Project Love (Cascade Brides Series) (13 page)

Charity cocked her chin. “Ha ha, Jessie.”

He put up his hands. “Hey, I'm just sayin'.”

“
So how
did
you hear about it?” Amy asked.

“
A friend.” Charity glanced at the clock. Daniel
might be in soon.

“
Hmmm,” Jessie said, sounding unconvinced. “You're
in a mood today. Rough weekend?”

“
Nope. What about yours?”

“
Hung with my mom and aunt. You know—that thing
called family.”

“
I don't think hanging with the family makes you all
spacey,” Amy said.

Charity swallowed. “Who's spacey?”

“
You.”

“
That's true,” Jessie said. “You've been off in
la-la land all morning.”

Charity motioned to the overflowing tip jar. “Are you
sure about that?”

“
What were you thinking about?” Amy asked, her blue
eyes curious.

“
Probably Mr. Tall, Dark, and Serious,” Jessie said.
“Do you need a few minutes to do your hair and primp before he
comes in? You have some competition now with his newfound popularity.
You might have to work a little harder to hold onto him.”

Charity sent him what she hoped was a steely look. But
mostly she just felt bad-tempered. It took all of her self-control
not to reach up and adjust her ponytail. Pretending to be busy she
headed over to the espresso machine and tried to see her reflection
in the shiny appliance. But it was too blurry.

“
Uh oh, you shoulda taken the opportunity I offered.
Too late now.”

Charity glanced at the door and saw Daniel enter the
shop. Her body turned toward him like a flower to the sun and she
strongly suspected she had a dazed look on her face.

He smiled as he approached the counter. “How are you
today, Charity?” he asked politely.

She struggled to
formulate a clever answer but could only remember what it was like to
kiss him.
Heavenly. Sublime. Warranting repetition
...

“
Sir, I apologize for my employee. Can I get you
anything?”

Jessie's words broke the trance. “The same?” she
asked.

“
Of course,” he said, his eyes glinting with
amusement.

Red-faced, she got his coffee and put his money in the
cash register. “Thanks.”

He leaned close. “Do you want to go to dinner with me
tonight? We could go over some of the fund-raiser stuff.”

“
Sure,” she said, hoping Jessie didn't catch the
question.

“
I'll pick you up at your place at six.”

“
Sounds good.”

He held up his coffee. “Can't stay. Gotta head back.”

“
See you tonight,” she said softly.

When he was gone, she
put her hands over her ears, dreading the grilling to come. “I
don't
want to hear
it.”

“
Well, now we know where you found out about the other
fund-raiser,” Jessie said archly, before erupting into laughter.

“
You're dating him?” Amy asked, her eyes wide with
disbelief.

How to answer that? Why was it anyone's business anyway?
“For the moment,” she said tersely, then headed to the stock room
to grab supplies. Or something.

***

“
Is Japanese okay?” Daniel asked as Charity got in
the car. She smelled of light perfume with just a hint of coffee
bean. He smiled at the contrast. “There's a good sushi place a few
blocks away.”

“
Sure,” she said, latching her seat belt.

Daniel didn't really plan on talking about the
fund-raiser. He mostly wanted to get a bead on Charity's reaction to
their weekend. Had he moved too fast? Did she feel pressured? Was he
lagging behind?

If there was a schematic for romantic relationships,
he'd have it committed to memory. Instead he felt like he was
fumbling in the dark. All his thought-out plans had an unpredictable
variable. And she was sitting right next to him.

Over dinner, she seemed quieter than usual, picking at
her food and answering in not quite mono-syllables, but close.

“
How's your food?”

“
Good,” she said, her smile an attempt at
reassurance.

“
Any regrets? About the weekend?”

At her widened eyes, Daniel realized he'd asked the
question out loud.

“
Um, wow,” she said, lowering her chopsticks.

“
Sorry. That just popped out.”

She regarded him across the table. “Well, I admit I'm
not a hundred percent sure where I fit in this...situation.”

“
Situation?”

“
Okay, I'll be blunt, too. Are we dating?”

His brows went up. “I hope so. You might be shocked to
hear this, but I'm not casual with my kisses.”

That got a smile. “So we're a legit couple?”

He nodded. How did she not know that?

As if reading his mind, she said, “I just didn't want
to presume anything.”

Daniel reached across the table and took her hand in
his. “I think about you all the time when I'm not with you, and
when I am, I don't want our time together to end.”

She licked her lips. “Oh.”

Was there hesitation in her tone? “If I'm going too
fast or not communicating my feelings properly—”

“
That sounds so...engineer-like.”

“
Sorry. Old habits.” He leaned close. “Seriously,
you can set the pace here, Charity. We should be honest with each
other about our expectations.”

Her faint smile faded. After a moment, she nodded.

What did I say?

The rest of their time passed with a suppressed feeling
of awkwardness. Daniel wracked his brain for what might have altered
her mien so.

But when they parted at her door, her sweet kisses went
a long way in restoring his equilibrium.

Chapter Ten

Sunday didn't dispel
Charity's disquiet. While she enjoyed the gentle reverence of the
church service with Daniel, it did little to calm the burgeoning
pressure she felt within. She hadn't been looking for a serious
relationship—though it could be argued she couldn't say
what
she'd been looking for. In so
many ways she felt unprepared for what was expected of her. In the
past, she'd been able to avoid serious entanglements with flighty
behavior and frequent job changes.

