The Come to Me Complete Collection: Contemporary Christian Romance

by Leah Atwood

  Aubrey stood outside the diner, her phone in hand. Her fingers tapped the device in rapid movements, shooting off a line of messages. Dressed in a short denim skirt and a royal blue tank, she’d opted for casual attire that showcased her trim figure.

  “Hi.” He walked to her. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

  She glanced up from her phone. “Oh, hey. Hold on a sec.” Her fingers tapped away again.

  “Ready?” he asked once her hands stilled.

  “Yes.”

  Two kids who looked to be high school age walked out the door. Rob caught it on their exit and held it open for Aubrey. “After you.”

  “Thanks.” She walked through, swaying her hips more than necessary.

  “Have a seat anywhere,” an employee told them from behind the counter.

  For being so late, the place was packed, but then, most diners he’d been in at this time of night usually were busy. The only empty table was a booth in the rear corner. They followed the trail of tables and claimed their seats. Aubrey slid in one side, and he, the other.

  A waitress wearing jeans and a hot pink T-shirt with the diner’s logo approached the table. She set a glass of water and menu in front of both of them. “I’ll be back in a minute for your drink order.”

  Rob scanned the menu with uncommitted interest. He wasn’t all that hungry. After deciding on an order of mozzarella sticks, he set the menu aside.

  “Doesn’t look like they have any healthy options.” Aubrey set her menu down, her nose scrunched.

  “I saw some salads listed.”

  “Yeah, but I’d pretty much have to take off everything but the lettuce, and even then, the remnants would still be there.”

  “Allergies?”

  “No, but a body like this doesn’t happen by eating junk.”

  Wow. He coughed into his arm, surprised by her bluntness. How was he even supposed to respond to that?

  “You could ask for only a plate of lettuce,” he suggested with a hint of sarcasm.

  “Good idea.”

  The waitress returned and took their order. Aubrey ordered her plate of lettuce with a low-cal dressing on the side. To each their own, but he would eat his fried cheese without a single shred of guilt.

  Aubrey picked up her phone again, sending more messages. “Sorry, a friend is having a crisis.” She returned her phone to the table.

  “Everything okay?” At least there was an explanation for her constant phone use. There were times he was guilty of it as well, but good grief, her phone had barely left her hands.

  “Should be. She has a breakfast date in the morning and can’t figure out what to wear.” She laughed, oblivious to her rude behavior.

  He bit his tongue. What he wouldn’t give to live in a world where not knowing what to wear for a date was considered a crisis. Just when he was ready to give her the benefit of the doubt, her phone rang and she answered it, getting up from the table and disappearing outside.

  Ten minutes later, he was still sitting alone at the table. Enough was enough. All he’d wanted was a night out to relax and have a nice conversation. Unfortunately, Aubrey was nothing like she’d seemed at the stadium. Appetite lost, he requested the check when the waitress delivered the food. He pulled out a twenty and a five from his wallet to cover the tab plus tip then laid the money on the table. If Aubrey wanted to come back in and eat, she could, but he wouldn’t be there.

  He walked outside, catching sight of his date still chatting away.

  “That was a bust,” he muttered, walking away.

  “Rob, wait up.” From behind him, he heard the clunk of wedge sandals running toward him.

  Turning, he saw Aubrey approaching. “Hey, it was getting late, so I decided to head back. The bill’s taken care of.”

  “I didn’t mean to be on the phone so long. I’ve been a pretty bad date, haven’t I?” She batted her eyes, giving him a faux look of remorse.

  “Morning’s going to come early. I couldn’t stay out much later anyway.” Diplomacy wasn’t his strong point, but he’d have to see her on a business level until the tour ended, and if he told her what he really thought, it could make the next seven weeks uncomfortable.

  “There’s still lots of night left,” she purred. “You could come back to my hotel.”

  “No.” He didn’t feel the slightest temptation to accept her open invitation. Even if the date had gone better, the answer would still be a resounding no.

