Joe’s expression remained taut, his lips a firm line. She wished she could wipe the concern from his brow.
“Your family has been nothing short of wonderful. I couldn’t possibly feel more welcome with them, but I’d prefer to sleep in my own bed tonight. You can come and fetch me tomorrow if you don’t like the idea of me taking a cab back to your place.”
He pulled off his gloves. “Are you sure?”
Unstrapping the heels she’d worn to work that morning, she stepped into a pair of fuzzy slippers. “I’m sure. If my father calls—I know he probably won’t—but if he does, I should be here to talk to him.” It would be so much easier not to, but nothing would ever getresolved that way. “I hate this fresh divide between us, especially at Christmastime.” Dad was wrong, but she’d overreacted and hadn’t given him a chance to explain.
Apparently convinced she intended to stay, Joe removed his coat and crossed to the cold hearth to build a fire.
The Christmas tree began shaking, jingling the silver-bell ornaments, and Lauren hurried to pull the cat from where she was climbing through the branches. After tossing Cleo to the floor with a perfunctory scold that would certainly go unheeded, she padded to the sofa and sat.
After brushing bits of bark from his hands, Joe took the folded blanket and unfurled it over her. When he sat beside her, she arranged it over his knees, too.
“I see you’ve done some ... redecorating.” Joe nodded toward the mantel where she’d flipped over the framed photograph of her and her father, then toward the two small blue figures peeking out from the top of the bookcase. “I’m sorry your Christmas isn’t what you expected.”
Cleo jumped on the couch and walked across Joe’s lap and onto Lauren’s. She rested a hand on the cat’s back. “Expectations can be overrated,” she said. “I didn’t expect to spend time with your family, and I enjoyed that so much. Thank you for that.”
“You’re more than welcome. All of us were happy to have you, and as soon as I get home, I’m sure they’ll interrogate me about why I didn’t extend an invitation sooner.”
She smiled but sensed something was off. He’d seemed a little distant throughout the meal. “Is something bothering you, Joe? Aside from the note and the forger we haven’t caught yet?”
He scratched Cleo between her ears. But a muscle flexed in his jaw.
That was a yes.
“Did I ever tell you what I really want for Christmas?” she asked. “Honesty.”
“From your father?”
“Of course. But I’d welcome it from anyone else who’s brave enough to be on the level with me.” Lauren held his gaze. “So what’s on your mind, straight shooter?”
His mouth twitched into a smile, then fell flat again. “Yeah, you’re right.” He rubbed the back of his neck. He was nervous.
That wasn’t good.
“I care for you deeply,” he began, in a way that sounded like a caveat would soon follow. “Which is why I’m so afraid of hurting you in the long-term.”
Lauren frowned. She’d known him longer than any other man in her life, except for her father and Uncle Julian. She already cared for Joe long-term. They’d known each other for two decades, for goodness’ sake. “Why would you say that?”
“Your father hurt you by not being there for you when you needed him. I see how rejected you feel, even now, when his work calls him away.”
“That’s different,” Lauren inserted, already seeing where this was going.
“I’ve missed dinners, birthdays, and holidays, too. For as long as I’m a police detective, there’s always a possibility that something will come up at the last minute and take precedence over a plan that’s been on the calendar for weeks or months. I don’t want to hurt you, Lauren, but given how important reliability is to you, it seems inevitable. I will cancel plans. As much as I want to be available any time, that’s not going to happen.”
Lauren wasn’t stupid. She knew the realities of a detective’s occupation meant his hours were irregular. “I understand that. I don’t need or want you to be at my beck and call. I’m not a lovesick schoolgirl so infatuated that I can’t function without you. I’m a working professional trying to get to Egypt. You and I are two independent people.”
“Yes,” he conceded. “But when you go to Egypt, that’s your choice. What I’m worried about is when we’re both in the same city, and you want me to be somewhere, and I disappoint you, like your father has. It will happen again and again.”
If Lauren didn’t know better, she’d think he was trying to wave her off. What she didn’t know was whether it was for her sake or for his.
Dread quickened. “Have you changed your mind about me? Do you want to go back to being friends only?”
“No, that’s not what this is. You own my heart, Lauren. I couldn’t take it back if I wanted to. And I don’t want to.”
She studied his face, his earnestness a balm to her ragged nerves. “Then I still say that this is different from my father’s absence when I was a young girl with a dying mother. I can take care of myself now, and I have my own work to keep me busy.”
“And yet you’re still upset when Lawrence’s work interferes with your plans to spend time together.” He paused, giving her time to deny it.
