A Midnight Clear Read Free Page B

several times, and had not been scared off by her implied rejections. She was impressed and horrified in equal measure, and once again, her body was popping and shimmering because he was near. Silly body.
    “I don’t need any help. I have two boxes—” She grabbed a third box from the shelf. She never could be too careful when her father’s cookie supply was in question. “Three boxes of cookies. I’m certain I can manage.”
    “But it would be my pleasure.”
    Oh, he was good. He hadn’t taken his eyes from hers during this entire exchange. His brow was furrowed and his hands knit into fists. His every cell was trained on her, strained toward her. It was very… affecting. She knew better, but she was moved. She believed he was yearning; she didn’t believe he was yearning for her .
    “You do realize I don’t know your name.”
    At this, his expression lightened somewhat, as if it had never occurred to him they didn’t know one another. “It’s Joe, Joe Reynolds. Joseph, really, but everyone calls me Joe. I’m a firstie. We met at a reception with the Superintendent.” How sweet that he used her father’s title and didn’t refer to his relationship with her. “We met fifteen days ago. I’ve been looking for you around town ever since.”
    His words reminded her of something: No sooner met but they looked… Because of her obligations to Suzanne and her father, she was only taking a few classes at the University of Maryland. She was limited to what was offered in the morning hours, so Shakespeare’s comedies it was. She’d been reading As You Like It just before she ran to the market.
    But this was real life, not the Forest of Arden.
    From the look on his face, Joe didn’t seem to realize that. He positively smoldered as he said, “Let me walk you home.”
    The correct line for this moment wasn’t Shakespeare, however—it was Aesop: Out of the frying pan and into the fire.
    So what if her body did notice his? So what if her heartbeat raced and her breathing went shallow when she was close to him? He wanted what they all did. Or maybe he was also infatuated, but it wasn’t like that was any good for her either. She didn’t want to get involved with a Navy man. Not now and not ever.
    “Joe,” she said gently, “you seem… nice. Persistent, but nice.”
    “I’m both of those. I’m also very good at carrying cookies.”
    He held out his hands, but she set nothing in them.
    “I don’t go out with members of the Brigade.”
    He nodded. This neither surprised nor troubled him. “Make an exception.”
    It was ridiculous that she felt any hesitation about turning him down, but she did. He was a midshipman who reminded her of a Shakespeare character. He was extremely good looking: tall and broad shouldered but still boyish. And those eyes! Expressive, thoughtful, and absolutely focused on her. As if he could discern the meaning of the stars by staring at her hard enough.
    She looked down at the cookies in her hand. For twenty years, her mother had made sure the pantry was stocked with them because it would make Father happy. Her mother’s entire life had been structured around supporting and pleasing him. And when she’d died, those functions had fallen to Frances.
    She didn’t know what Joe wanted. His attentions could be about her father. But he seemed… he seemed earnest. He could have all the good intentions in the world, however, that didn’t mean what he wanted was what she wanted. And what she wanted was not to be her mother.
    “I’m sorry, Joe. I am. But no.”
    For the second time in as many days, she walked away from him.
    When she arrived home, she was surprised to find Father sitting in his study. His pipe was in his hand and his nose was buried in the afternoon papers. She passed the cookies to Betsy and then went in.
    “What are you doing here?”
    He gestured absently with his pipe. “Oh, you know, Godfrey canceled his meeting with me and I’d finished some other things