  In the last several years, he’d dated quite often. While he rarely went out with the same girl more than a handful of times, one thing remained constant—he never took a date home. There were boundaries he never crossed. He wasn’t a saint in many ways, not by far, but for this he had his reasons.

  “Sure?” She put a hand to his chest, and he shrunk away, creating distance between them.

  Her audaciousness was the final nail in the coffin. “Positive.” By the glow of a streetlamp, he could see her cheeks touched with a pink blush. He assumed she wasn’t used to being turned down. “Are you okay getting back on your own?” he asked, her safety his only concern.

  “I’m right there.” She jerked a thumb toward a nearby building, a hotel he hadn’t previously noticed.

  “I’ll see you around, all right?”

  “Yeah, goodnight.” She turned and left.

  Relief that the date was over came out through a sigh. What a night. He’d hoped that a date, time hanging out with someone other than his friends who’d all paired up, would have curbed the loneliness that had been haunting him of late. Instead, he felt worse than he did before going out.

  The plaguing memories were changing though. Now, he thought of Dani. Her frustrated looks directed toward his flirtations. The moment she was in his arms while dancing. The way her eyes lit when she talked of the restaurant. Her reluctance for him to leave, despite the fact that she’d tried to disguise it.

  She was breaking his resolve. If things were different, could there be a hope for anything between them? The question hung over his head as he walked back to the tour bus. He should have asked for her phone number. She probably wouldn’t have given it to him. What was the point? Why couldn’t he get her out of his head?

  He was crazy—that was the only explanation. Or tired. That had to be it. All thoughts and feelings were magnified after a certain point of night. He’d go to sleep, wake up tomorrow and feel fine. It was the lousy date combined with the shroud of darkness that was making him brood.

  When he returned to the bus, he let himself in and went straight to his backpack on the table. After unzipping the bag, he pulled out a notebook, his lifeline. He grabbed a chair, flipped the outside light switch on then sat outside, craving the fresh air. Notebook on lap, he pulled the pen out from the metal spirals and opened to the page on which he’d last written.

  He’d composed the music already—he just needed the right lyrics. Over the last decade, he’d written some fifty songs, but this particular one, he’d never been able to finish. Once he completed it, he’d be free. Only then, could he pursue his real dream and start the process of selling the others.

  You’re not the one I thought I’d love. Quietly singing the words, he decided they wouldn’t do. He scratched them out, adding them to a hundred other lines he’d elected not to use. There were only a few clean pages left in the notebook, all the others were full of crossed out words and a handful of useful lyrics. He was so close to finishing.

  But it wouldn’t be tonight.

  He pulled out his phone and looked at the time. 4:12 a.m.—two hours had passed since he’d been sitting outside. At this point, he may as well stay awake. The few hours of sleep he’d get would only make him more tired tomorrow.

  The dry evening air was soothing, warm but not stifling like the confines of a building. His stomach growled, and for a second, he wished he’d eaten the mozzarella sticks instead of leaving them on the table. He went back into the bus, grabbed a pack of crackers and a soda, and then returned to his spot outsid
e. Hunger abated, he stared into the night, his eyes focused on nothing in particular.

  His feet tapped the asphalt. Too much restless energy filled him. Standing up, he decided to go for a walk. One thought persisted, refusing to leave, and the solution became perfectly clear. He needed to talk to Dani. She’d agreed to be friends, right? They’d gotten along those couple hours after he apologized. In some ways, they understood each other. Neither was looking for a relationship—she had her career, he had his ghosts. Why not try to contact her? He didn’t have her phone number, but there were other ways. And if she didn’t respond, well, then he’d find a way to forget her.

  He paused his walk and pulled out his phone, opening the Facebook app. Going to the search box, he typed in “Danielle Trahan”, but it didn’t return any results that he recognized. Maybe she wasn’t on Facebook, but if she was, wouldn’t she be friends with Bryce? He pulled up Bryce’s private profile, the one only friends and family knew of, and looked through his friends.

