Page 72 of A Twist of Faith
“He gits down on his knees and thanks God for things. Then he asks God to give us sweet dreams.”
Didn’t sound too complicated. Dee lowered herself to her knees. Lou’s hand emerged from the covers to take Dee’s. Words knotted in Dee’s throat and the fourteen-year-old girl hiding behind years of hurt peeked from her soul into a prayer. God? Are you there? She pinched her eyes closed.
“Um … dear God.”Thanks, first. Got it. “Thank you for this day and the great dessert at Daphne’s.” Her thoughts turned to Reese and Ma Mitchell’s kindness, and Brandon’s giggles, and Lou’s voice. Nothing in this day came on a schedule. The bad …. and the endearing. “Thank you for friends who help when tough things happen and for … happy memories.” She paused, tears pricking the backs of her eyes. What next? “Please help us to have sweet dreams so we’ll be ready to have a great day tomorrow. Amen.”
“Amen,” Lou echoed.
Dee walked from the room, legs as unsteady as her heart. She clasped her fist to her chest and collapsed on the couch as tears squeezed from beneath her closed eyes. From the visit of her mother to a wild night with two children, her emotions swung from one side of the pendulum to another.
But the good outweighed the bad. For the first time in her life, tomorrow wasn’t clouded with the hardened push for Charlottesville or the nagging denial of her hateful past. Her heart’s wearied rhythm steadied into a quiet beat, even tinged with a sense of rare peace. And her prayer? It sounded painfully simple and trite. Did God even listen to lost women like her? Was the temptation of peace a byproduct of her little prayer? Hadn’t the pastor called him the God of lost things? Her thoughts blurred as sleep crowded in with a perfect mix of baby giggles, butterflies, and a dark-eyed cattle farmer.
Reese steppedinto the quiet house, weary from his hour-long battle with Rainey’s tire. One thing led to another, and he had to drive all the way back to Rainey’s house for a different tire. What a stupid way to end a firstrealdate. He succeeded in getting Rainey and Sarah off Peterson road alone at night. That held some satisfaction, at least.
The lamplight sent long shadows across the kitchen into the living room, the house quiet. Reese’s soft footfall from years of hunting in the woods helped him slip down the hall and peek into each room without a squeak from the floorboards. The scent of baby powder and bubbles greeted him from the bathroom as he passed. Both kids slept as sweet as puppies, but there was no hint to the whereabouts of his cute little sitter. Lou wasn’t conniving enough to tie her up or anything yet, was she? He’d heard tales about such mischief—even been accused of it himself as a boy.
A grin slid wide. Good times.
Surely Dee wouldn’t have left them on their own. After all, her car sat in his driveway.
As he walked back down the hall from the bedrooms, a soft whistling stirred from the living room. It drifted toward him in a gentle rhythm, like breathing. A few extra steps forward answered his curiosity, and much more.
Dee’s hair fell in waves of dark and medium brown over the pillow on his couch. An afghan tucked tight against her chin and spread the length of her body, except for a bare foot with red toenails peeping from the bottom. He tiptoed closer, holding his breath, and enjoying the view. He hadn’t laid eyes on anything so beautiful in a long time.
He touched her hair and it slipped between his fingers, soft and silky, calling for another touch. Thoughts of taking it slow died with the same success as they had in the restaurant. Wonder switched with the flint of desire. Heaven help him, the woman slept on his couch, in his house, at night, and smelled like baby powder and apples. Best combination he’d sniffed in years.
His body warmed with the memory of their last kiss and his mind followed suit with new memories he’d like to add. New ones meant more for a wedding night.
One of them needed to get out of the house, quick, or there was sure to be disapproval from The Almighty. He stood and took a step back … for her own good.
“Dee?” His voice barely created a whisper.
She sighed and stretched her arms up, a smile spreading across her sleeping face. His blood shot from simmer to boiling faster than any microwave.
“Woman, you sure ain’t making things easy on this man.”
Her brow puckered and she yawned. “Ain’t is not a word, Reese Mitchell.” She murmured and sat up on the couch, rubbing at her eyes, the blanket fell away to reveal her wrinkled slacks,hisgreen flannel shirt, and a whole lot of pretty white skin from her neckline down to the first button. “And I just took care of your children for you, in case you forgot, so I think I probably made things a whole lot easier for you.”
He jerked her up from the couch and attacked her with a kiss that spoke volumes about his difficulty at the moment. His hands got tangled in her mess of silky hair. Her mouth tasted like coffee and chocolate —definitely not helping his self-control. The way he kissed her should have sent her bolting for the nearest door, but she didn’t seem to understand, because she smiled a lazy smile and slid her hands right around his waist like she wanted more. “You shouldn’t fuss at me about making things more difficult for you. I only wanted to help.”
“I wasn’t talking about the children, darlin’.”
She tilted her head to see him better, the lamp light deepening her eyes. She didn’t have one clue the power she possessed. Praise God for small favors.
“What do you mean?”
He kneaded the flannel against her back and sighed. “I come home and there’s a Sleepin’ Beauty on my couch dressed inmyflannel shirt?” He snuck in another kiss then followed her sweet scent down her neck. Embers stirred to heat in his chest, blazing to full fire. Yep, she was lighting his fire alright. White hot!
Her gasp nearly undid him. He gripped her shoulders and held her at arm’s length.
Her brow puckered till she looked like she might cry. “You think I’m beautiful?”
To be such a smart woman, she sure was stupid sometimes. “So much I’m close to sinning.”
His expression must have cleared things up because her little grin perked up—and rekindled the inferno under his skin. Thankfully, her mercy and good sense kicked in because she pulled away from his grip and pinched the top of his flannel shirt closed around her neck.
It helped—a blessed little. But at the moment, every little bit counted.
“I’m sorry.” But her eyes didn’t hold a hint of apology. “After I gave the kids baths, my blouse was drenched.” She backed toward the hall, expression finally sobering enough to cool down his heart rate from a stampede to a more sensible gallop. “I threw it in the dryer while I waited and …” She shrugged and pushed back a handful of her chocolate-caramel-colored hair. “Fell asleep, I guess.”
