“Maybe so.” He gestured for her to go first. “But I’m incapable of leaving a woman on her dark doorstep and hoping for the best.”
“Caleb.” Her exasperation was clear.
“Give it up, Jules. I’m walking you to your door. My old man might not have done much right, but he did raise me to be a gentleman.”
“This is senseless.” But she started to move.
“Maybe. But it’s not going to hurt anything either. You really do need to learn to pick your battles.”
“And you need to learn how to deploy your energy.”
He smiled to himself as he followed her down. He was perfectly happy with his deployment of energy. He had a feeling he’d walk miles just to keep arguing with her.
The wooden steps felt punky beneath his feet, springing slightly with his weight. Squinting, he could make out what looked like moss growing at the edges.
“How old is this staircase?” he asked.
“I have no idea.”
He gave the rail a pointed wiggle. “It needs to be replaced.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
“I’m serious, Jules. This could be dangerous.”
Forget the possibility of it giving way, the aging wood was slimy and slippery. Somebody was going to fall, and it was a long, long way down. He peered at the dim, distant porchlight.
“It’s none of your concern, Caleb. And there are a lot of pressing issues in my life right now, including an injured sister.”
He immediately felt like a heel. “I’m sorry.”
He wished he’d gone first. That way, if she slipped in the dark, she’d have him to break her fall. He should have thought of that. Why hadn’t he thought of that?
As a stopgap measure, he reached for her hand, enveloping it in his, thinking he could at least brace her if she slipped.
She tried to tug her hand away.
He was having none of it. “Pick your battles,” he reminded her.
“This isn’t a date,” she tossed over her shoulder.
“I sure hope not.” The idea was downright alarming. “Fast food and a trip to the emergency room? That would be the worst date in the world.”
“To be clear, this little walk to the door, holding my hand, cozying up. You’re not getting a kiss good-night.”
“I’m holding your hand to keep you from falling.”
“Of course you are.” The sarcasm was back.
“You’re a very suspicious woman.”
“You’re a very calculating man.”
“I’m not angling for a kiss.” Though he’d be lying if he pretended he didn’t want one. “But, just for the sake of argument, what would it take? Exactly how good would the date have to be for a guy to get a kiss from you?”
“It has nothing to do with the quality of the date. I mean, of course, it would have to be a good date. By that I mean an enjoyable date. But it wouldn’t have to be an expensive date. I’m not about to be bowled over by opulent surroundings and fine wine.”
“Cheap wine it is.”
They’d reached her porch, and she turned. “It’s the caliber of the company that counts.”
She was beautiful in the starlight.
“I’ve been told I’m a good conversationalist,” he noted.
“I bet you have. And I bet it was by women who were enjoying fine wine and opulent surroundings?”
“You have a low opinion of your own gender, Juliet.”
His response seemed to throw her, and her brow furrowed.
“I didn’t mean it that way,” she said.
“I know how you meant it. You think I date women who like me for my money.”
“Not exactly...”
He had her off balance, and he took advantage of it, easing forward. “I don’t believe this. You’ve actually talked yourself into a corner.”
“No, I haven’t. Just give me a second.”
“Sure.” He waited, enjoying the view of her blue eyes, pupils overlarge in the dim light, shining like windows to her soul.
“This isn’t fair,” she finally said in a husky voice.
“Why not?”
“I’m tired. I’m not at my best.”
“You need me to give you a head start?”
It was clear she had to fight a grin.
“You know what your problem is?” he asked, brushing the back of his hand softly against her cheek.
He expected her to pull back, but she didn’t.
“What is my problem?” Her voice was suddenly breathy.
“You don’t know what to do about me.”
She paused, and her white teeth scraped across her bottom lip. “I wish I could argue with that—”
“But you’re tired,” he finished the sentence for her. “And you’re not at your best.”