The Small Town Preacher's Fake - Lucy McConnell Page 0,20
given what’s-her-name. She’d gotten married first. Take that!
He blinked several times. “Really?”
She bristled at his level of shock. “Yes, really.”
“Th-that’s great news.”
She folded her arms and regarded him with distrust. “You seem surprised.”
“Yeah—I mean …” He scratched his nose. “It hasn’t been that long since we …”
She snorted and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “It only seems like I found someone fast because, unlike you, I waited until I was actually single to start dating.”
“Low blow,” he mumbled.
“The truth never hits below the belt, Owen.” Her words were full of venom and vim that surprised even her. Where was this coming from? She wasn’t the type of person to have an argument in the middle of a store. She looked around, hoping no one was watching the preacher’s wife tell off a man she used to date.
The phrase What would Jesus do? ran through her head five times before she was able to get a handle on her snarling thoughts. It was like a large, black guard dog lived inside of her, and the only one it ever wanted to tear to pieces was Owen. She worked to get the animal under control.
Owen kept talking, “I mean, I guess I’m more surprised that you were able to find someone who could handle your quirks.”
“What quirks?” she demanded. I’m trying, Jesus, I really am. I get credit for that, right?
“You know, the ones that drove me crazy. It was why I started dating—” His phone rang, and he was cut off. After answering, he pointed to the phone and mouthed, I have to take this, before walking away.
She glared after him. “Great to see you again, jerk.” She flipped around and stormed to the bath section of the store and stared at the towels.
What quirks? She didn’t consider herself a peculiar person. In fact, she was one of the steadiest people she knew. She didn’t run out and party on the weekends. When she gave her word, she followed through. And if there was a cat struck in a tree, she’d climb up after it. Which she had actually done on one of her and Owen’s first dates.
Oooh. Thooooose quirks.
When she’d hopped down with the frightened feline in her arms, Owen called her his Superwoman. But … maybe it was a peculiar thing to do on a date. She hadn’t even thought about it at the time. Someone needed help, even if that someone had fur and a tail, and she’d jumped at the chance to take care of her neighbor. She couldn’t leave the poor thing up there.
Her body sagged. Had she really driven Owen into the arms of another woman?
Not that she absolved him of his crime of cheating; that one was on Jesus to take care of. But was she really that bad to be around, that hard to commit to?
And if so, what chance did she have at keeping Seth happy for the rest of their lives? Without a physical relationship …
She tried to focus on the towel options. They had any stripe of the rainbow to choose from. Several sherbet colors caught her eye, as did a Hawaiian print. They had a few of those left, with huge flowers on them in beautiful reds, pinks, and sunset orange. She reached for one, her hand stopping just before making contact with the fluffy fabric. Owen would have told her to pick something neutral that would last longer because brighter colors went out of style faster. His voice mocked her.
She reached for the drab, tan bath mat and matching wash clothes. Playing it safe was better. Seth had joked about using pink, but she wouldn’t make him do that. She would have, before she’d run into Owen, but there were parts of her that she could curb in order to make this marriage last. Seth was a good man, and she would respect him.
They were just starting out, but she seriously questioned her ability to make this marriage work. First, she’d embarrassed Seth in front of Mr. White by joking at the funeral. Then, she’d gone and picked those chipped plates he didn’t want—he’d told her they were too broken, and she’d bought them anyway.
The tan towels were the best choice.
Chapter Nine
Evie
Evie’s first Sunday was what she’d expected: lots of curious looks, questions, and introductions. She’d managed to not embarrass herself or Seth by keeping her mouth shut and listening a lot. Which was good. The congregation was made up of over-65-year-olds who were happy to chat