A Case For Love (Royals Series Book 3)

by Nicole Taylor

  “Must be the company,” she teased, and then in the next breath groaned inwardly. How lame. Now he would think she was flirting.

  Again he offered no comment. He cocked his head to one side.

  “That music. Who is it?”

  Just before David had arrived, Ronnie had put in a worship CD.

  “Jonathan and Melissa Helser. It’s called No Longer Slaves.”

  He nodded in appreciation. “I like it.”

  “I’m no longer a slave to fear. I am a child of God,” she sang.

  He nodded.

  “Powerful,” he said, and for a moment she saw an intense look pass across his face as he watched her.

  Ronnie stood and went over to the player to restart the song.

  “I like your taste in music,” he said when the song ended. “It aligns with mine. Did I tell you I love the CDs you gave me?”

  “You sent me a message, remember? But more than that, you played a song from one of them that night at the concert.”

  He nodded. “We spent about a week rehearsing that song.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. That particular song resonated with me. Sometimes we talk about love like it excludes God and he doesn’t understand what we feel. Like he doesn’t see our hearts and understand the depth of emotion wrapped up in one look, one kiss. But he invented love. He is love. He knows all about love,” he said quietly, watching her with an unwavering gaze as he spoke.

  Ronnie’s throat went dry. Suddenly the room felt very warm.

  “Why did you leave so abruptly on the day of the concert? I was very disappointed. I wanted to meet your youth group and discuss with you what performances you liked,” David said.

  Ronnie was surprised. She had never gotten that indication. In fact, this was the first time he was mentioning this several months later.

  “I…Umm…it just seemed as though you were caught up with your lady friend. I didn’t want to intrude.”

  He shook his head. “Ronnie, Linette and I are just friends.”

  “Does she know that? The way she looks at you, it doesn’t seem so.”

  From the sheepish look on his face, she could see he was well aware that Linette Laney’s feelings were a little more than philia.

  “Do you want dessert?” he asked as he dabbed the corners of his mouth with a napkin.

  Obviously, David wasn’t about to discuss his relationship with the woman. Ronnie decided not to press him. It wasn’t her business anyway. It wasn’t as though anything was going on in her own situation with David.

  “You brought dessert too?” she asked.

  “Pumpkin pie.”

  “I’m really quite stuffed, David. I can’t eat another thing.”

  “We can wait a while.”

  Ronnie’s heart skipped a beat. The implication was that he wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

  “Have you got any coffee?” he asked.

  Soon David was sipping coffee as he sat beside her on the balcony. Ronnie pulled her feet under her and nestled into the sofa. As she covertly observed him, her mind drifted to that night at the bar and lounge when he had rushed to her rescue.

  “There’s something I’ve always wanted to ask you about that night at the bar.”

  David glanced at her. “What’s that?”

  “Where did you learn to fight like that? I was really impressed. You were incredible.”

  He turned his attention to the celestial heavens and after a while said softly, “Military school.”

  Ronnie’s eyes widened.

  “You attended military school. How come?”

  “Ask Darrell Jones.”

  “I’m asking David Jones,” she said boldly, determined not to be fazed by his dismissive response. “Did you require discipline?”

  “Maybe my father thought so. It was right on the heels of a fight I got into in Washington one summer. I broke someone’s nose. His father was a federal judge. I almost ended up a juvenile delinquent.”

  “My goodness.”

  “It’s true. Do you still think I’m incredible?”

  Their gazes met, and she swallowed. ‘Oh, yes,’ she almost breathed. Instead, she muttered, “I know you. There must have been a good reason.”

  He leaned over to her.

  “It was over a girl. Do you know me as well as you think?” he said in a dangerously soft tone, so close to her she could feel his breath on her cheek.

  Her heart was beating so hard in her chest she could hardly hear anything else. She couldn’t stop herself. She reached out and touched his cheek. His eyes closed and he inhaled deeply as he covered her hand with his. A minute later he released her hand and glanced at his watch.

  “It’s getting late.”

  “It’s not that late,” she said hurriedly, sitting up. “I’ve got this great movie for you to watch.”

  His face relaxed a little.

  “Is that right?”

  Ronnie nodded. “Uh huh.”

  “What’s it called?”

  “The Princess Bride.”

  He raised a single brow.

  “A chick flick.”

  “Oh, no! It’s really action-packed.”

  Ronnie led the way to the living room, found and inserted the DVD into the player, and in no time the two were comfortably seated side by side on the couch watching the film.

  They laughed together and occasionally talked, but mostly they just watched.

  At some point, Ronnie paused the movie to get slices of pumpkin pie for the two of them. Like the rest of the meal, it was divine.

  After the movie Ronnie made hot chocolate, and they returned to her balcony to sit and sip the sweet, comforting drink as they watched the stars.

  David said, “You’re telling me that this was, for you, an almost perfect movie even though there was action? I thought you told me that action scenes are a big yawn and that most movies can do without them.”

