Divine Interruption

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Divine Interruption Page 6

by Amy Lyon


  Her heart melted, but she couldn’t let herself be derailed by his charm. “The point is, my career gives me a purpose. And those people I work with, they’re like the only family I’ve got.”

  “Except they’re not the only family you’ve got.”

  Andi tapped her fingertips on the table. He was relentless. “What do you suggest I do? Give up everything I’ve worked for and, what, move to Mimosa Key with no job?”

  His eyebrow quirked as if to say that was exactly what he was suggesting, and that ticked her off. “Well, it’s not that easy for everyone. You may have this perfectly packaged life and family, but...” She trailed off as she heard her own words and instantly regretted them. What did she know about his life? “I’m lashing out. I’m sorry.”

  Matt again took both of her hands and turned her right wrist over to examine her tattoo.

  “Now—” she pulled her hands back and the napkin from her lap “—I’m ready for that walk on the beach.”

  When they reached the end of the boardwalk that led from Junonia to the beach, Andi slipped out of her sandals and dropped them in the sand. She pointed to Matt’s feet. “Kick off your shoes...”

  “And fall in love,” Matt supplied, quoting the motto that appeared on signs all around Casa Blanca Resort and Spa.

  Her face grew hot and she set off walking a few steps ahead of him, not wanting him to witness the silly grin that pulled at her cheeks. She recalled the sensible plan she’d made earlier at her mom’s house. She’d avoid him until she left in the morning, slowly return to her normal life, and allow her feelings for him to fade. But that would have to start tomorrow. Tonight, she couldn’t concentrate to save her life.

  Behind her, the heat of those electric blue eyes burned into her back, and when she glanced over her shoulder, his gaze melted into hers. They walked along the beach for several minutes, a heartbeat apart, then he caught up with her.

  “I want to know more about you.” He grasped her arm and stopped her, gently turning her to face him. “Tell me something. One of your secrets.”

  “Seriously?”

  He nodded and his boyish face took on a ruggedly handsome quality with evening whiskers peeking out.

  “Nothing to tell,” she said, purposely coy. “I’m an open book.”

  Matt lowered himself to the sand and tugged her hand to pull her to sit next to him. “Everyone has something to share and we’ve barely scratched the surface.”

  And I’m leaving in the morning, so what’s the point?

  He ran one fingertip up and down her bare arm, then stopped at her wrist. “You could tell me about this tattoo.” He turned her hand over. “I have to admit my Spanish is a little rusty, but mente sobre la materia means ‘mind over matter’, right?”

  Heat rushed to her face again. “Correct,” she said, her eyes fixed on the ocean and how she wanted to dive into the break of one of those waves to cool herself off.

  “So?”

  She gave a choked laugh. “Just a little teenage angst combined with a tattoo shop that didn’t check IDs.” She shrugged. “Not the best combination.”

  Matt traced the letters with his thumb. “Do you believe it? That you can have mind over matter?”

  She bristled. Obviously she believed it at one time. She had the words permanently inked on her wrist, for crying out loud. But she wasn’t so certain anymore. “I guess I was naive enough to think so, but lately, matter seems to have a mind of its own.”

  A throaty sound escaped him and his touch was warm as his fingertips traced the letters. She dared to meet his intense gaze. Even in the fading light his eyes were so deep and assessing that she had to look away or drown in them.

  His thumb continued its tracing. “Why Spanish?”

  “You’re full of questions tonight, aren’t you?”

  His lips curled. “There’s more where those came from.”

  She breathed deep, allowing her hand to rest in his, then shifted a little closer to him to bridge the awkward gap. “All right, nosy,” she said. “Here’s the short version. My grandfather was born in Mexico and was ashamed of his upbringing. His family was rice-and-beans poor, and when he came to the United States and married, he changed his last name from Morales to Morgan. My dad was very proud of his heritage and spoke fluent Spanish. He insisted that I be strong and have mind over matter.” She held up her wrist, then laid it back down in his palm. “It seemed appropriate to get this tattoo when he left us.”

