by Heather Gray
“I thought you weren’t a big believer in love and marriage.”
“You barely know me,” she said, through gritted teeth. “Where’d you get such an idea?”
“Remember when we had to read Romeo & Juliet in school? You said Juliet was an idiot for killing herself over Romeo. If she’d given it a few weeks the feelings would have gone away.”
Julia didn’t have anything to say.
Having made his point, Seth changed the subject. He didn’t want to get into an argument with her. “I assume you saw Grace, too?”
“Of course,” Julia said. “I didn’t realize how much I’d missed her, until I saw her come out of the house.”
Again, astonishment made him curt. “It would have been nice if you could have shown you missed her, by maybe coming to see her.”
Julia turned on him, blue eyes flashing, her glorious red hair practically standing on end like the mutant who could control the weather. “Look, I’m having a hard enough time dealing with my own guilt about Grace and Sarah without you heaping on a big helping of it. So, why don’t you back off? Aren’t you supposed to be this compassionate minister? Isn’t it in your job description to show mercy and forgiveness? If so, you missed a few classes.”
Seth’s jaw dropped.
She swiped a hand across her face and seemed to deflate before his eyes. “I’m sorry I lashed out. My only excuse is I drove all night, and I’ve been worried sick about Sarah and the baby. Plus, I haven’t had any decent sleep since I lost my job.”
Regret lanced through him. He cleared his throat. “No, I’m sorry. You’re right. I am supposed to show mercy and forgiveness. My excuse is I’ve become protective of Grace and Sarah. I know your relationship with them is complicated, and it means a lot you would put your life on hold to help them.”
You’re such a liar, Seth Graham. You lashed out because prickly, bitter, keep-your-distance Julia Richardson made you remember you’re still alive.
His apology seemed to knock the wind out of her sails. “All right then. Umm, I see Eric waving for you. It must be time to start.”
Seth started to open his mouth and try to explain, but what could he say? I’ve lusted after you since the ninth grade, and it’s made me insane? In the end, he gave her a weak smile and walked away, the image of mile-long legs stretching endlessly from body-hugging denim burned into his brain.
God? You know what? The testing? I think I’ve had enough now.