  “Generally, that’s true. I hate those crazy noisy blockbuster movies where a good fifteen minutes is spent on a car chase. That’s what I love about this film. It has everything. There’s romance, with the right mix of comedy, action, suspense and medieval fantasy.”

  “Okay, but overall what was the highlight for you?”

  “I’m a die-hard romantic, so any scene that featured both Wesley and Buttercup.”

  “Even the scenes where they’re fighting?

  “Yes. What’s a good romance without a little tension here and there?”

  “So are you one of those women who has a stash of steamy romance novels hidden in her closet somewhere.”

  “What do you know about steamy romance novels, David Jones?”

  “I know a whole lot about them. I have a younger sister who was a romantic like you and I used to hide her novels just to torture her. Or read out the steamy parts to Mom and Dad at breakfast so that she’d get into trouble.”

  “Doesn’t seem like you were a very nice big brother at all.”

  “I was your typical big brother, and she was your typical annoying little sister.”

  “David, you once said that you and your family never discussed your mother’s death. What happened?”

  He breathed deeply before replying.

  “Like them, I was understandably enraged that the actions of that irresponsible drunk had taken my mother’s life. A few months later, though, I felt that God was urging me to visit the man in prison and extend God’s saving grace to him. He cried like a baby that day. I was just obeying God. I didn’t expect that he’d respond the way he did. He turned his life around. I visited him a few more times after that, prayed for him, encouraged him. At my urging, he began a ministry in that prison. My father was incensed when he found out. He told me that I cared more about strangers than my own family.”

  “David,” she reached out and gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. He covered it with his own.

  “But you haven’t answered my question about the steamy romance novels,” he reminded her.
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br />   She swallowed, nervous by his question. Why had he changed the subject so abruptly? It was as though he was determined not to let her get too close. She decided to go with the flow.

  “The short answer is no.”

  “And the long answer.”

  “The long answer is that when I was a teenager, I used to devour those things, but when I met Christ at the age of sixteen, I found more value in devouring the Bible and Christian-based literature.”

  “You know it’s really cool that someone like you loves the Lord.”

  “What do you mean someone like me?”

  “Someone who’s beautiful, smart, talented and rich. Most people who have all that this world esteems don’t think they need a savior. They believe that their money and influence will get them all they need in this life.”

  “The same could be said about you,” she returned with a self-conscious smile.

  He smiled back, then glanced at his watch and with seeming reluctance said, “It’s 9 o’clock. I think I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

  “You could never overstay your welcome,” she said quietly but closed her mouth before she could say anything more incriminating.

  “You’re so beautiful,’ he said.

  Then, as though he couldn’t help himself, David leaned forward and captured her mouth in a searing kiss. Ronnie leaned into him, wanting more. They kissed long and deep, and when they came up for air, David gulped and got to his feet. He took her hand in his and gently kissed it.

  “Have a goodnight,” he said. And a minute later he was gone.

  Chapter 18

  “Come on, Dave. Don’t quit now. Just two more. That’s it. One more.”

  David's muscles reached the point of failure as he completed the set. Kirt Brown took the barbells away from him and returned them to the stand.

  David had met Kirt at Harvard. At first, they hadn’t hit it off. David had found Kirt to be a little rough around the edges, to put it mildly. When the young man in the baggy jeans and sweatshirt with a rhinestone stud in both ears and a snapback cap on his head had sauntered into the classroom, David had immediately dismissed him as a thug. He had even wondered how on earth the guy had made it to Harvard.

  Then after class, David had been sitting with a group of guys in the cafeteria having lunch when Kirt plunked down next to him with a “’sup dawgs?”

  David had felt his stomach churn, and his appetite dissolve. He had said as little to Kirt as possible but that hadn’t stopped Kirt from rattling on and on. In fact, he had seemed oblivious to David’s dislike. He’d dogged after him like he was his new best friend. As much as David hated it, he didn’t want to point blank refuse to speak with him. He had been bred with good manners after all.

  During that period, David had discovered something about himself that wasn’t very flattering: He was a snob.

  In as much as he had accompanied his mother to her forays into the inner city and the slums to help the less fortunate, had hung out with the young boys in the inner city neighborhoods, had sat in their homes and ate their food, deep down he had seen these souls as somehow less than himself. They were people, sure, but not his breed of people. They were a grade of humans who needed help, who needed pity. Suddenly, he was confronted with someone from the slums who didn’t want his help or his pity. He wanted nothing from him, except for his friendship.

  David had wanted to judge him and dismiss him and feel superior to him, but Kirt made that impossible. He was unpolished, yes. He was tactless, yes. At times, he was even uncouth. But he was also sincere, exceptionally kind, loyal, generous, and smart. And as he began to actually listen to instead of ignoring him, David realized that Kirt was there through a sports scholarship. The guy not only had athletic prowess he also had brains. After he had left Chicago University, he had decided to attend Harvard Law School instead of going pro just then.

  When David had asked why Harvard, he’d said, “Because nobody where I come from ever went to Harvard.”

