Page 59 of A Twist of Faith
“Our first kiss.” He leaned down and kissed her again, sending another spray of heat across her body. She gripped his shirt tighter. “And second.”
He held tight, his body a rock of strength and protection. She buried her face into his chest and sighed. “You don’t keep to-do lists.”
He inched back and lifted a brow. “Of course I do. Right up here.” He tapped his forehead and offered a crooked grin. “Scary?”
His continued closeness did strange things to her clarity of thought and his warmth pressed into her heart, filling empty places she didn’t even know she had. “Terrifying.” Her grin spread wide. “I’m on a list along with fertilizer, overshoes, and cattle feed.”
“There’s no need to be jealous, darlin’. You’re near the top of the list.”
Her smile turned into a laugh. “How very comforting.”
He entwined his hand through hers and winked. “I knew it would be.”
As he pulled away the cool evening brought her senses to life. What was she doing? How could this be so easy and sweet? It was wrong. “We can’t do this, you know? You’re my client.”
He studied her with crooked brow. “Now wait one minute, you told me we were just friends helping each other out. Being neighborly.” He tipped her chin with his finger until she looked up at him. “Isn’t that right? Orwasright until about three minutes ago when we moved a step above just friends?”
“You’re right.” She nodded, trying to push the guilt aside and hold on to the moment. He never needed to know about the wager anyway. “You’re a friend.”
He cleared his throat and pierced her with an expectant look. “Friend?” He swooped her close again and kissed her long and deep, until her breathing came in fragments and her thoughts a faded blur. “You oughta know I don’t make a habit of kissing the sense out of my friends.”
“Okay,” she whispered through a chuckle. “Maybe a little more than a friend.”
And all those pretty plans for escaping backwoods Appalachia becamea littlemore complicated.
Chapter 12
How can she? She’s incapable of understanding anything. Besides, do any of us understand what we are doing? If we did, would we ever do it?
(Pygmalion, Act 2)
Dee managed to sneak into church late Sunday morning to see if the pastor told more about the lost son. Since the last sermon, the unfinished story tickled a question in the back of her mind about the truth behind this Finder of lost things. Combined with Reese’s words from the night before, her curiosity pushed her to a senseless choice: church.
The pastor’s words supported Reese’s revelation. God was a God of grace? The notion beat against her hardened experiences. Grace? Sounded much too simple for the reward.
She sneaked out of church before any of the Mitchells could invite her for a meal, stayed huddled in the house with some leftover spaghetti from Daphne’s and even brought Haus inside after she got home so everyone would think she was gone.
Logic told her the actions bordered on ridiculous. She liked Reese, a lot more than she wanted; and she’d fallen asleep with thoughts of their kiss still tingling on her lips the past two nights. But he had expectations, and she couldn’t fulfill them. He was a dad. His kids needed wife and mother material. She couldn’t even change a diaper properly, let alone help with the really difficult situations of family life. Rainey and Mrs. Mitchell gave her glimpses into a world of motherhood filled with laughter and hope—a sweet glance into what motherhoodcould be.Then there was Reese’s touch, his gentle kiss, cherished her and drew her in with the addictive potency of a drug.
And Ransom? She didn’t want Ransom to be home—not when Charlottesville fueled her dreams, but how could her heart and her head wrestle with a promise she’d believed in for years?
When she pulled into the parking lot at the university Monday morning, the last person she expected to see was Reese Mitchell, leaned up against his truck drinking coffee. Uncharacteristically, he’d left his hat off, probably to taunt her, and had worn the leather jacket she liked so much.
He walked toward her, an extra cup in his hands, his face unreadable, and her heart stuttered with nervous energy. Why was he here? What would she say?
Maybe she was a runner after all?
“Good morning,” Dee offered first, before he could respond.
“Mornin’.” He held out the other coffee cup, his gaze intense.
“You … you’re in town early.” She took the proffered cup.
“Here’s the thing, darlin’. At first I wondered if I kissed you so thoroughly it left you weak in the knees for two days. But then I caught a glimpse of you at church yesterday and realized my kiss wasn’t quite as powerful as I thought.”
“Reese, I—”
“Then I got to thinking on all the things you’ve said and ain … haven’t said about your life, and figured you might be scared.” He sighed and tilted his head to study her face. “I come with a pretty big package already. And I’m not in a hurry, so you can take your time and sort this out. But I’m going to have to tell you one thing.” He closed in and placed his palm on her shoulder to trap her against her little car. His deep rumble of his words cascaded down her neck in a pleasant tingle. “After Saturday night, if you’re going to be close enough to kiss, I’m going to have to kiss you.”
