Page 60 of A Twist of Faith
She stopped his forward momentum with a hand to his chest. “I don’t know anything about being a mother.” Dee pinched her eyes closed. Did she just admit it out loud? “Nothing good—which you probably already figured out from my poor diaper changing experience.”
She squinted open her eyes.
Reese pulled back and scrunched his brows. “Alright?”
Might as well get everything out in the open. “And I really don’t want to be a farmer’s wife.”
Instead of shock, like she’d expected, his lips spread into an easy grin. “I like your train of thought, darlin’.”
“What?” She studied his face and then recognized her mistake. “I mean, not that you’re even thinking of me as a possible wife, but if you were it could never—”
He closed off her words with a finger to her lips. “You worry too much, Doc.” His thumb skimmed over her cheek, weighing her eyelids closed again. “How about we just take this one day at a time, instead of charging off into matrimony?” Oh sweet heaven, the man’s voice held aphrodisiac qualities. “I’m not in a hurry unless you are.”
Her eyes shot wide at the assumption. “I am not—”
He winked, clearly having way too much fun with her discomfort.
“No, I’m not in a hurry toward matrimony.” She ducked under his arm marched to the trunk of her car. Her face cooled by slow degrees and … distance from the source of her constant hot flashes. “Nor am I in a hurry for frequent moonlit kisses.”
“Well, I wouldn’t agree with you there.”
He stopped her against the car with a surprise kiss. If she’d been a sensible woman, she wouldn’t have wrapped her free arm around his waist to ensure he finished properly. However, once his lips met hers, sensibility fled about as far as thoughts of Charlottesville. Well, she was tutoring him after all, and practicedidmake perfect.
The crunch of gravel of a passing car alerted her to the horrifying revelation that she still stood in a very publicuniversityparking lot with her lips locked to one of the local bachelors. She pushed Reese away, and shot a glance to the front of her department building. What was she thinking! Clearly, she wasn’t thinking. The withering glance she shot to her charming assailant only deepened his self-satisfied grin.
She released an annoyed sigh as she slid past him and opened her trunk to block the view of his face. She needed time to slow down her rapid-fire breathing and act like the only adult in close proximity at the moment. With a renewed fervor to keep something solid between her and Reese, she heaved a crate of books from the trunk and peeked around the trunk. Reese’s cockeyed grin proved he wore a shame proof vest and still had kissing on his brain.
Her face flushed with heat again.
“Well since you’re so interested in my wants and needs right now, I can’t carry a cup of coffee and hold this crate, so would you carry my coffee?”
Reese ambled forward, shaking his head. “Nope.” He slid the crate from her hands with one arm and shoved his cup at her. “I’ll get the crate and you carry the coffee.”
Her slow smile answered his before he fell in step beside her. “You know, Dee, mothering can be a learned skill?”
She took a drink of her coffee, uncertain how to respond. What if she had a predisposition for being a poor mother? Exposure to the Mitchells cast a glaring light on her imperfections and assumptions. If she hurt one of his sweet children like her mother had done, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself.
“And should something like matrimonyeverhappen.” He lengthened the wordeverto obviously get her attention. “I can already tell you’re going to be fine. Just in case you’re wonderin’. Children are just looking for someone to love them, not be perfect. They don’t have much use for perfect parents.”
Even with his tinge of humor, little comfort came from his words. The last few weeks brought her father’s inconsistencies to light along with her mother’s. Did Dee even knowhowto love anyone? Her father’s lists ofrightness. Her mother’s obvious rebellion. Clarity nailed deep from the preacher’s sermon. Thetwolost sons lived in her broken, childhood home. How could she possibly know where she belonged or how she’d respond when she found it?
Reese stopped her with a hand to her arm. “You don’t have to keep runnin’, you know? You can trust me.”
She forced a raw reply, splintered. “I know.”
He hesitated, as if gauging her sincerity, and then saved her from further embarrassment. “So, are we taking these to your office?”
Dee held open the door for him to pass, measuring her breaths to maintain control. Her heart rushed through enough emotions to fuel reality TV. Somehow between her job offer and the current moment, she’d resorted to the emotional level of a preteen during a sugar crash. A good cry and a box of chocolate fit the order for the moment. “Um … no, I’m donating them to the nursing department. They’re collecting medical books. I had a few from college.”
“Well, I’ll take them on up then.”
“I have some more in my bag here, so I’ll walk with you.” Dee bypassed the elevator and made a direct line for the stairwell.
“Whoa there, little lady. Nursing is on the fourth floor.” Reese gestured toward the crate with his chin. “Let’s take the elevator.”
“I don’t take elevators.”
He settled the crate against his hip. “You don’t take elevators?”