  That’s when David learned he was from one of Chicago’s inner cities. He had once been involved in a gang but was able to get out because of his grandmother’s ceaseless prayer for him and because his talent had been spotted by a football scout. He’d been signed on with the proviso that his grades had to also meet the mark and that was what he did.

  They became an unlikely pair; boy from the wrong side of the tracks and boy born with the silver spoon in his mouth. Yet, they became closer than brothers.

  David caught his breath and rested for a minute. When he could speak again, he said, “Tell me that was the last set.”

  Kirt grunted and shook his head.

  “You’ve gone soft that’s for sure. Years ago you used to make me look like a wimp.”

  He threw David a towel as he went over to the small refrigerator in the corner of the room and took out two bottles of water. He tossed one to David.

  David caught the bottle with one hand and made a face at his friend. Kirt was able to spend that Thanksgiving weekend home with his family because it happened to fall during the Bears’ bye week that year.

  “You are such a show-off. You’re a pro ball player. You should be super fit. I sit behind a desk all day.”

  Kirt began to stretch as he replied to David.

  “You act like you can’t take a little teasing. You have not gotten soft sitting behind that desk. Physique wise you’ve done really well, my friend. It still amazes me that you can keep up your workout regimen with a job like yours. You’re one of the most disciplined people I know. I really admire that about you.”

  Discipline. David’s favorite word.

  He had finished high school in a military school because he had been dubbed by his father as undisciplined. He had vowed that adjective would never apply to him again. He wore discipline like a crown now. But had it become a god to him?

  David drained the bottle of water and lowered himself to the floor to follow Kirt’s lead. He stretched his long legs out before him and then proceeded to reach for them. He felt the immediate resistance on his hamstrings as they responded to the stretching of the muscles.

  “Kirt, do you think someone can ever be too disciplined?”

  “Too disciplined? That’s a good one. I never thought of that. What prompted that train of thought?”

  David shrugged. “I’m beginning to wonder if I have become so proud of being self-disciplined that I have let it become a stumbling block to me.”

  “Man, sometimes you can go so deep you scare simple guys like me.”

  “I’m serious. Consider this. I define self-discipline as doing things you know you should do but don’t feel like doing. There is a danger, however, that sometimes doing things religiously can become an obsession.”

  “How’s becoming obsessed with doing the right thing bad?”

  Aligning his thoughts, David took in a deep breath.

  “Okay. Let’s take what we’re doing. Working out. It’s a good thing, right. But if it becomes an obsession, like you’re working out too often, then it becomes bad for you. At that point not working out, that is reducing work out time, becomes the correct thing to do to balance things. Get it?”

  “What you’re saying is that too much of anything is a bad thing. Like too much saving can make you a miser.”

  “Precisely.”

  “And too much work can make you a workaholic.”

  “That’s right.”

  “And too much hypothesizing can make you a crashing bore.”

  David threw his empty bottle at Kirt’s head.

  Several minutes later, in David’s expansive kitchen with the island and the breakfast nook and the breathtaking view of the lake shore, he perched on a wooden bar stool sipping black coffee while Kirt prepared his latest health food smoothie.

  “Does this soul-searching exercise have anything to do with why you were missing in action last night?”

  “Somewhat.”

  “You know how to stretch out the suspense don’t you?�
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  David sighed. “Remember Ronnie Dickson, the young lady I introduced you to a few months ago as my new assistant?”

  “Of course I remember. Do you remember me asking you afterward how you got any work done around there and you banishing me from your office?”

  Kirt had met Ronnie one evening when he had dropped by after working hours for some legal advice. David had introduced them when Ronnie came into his office.

  After she had left, Kirt had given a low whistle and turned to him. “When you told me you had a new assistant you didn’t tell me she was a supermodel. How do you get any work done, bro?”

  David now gave Kirt a wry smile.

  “I spent the evening with her.”

  “What! You’re having an affair with your assistant?”

  “Of course not! Are you out of your mind?”

  Kirt looked confused. “But you said…”

  “I had dinner with her at her place. That was all.”

  “Okay. No need to get so touchy. But why would you have dinner with your assistant if you haven’t got something going with her?”

  David pursed his lips. “Long story. The point is though that it wasn’t my intention to do more than have dinner with her, but I wound up kissing her. I mean really kissing her. In fact, that was the second time I kissed her.”

  “I can’t say I blame you. That girl’s a knockout.”

  David shook his head.

  “I want to pursue a relationship with her, Kirt, but I don’t see how I can.”

  Kirt rinsed a bunch of kale in the vegetable sink. “Why not?” He stripped up the kale and stuffed it in the blender.

  “I’m her boss. I have a responsibility to her and every other employee at Jones Law to do the right thing.”

  Kirt reached for some linseed oil and drizzled in a few teaspoons. He then added some apple juice to the mixture. Conversation ceased for a couple of minutes as he started the blender.

  When the blender stopped Kirt said, “So is this how we get to the self-discipline thing? And how doing the right thing can become the wrong thing? Are you questioning if disciplining yourself and not dating her has become an obsession and hence the wrong thing? And that you should do the right thing by dating her?”