  Matt’s grip on her tightened. “When you were fifteen, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “Tough age.”

  “Tough at any age,” she countered. “Thankfully this tattoo was the extent of my rebelliousness.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Andi felt his sympathy wrap around her heart. She looked out at the ocean again and marveled at the universe’s humor. Friends were forever trying to piece together a better life for her by arranging dates with guys who were perfect for her. A common thread ran through all of those dates—she’d never felt a connection with one of the men. She glanced at Matt’s well-defined profile and felt how perfectly their hands fit together.

  Oh, there was a connection with him all right. She’d felt the surge of energy between them that first day when she shook his strong hand and he teased her about being late. The feelings only intensified the more time they spent together.

  And I’m leaving in the morning.

  The irony wasn’t lost on her.

  But there was a powerful undertow urging her to go deeper with him and explore the possibility that maybe this wasn’t how or where their story should end.

  “I’m glad you have a relationship with him.”

  Andi’s lips formed the W to ask who, but she quickly recalled their conversation. Of course. Her father.

  “I’ve forgiven him,” she said, numb to the subject. “When it comes to my father, I really do have mind over matter mastered.”

  His sideways glance said he didn’t buy her story, so she filled the silence to keep him from challenging her.

  “Your turn. Tell me your story.” Her leg brushed his as she faced him fully. “Why’d you decide to become a pastor?”

  “The short version?”

  Andi shrugged. “Or the long.” She could listen to the deep rumble of his voice all night. There was a huskiness that came into it when he talked about himself, making it clear that he preferred to be on the receiving end of information.

  And as she expected, he gave her a formal overview of his upbringing in the church, his decision to major in Religious Studies at Florida State University and the subsequent calling he felt to become a pastor. At Knox Theological Seminary, one of his instructors inspired him to pursue a pastoral internship.

  Andi clucked her tongue. “That’s the resume version. Next time add a little feeling.”

  Matt laughed, the deep, rich sound filling the air. “It’s really that simple.” He leaned back on his hands. “I’ve always wanted to encourage and support people in their spiritual journeys. Naturally, as a pastor, I have a platform to gather the stories of how God has come through in peoples’ lives and pass those on.” He winked. “That’s the legacy that really matters.”

  Andi’s heart lurched. “I’d like to hear more of those stories,” she said softly, aware of how he’d leaned in and how close they were.

  “Stick around for awhile and you will.” He turned his body to face her and moved even closer.

  Andi sucked in a breath and her whole body became filled with waiting, anticipation making her light-headed.

  “I don’t want you to leave,” he said, his voice calm and his gaze steady. He reached up to hold her cheek in his palm. “The first moment I saw you...”

  He trailed off and she closed her eyes. Don’t say it.

  “In this short time we’ve spent together...” he continued.

  She leaned into his hand and tried to commit his touch to memory. “I know,” she whispered. She never wanted to
forget this.

  “Hang out a few more days. Stay at your mom’s. Help her get things in order—” his thumb caressed her cheek “—spend more time with me.”

  She gazed into his eyes. “That would only prolong the inevitable.”

  “So let’s prolong the inevitable—”

  “Sshhh.” She put her finger to his lips. He reached up with his other hand to take her wrist, then lowered her arm to her side.

  “Don’t shush me,” he said with quiet emphasis and she felt the warmth of his breath on her cheek.

  “Sshhh,” she playfully hissed back at him. He took that as an invitation to, first, kiss her with his eyes. The soul-crushing gaze closed the gap between them. Then his lips slowly, thoughtfully touched hers, sending electrical pulses to the pit of her stomach and beyond.

  Raising his mouth, he searched her eyes. “Stay.”

