Page 136 of To Belong Together
He shifted, drawing her closer and taking her hand. “When I saw you, I thought for sure you’d find a way to me.”
“Have you seen Awestruck’s bouncers?”
He chuckled. “I doubt anyone could stop you if you put your mind to it. That’s one of the things I like about you.”
She’d love to grill him about what else he liked, but that was her old need for validation trying to interrupt. She refused to sacrifice the conversation to it. She’d lost too much time with John as it was. “Maybe there was a way to you, but I did get a new perspective. I realized you needed God’s help more than you needed anything from me. So I left.”
“And you’ve been hanging out here.”
“God’s everywhere, but I have this idea that He was close to Dad while he was stuck out here, and I feel like I can sense Him more clearly here too.”
John seemed to take a moment to consider that. “I’m glad God came through.”
“He always does.”
“Unlike me.”
“John.”
His shoulder lifted from hers in a brief shrug. “When you implied I didn’t talk to you enough, you were right. I failed to tell you clearly enough how I feel about you.” He angled toward her and touched her cheek. Even in the dim light, she could see the intensity of his focus on her. “You’re talented, spirited, and I’ve been attracted to you since that first morning we met. To me, you are the beautiful option.”
The words sank deep, warm in the cold night. To think that, not so long ago, she’d believed no one besides her dad could accept her for who she was. But was this the first step to depending on John’s acceptance the way she’d once depended on Dad’s? “I’m not sure I’m supposed to enjoy hearing that so much. I’m supposed to be relying on God.”
“Take the compliment.” He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. “Just remember that whatever care I show for you, it’s only a flawed imitation of how God loves you. He’s the only one we can really depend on.”
She gulped down emotion at the picture. Before John, He’d used her dad to represent His love. She’d just been so focused on Dad she hadn’t looked beyond him to truly appreciate her place with her Heavenly Father. Whatever came of her relationship with John, she wouldn’t repeat that mistake.
John drew a slow breath. “That’s what I’ve been realizing myself—that I can depend on God. I’ve been living like an outcast who had to protect himself, but instead, I’m called to look for ways to love people, trusting that when anyone—myself included—fails, He won’t.”
To think walking away from the Awestruck concert had felt like a leap of faith. Here she was on the other side, finding God had answered her prayer swiftly and completely. Joy lifted a grin to her lips.
John touched her cheek. Instead of leaning in closer as she thought he might, he rose. “Can I have that dance we missed? At the reception?”
She hesitated to take the hand he offered. Was it possible to rewind to that night and start over where everything had veered off course?
“Please?” He extended his hand another inch.
Folds in her jacket straightened as she stood, sending cold trickles of water over her jeans. “I still have no rhythm.”
“I’ll share.” He gathered her with his casted arm around her waist, his right hand holding hers against his chest.
He moved as if the rain were a slow song and the watery grass, a dance floor.
She kicked his foot, and he kissed her cheek. Her shoe bumped his again. He lowered his mouth to hers for a kiss that tasted like fresh, clean rain. Spring had finally come. A new beginning that would lead to better things because of all they’d been through.
42
John opened the door, and his dogs sprinted inside, panting from running circles around him and Erin as they’d walked in the woods on his property. He’d spent an hour taking a hairdryer to the cast the night before, but to no avail. He’d gone to the doctor that morning. His attempt to talk them into letting him go without a cast a week early had been unsuccessful, so a new hunk of plaster encased his arm. On the way back to his house, he’d picked up Erin as she’d finished her workday.
Ever since, he’d been looking for the right moment to confess something he hadn’t last night, hence the hike. But he hadn’t found a good opening for the words yet.
Would he ever?
He’d already missed the perfect opportunity. Thinking they had more time while dancing in the rain, he’d kissed her instead of speaking. While he couldn’t bring himself to regret the kiss, the next thing he’d known, she’d started shivering.
He’d insisted she wait in his still-warm car, the heat blasting, while her own vehicle came up to temperature. What he’d wanted to say ran through his mind on repeat, but by then he’d realized he shouldn’t add what he hoped would be a significant milestone for their relationship to a place so related to the loss of her father.
If only she had let him drive her home, he might have found another opportunity, but she’d argued that leaving her car so far from town would be impractical.