  A slow smile formed. Danica Trahan—he’d been mistaken what Dani was short for, but there she was, her bright, perfectly round face filling the profile photo. He doubted himself, before deciding it was acceptable to find her this way. He clicked on the Add Friend button. The rest was up to her. If she didn’t accept, he wouldn’t ask again.

  Chapter 6

  “Thanks again for coming over.” Gina reached down and grabbed another item from the box.

  “No problem, glad I could help.” Dani held up a plate. She was spending the morning at Gina’s new house, helping her unpack. “Which cabinet do you want these dishes in?”

  “The one right by you, to the left of the sink.”

  Reaching up, Dani clasped the round brass knob and opened the cabinet door. “Any particular way you want them arranged?”

  “Plates on bottom, cups and glasses on top, please.” Gina walked over and looked at the available space. “They’ll all fit with no problem.”

  One by one, Dani unpacked the dishes, carefully removing them from their newsprint and bubble wrap. Within minutes, she had the box emptied with room to spare in the cabinet. “What next?”

  “Let’s take a break.” Gina put a hand to her back and stretched. “I tire so easily these days.”

  “Have a seat. Can I get you anything?”

  “You’re my guest. I’m supposed to serve you.”

  Dani laughed. “I’m not the one who’s eight and a half months pregnant. Now, what can I get you?”

  Gina shuffled to a chair at the dining table. “I bought a gallon jug of tea this morning. A glass would be nice if you’re sure you don’t mind helping.” She sat down and pushed a sweaty strand of hair from her face. “It’s decaf, but I have bottles of regular tea, as well. Greg takes them with his lunch.”

  “Plastic or glass cup?” Her years in food service had taught her that some people had a very strong preference although she’d never cared either way.

  “Glass, please.”

  She took two glasses that she’d just put in the cabinet and rinsed them before setting them on the counter and pulling the tea from the fridge. When she finished, she carried the drinks to the table and sat down. “Do you have everything ready for the baby’s arrival?”

  “I think so.” Gina took a long drink. “Mom and my best friend had a shower for me a few weeks ago and everyone blessed me with a lot of gifts. We shouldn’t need to buy anything but diapers for the first few months.”

  “Did you get my gift? I received the invitation, but couldn’t take the time off work.” It was true, but for some reason, the excuse sounded hollow.

  Gina smiled. “Yes and thank you. With the move and all, I’m behind on sending out thank you notes, but I can’t wait to use your gift and make an imprint of this guy’s feet.”

  “I’ve always loved baby feet. They’re so tiny and cute.”

  “I’m not sure about tiny. The way this baby kicks, I think he’s going to have monster feet.” Gina rubbed her stomach.

  “I’m sure they’ll be perfect. Do you have a theme for his nursery?”

  “Boats and airplanes. The nursery is all we have left to do, but we can work on it as we go, since we’ll keep him in our room for the first few months. At least, that’s the plan.”

  “I can’t wait to meet him and get my baby fix.” Dani thought of another distant cousin who’d recently given birth. “Did you see the pictures on Facebook of Miranda’s daughter?”

  “No. I heard she had her baby, but haven’t seen the pictures. We cut off the internet at the old place three months ago and haven’t had it connected yet at this one. I’d use my phone, but we only have basic cell phones for now. Trying to save money for the baby and all, you know.” Gina looked away, as if embarrassed by the admission.

  “I can show them to you on my phone if you want to see. Bailey is adorable. She’s got the chubbiest cheeks I’ve ever seen.”

  Gina’s face brightened again. “I’d love to see them.”

  “Hold on a sec, and I’ll pull them up.” She stood and went to her purse, which was sitting on the couch in the other room. She grabbed her phone and went back to her seat at the table.

  The past week had been so busy she hadn’t logged in for a while, which was evident by her high number of notifications. One caught her eye—she had a new friend request.