  A small whimper escaped her throat and that was all she got out before his lips brushed hers again. She’d protest in a minute. Let him know she was serious, she had to go back, and he’d have to fade away...eventually. Right now, though, she was lost in the moment and couldn’t imagine how she would ever will her legs to walk away from him.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Andrea’s mind was made up. That much was clear by the way she purposefully swung open the door to the Casa Blanca lobby. Matt followed her in, hoping for one more kiss, but she turned her head at the last second to offer her cheek.

  “Really?” he grumbled as he brushed his lips across her face.

  She gave him a chaste hug and patted his shoulder. “We’ll talk soon,” she said without meeting his gaze.

  He stood there with his hands on his hips as she headed toward the elevator.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow after we get your mom settled,” he called after her.

  She pressed the elevator call button, then leaned her back against the wall as she faced him from the safety of several long strides away. “Or just send a text.”

  Matt grunted and crossed his arms over his chest. Something had changed the minute they slipped on their shoes and stepped back onto the boardwalk. Before that... his heart drummed in his chest at the memory of his lips on hers. They’d walked hand in hand back to the resort like they had all the time in the world. Now she was rushing away like there was nothing between them.

  Actually, there was plenty between them. About twenty feet.

  The elevator dinged, the doors slid open and she stepped into the empty car. Just before the doors closed, she winked. Matt felt the stab to his heart. It also firmed his resolve.

  This wasn’t the end of them, but rather the beginning. A rough, unfair beginning that had her flying eighteen-hundred miles away in the morning. He’d hatch a plan to get her back down here, and then he’d never let her go again.

  He shoved his hands into his pockets and turned to the door. The definition of maturity was being able to delay pleasure. He felt like a child. He wanted her in his arms and he wanted her now. A tantrum was brewing just below the surface, so in his head he said a frustrated prayer and regrouped right there in the Casa Blanca lobby.

  Tomorrow he’d help his mother move Millie into Circles of Care and afterward he’d call Andi with a progress report. Hearing her voice would have to be enough. For now.

  Back home, his sleep was fitful as he fought with alternating thoughts. First, that he was an idiot for letting Andi walk away; and second, he was an idiot for thinking he could make her want to stay.

  Bottom line: he was an idiot.

  He’d flat-out asked her to stay and the fact that she left him so easily in the lobby made him wonder if she didn’t feel as much for him as he did for her. Or maybe she was going home to someone else.

  He shook his head. Not possible. She’d kissed him back. In the moonlight, he saw the fire in her eyes. There was plenty between them.

  Sadly, it wasn’t enough to keep her here.

  * * *

  Andi was back in the lobby at eight the next morning, her boots clomping across the marble tile floor. She turned in her room key and settled the bill. As she turned to leave, the receptionist handed her an envelope.

  “This was left for you last night,” she said.

  Her pulse picked up as she moved away from the desk and peeled the seal apart. She unfolded the enclosed slip of paper and read:

  Andrea’s To-Do List

  1. Drive safely to the airport

  2. Relax on the plane by remembering last night at the beach

  3. Unpack and get to bed early

  4. Plan your next trip to Mimosa Key... I’m waiting.

  Matt had signed his name at the bottom with a heart coming off the last T, and Andi’s own heart lurched. On her way to the parking lot, she nearly ran into two guests and tripped off the edge of the sidewalk as she re-read his message. She’d drive safely, but not to the airport. She’d remember last night at the beach, but not on the plane. She’d have to unpack at her mom’s house and with any luck she’d get to bed early. But as for planning her next trip to Mimosa Key, that was already done.

  Inside the rental car, her hands wrapped tightly around the steering wheel and her palms burned with the memories of him. She closed her eyes and touched her fingertips to her lips as a surge of energy tingled up her body. She’d never felt anything so electrifying in her life as his kiss.

  Oh, but she would feel that again. She had to feel that again. Even if it meant delaying her return home by a few more days.

  Last night, she decided she’d put her family first for once. She texted Angel as soon as she got back to her room. An immediate weight lifted from her. The text was longer than she’d intended, telling Angel of her plans to get her mother settled into Circles of Care and assuring her she would have no trouble getting the Spring Fling cover in by Thursday.

