Love Blossoms: 7 Spring-Fresh Christian Romances

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Love Blossoms: 7 Spring-Fresh Christian Romances Page 40

by Kimberly Rae Jordan


  “Huh? Yeah—yes.” He snapped to attention. “There’s a tour at ten o’clock. Would you like me to pencil you in for that?”

  He nodded into the phone as he jotted another name and number on a Post-It note. He was sticking the seventh or eighth sticky note on the glass table in chronological order when he looked up into the prettiest eyes in the Southern USA.

  “What are you doing?” Tamsyn asked. Those once-pretty eyes not shot daggers of “Get off my desk!” at him.

  “Answering your phone. You’re welcome.” He lifted a donut out of the box at the edge of the table. “Want one?”

  “Where’s Joe?”

  “Joe who? I don’t know the people who work for you, okay? When I got here, some woman with a streak of green hair on one side and orange on the other drove away a trolley of customers, and nobody else was here. The phone started ringing, and here I am.”

  “I owe you another one.”

  “That’s right. You owe me big time. And this time it’s dinner.”

  “We had dinner last night. How about free tours?”

  “I’ve already paid for my tour packages through next week.”

  “Isn’t it a bit much to be taking all the tours we offer?” Tamsyn asked.

  Ryan studied her to see how he should take that question, how he should answer it. He decided to err on the side of history. “Immersion. If I know more about Savannah, then I’ll know how to…”

  How to what?

  He wasn’t sure, exactly. How do tear down that city block that Tamsyn held so dear? How to renovate it to make it fit for the future?

  Listen to me. How do I know what the future looks like?

  Tamsyn’s face reddened. Ryan saw pain. The last thing he wanted to do was cause her pain.

  He opened his mouth to speak, but she didn’t give him a chance. She walked away from the front desk toward the group of tourists waiting in the sitting area.

  Ryan followed her.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, sorry for the delay. Your tour guide, Mike, is sick, so let’s hope he gets well soon. I’m filling in for him on this tour, and we’re going to get started as soon as we do a headcount. Did anyone here just walk in?”

  She nodded to the two or three people lifting up their hands.

  “This Historic Homes Walking Tour is $45 per person and we take cash, credit card, or PayPal. If you will just see me, we’ll get your names on the tour list, and off we’ll go. Thank you again for waiting.”

  Ryan stepped closer to Tamsyn. He had read the flier. It had said they would get maps. They were part of the deal. Yeah, he had an eye for details, and it looked like Tamsyn needed some assistance. “Maps?”

  “Maps?” Tamsyn pointed to the counter. “Ladies and gentlemen, Ryan here will hand out some maps in case anyone needs one, and in case your cell phone runs out of battery and you can’t access your GPS.”

  Ryan felt rather helpful today. He tried to think of how else he could help Tamsyn in her predicament. The front desk was still unoccupied. If he offered to stay behind, he would miss the tour. Not only had he paid for the tour, he’d rather be with Tamsyn.

  He caught himself.

  It’s true. I’d rather be with Tamsyn here in Savannah than anywhere else.

  At this time? Or at any time?

  More for him to pray about.

  He wondered when these feelings had begun. It couldn’t have been months before when RYUCP had offered the city of Savannah a deal to revitalize that street corner. It couldn’t have been when the city made the decision not to exercise their imminent domain privileges, but to let the homeowners be persuaded to sell instead.

  Truly, that entire city block should have been condemned.

  RYUCP could turn that place around and make it great again.

  And yet…

  Now he wondered if his fight for the future was worth breaking Tamsyn’s heart for the past.

  Three days before, there had been no question it was worth it.

  Now?

  He wasn’t sure anymore.

  Chapter Seven

  “What’s wrong with a bit of old and a bit of new?” Tamsyn muttered as she picked up her Bible and notebook from the dining table where she had sat during the Sunday morning church service at Riverside Chapel.

  She felt a warm breath on her neck and a whisper in her ear. “You mumble.”

  Tamsyn didn’t say a word as she found Ryan inches away from her face, amusement in his eyes.

  “Lunch on me?” he asked.

