Page 90 of The Kiss Keeper
“And even if this curse were real, everyone knows that true love can undo any otherworldly enchantment. Watch any old Disney movie,” she added with a wink.
“You’re right,” he replied.
Sister Evangeline shrugged. “There you go.”
But it wasn’t just a curse that he had to defeat.
He slumped forward. “But she hates me. I deceived her. Even if the curse is bogus, how can I account for my behavior? How can I ever be worthy of her?”
The nun nodded solemnly. “Let me ask you this. What would you do if, magically, all your guilt, shame, and self-doubt disappeared?”
He sat back as the image of Natalie, gazing up at him in line at the airport, flashed through his mind. Even then, she’d had his heart.
“I’d do whatever it takes to get to her. I’d tell her that the only thing I want in this world is to spend the rest of my life proving myself to her, showing her how much she means to me, and how much Camp Woolwich means to me,” he replied, surprised at how easy it was to spill his guts to the feisty nun.
Sister Evangeline’s expression grew serious. She closed her eyes, then raised her hand and snapped her fingers, startling him and almost knocking him off the damn stool.
“Okay, it’s done,” she said and took another sip of her martini.
“What’s done?” he asked, his gaze bouncing from the nun to the bartender who shrugged his confusion.
“I checked in with the big guy upstairs. You’re forgiven,” she said, gesturing for Trevor to bring her a bowl of olives.
“I am? You can do that?” Jake stammered, glancing around, looking for a ray of light or possibly a thunderbolt. Something that spoke of divine intervention.
“I’m a nun,” she answered with a wave of her hand.
“Can she do that?” he asked Trevor.
“She sure gets her way a lot. I’ll give her that,” the guy replied.
The woman chuckled then stilled.
“What is it? Are you getting another message?” Jake asked, checking for a cherub or a burning bush.
Shit! He’d wished he’d paid attention in Sunday school.
“It doesn’t work like that,” she said, then handed him a helmet and swiped the keys from the counter.
He frowned. “What are you doing?”
“God’s work,” she said, placing the large helmet on her little nun head.
“Which is?” he questioned.
“Love,” she offered.
“Love,” he repeated.
The nun watched him closely. “You love Natalie, right?”
“Yes,” he replied as the weight of his predicament sank in.
He loved her. This girl who’d lived in his heart since he was a boy. This blindfolded beauty who’d been a beacon of light in his darkest days. She was that kernel of hope that remained even after the heartbreak of losing his parents and the misery of growing up on his uncle’s dairy farm. He may have lost his way in this world and constructed a life that was nothing more than a house of cards built on deals and dollars, but that wasn’t who he was. During this time with Natalie, the hope in his heart had reignited, the lessons he’d learned from his parents had been reborn, and he’d experienced the pure, real joy of loving another.
The nun snapped again, jolting him from his thoughts.
“Hey, loverboy! Pay for my drink, then meet me outside,” she said, hopping off the stool.
