by Jillian Hart
The apartment was small, so a few more steps took them into the entry hall, where Brandi’s backpack remained slumped against the wall. Bree found her gait slowing to minuscule steps. Max did, too.
“How would you rate the evening, on a scale of one to ten?”
His question made her blush. “I’m not sure how to answer that.”
“The kisses aside.” Mischief twinkled in his stunning blue eyes. “Did you like being with me?”
Talk about putting her heart on the line! She froze, wondering how she could open up like that. She was mostly experienced with shielding her feelings, not in exposing them.
“The truth, Bree.” Soft, his words. More caring than she could have imagined. “If it helps, I would rate being with you a fifty on a scale of ten.”
“Me, too.” So she wasn’t alone. Her slow smile stretched her face, but it didn’t come close to the enormity of the happy glow welling through her.
“Good. Then how about going to dinner with me next Friday?” He shrugged into his leather jacket, looking calm and unruffled and intensely manly.
Dinner, as in a date. This evening had been totally casual, but a date was something else. Something more. If it were a dream, she would have blithely and coolly accepted, made some witty banter and captured his entire heart with her smile.
Reality: her brain turned to fog. Her tongue forgot every word of the English language. She realized she was still grinning ear to ear.
“Maybe.” It was the best she could do. She was not coy. She was mostly too shy to say anything more.
“Then maybe I’ll be here at six.” He searched her face, serious and intense, and she felt the tug of the connection between her heart and his. A click of understanding crinkled in the corners of his eyes. He understood what she could not say. How much this meant to her. How risky it was to fully open her heart for the first time.
“Me, too,” he assured her, as his lips grazed her cheek.
A burst of sweet affection blazed through her like a star falling from the night sky. Too overwhelmed with emotion, buoyant with hope, she could only waggle her fingers at him in goodbye as he opened the door. How was it that he could understand her without words? She thought she could feel the same vulnerable hope within him as he smiled one last time and closed the door.
“Is he gone?” Brandi whispered a few seconds later.
Bree nodded, realizing her sister was peering around the kitchen archway. “You didn’t have to scamper off. You could have stayed and talked with Max, too.”
“Yeah, but I really want things to work out for you. He had his arm around you.” Brandi emerged and flipped on the kitchen light, unfortunately highlighting the backlog of dirty dishes. She was very skilled at ignoring them as she grabbed a soda from the fridge. “Do you want one?”
“Please.” Bree sidled up to the breakfast bar and moved a stack of books out of the way so she could sit on one of the chairs. “He’s nice, isn’t he?”
“Super nice. I’m so excited about you two. I can hardly stand it.” Now it was Brandi’s turn to grin ear to ear as she popped the top on both cans and set them on the counter. She hopped into the other seat. “I tried not to overhear, I really did, but there’s poor insulation in this place. He asked you out.”
“He did.” She still couldn’t believe tonight. The kisses. The closeness. The sweetness. “I’m dating Mr. Dreamy.”
“See? I told you. I’ve been praying hard for you, Bree. I told you there wasn’t a reason why you couldn’t find a great guy. He’s your happily-ever-after.”
“You say that with such confidence. We’re going to have to wait and see. Happily-ever-after takes time, not to mention all the pitfalls on the road along the way.” She sipped the cool grape soda, savoring it. “I’m starting to hope, Brandi. I mean, to really hope.”
“I know. He seems like such a great guy. Raising his brother like that. The way he treats you. And, oh, the way he looks at you.”
“Like how?”
“Like you are his dream come true.” Brandi slurped her soda, sparkling with excitement. “Do you want to know what my devotional verse was today?”
“I’m afraid to ask.” Afraid? She was back up on that mountain, except the glacier at her feet had stopped cracking. It was holding, and she was able to take a look around and glimpse the tiniest view of forever. The possibility of this working out with Max. Of their love deepening. Of an engagement ring, marriage and spending her evenings at his side, snuggled close and laughing at the same things together, at the exact same moment.
