Rich in Faith (Richness in Faith, Book 3)

by Peterson, Lindi

  Knowing Mrs. Stratton would never leave one door unlocked, I know Court is outside.

  Or was.

  I’m betting he wouldn’t leave the door like that if he had come back inside.

  With a bold sense of confidence, I walk toward the door, unsure of what lies on the other side.

  This door doesn’t creak like I hope it will, so now it’s up to me to announce my own presence.

  I see Court sitting by the pool. He’s sitting on a bench seat with plenty of room for two, which excites me on one hand, and scares me on the other.

  He still doesn’t notice me.

  “Would you like to join me?”

  Oh.

  Maybe he does.

  Pulling the door tight, I walk the few steps that separate me from Court. Soft lights glow as the moon is backing off its fullness from the night in the mountains.

  Lowering myself next to Court, I notice my hands shake a little as I brace them on the bench.

  I also notice Court watching me.

  “I had fun today.”

  I like the sound of his voice. “Me, too.”

  “Better than sitting behind my desk.”

  “Much better,” I add, refusing to think about all the days I’ve spent behind a desk and away from the sunshine.

  His fingers touch my hair. “I like the smell of your shampoo.”

  He should. I pay over twenty dollars for one bottle. “Thanks.”

  “Can’t place the scent, though. Some kind of fruit?”

  I shrug, not looking at him. “I’m not sure.”

  “I want to kiss you. May I?”

  Slivers of chills cover me at his soft words. I’ve never had anyone ask to kiss me before. It’s kind of nice. “Yes,” I respond probably much too quickly, but not caring as everything inside of me sears with anticipation of his lips on mine.

  Will I stop breathing?

  Melt?

  Or simply come alive as I blossom into his kiss.

  I feel his finger under my chin, turning my face toward him.

  It’s a good thing he’s helping.

  He leans toward me.

  I close my eyes as I move to meet him.

  His lips.

  They touch mine and I tremble, wanting to wrap my arms around him and pull him close.

  His hand cups the side of my face as he kisses me into a mind-numbing state where no thoughts exist because they are insignificant compared to the feel of who he is.

  I place my hand on the back of his neck, my fingers reveling in the softness of his hair. It’s like silk to my fingertips.

  Our lips part.

  My forehead rests against his, like this is what we do after we kiss. I have no words.

  I have an ache.

  An ache for his lips to be on mine.

  I turn my head slightly and make that move. His breath hitches and I feel his heart beat as I move my hand to his chest, no shirt able to conceal the racing beneath.

  In a swift movement, he scoops me onto his lap and I sit, legs dangling over his.

  I fit perfectly.

  We continue to kiss. Years of pent-up passion have been unleashed, waiting for this moment and this moment alone.

  Nothing else exists right now except for our kisses.

  Our discovery of each other.

  His hands caress my hair, while his lips kiss their way over my chin, to my ear lobe then down my neck. Only to start again when I capture his lips in mine.

  It’s a cycle I don’t want to end.

  But as his lips nuzzle my neck, my brain pushes through the fog he has created.

  And I rest.

  I lean against his body, my head on his shoulder, as we both breathe in the night air.

  His fingers gently trace mindless patterns on my arm which is slightly pink from our outing today.

  My brain is telling me I should feel awkward or embarrassed, but I don’t. I feel like I belong right here, in his lap, waiting for him to kiss me again.

  And again.

  “Can we sleep here?” His voice is husky, raw, like his kisses.

  “I’m fine with it.” I wrap my arm tighter around him, solidifying my words.

  My words which came out raspy and breathless like I’m feeling inside.

  “Just like this.” He unwraps my arm from around him, brings my palm to his lips, and kisses it.

  Softly.

  He kisses it again and I can’t fathom how I could feel any more than I’m feeling now if we were to continue this relationship. My whole body is about to burst from simply kissing him.

  I give up my relaxed state to capture his lips. He responds with a need as strong as mine.