  Curious and distracted from her main purpose, she tapped on it. Most of her friends and family whom she talked with on a regular basis were already on the network. Her chest tightened when she saw who it was and then she smiled. Questions raced through her mind, the most prominent of which, was why, followed by what does it mean?

  Get a grip, Dani, it’s only a friend request, not a marriage proposal.

  “Did you just win the lottery or something?” Gina’s teasing question interrupted her thoughts.

  “No, why?”

  “You’re sitting there with a huge, cheesy grin on your face. I figured you must have had good news or something.”

  Heat reached the tips of her ears. “No, just an unexpected friend request from an old friend.”

  “Uh huh.” Gina crossed her arms casually over her chest in a relaxed pose. “Methinks there is more to the story or else you wouldn’t be blushing.”

  Why, oh why had she offered too much information? Her cousin had inherited Gram’s sharp instinct for ferreting out information. “I thought you wanted to see pictures of the baby.”

  Gina grinned. Unfortunately, she hadn’t acquired Gram’s knack of knowing when to let a subject drop. “I do, but that can wait a few minutes. First, I want to hear what you’re not telling me.”

  “Remember Rob, the groomsman?”

  “The cutie-pie that couldn’t keep his eyes off you?”

  “I don’t know about all that, but yes.” Leaning back in her chair, she fidgeted with her phone.

  “Go ahead, look through his profile. I know you want to.” The teasing smirk never left Gina’s face.

  “No.” She pushed her phone away from the table, just out of her reach.

  “So what happened? Something obviously changed because at the wedding you were bemoaning his presence.”

  “He’s not the person I thought he was. The day he left, he came by my house to apologize. We talked, hung out for a bit, and then he left.” Dani sighed. “He’s a nice guy once you get past the Casanova exterior.”

  “But?”

  “But nothing.” The surge of happiness that had pumped through her when she saw the request faded. “We can be friends, but that’s it.”

  “Even though it seems apparent you both would like to explore more?” Gina’s prompting was tiresome.

  Dani didn’t have answers for that question. “I think something happened to him in the past, but I don’t know.” Another time, another place—the four words that constantly echoed in her memory. “There’s no point in pushing because there are too many other factors that would preclude a relationship with him anyway.”

  “Wher
e there’s a will, there’s always a way.”

  “Not if he’s an unbeliever.” Not that she could know for sure, but in a moment she wasn’t proud of, she’d asked Sophie, who said, as far as she knew, Rob didn’t share their faith.

  When Gina didn’t respond, Dani stood, forgetting the original reason she’d brought out her phone. “Let’s get some more stuff unpacked. I have to be at the restaurant in an hour.”

  Moving into the living room, they proceeded to unpack in silence. Dani lifted a book from a large box and placed it on a built-in bookcase, situating it between a book of similar size and one slightly smaller. On the other side of the room, Gina removed pictures in frames and lined them up on the sagging cushions of the couch.

  “I can’t decide which ones to display.” Her gaze transferred from frame to frame, her eyes watery. “This place is smaller than our place in Monroe, which wasn’t very large to begin with.”

  At seeing Gina’s tears, Dani crossed the room and went to her side. “I’m sure the changes are difficult, especially with a baby on the way.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was so emotional.” Gina looked at one of the frames, which held a picture of her and her husband on their wedding day. “Before we got married, everyone told us we were too young, but we both just knew, you know?”

  “Yes.” She didn’t, not really.

  “It hasn’t been easy, but we were finally in a good spot. We never imagined Greg would get laid off months before the baby’s arrival.” A tear fell and Gina dabbed it with her index finger. “Few people know, but we were evicted from our apartment.”

  “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” Dani took her into her arms, giving her a comforting hug.

  “We tried to hold on, but we couldn’t, not on our own. I begged him to ask our parents for help, but he wouldn’t, and we’ve been arguing ever since.” Gina backed away with a dry laugh. “Do you want to know what the worst part is? Even though I’m mad that he wouldn’t ask for help, I respect him more for owning up and taking responsibility.”