“Here. Listen to this.” Brandi had dug a book out from one of the dozen on the counter and read from it. “Jeremiah 31:13. I will turn their mourning into gladness; I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow. This is the Lord leading you, Bree. Don’t be afraid to follow where He takes you.”
Her throat filled with a tangle of emotions, all new and terrifying, the strongest of which was hope. She sipped her soda, trying to wash away the feelings. But they remained, like Scripture said, a comfort and joy.
Chapter Eleven
“What is up with you?” Marcus burst into the kitchen with his ear buds hanging around his neck and audible hip-hop music vibrating through them. He tossed the key ring on the counter. “Are you going to church tonight or something?”
“Or something.” Max grabbed the iPod out of Marcus’s sweatshirt pocket and turned the dial.
“Hey! Don’t mess with the tunes.” The kid protested with a grin.
“I’m messing with the volume.” He shoved the contraption back at the boy. “Don’t make me sorry I’m leaving tonight. What have you got planned?”
“I cleaned up the garage and the truck like you wanted, so I get to watch TV tonight, right?”
“I picked up some rental movies for you. They’re in by the television.”
“Did you get that action movie I wanted to see?”
“I did.” Fortunately, it had a PG-13 rating.
“Sweet.”
Max grabbed the key ring from the counter. If he was nervous about tonight, he didn’t want to admit it. He especially didn’t want the kid to know. “I’ve already paid for the pizza. It should be here in ten. Tip money for the driver is by the door.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.” Marcus stuck in his ear buds. “You never said. You got a church function?”
“No.” Max grabbed his coat off the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “None of your business, kid.”
“Ah, with a little deductive reasoning, I can figure this out.” He leaned backward against the countertop and crossed his arms over his chest, looking satisfied with himself. “You’ve got a date tonight with the lovely Brianna, don’t you?”
“No comment.” The kid was going to make a big deal out of this, and Max was psyched out enough as it was. He hadn’t been on a serious date in years. Blind dates aside, it had been well before Marcus had come to live with him. Three, maybe four years ago.
“Ah-ha! Your face tells the story.” He hooted with victory. “You like her, don’t you?”
“Again, no comment.” One glance at the kitchen clock told him he had best get moving. “You know the rules. No one over. You don’t leave the house. You don’t answer the door except for the pizza guy. You go to bed at ten o’clock if I’m not home.”
“I know, I know.” The kid rolled his eyes. “Don’t you worry about me, bro. Just concentrate on charming the lovely Brianna. You’ve got a shot at actually getting a girlfriend this time. No more lone wolf. I’m proud of you, buddy.”
Max rolled his eyes as Marcus clapped him on the shoulder, a perfect imitation of every time he had been proud of the boy. “Go watch your movie.”
That’s what he said, but what he meant was, thanks. They both knew it as he stepped foot into the garage.
Wow, it really was clean. The kid had done a decent job. Impressed, Max whipped open the truck door, his thoughts already turning to his date tonight.
Brianna. No doubt h
e’d fallen for her. Just because he was a tiny bit in love with her didn’t mean he had to go charging down that road at full speed. No, he would take his time before he decided if he would let himself be drawn to her any further. He had iron self-control and steely self-discipline. He wasn’t one of those men who got carried away by too much feeling, and that would serve him well now.
He jammed the key into the ignition and listened to the struggle of the engine to start. Not the best sign, but then it turned over and he was good to go. He backed out of the garage, a little nervous.
Lord, please let this go well tonight. No more date disasters. If there is one, I’m going to take it as a sign. I’m not looking to get hurt again. He checked for traffic before pulling out onto the main road, realizing too late he was heading in the wrong direction.
If he was looking for a sign, there it was. He was more in love with Bree than he wanted to admit. He was a levelheaded guy, and look at him, taking the wrong road, dating a woman who was entirely wrong for him, a storybook sweetheart. He didn’t believe in fairy tales.