  Like we’re drinking water after a long thirst.

  “Sleep is overrated,” he whispers between kisses.

  “Very overrated,” I whisper back.

  I want him to kiss me from my head to my toes, even though I don’t think I’d live through it.

  It would be worth dying for.

  As he continues to melt me with his lips, my mind freight trains its way to months from now.

  Days from now.

  Hours from now.

  Minutes.

  He kisses me with abandonment. Like he’s letting loose.

  Like he’s trying to rid himself of the same demons I’m trying to rid myself of.

  I reluctantly end our kiss and instead, with only inches separating us, stare into his eyes.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I lie.

  “I want to ask you to stay with me tonight.”

  My mind tumbles. “Court—”

  His finger touches my lips, cutting off my words.

  “But I want more than that. I want to know more about you. I want to know your favorite color, your favorite food. I already know your favorite wine.”

  And with those words, all the warmth he created that flows through my body turns to ice.

  He knows nothing about me.

  And what he thinks he knows, he doesn’t.

  “Tell me you want to know more about me. Tell me you’re interested.”

  The ice continues to flow as I want to scream I already know so much about you.

  “Shelby, tell me.”

  “I…”

  He cups my face, and crushes my lips with another amazing kiss which he ends quickly. “You don’t kiss like we kiss when you don’t feel.”

  I wiggle off his lap, the absence of him stronger than I had imagined. Once again, my hands tremble, but this time for a whole different reason. “The problem with kissing away the demons from the past is that we’re creating new demons for the future.”

  Shivering, I rub my arms as I make my way to the door, each step harder than the last.

  Each step making me more miserable.

  Each step necessary.

  MIND-BLOWING

  I AWAKE EARLY the next morning, but I lie in bed until I hear Mrs. Stratton arrive and Court leave.

  When the sound of his car is gone, I shower, wondering how I’m ever going to face him again.

  I swear my lips are still swollen from his kisses.

  Thinking of kisses inspires sensations I hadn’t felt until last night.

  It’s funny the real feelings need can create.

  He has a need.

  I have a need.

  Maybe we kissed our needs away in the dark of the night, and we can move forward now.

  For a few hours yesterday I thought that life could be different. Easy. With Court.

  But passion has a funny way of revealing truth.

  And the truth is we both are plagued by our pasts.

  And we can’t have a future together.

  Once in the kitchen I pour myself a much needed cup of coffee and gulp down a swig of the hot liquid.

  “Slow down, honey. That’ll burn your throat,” Mrs. Stratton says.

  I hold up my hand indicating I know what she says is true and slide onto a barstool.

  Even the pain of t
he hot liquid on my tongue and then my throat can’t erase the sensation of Court’s amazing kisses.

  “No running today?” she asks.

  “No. Not today.” My body had a workout last night, but I’m not telling Mrs. Stratton that.

  “Mr. Treyhune looked like the devil himself this morning, all broody and scowling.”

  I raise my eyebrows.

  “And you,” she points to me, “look like the she-devil.”

  Resisting the urge to spew the coffee I just sipped, I shrug my shoulders.

  “Never seen Mr. Treyhune in a state like this.”

  I know she wants me to ask “like what” but I refuse. I’m not falling into her trap.

  Instead I take another sip of coffee.

  Mrs. Stratton walks to the refrigerator, opens it and pulls out the creamer I’ve been using. After she pours some into my coffee, keeping her eyes on mine, she sets the creamer by the coffee pot like I do each morning.

  “Seems you’re somewhat forgetful this morning.”

  “Seems so.”

  Forgetful, confused and falling in love.

  This time I do spew my coffee.

  “I’m sorry.” I slide off the bar stool in search of a towel.

  “Sit,” she says, motioning to me. “Sit. I’ll take care of it.”

  I take my place at the bar wishing Mrs. Stratton really could take care of it.

