Page 81 of A Surefire Love
Maybe she was bluffing to get information. “I’m not sure she’d appreciate you saying that.”
“She said I could.” Mercy stepped back into the living room.
She wore her Rooted hoodie. Ten to fifteen remained in the box in his office, so hers was just one of about forty in circulation. Some who’d bought them when he’d first ordered didn’t even attend Many Oaks Bible Church anymore, and who knew how many kids had given theirs away. Tracking them all down was out of the question.
Mercy cocked her head, staring at him.
At a loss, he rubbed his hands and prayed for Blaze to appear. “Blaze is awake?”
Mercy crossed her arms, staring at him. “Mm-hm.”
Footfalls on the stairs saved him. Blaze stepped into the living room, beaming. A gust of emotion tempted him to close the gap between them and wrap her in his arms.
Mercy turned toward her sister. “We can still make pancakes, right?”
Blaze’s smile faltered. She laid a hand on Mercy’s shoulder but stayed focused on him. “Is everything okay?”
“Ah, no.” He hadn’t considered that he might be the one to break the news. The fire had been so big, people from the surrounding neighborhood had crowded along the barricades, watching and posting on social media. “There was a fire last night. At the church. I haven’t slept.”
Was that last one an important fact? He cleared his throat and pulled his phone from his pocket. A few taps later, he passed the device to Blaze, a video of the church playing.
Mercy pressed against her arm, gaping at the screen.
Blaze inhaled sharply. “Oh, no. This is …” She watched a couple more seconds. “This is a huge fire. I can’t believe it. What happened? Some kind of electrical short?”
“It’s a long story.” He rubbed his temple.
“And you’ve been up all night.”
He nodded.
Blaze looked at her sister, then focused soft eyes on him. “Have you eaten?”
He shook his head.
“We make delicious pancakes.” Mercy bounced ahead of them to the kitchen.
Blaze passed the phone back. The joy she’d shown on seeing him had disappeared, replaced by concern. “I agreed to pancakes before you got here, but I can ask her to take a raincheck. We can talk instead.”
“It’s okay with me if she hears the story of the fire if it’s okay with you. The little we know will be all over town before lunch anyway.” He caught her hand, no longer able to tolerate distance. “She knows about us?”
“She guessed. We can swear her to secrecy. Or try, anyway.”
He couldn’t muster concern about whether that would work. People at church would have enough to talk about with the fire. They wouldn’t care about their youth pastor’s dating life. For now.
“Hey.” Blaze touched his cheek, and he refocused. She frowned, then wrapped her arms around his waist. With herhead resting on his chest, he managed to take a few peaceful breaths.
When she pulled back, she went up on her toes to kiss his cheek. He’d come to the right place. She tugged his hand, and he followed her to the kitchen.
A large measuring bowl sat on the counter peninsula. Mercy had piled bags of flour and sugar and a carton of milk beside it. She consulted a recipe card, then whirled around like a tornado, sucking up the additional ingredients and spilling them onto the work surface.
“Do this a lot?” he asked.
“Yup.” Mercy skidded in her stocking feet. “Just sit down while we make the magic happen.”
Blaze spared him an amused smile, then joined her sister.
Anson took a seat on one of the stools across the counter from where they worked. “If you put the ingredients in, I’ll stir. How about that?”