That didn’t stop his nerves popping through him like cola bubbles. Tonight meant more than he wanted to admit. Much more. He turned into a bank parking lot and oriented the truck in the right direction.
Bree stood in her kitchen, going through her nicest purse. “Cell phone, driver’s license, hair brush, front door key. Looks like I’m ready to go.”
Her words echoed in the still kitchen and sounded really nervous. Maybe because that’s exactly what she was. So nervous, she couldn’t get the zipper closed and dropped her bag. It tumbled to the floor and she knelt to grab it, and dropped it. Again.
Nice. Way to play it cool.
The doorbell rang. He’s here! That single thought stirred up her panic again. One hundred percent, suffocating, blind panic. Max Decker was out of her realm of experience. Dating him was uncharted territory. She had never cared about a man so much.
Scary stuff. Neat, but scary.
He’s waiting, Bree. She dashed through the kitchen and caught her reflection in the wall mirror on the way by. Okay, now she was worried even more. She was plain Brianna McKaslin in really nice clothes and cute shoes. When she opened the door what would Max see? Would he look at her and see her flaws? She could certainly see them clearly. Each and every one.
Suddenly this date didn’t sound like a good idea. Why couldn’t she be one of those confident kinds of girls who breezily handled any situation? Something always went wrong on her dates, and she so didn’t want that to happen with this one. She liked Max. She didn’t want a date gone wrong to drive him away. She wanted this to work out. More than anything.
Her shoes tapped across the entryway, and a tight ball of worry remained lodged in between her ribs. She took a deep breath, staring at the doorknob when the text from Romans in her morning’s devotional hopped into her thoughts. May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.
She clasped the doorknob, the metal felt cool in her hand that no longer shook. She needed to stay full of joy and peace. She would trust this would work out right, no matter what.
The door swung open and she was surprised at how calm she sounded. “Hello, Max.”
He looked great with rain glistening in his dark hair and along the impressive line of his shoulders. He held a vase of a dozen perfect red rosebuds. As she opened the door wider, allowing him to step inside, he was even more handsome in a black sweater and trousers. A total dream.
“These are for you.” No dimples this time. No flash of his dazzling grin. He simply watched her steadily with a quiet question.
“Thank you. These are lovely.” He’d brought flowers. He stood before her with his heart open, waiting for her to do the same. She wanted to choose the safest route and to breezily talk of surface things: the roses, the weather, the busy week she’d had. It would be safer to stick to those subjects and keep him at arm’s length.
It wasn’t what Max’s silent question was asking.
Her hands trembled again as she took the crystal vase. His hands curled over hers, holding her captive for a few sweet moments. His hands were callused and strong; he was a hard-working man. Her instinct was to withdraw and move away, to break the contact he was trying to make. Run, that’s what she’d learned to do. Escape, because distance was safer. Max was too close. Not just in proximity but also in a way much more personal.
She stayed; not only in accepting his hands anchoring hers, but in her heart. She did not close up. She did her best to stay in the moment, in feeling what could not be said with words. It was like cracking open a door to her heart, one that had never been unlocked before. Vulnerable and frightened, she gazed up at him and wondered, did he feel this way, too?
His fingers released hers, and she backed away. The closeness remained, and so did the defenselessness. She set the flowers onto the little entry table. “What’s Marcus up to tonight?”
“Pizza and a DVD. That should keep him busy until I get home.” He stepped into the foyer and took her coat from the open closet. “You look beautiful tonight.”
She wanted to say something humorous, anything to put distance between them and slam closed the barely opened door to her deepest self. But she couldn’t. His serious, searching gaze focused on her as he shook out her best wool jacket. Caring deepened the fabulous blue of his irises as he held her jacket for her.
Her stomach twisted hard. With muscles quaking and her feet unsteady, she slipped her arms into the sleeves. Her breathing halted as he inched closer to settle the garment in place over her shoulders. So near, and it wasn’t physical. His hands curved over her shoulders, making her feel cozy and cared for.