  “Are you asking me out?”

  “No. Everybody’s going to lunch at Piper’s Place. I only offered to pay for yours.”

  “Because?”

  “Because I want to.”

  “To bribe me?” Tamsyn stuffed her Bible and notebook into the canvas Tamsyn Tours tote bag.

  “Bribe? For what?”

  “For my childhood home you want to raze to the ground.” Her voice cracked. Yes, that was exactly what Ryan and his company wanted to do to her family, to her, to her posterity.

  Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Is that all you think about? On a Sunday, no less? The Lord’s Day?”

  “It’s a big deal to me. A very big deal.”

  “Something you’d lose your appetite over?”

  “More than that, I’d be devastated if I lose my family home.”

  “Devastated?”

  “It’s the truth.” Tamsyn moved away from Ryan who stood there, rooted to the floor, looking hurt and somewhat dejected. She resisted feeling sorry for him.

  *

  “Devastated. She said devastated.” Ryan made a face into the FaceTime camera on his iPhone as he relaxed on his fourth floor hotel room balcony facing the afternoon wind coming over Savannah. Below the cantilevered deck floor, the streets were busy with people and vehicles.

  “That bothered you because…?” Hiroki laughed, his face filling Ryan’s iPhone.

  Hiroki seemed to be laughing a lot lately, and had continued laughing even as Ryan gave him an earful about setting him up for the dinner cruise without a date.

  If his friend from architectural school kept on that route, Ryan wouldn’t be sure who was directing his path and decisions. Was it God working through Hiroki? Or was Ryan himself winging it?

  “I don’t want to cause her pain,” Ryan said.

  “We sent you to Savannah for a bit of an R&R and a scouting expedition, man. We didn’t send you there to buddy up with your nemesis.”

  “She’s not my nemesis.”

  “She was that and more on Thursday morning. What happened between then and now?”

  Love happened.

  There. He had thought it.

  “So what are you going to do, Ryan Ruttledge? Got a plan?”

  Ryan bristled. “Why don’t you give me a plan? You got me into this mess.”

  “Me? You agreed to it.”

  Yeah, I did. “But still, if you hadn’t—”

  “Wait a minute, Ryan.” Hiroki leaned back.

  It was then that Ryan saw where Hiroki was: at his desk. “Did you go to church this morning?”

  “Sure did. I brought a change of clothes and got takeout for lunch. Why?”

  “Just want to make sure you didn’t pull another all-nighter.” Ryan was relieved. He didn’t want anyone in the office working on Sundays. He firmly believed that if his business partners and employees had a day of rest, they’d be more productive during weekdays.

  “No. I just had some extra work to do. I promise to be done in a few hours.”

  “Maybe I should get home tonight,” Ryan said. “We have that Urquhart project in Alpharetta we need to tweak.”

  “And one in Chattanooga too.”

  “Right.”

  “No, don’t talk yourself into it. You have another week. Take advantage of it and get some rest. You work harder than the rest of us, Ryan, and you deserve time off.”

  “It doesn’t feel like time off. It feels like I’m goofing off.”

  �
��Well, things are moving around here even without you.”

  Ryan shook his head. “Some job security I have, then.”

  “Haha. Look, we’ll see you in a week,” Hiroki said. “Rest up. Big days ahead.”

  Big days ahead, indeed.

  Soon, Ryan would have to disclose his feelings for Tamsyn while pulling the house from her. He knew nothing good could come out of their relationship. It was a dead end because they could not agree on Rosa Pendegrast Lane.

  Ryan said goodbye to Hiroki. He decided to go for a run. Around the blocks a few times should clear his head and give him some perspective.

  No.

  His perspective had to come from God alone.

  Quietly, Ryan prayed.

  Lord Jesus, I need Your wisdom in this matter about Tamsyn. Guard us in this situation, whether the outcome is good or bad for both of us.

  No sooner had he prayed, Ryan remembered that God had His best in mind for both him and Tamsyn.

  Both? I’m including her now?

  Ryan looked up the verse he knew well. Jeremiah 29:11 popped up rather quickly on his Bible app. He asked Siri to read it.

