She rolled her eyes and edged past him. It was time to
unlock the doors for the day.

***

Deciding to take matters into her own hands, Charity
brought a batch of scones to work the following morning. Once Jessie
tasted one, he intercepted the driver of the bakery truck when he
stopped by on his rounds.

Mike tasted one too,
dripping with butter and jam, and agreed to take a few back to the
bakery to see if they could come up with something similar. Charity
sent a Zip-Loc bagful with him, feeling like she'd accomplished
something
in her
disjointed life.

By the end of the day, she was certain of one thing—she
wasn't coming down with a cold. Her headache was gone and she felt
fine—physically anyway. Plus her tip jar take had been respectable.
Jessie had nothing to complain about.

But now she had to go check her phone. What if Daniel
had located her sisters and talked them into calling? No, he wouldn't
sink that low. Except he probably wouldn't think it was exactly low.
But he still wouldn't do it. So that was something.

Peeling off her apron, she went to the break-room and
opened her locker. When she dug in her purse and opened her phone she
found a message from Daniel.

Thinking about you
.

She smiled, amazed how a simple text could go straight
to her heart. It was especially nice as he hadn't been in during the
day. Things must still be bad at work.

Charity decided to stop by his firm with a cup of
coffee. He might already have left for day, but since it was just two
blocks away, it wouldn't be a big deal either way.

She opened the double doors a crack. “Hey, Amy, will
you grab me a large black coffee, pretty please?”

The blonde nodded and filled a cup. Charity handed her a
couple of bucks and took the coffee, eager to be on her way.

Outside, the wind and
rain nearly knocked her against the building. She huddled into her
jacket and hurried along the street, wondering if she should've just
gone home. Brightly colored leaves flew past as rain buffeted her in
sheets.
This is what love does to a person—makes 'em do
crazy things like trudge through a raging windstorm
.

As she dodged a puddle
at the curb, she realized what had just gone through her mind.
Charity stopped in front of a bookstore, breathing hard.
I
love him
. Seeking the lee of the
building, she tried to take in that truth. Attraction she could
handle. Flirting could be fun. Getting to know someone over a
long-term basis was uncomfortable.

But
love
.
Charity held tight to the coffee with both hands.
I've
never done that before
. She had
a fresh impulse to head home. Maybe she could take a hot bath and
hope the whole thing blew over—like a bad cold.

But the need to see Daniel gripped her in its intensity.
It was the need that shook her. She had never wanted to need anyone
or anything.

God, help me make sense of this. I'm so terrified
.
The chill wind had a bracing effect as she took a deep breath. And
somehow amidst the swirling leaves and occasional stray newspapers,
she felt a strange certainty take hold within her.
I want
to see Daniel
.
More
than anything
.

Preparing herself for the wind, she pulled in another
breath and turned the corner. Charity was almost driven back to the
side of the building, but she soldiered on. It was only half a block
to Daniel's building now. When she arrived at Applied Innovations,
she was shocked to see crime tape whipping in the wind, blocking off
a section of sidewalk, and a couple of cops talking to people on the
street. A police cruiser was parked half on the sidewalk, its lights
flashing with a silent warning. What in the world had happened here?
Wasn't the protest planned for the weekend?

Panic mushroomed through her as she headed for the main
doors. A policeman stopped her and asked her for ID and an
explanation of why she needed to be in the building. After giving him
both, she was allowed past the doors. Beyond the front reception
desk, topped in black marble, was a glassed-in room. Inside Daniel
stood with a reporter and cameraman. Not cops. A breath whooshed out
of her.

“
Can I help you, miss?”

Charity turned to the receptionist at the desk. “Um,
I'm just waiting for Mr. Tabor.”

“
He's quite busy just now. Shall I let him know you
stopped by?”

Her dismissive manner reminded Charity of her
high-handed sisters. “I'll wait here, thanks.” Her tone brooked
no argument and the woman sent her a thin-lipped courtesy smile,
going back to whatever she was working on behind the desk.

Charity pulled off her knit cap and tried to smooth her
tangled hair. When she looked toward the glass room, she realized
Daniel was staring at her. A corner of his mouth lifted slightly. The
reporter looked over his shoulder at her and frowned.

Charity backed up toward the chairs and sat down, not
wanting to interrupt the interview. Daniel turned his attention back
to the reporter. Even though she couldn't hear a word of what they
were saying, his expression told her the conversation was not
pleasant.

Twenty minutes later all three men exited the room. The
reporter sent her a long cursory look as he passed as if trying to
figure out just who she was and what she had to do with Daniel Tabor.
Charity offered him a smirk in return.

Once they had left the building, Daniel approached her
with an impassive, yet shaken, expression. “I've got a few minutes
for you,” he said politely. “Let's go to my office.”

Charity was unprepared for such formal treatment, but
she followed his long strides down the hall. He opened a random door
and waved her in. Setting the coffee cup on the corner of the desk,
she turned to him to ask the reason for his behavior.

But she didn't get that far. Before Charity could speak,
she was in his arms. She responded with alacrity, reveling in his
touch in light of her heart's revelation.

