plans for the evening. However, he promised he’d start bright and early Sunday on the projects for the nursing home. Mattie wondered if he’d grown tired of her company and lost interest in the kiss that never happened—and probably never would.
Story of her life, actually, she thought as she unplugged the power tools, tapped the lids onto the paint cans, then swept up sawdust. She’d always been one of the guys during her high school and college days. She was the misfit female in woodwork classes who took her projects seriously. No one had been interested in dating a girl who showed the guys up in class through her skills with a saw, drill and can of paint.
Same probably held true with Joe, she mused. Undoubtedly, he had decided to look elsewhere for a hot date. Women had been hovering around the store for a solid week, flirting outrageously, asking his opinions and making purchases, just so he would wait on them, spend a few extra moments with them.
So why was she complaining if Joe had a hot date on Saturday night? Hadn’t she wanted to keep their relationship platonic? Hadn’t she been wishing for a skilled assistant to mind the store while she created new window displays, which usually sold within a few hours of being set up? Hadn’t she craved more spare time to pursue her private craft projects? She was getting what she wanted, and she wasn’t as happy as she thought she’d be. And all because she had developed an infatuation for a man whom she’d labeled as off-limits.
You go, girl.
“Just shut up,” Mattie muttered at that annoying little voice. She was going home to soak in a hot bath, stuff her face with snacks and sprawl in her recliner. Another exciting, fun-filled evening at the Roland homestead.
Feeling immensely sorry for herself, Mattie closed up the shop, piled into her old model car and drove home. An hour later, dressed in an oversize T-shirt that served as a nightgown, flip-flops, and not much else, Mattie stood at her kitchen window, staring at a distant campfire that cast swaying shadows on the trees that lined the creek behind her house.
“Well, damn,” Mattie grumbled as she headed for the back door. She suspected Pops and his cohorts had sneaked away from the nursing home to fish in the creek. Either that or aliens had landed their flying saucer on the far side of the hill and were conducting scientific experiments.
Annoyed, Mattie picked her way down the dirt path and peered around a tree. Sure enough, Pops was tossing his fishing line into the creek with one hand and holding an aluminum can in the other. Damnation, if he upset the chemical balance his doctor and nurses were trying to align, she’d murder him. This nonsense had to stop!
As far as the other old men were concerned, Mattie would threaten to tattle to their families if they didn’t cease these moonlight capers…
Her murderous thoughts scattered like buckshot when she saw Joe Gray rise up from his lounging position near a tree. She knew it was him. His broad shoulders and narrow hips gave him away as he leaned over to retrieve a beer can from the ice chest.
That did it! Mattie was plenty mad. She stalked forward to put a stop to this latest shenanigan. She was royally PO’d, and she didn’t care who knew it.
“All right, party’s over,” she snapped brusquely. “Blast it, Pops!”
Pops clutched his chest and staggered to support himself on the three-pronged cane beside him. “Damn it, Shortcake, what are you trying to do? Give us a collective heart attack?”
“Why not? It’s bound to come sooner or later if you and your friends hang out in this damp night air, chugging beer and munching on high-cholesterol snacks.” Her chest heaved with frustration. “Have the whole bunch of you lost your minds? When the director finds you missing he’ll have a conniption, order you restrained or boot you out, depending on his mood. And you—” She rounded on Joe, gearing up to read him every paragraph of the riot act.
Pops waved his arms in expansive gestures to gain Mattie’s attention before she laid into Joe. “Calm down, Shortcake. We just came down to the creek to try out the new rods and reels Joe bought for us. And this isn’t booze,” he informed her. “It’s sugar-free, decaffeinated fruit juice. See?” He held the aluminum can in front of the lantern so she could read the label. “And besides, that uppity director at Paradise Valley didn’t catch us when we sneaked off last Saturday. So what are the odds that he’ll notice we’re missing when the other patients agreed to cover for us?”
“Last Saturday?” Mattie’s gaze targeted Joe like a heat-seeking missile. “You chauffeured them down here last Saturday, too?”
“Don’t go blaming our pal Joe,” Fred broke in. “We wrestled him to the ground and twisted his arms every which way until he agreed to help us make our getaway. He’s totally innocent, isn’t he, boys?”
Four heads bobbed in agreement.
“Yeah, right,” Mattie said, then smirked. “Like I can see that happening. You boys tackling Joe and manhandling him? Uh-huh, sure. Now gather up your fishing paraphernalia. I’m taking you back to the home.”
“It’s only nine o’clock,” Ralph complained. “We have an hour of freedom before we have to worry about curfew.”
“Tough, you’re AWOL, and we all know it. Pack it up and haul butt!” Mattie ordered succinctly.
Pouting like children, the senior citizens gathered their gear and cast her mutinous glares at irregular intervals. They were making her out to be the villain here, and she didn’t appreciate it one damn bit. She wasn’t backing down, no matter how many times their glares branded her a traitor.
“I’ll get the car,” she announced, whirling around.
“Mattie,” Joe called softly.
“What?” She didn’t do him the courtesy of looking at him.
“Maybe I better take the boys home. Although you look spectacular in that flimsy T-shirt, especially when the lantern light shines through it, I don’t advise parading around town, dressed as you are, with these escapees in tow. People might get the wrong impression.”
Mattie’s face blazed Congo Red. “I apologize if I made you uncomfortable, Joe,” she chirped.
“You did, all right,” he confirmed, his voice raspy. “You realize, of course, that this is going to affect my perception of you on the job. You may have to fire me for daydreaming.”
Covering herself as best she could, Mattie pivoted to meet Joe’s ornery grin. He was teasing her, and loving every minute of it, she realized. “Jerk,” she flung at him.
“Sex goddess,” he tossed back.
That stopped her cold. Sex goddess? She’d never considered herself any such thing. Furthermore, no man had ever referred to her as such. Obviously Joe was teasing her again. “Very funny. Hardy-har-har. If you’re finished having a laugh at my expense, then you can haul those elderly hoodlums to the home. Plus, I will reimburse you for the refreshments and fishing rods. Catering to my rascally grandfather and his cronies is not part of your job description.”
He cocked a dark brow. “As my employer, do the sacred rules and regulations state that you can tell me how to spend my paycheck?”
“You haven’t received your first paycheck,” she reminded him.
“Yeah so, what’s your point, Ms. Roland?”