  “‘For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.’”

  Ryan nodded, agreeing with the Bible.

  Thoughts of peace. That’s what I want.

  Peace with Tamsyn and, more importantly, peace with God.

  Chapter Eight

  “You baffle me, Tamsyn.” Ryan Ruttledge had been sticking to her side ever since they boarded the HMS Charity for the hour-long tour. The rest of the tour group was scattered throughout the tall ship.

  “How so?” Tamsyn walked past the mizzenmast toward the quarterdeck, her footfall quiet against the wooden deck.

  “You love those old colonial days, and yet you said the other day that you fear the ocean.”

  “I never said that to you,” Tamsyn protested.

  “Not to me, but to another tourist on a trolley tour.”

  Tamsyn wondered how to respond to that. “Just because you take all my tours doesn’t mean you should listen in on my conversations with others.”

  “Well, I was right there.”

  “Eavesdropping is a bad idea. You might mishear something.”

  “I didn’t mishear your fear of the ocean, did I?” Ryan asked.

  Tamsyn bristled.

  Ryan waved his arms about. “This tall ship sails the oceans.”

  “It’s docked,” Tamsyn said, wondering what Ryan was driving at.

  “Right now. And this is as far as you go.”

  “What about my riverboat tours?”

  “Those are not on open seas,” Ryan pointed. “You’re on a river—this river—flanked by land.”

  “What are you saying?” Tamsyn tilted her head so she could stare into his eyes.

  Want a fight?

  “You won’t venture out of your comfort zone.” Ryan’s smile was both teasing and taunting.

  Tamsyn wasn’t sure how to defend herself.

  “I’m happy on land,” she managed.

  Ryan stepped toward her, close enough to make Tamsyn a tad nervous. It didn’t help that his lips beckoned her to go where she wasn’t sure she should.

  “I’m asking you to set your sails,” he said.

  “Whatever for?” Tamsyn stepped back. It was a feeble attempt at retreating, and she knew it.

  “See the possibilities.”

  “Possibilities, Ryan? They could be as ugly as your ghastly buildings—”

  Oops.

  Her palm flew to her mouth. “I didn’t mean to say…”

  There was nowhere for Tamsyn to hide. They were on an open deck. All around Ryan and her, tourists walked to and fro, chattering in many languages. Their voices wove into a polyphony that rose into the spring morning and dissipated into the Atlantic winds above the tall ship.

  “I stepped out of the norms. I created something different, new.” Ryan wasn’t done speaking. “You never left the bluff, so to speak. Me? I unfurled my sails. I went out there.”

  Tamsyn snapped back to her usual self. “Yeah, and you ventured where no common sense has gone before.”

  “Common sense?” Ryan asked. “Let me show you what common sense is.”

  Ryan lifted her hand and kissed it gently.

  His lips were soft.

  Oh, so soft.

  “That’s common sense.” Ryan stepped into Tamsyn’s shadow in the morning light, his eyes still fixed on hers.

  “You make no sense,” Tamsyn said.

  “Nonsense, you say?” Gently, Ryan’s thumb rubbed her chin.

  His thumb is soft too!

  Does this guy ever do dishes?

  Tamsyn was surprised at what had just popped into her head. Dishes? What on earth would make her think of something domestic at a moment like this?

  Before she could parse her way back to what was happening, Ryan’s warm lips were on hers, tasting like Burt’s Bees coconut lip balm.

  She surprised herself by enjoying his affection.

  It ended too soon.

  “That, I don’t normally do.” Ryan stepped back. “Hence, to me, that was uncommon sense.”

  *

  Ryan watched Tamsyn’s stunned hazel eyes soften into what looked like part bewilderment and part surprise.

  He turned and walked away, his shoulder muscles feeling warm, as though she was staring at his back more intensely than the midmorning sun.

  His palms turned clammy and he could hear his own heartbeats.

  Yep. Definitely uncommon sense.

  Something was happening between Tamsyn and him, but he wasn’t sorry he had rocked her boat.

