8 Sandpiper Way-cedar cove 8 by Debbie Macomber

Author:Debbie Macomber [Macomber, Debbie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, General, Romance, Contemporary, Married People, Religion, Washington (State), Cedar Cove (Wash. : Imaginary Place), Community Life, Christian Life, Clergy, Spouses of Clergy, Women's Issues
ISBN: 0778325784
Google: OhCpMJPLnPoC
Amazon: 0778329704
Barnesnoble: 0778329704
Publisher: MIRA
Published: 2007-12-31T06:00:00+00:00

Nineteen

Christie was embarrassed to admit how nervous she felt about this dinner party her sister had arranged. When they’d met the previous week, Christie had agreed to contact James on her own. It’d sounded like a good idea at the time….

And yet Christie couldn’t make herself do it. The fear of rejection was just too strong. In exasperation Teri had intervened and asked both James and Christie to dinner. Christie knew James would be attending, but apparently he’d been left in the dark. She wasn’t entirely comfortable with that—it didn’t seem fair—but Teri insisted she knew what she was doing.

The two sisters had discussed their plan several times over the course of the day.

“What are you wearing?” Teri asked an hour before Christie was due to arrive.

So far she hadn’t decided. She’d tried on almost every outfit she owned and discarded them all. “I…don’t know yet. Do you have any suggestions?”

“Nothing too fancy,” Teri cautioned. “The evening’s supposed to be relaxed, low-key. Think casual.”

Christie glanced at her reflection in the bedroom mirror and started to unfasten the sequined top. She hadn’t liked the way it fit, anyway. “How about jeans and a sweater?” she asked next. Earlier that week, Wal-Mart had offered jeans on sale. Christie knew a bargain when she saw one and with her employee discount, the store had practically given her those Levi’s.

“That’s a little too casual. Do you have any black pants?”

Christie’s gaze shot to her closet. “Yeah, I think so.” Somewhere buried deep in the back there was probably a pair. She tended to stick to jeans; they fit well and were comfortable.

“Wear those and a sweater. Listen, I’ve got to scoot if I’m going to get dinner on the table.”

Christie stopped her. “James still doesn’t know I’m coming, right?”

Her sister hesitated. “Unfortunately he does. Bobby wasn’t supposed to say anything but he forgot.”

“Oh.”

“He’ll be here, don’t worry.”

“Okay.”

“See you in an hour.”

That hardly seemed long enough. Christie tore into her closet again. Clothes were scattered all over the floor and across her bed. Anyone looking at her room would assume she’d been the victim of a burglary. She’d worked today, so she hadn’t bothered to make her bed, and between that and the clothes strewn everywhere, the room was a hopeless mess. Christie was pretty sure she knew what James would think if he were to see it.

Instantly the image of James naked and in her bed flashed into her mind. She couldn’t begin to imagine what kind of lover he’d be. Polite to a fault, no doubt. She shook her head to dispel the image. Her heart raced, and she couldn’t even figure out why she cared about this overpolite stuffed shirt, anyway.

But for reasons she didn’t completely understand, she did care. She wanted him to like her; she wanted to be a better person for James.

She could still see the disappointment in his eyes when she’d come out of The Pink Poodle. Yes, she’d been drinking, but she wasn’t drunk. Far from it. Besides, it wasn’t any of his business where she was or who she was with or what she was doing.

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