  What she didn’t tell Angel was that she’d also be prolonging the inevitable with Matt.

  Driving on Center Street, she passed Hibiscus and her mother’s house and continued on toward Hope Presbyterian. Matt told her last night he needed to be at work early and her pulse kicked up at the thought of surprising him. She parked next to his truck, crossed the parking lot, took the stairs two at a time, and grabbed the entrance handle. The door got away from her again and the wood banged against the railing.

  She cringed, then looked up quickly, half expecting Matt to be towering over her. But the foyer was empty. She followed the signs to the office and was greeted by large, round, black-rimmed spectacles peering over the receptionist’s desk. The older woman behind the glasses eased to a standing position, which wasn’t much higher than the desk.

  “Help ya?”

  Andi’s eyes locked on the woman’s tangerine-colored lipstick that closely mimicked two slices of an orange peel. “Is Matt... er, Pastor Cooke in?”

  The woman shook her head and her tight gray curls bounced with the movement. “Just missed him. Took the old folks to their seniors breakfast. Whole busload of ’em.” Her bottom lip quivered slightly when she spoke and Andi was sure she recognized the woman from somewhere.

  She checked the time on her phone and scanned the room. “Do you know when he’ll be back?”

  “Mmmmm. Not today.” She eyed Andi. “Busy boy. Helping one of our members move into a home.”

  Andi bristled at the word home. “Yes, Millie.” She put her hand to her chest. “I’m her daughter.”

  The woman’s translucent face lit up and those bright lips formed a perfect O. “Gloria St. Germaine,” she said and extended her hand. “Andrea, right? Yes, Matt told me all about you.”

  “He did?” What did he say?

  “Yes, yes. You haven’t been here to visit and you knew nothing about Millie’s condition till you got here.”

  “Oh,” Andi grumbled. Maybe she didn’t want to know more.

  But Gloria prattled on. “He was pretty down in the dumps this morning and now I see why.” She winked. “Aren’t you s’posed to be on a plane?”

  An
di bobbed her head to the side. “Decided there were more important things I needed to take care of here.”

  That answer was good enough for Gloria, who sent her off with a wave. “See you soon, dear, sweet child.”

  Andi whirled around, but Gloria was already crouched behind the desk. She knew she’d met that older woman before and her comment just confirmed it.

  * * *

  When Fancy’s navy blue sedan rounded the corner into the parking lot of Circles of Care, Andi spotted Matt leaning against the side of his truck, arms crossed over his chest and head tipped up to the morning sun. He was the perfect mix of strong and sensitive, witty and serious. And if it had been this hard to leave him after only three days, how would she feel by Sunday, six days from now? She shook her head. No sense worrying about that now. Much in the same way gigantic design projects had a way of working themselves out, this, too, would have to work itself out.

  Fancy found a parking spot up front and Andi watched as Matt crossed the parking lot toward the sedan. She was thankful for the tinted windows, so he couldn’t see her in the back seat. He opened the passenger-side door for Millie and flinched in surprise when the back door popped open.

  When Andi stepped out, his mouth fell open. “What the—”

  “Surprise!” she said, her shoulders hunched up to her ears.

  He pushed around the door and in one swift motion had her in his arms. “You’re here,” he whispered and stroked her hair.

  Millie let out a squeal of delight and Fancy clapped from the other side of the car.

  He pushed back and his eyes locked on Andi as if a blink might cause her to vanish. She squeezed his arms, just above the elbows, feeling the muscles of his arms.

  “I am here.”

  His expression grew serious. “For how long?”

  “Couple more days.”

  His eyebrow quirked.

  “Or maybe the whole week.”

  A smile pulled up the corners of his mouth. “Good enough for now.” He leaned forward to say softly in her ear, “And after this week, you won’t ever want to leave.”

 

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