weeks to say the right thing at the right time, do the right thing, be the kind of woman a preacher would be proud to marry. In one touch of the lips, her guard had come down and she’d heaped herself upon him as surely as if she’d thrown herself into his lap.
No wonder he’d kissed and run.
Maybe she was the opposite of a man magnet. She sniffed her arm, wondering if her vanilla lotion had repellant in the chemicals. Or, more likely, the chemicals in the lotion reacted with her body to have the effect. Some women drew men to them like they were made of honey and sugar water. Not her.
She sighed and went slowly into the house, stopping at Seth’s half-open door. The desire to be nearer to him, even in his absence, drew her into the forbidden space. She stood in the middle of the old carpet and turned in a slow circle. There wasn’t much in here by way of personal things. No family pictures. No awards. His diploma hung in his office at the church. There were images of Christ, the kind that brought comfort and peace. One depicted Him offering His hand to a drowning man done in stunning blues and whites.
She picked up a rock he’d placed on the nightstand, rolling it in her palm. “Like a little boy,” she mused.
Her thoughts turned to the few things he’d said about his past. About the absent parents and rough upbringing. She stared down at the smooth rock. Somewhere inside of Seth was a little boy who still felt alone, lonely, and unworthy.
She closed her eyes and offered a prayer. “God. Seth needs love—the Jesus kind that fills the holes in a cracked and damaged soul, not the kind that makes me want to bury my fingers in his hair and … well. I don’t know if I have the strength or the courage to love like that when I feel like this. …” Her words trailed off as she thought of the damage Owen had done to her by cheating, the crushing weight of betrayal she still carried. “Help me,” she whispered. “So I can help him.”
She stood there for a moment, waiting for an answer, a path. Nothing became clear. But she did feel the peace that came from knowing God had heard her words. She set the rock down and patted it once.
Feeling stronger, and maybe even a might bit braver, she headed to the kitchen to make some rolls. Seth would come back, and she wanted him to feel welcome. Her mom said that two things made people feel at home: a clean space and the smell of fresh bread.
They’d eventually have to face the kiss, but she really didn’t want it to become a one-time thing, so she opted not to confront him with it when he walked through the door.
A kiss like that? That kiss was the kind that could carry her throughout eternity, and she wanted to share them again and again. Maybe, in time, they could …
She scolded herself. What she wanted wasn’t important. She needed to stay focused on what the Lord would want for Seth.
Healing. Jesus love. That was where her mind needed to stay focused.
And if he kissed her again?
She bit her lip. That was a temptation she wouldn’t be able to withstand, so the Lord had better not put it in front of her. That was all she had to say about that.
Chapter Fifteen
Seth
The church summer picnic was well underway and a roaring success, if the number of wheelchairs on the lawn was any indication. Seth had mowed and edged and fertilized and watered until he’d put St. Patrick’s Day to shame with all this green.
The flower beds were awash in color—thanks to Evie’s dedication. She’d even planted rosebushes in the barest spot of the yard. They bloomed with unabashed brazenness in red and pink. He’d asked her about yellow while they were standing in the local greenhouse, and she’d wrinkled her nose in the cutest way. “Roses should be red or pink. Maybe white if they have to be.”
He’d thought it was funny, the way she had an opinion about the color of things. Not funny like he wanted to laugh at her, but funny like watching a baby goat hop over a log: so adorable you wanted to scoop her up and hug her and laugh all at the same time, just because they made you feel happy.
His face flushed.