Page 65 of Hotter 'N Hell

“Okay.” The word fell from my lips.

His shoulders relaxed, and he closed his eyes. “Thank you.”

I would use this as a lesson. Teach myself some control, self-respect. I wouldn’t fantasize over a man who didn’t choose mefirst. Because vows or no vows, he had a choice. We always had a choice. And I was worthy of that kind of love.

He opened his eyes, and a smile spread across his face. Then, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, wrapped in shiny pink paper. “Happy birthday, Dimples.”

He had bought me a present.

Silly heart, you need to chill. That is not what we are doing.

I reached for it.

“Thank you,” I said as I immediately tore off the paper, causing him to chuckle.

This was the only wrapped gift I had been given today. Everyone else in my life always took me shopping or gave me money.

I flipped open the black box I’d unwrapped. A small yellow sunshine charm dangled from a silver chain. I touched the small charm with my fingertip. Funny how the first piece of jewelry given to me by a man that I didn’t have to go pick out was from the one man I’d never call mine.

“I want you to have a reminder. That just because we can’t be more, you’re still the only one who lights up my day.”

Cue the lump in my throat.

I picked it up and unlatched it, then held it out to him. “Put it on me.”

His fingers brushed mine as he took it, and the tingle that coursed through me was familiar now. Maybe one day, that would stop, too, and I could love him the way I did Gathe.

Twenty-Four

Saylor

Thursday, I had promised to have lunch with my mom, and she’d arranged for us to have a private room at a spa she visited often in Jackson for manicures, pedicures, facials, and massages. We had also both gotten a Brazilian wax, but in separate rooms. That wasn’t something I wanted to have mother-daughter time bonding over.

Friday, I had gone to three different food pantries in the surrounding cities to see how they did things and take notes on the things I liked. I also got some ideas on things that could be done better. A hot-pink binder now joined my blue one for all food-pantry planning.

Saturday, I debated on going to Threads of Love and Hope, but decided that I should work on designing flyers to place at the local soup kitchens and shelters. I had taken pictures of the different racks and displays to show what was offered. The oldflyers they had put out, advertising it, were faded and tattered.

Ten minutes after four, I got a text when I was uploading the flyer graphic to an online service to have them printed. It was from Jude. Seeing his name made me tense. I’d been avoiding him. The necklace he’d given me only left my neck for showers, but actually having to be around him made me nervous. I wanted to believe I could do this—whatever this was. Afriendship that was more, but couldn’t be morething?

I had my doubts.

Which was why I had yet to step foot on any of the church property.

Picking up my phone, I opened the text and sucked it up. I had to find my footing and deal with it if I was going to go back to the clothes closet.

Jude:

You did agree to return. Right? I didn’t misunderstand things…

In other words, where the hell are you?

Saylor:

I did. I spent time going to see some other food pantries and getting ideas.

I looked at the time. Wait…

Saylor:

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