How had Daniel made it past her attempted defenses? And
with such apparent ease?

Charity peeked up at him through her lashes and felt a
fresh wave of longing laced with angst. She wished her stomach would
stop twisting even as her heart pounded harder when he wrapped his
fingers around hers.

Daniel was kind and decent and...organized. Maybe even a
little ambitious. Ambitious and organization were not exactly her
middle names. At what point would she disappoint him? When would he
see beyond her percolating coffee shop persona to the directionless,
disorganized person that muddled her way through life? A person who
kept all relationships at arm's length? Was it cruel to allow their
relationship to develop when it might be pointless?

I don't want to hurt him. He doesn't deserve that
.

And yet when he met her speculative gaze with a smile,
all pangs of nobility melted away. Despite her intentions, she
squeezed his hand before redirecting her attention to the service.

Later, Charity struggled to act natural through lunch at
a neighborhood bistro. If Daniel sensed anything awry, he didn't
mention it. She forced herself to eat her salad and respond to his
conversation with alacrity, hoping her acting skills were better than
her life-ambition skills.

“
So, how's work going?” she asked. A nice and safe
topic.

“
Actually, it's going okay for the moment.”

“
That's good news.”

His smile was crooked. “I think I'm finally getting
the hang of on-screen interviews. I'm not quite as stiff and
terrified.”

“
So you're becoming glib, is that it?” she teased.

“
Very funny. But I must be doing something right
because my boss is happy and the news stations seem to be running out
of gotcha questions.”

“
Maybe your company is handling the project well.”

He sighed. “I hope so. I'm not in on the details. I
just get my talking points from the front desk and hope I make it
through each interview.”

“
I'm sure it's all due to your mad skillz.”

“
Ah, yes, that must be it.”

She smiled, enjoying the darkening of his cheeks.

“
I love the bread here,” Daniel said, helping
himself to another piece.

“
It might be the butter and Parmesan glaze they add to
it,” she said, nibbling on a small piece. “With a touch of salt.”

“
Yum,” he said, his cheeks full.

Charity smiled in response, her heart aching to see him
so light-hearted. It wasn't that long ago he'd been the taciturn
customer quietly requesting his daily dose of caffeine. The notion
that she had something to do with his improved mood made her more
anxious than ever.

Daniel swallowed. “Do you do any of the baking at the
coffee shop?”

She shook her head. “The pastries and such are ordered
in from a local bakery.”

“
Hmm.”

“
What?”

He shrugged. “I had a Danish once.”

She grinned. “Once.”

“
Yep.”

“
Yikes.”

“
Exactly.”

Charity speared a piece of lettuce with her fork. “I
think the baked goods used to be better. It seems to me Jessie
mentioned the bakery was under new management.”

“
Maybe the economy means cutbacks on the better
ingredients.”

“
Maybe,” she conceded. “But I still think they
could be better.”

“
Do you bake?”

The hopeful look in his eyes made her wonder if in
reality he had a sweet tooth. “I like to, when I have the time.”

“
You should let Jessie know. Maybe the shop could
carry your baked goods.”

Her mouth quirked. “Interesting but unlikely. Number
one, Rose City Java is a local chain which means corporate has
contracted out that part of the offerings to an area bakery. Two, I
can't supply pastries from my kitchen. There are health department
inspections and all that stuff required.”

“
Ah. But have you ever made anything and brought it to
Jessie for taste-testing? He might be so impressed, he'll approach
corporate to encourage a change.”

Charity sent him a dry
look. “I think you're overestimating my abilities.”
In
more ways than one
.

“
Not to be a contrarian, but I disagree.”

“
Daniel, you've never tasted my baked goods.”

He fixed her with a steady look. “That oversight can
be amended.”

She laughed, realizing she'd been cornered. “I'll
happily make you anything you want.”

“
Scones,” he said dreamily. “Do you know how hard
it is to find fresh-baked scones?”

Her brows went up. “Actually, I just recommended that
to Jessie!”

“
Recommend it again.”

She leaned forward, amused by his desire for the treat.
“There's a tea room on the west end that has scones.”

Daniel straightened. “Do I look like the tea room
type?”

Putting up her hands,
she said, “Well, no, I guess not. But if you want them
that
badly...”

“
One's masculinity must be maintained at all times.”

“
Wow.” She shook her head. “Anyway, the grocery
store sells a mix you can buy anytime.”

He cleared his throat. “I tried that once. They were
dry. I once went to England and had some that were moist and
crumbly.”

“
You were in England?”

“
It was for an engineering conference a year or so
back.”

“
Did you do the whole tourist thing?”

He shrugged. “Not really. I went because my boss got
sick before the trip. Most of the guys there wanted to party and I
just wanted—”

“
Scones. And tea.”

He made a face. “You got me.”

“
Wait! You just said you wouldn't be caught dead in a
tea room!”

“
That's just here in the states. In England, even the
manly men go to tea rooms and eat bangers and mash and toads in a
hole.”

She grinned. “You're very complex.”

“
Not really. I like tea when I'm in England, coffee
when I'm Stateside, and scones whenever I can get my hands on them.”

“
So how soon are you talking? About me baking you a
batch?”