Dreaming of His Pen Pal's Kiss - Jessie Gussman Page 0,52
was thinking a Jeep or a pickup—Blakely seemed like the type—but he’d take a golf cart.
“Um...how severe was that phobia that you mentioned earlier?” Journee asked, very hesitantly.
Her tone made his eyes slash to hers, and he noted the crinkling of her brows and the way she bit her lip.
Actually, he got a little distracted by the way she bit her lip.
He hadn’t impressed her, hadn’t done anything that might make her choose to be with him, other than maybe make her laugh.
Still, he was almost certain that it would be better in the long run if he didn’t lie to her, or deceive her, or let her think for one second that he was something he wasn’t or that football wasn’t going to be the most important thing in his life, during the season at least.
It had to be.
Obviously, she didn’t like that. He didn’t know any player’s wife who liked that.
Part of him hoped she’d choose him anyway, and part of him thought that he’d gotten along without a family so far throughout his life, so he didn’t really need one.
He thought about being in the hospital and the fear of being alone.
And part of him thought that the game wasn’t going to last forever, and maybe he should work on building something that would.
“Are you thinking? Or did you forget the question?” Journee asked, snapping his attention back to the present.
“Phobia. Horse.” His eyes narrowed as comprehension began to dawn. “Why are you asking?”
“Because Blakely’s ride for us...is a horse.” Her face expressed concern, but she also bounced a little on her toes, like she was kind of in a hurry. And he got that. The couple who got done first wasn’t necessarily the winner, but they were almost guaranteed to not be the loser. And since that was pretty much all they had going for them at the present time, he got the rush.
Although she had made a nice Christmas tree out of the ornaments.
“You’re kidding,” he said, even though he knew she wasn’t. It was Blakely, after all, and even though he’d only met her a couple of times, he should have known that she would have provided a horse. “What about the golf cart? Do you think we could borrow it?”
Journee looked over, but she was already shaking her head. The golf cart was being driven away by a kid who looked like he was about five. “I’m pretty sure they’re not going to share.”
“Seriously? Is this a Christian festival? Maybe now would be a really good time for a short sermon on biblical communication.”
The worry on Journee’s face melted away into a grin. “I’m impressed. You used the biblical term for sharing.”
“Sunday School. Some of those lessons are hard to forget.”
“I’m sure that’s probably the way they meant it. All the cookies and juice they fed you had a tendency to make things stick.”
“Bribe the kids with food. Is that a universal Christian thing? Is that a verse in the Bible they didn’t have us memorize?”
“The Bible does do an awful lot of talking about food. So, maybe.” Her face scrunched again. “Should we jog?”
He judged the distance to the copse of trees. It was pretty far. Then his gaze went back to the horse.
“I thought you said Blakely did trick riding? Isn’t this like a high-dollar horse? Could we hurt it?”
“No. I don’t think Blakely would ever let anyone ride Candy or Kisses. But she and Martin have several other horses they’re training, and this is one of those.”
“So this is like a half-broke horse?”
“Isn’t that a book?” Journee said, totally distracted from the subject at hand.
“Focus.” He waited for her eyes to meet his. “Am I going to fall off the horse? Or is it going to do something else that will hurt?”
“I don’t think so,” Journee said in a tone that did not convince him of anything other than the fact that he probably was going to fall off.
“Could you say that in a little more reassuring tone and maybe add a blood promise on the end of that. It would make me feel better.”
“How about I just sing a silly Christmas song? That’s what I got while facing my phobia?”
“Really? How about the whole do-unto-others thing? You know, act with your Christian beliefs instead of throwing my faults and failures in my face every time we disagree.”
“So, we have a double standard. I get silly songs, and you want promises.”
“You know what. Never mind. I’ll ride the horse. And