The Small Town Preacher's Fake - Lucy McConnell Page 0,7
man assume she was getting married on a rebound like Maisie did? “Yes?” she replied carefully.
He stuck out his hand. “Seth Powell. I think we should consolidate our forms.”
She stared at his hand for a half second longer than was polite. “You’re Seth? A pastor?”
He nodded and looked at his still-empty hand.
“Oh!” She reached out and shook hands with him. A sense of well-being and peace flooded her at contact and soothed the troubled waters of her mind. Like she was right where she was supposed to be. “Sorry. I was expecting someone …”
“Older?”
“More pastor-ish.” Her hand grew warm inside of his, and she reluctantly pulled it away, handing him her clipboard. “Sorry. It’s just—my pastor had gray hair and a gold tooth.”
He gave her a shrewd look before he ducked his head and filled in his half of the information. “You’d marry someone with gray hair?”
“Well, I figured if I got here and he was that old, I could run away and he couldn’t catch me.”
He burst out laughing, and the tension inside of her released.
She ducked her head. “Sometimes I say things I should probably keep inside.”
“Please don’t. You’re delightful.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know many men who use the word delightful.” She pulled her lips in. There she went, saying things before she thought them through.
“I hosted bingo night with a lot of old women. Picking up their slang is an occupational hazard.”
She giggled. “Are there others I should know about?”
“That’s the worst of it.” He playfully swiped at his brow.
She smiled, feeling both at ease and slightly out of her comfort zone. Seth wasn’t what she’d pictured. He was way better than the middle-aged pastor in her head.
His youth and fun personality also came with a few difficulties. She liked him. Liked him enough that she could make him her best friend. “I think I can live with being delightful.”
The door to the judge’s chambers whooshed open, flooding the room with pomp and purpose. All joking faded under the stern gaze of the judge. They were ushered inside the small room with a large desk.
When Seth took her hand for the ceremony, a sense of belonging filled her soul. The certainty didn’t last for long as Seth was told he could “kiss the bride.” She panicked. Not because she didn’t want to kiss him, but because she did.
He bent down and gave her a chaste kiss, their lips barely brushing. Heat flooded her entire body, and her knees went weak. She clutched his hands for support and chastened herself. Of all the times to go goo-goo over a guy, she had to pick her wedding day.
Chapter Four
Seth
“I know it’s a mess, but I’m not afraid of hard work.” Seth wanted to reach out and touch Evie’s arm in condolence or support or just to make sure she didn’t run away. But he’d found out that touching her made his head go blank—kissing her had almost knocked him over. So he refrained.
They’d driven separately to the small house behind the church. He’d hoped to soften the run-down look with words of promise as he painted a picture of their future together.
She looked like she wanted to hide in the bushes.
“Confession? I haven’t been inside.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “The board promised it was livable.”
She smiled indulgently. “They just said that so you’d take the job.”
His chest warmed. She’d been nothing but grace since the moment they’d met. He couldn’t believe that her good spirits would last. His experience with women told him that the sunshine eventually dimmed.
She did have a unique quality about her, though, something deep and abiding that spoke to his very soul. He hoped he learned to trust it, to trust her, over time. What he felt, more than anything else in this moment, was that he’d married far above his station in life.
Dear Lord, I hope you aren’t mad at me for this.
Everything about Evie, from the elegant tilt to her nose to the softness in her touch, said that she was one of God’s chosen women.
“That’s kind of you,” he said, unsure how much of the trepidation of his job situation he should share with her. How much sharing would cause her to run for the hills? “But I’m still not sure they want me here. Being married to you will improve their opinion of me greatly.”
She put her hand on her hip. “Aww, what a sweet thing to say.”
He flushed—deeply.
She turned to face the front of the