Wow, her soul said. Absolute wow.
“Th-thank you.” Her words sounded way too breathy and dizzy.
He stepped away, but the dizzy sensation remained.
“Are you ready?” He paused in the doorway, framed by the darkening evening and charcoal clouds, his hand held out to her.
Because there was a crack in her heart that hadn’t been there before, she knew he was really asking her something else entirely. Not, was she ready to go on the date?—but was she ready to go on this new, uncertain journey with him?
“Yes.” She fit her hand to his bigger one. Relief crossed his face, and only then did a grin tease the corners of his mouth. He drew her onto the step with him and closed the door. She double-checked that the lock had caught—okay, a habit that was never going to go away apparently—and let him lead her down the stairs and onto the walkway.
“My brother is tickled you and I are going out tonight.” He hit his remote and the truck’s doors unlocked. “What does the bookstore sister have to say about all this?”
“She’s convinced she had a hand in it.”
“Because of the singles night the two of them conspired to get us to?” He opened her door.
“Colbie is sure that helped. You have to excuse her. She has a romantic soul.” She hopped onto the high truck seat with the help of his hand at her elbow.
“I imagine she has a rough time of it.” He grabbed the buckle and pulled it out for her. “I don’t have to be a detective to get that Colbie’s mom needs a lot of care, and your sister is the one who has to look after her.”
“She has a hard road, it’s true.” So many shields that were up, guarding the susceptible places within. He knew, because he was no different. She smiled gently. “But Colbie says she doesn’t mind. What she does for her mom is out of love.”
“Sounds like she’s definitely related to you.” Why was he smiling? He had learned from experience. He kept his feet on the ground and his expectations reasonable. Which was smart and sensible. Nothing wrong with that.
None of it explained why he loved her. Or why he started to hope he could have everything with her—marriage, kids, growing old sitting on the porch, knowing he could always trust her. Her unguarded violet eyes watched
him with silent hope, and it was like a punch to his soul.
Hold on to your heart, man. He closed her door and hiked around the front of the truck. With every step he took, he kept her in his sight. She looked more incredible to him with every passing moment. Demure and modest in a simple black dress and a dark wool coat, she was a rare and precious treasure he was afraid of losing.
Take this one step at a time. Don’t look ahead. Don’t expect the worst. The last time he’d been this at risk was when he’d been on that rainy driveway with a bullet next to his spine.
The wind gusted, cold and biting, as he opened the door. He hardly noticed it as he hopped in, wanting to be with her. His spirit turned toward her, and the tie he felt to her was something like the force of gravity holding the earth to the sun.
He gave the key a turn. Nothing happened. No click. No engine sounds. Not even a puff from the defroster. “This can’t be good. Let me try again.”
He did. Again, nothing. The truck was dead. Great. He thought of Marcus cleaning out the truck and vacuuming it. Had the kid run the battery down playing CDs?
“It’s a sign.” Bree bit her bottom lip, as if she were trying to keep from laughing. “Already. We haven’t even gotten to the restaurant yet. A lot of things can go wrong at the restaurant. Messed-up reservations. A table by the kitchen door or by someone loud and obnoxious. It could be closed. There could be a grease fire.”
“I knew this was too good to be true. Here I thought we had bypassed the first-date-disaster scenario. We had burgers in your living room last week. That turned into a date. In my book, that counts as date number one.”
“Apparently you are wrong.” When laughter lit her up, she was a dream come true. Luminous inner sparkle and soul-deep beauty.
Face it, man. You aren’t just a little bit in love with the woman. He rubbed his hand over his face, trying to make his gray matter work. Trying to figure out how to salvage the evening. “I didn’t want a dead battery. That’s why I tossed Marcus’s iPod at him when he was cleaning up the garage. I should have known better. I don’t want this to be the start of a downhill slide for the evening.”