  He sought her out the rest of the tour, but she avoided him. Even when their tour group jostled for space in the galley, Tamsyn made sure she stood far enough away from him to avoid eye contact.

  What? Was it my lip balm?

  No more words were exchanged between them that morning, not even when they filed onto the trolley for the ride back to Tamsyn Tours.

  Somehow, Ryan felt a longing he had never felt with any of his ex-girlfriends. Well, he hadn’t had too many to begin with.

  But Tamsyn Pendegrast was different.

  He could still feel her lips on his own—her nervous but responsive lips.

  Yes, she had responded to his kiss.

  That was all he needed to know.

  But is it all?

  Had he prayed about this? Or was it an emotional reaction to Tamsyn’s proximity? Leading her on would be damaging to both of them, especially in the eyes of God, wouldn’t it?

  He barely knew her. He didn’t even know what brand of Christianity she believed. Well, it could go both ways. She didn’t know what he believed. Perhaps that was why Tamsyn had stayed away from him after their encounter by the mizzenmast.

  And then there was the matter of Rosa Pendegrast Lane that stood between them, a gulf that might be too wide to cross.

  The unmistakable ringtone that came from Ryan’s shorts pocket startled him. He would have welcomed it if not for what had transpired between him and Tamsyn. Now he dreaded what Jared was going to say to him.

  Even though putting off the inevitable could make it worse, Ryan decided to ignore the call from Jared Urquhart, another business partner, and the one holding the RYUCP purse strings.

  He heard the little ping. Jared’s call had gone to voice mail.

  Good.

  Then he heard another tone.

  A text message.

  All right, all right.

  Ryan reached into his pocket to retrieve the iPhone. He promptly regretted reading it.

  We got the other two houses. You made any progress with that Pendegrast woman?

  Something about that text message rubbed Ryan the wrong way.

  It wasn’t that Jared had called Tamsyn “that Pendegrast woman.”

  It wasn’t that RYUCP had somehow managed to wrangle the ot
her two houses out of their homeowners’ hands. He was sure Jared had offered them deals they could not resist, perhaps beach houses and such things that Jared’s influences could procure.

  But what made Ryan feel disgusted and dirty was what Jared had implied he was doing in Savannah. He wasn’t here to “make any progress” with Tamsyn—at least not in the way he had expected.

  All he came here to do was to understand why Tamsyn Pendegrast held on to her childhood home like a tenacious pit bull. She knew it was an old house. She knew it would take a lot of money to renovate and restore it, something along the order of a few hundred thousand dollars or more, depending on the condition of the house. From the photographs Ryan had seen, Tamsyn’s house was in rather shabby condition.

  And yet, she would not let it go.

  What about the memories of the place that had so permeated her?

  Beyond that, Ryan didn’t really have a proper agenda. Hiroki had one—study the opposition. But now that Ryan had spent some time with Tamsyn, he no longer viewed her as his opposition. On the contrary, he wanted to spend more time with her.

  Not for business reasons, but for something more personal.

  Ryan chided himself. He should have sorted out his feelings before he kissed Tamsyn earlier in the tour. Now there was a barrier between them.

  Still, he had kissed her because he wanted to. Did she know that?

  Chapter Nine

  “I’ve been blindsided. I can’t believe my neighbors caved in.” Tamsyn buried her face in her hands as she sank into the rattan couch in Heidi’s sunroom. “They want money more than history.”

  “Tam, let’s not judge,” Heidi Wei-Flores said as she turned on the fan. “We need to trust God to handle this.”

  Above Tamsyn, the fan whirled away the warm breeze. Through the open windows facing the backyard, she could hear the ocean beyond the dunes. The afternoon waves were so loud it felt like they were crashing up against her rib cage.

  Can’t breathe!

  Heidi sat down next to her and rubbed her shoulders. “I would tell you it’s all going to be okay, but until then, it’s a rough road we’ll need to travel.”

  Tamsyn nearly chuckled. “Trust you to tell me as it is, but this is not your road. This is mine.”

  “You’re my friend and sister in Christ. I’m your prayer support. I’m not the only one. Nadine, Sabine, Abilene—”

 

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