Finally Daniel came up for air and released his hold on
her. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you,” he breathed.

Charity's lips tipped in a silly grin. “Actually I
might.”

He pawed a hand through his hair, his smile rueful.
“Yeah, I can see why you might think that.”

“
So what happened? Why are there police outside?”

Releasing a heavy sigh, he said, “There was a
demonstration by some group that wants to stop the building of the
water treatment plant. When the police intervened, it got violent.
Someone smashed one of the side windows—”

“
Oh! I didn't notice that. I was too distracted by the
cops.”

He shook his head, clearly disgusted. “It's all so
stupid. The demonstrators weren't interested in actual facts. They
wanted to 'raise awareness' of the injustice of trying to provide
clean water to the city because some trees will be cut down.”

“
I saw a poster about it, but I didn't notice the
actual date. Sorry.”

“
It's not your fault. And the good news is my boss is
furious about how it all went down and now he's threatening to sue
the city if they can't stop the protesters.”

“
That's good news?” she asked quizzically.

He grinned. “I was getting to that part. My boss is
pulling me off PR duty. He's directing all questions to our legal
department and I get to go back to being a plain ol' engineer.”

“
What about your Facebook fans? Won't they be
disappointed not seeing you on the news anymore?”

“
You're the only fan I need.”

She let that notion sink in for a moment. “I brought
you some coffee.”

Daniel tucked a lock of hair behind her shoulder. “Thank
you.” He shook his head. “Sorry about the way I acted out in the
lobby. I didn't want them to know you're my girlfriend.”

She blinked. “Oh.”

“
This reporter is apparently new and I found out he's
trying to make a career move with an expos
é
on my company. He's looking for ways to cause trouble, hence that
ridiculous piece they aired on the news the other night. I just don't
want them bothering you next.”

“
I understand,” she said, gazing up at him with new
eyes. How had she ever walked away from this man? “I thought
reporters were just supposed to report the news, not make it.”

“
Just like engineers are just supposed to engineer,”
he said on a sigh. “But everything's okay now because you're here.”
He put his hands on her waist and tugged her close. “Want to go out
to dinner?”

Charity nodded, not caring where they went as long as
they were together. In the next moment, she was alarmed by the
headlong nature of her thoughts but at the same time felt helpless to
do anything about it.

Daniel checked his watch. “I'm off in twenty minutes.
Can you wait here for me?”

“
Sure,” she said, feeling exhilarated and bewildered
in the same instant.

“
I need to go tell my boss how that interview went.”
He pressed a lingering kiss on her mouth and turned to go.

When she was alone, Charity sagged onto the nearest
chair. She took the opportunity to gather her fragmented thoughts.
This experience was so new, she felt like she was blundering along in
the dark. Was this how Daniel felt about her? Exasperated? Terrified?
Full of incoherent yearning? When she considered that for a minute,
she realized how difficult it must've been for him to press her on
her sisters. He'd risked angering her to the point of a break up. And
it had nearly come to that.

Which meant his actions were based on true affection and
not some weird manipulation as she'd originally thought. Her esteem
for him increased as she waited. But with that esteem, she realized
even more what was at stake.

Her sisters had the power to ruin everything for her.

As they had always managed to do in the past.

***

Faith and Hope were the last thing on Charity's mind
over the following weeks. Instead she focused on how to navigate her
relationship with Daniel. By some unspoken consent, neither talked
about the hovering sibling specter, and so their time together was
comfortable as they worked primarily to finish up loose ends on the
care home auction.

At least that was the excuse. It seemed there was always
some last detail to chase down as a favor for another committee
member. But she didn't care when time spent with Daniel had fringe
benefits. Charity wondered how she'd subsisted without his touch,
without the sound of his voice near her ear, without the taste of his
lips. She tried to look back on her days before him, but the memories
were shadowed and wavering.

She also had some good news about her scone recipe. Rose
City Java would now be offering scones as part of their baked goods
selection. The bakery had come up with an improved recipe—made with
butter flavored hydrogenated oil. Not exactly heavy whipping cream
and butter, but at least they were moist. The customers loved them
and they sold out so fast, Jessie had to up the bakery order. Charity
also had to put her foot down when Jessie said they'd be offering
margarine and jam packets to go with the scones. After haranguing him
for half a day he finally agreed on real butter packets. He later
told her revenues were up and even managed to offer her a small raise
for her contribution to the business. It was nice to have an area of
her life not plagued by doubts and second thoughts. If only she felt
that unencumbered sense of satisfaction when it came to her
relationship with Daniel.

As the night of the auction closed in, Holly began to
show signs of worry. One evening after work Charity found the redhead
wandering around the apartment in some webby, Gothic looking dress.

“
What are you wearing?” Charity asked, dropping her
purse onto the kitchen counter.

Holly looked down at the strange creation hanging from
her limbs. “How formal is this auction thing going to be anyway?”

She considered that dress formal? Yikes. It looked more
like a Halloween get-up. “So you're going?”

Holly shrugged. “Might as well, right?”