  NEEDING A TOTAL distraction from not only Court, but the house, I drag the girls next door. I ring the doorbell as Bristol and Darling are both still protesting.

  “We don’t even know this girl or anyone who lives here. Talk about awkward.” Bristol stomps her foot and crosses her arms.

  Darling copies her, but with much less enthusiasm.

  “I’m sure she’s a very nice girl.”

  “Oh, this is embarrassing,” Bristol says as the front door opens.

  “Can I help you?” a woman dressed in a uniform much like Mrs. Stratton’s asks.

  “Yes,” I say, realizing how right Bristol is. This is awkward. But it’s better than being in the Treyhune mansion today. “Is Jenny or Stephen here?”

  “They are. May I tell them who’s calling?”

  “We’re not calling. We’re standing here,” Bristol says.

  I give Bristol a look, but she doesn’t recognize it as a look. “Calling can mean different things. Not just the phone. I apologize,” I say to the woman. “We’re the neighbors. Actually, they’re the neighbors.” I point to Bristol and Darling. “I’m the nanny.”

  The nanny that kissed their very handsome yet off limits father until she was senseless last night. That nanny.

  My face reddens as my lips tingle at the memory of last night’s intimacy.

  “Come in. I’ll tell them you’re here.”

  We follow the woman to the living room and sit on the couch as she disappears. Moments later, Stephen and Jenny come into the room, followed by a girl that looks to be the same age as Team Twin.

  Her hair is dark like Team Twin, but it’s cut above her shoulders in a cute bob. No tangles.

  Easy to maintain, I bet.

  “Hi, Shelby. Good to see you again.” Stephen nods toward the girls. “I see you’ve brought the twins over.”

  “I have. As promised.”

  “We’re glad you did,” Jenny says, putting her arm around the girl that came in with them. “This is Phoebe.”

  “Hi, Phoebe. I’ve brought Bristol and Darling over. Us grown-ups thought you guys might like to play together, or hang out, whatever it’s called now.”

  “I’d like that, but we’re getting ready for vacation Bible school.”

  “What’s that?” Bristol asks.

  Boy, these kids have been sheltered. “It’s when a lot of kids get together and learn stories from the Bible. It’s usually lasts about a week.”

  Jenny smiles. “Ours is less than a week. We’re actually starting tomorrow and going through Saturday morning. The kids are putting on a show Sunday morning. Hey, Bristol and Darling should come.” Jenny looks at me like it’s the most natural thing in the world for Team Twin to jump in.

  “I’ll have to talk it over with their dad.” Oh, which means I’ll have to face him.

  And not kiss him.

  Redirection of thoughts needed immediately.

  “Do you girls want to come and see what we have ready so far? We could always use an extra set of helping hands.” Jenny rests her hand on Phoebe’s shoulder.

  “Helping?” Bristol looks at me. “Like we helped those kids who didn’t have any toys?”

  “Yes. That’s helping. Would you girls like to help Phoebe?”

  Bristol shrugs. “I guess.”

  Phoebe holds out her hand. “Come on.”

  Bristol looks perplexed. “I’m over here.”

  “Phoebe’s blind,” Jenny says.

  “Blind? You mean you can’t see with your eyes?” Darling asks.

  “No, I can’t.”

  “Wow.” Bristol’s eyes are now Darling-wide. “I’ve never met a blind person before. This is cool.”

  “I’m just like you, but I can’t see. I’m sure there are things you can’t do, aren’t there?”

  “I guess,” Bristol says.

  “Let’s go, then.” Stephen looks at me. “Come on back. We’ll show you around.”

  We all traipse down the hall and enter a room that used to be a garage. But now it’s carpeted, and painted. There’s even a stage built at one end.

  Small tables are set up with chairs around them. Booklets are on the table along with crayons and papers.

  “Cool,” Bristol says, sliding into one of the chairs.

  “Oh, no.” I tap Bristol on the top of her head. “That’s for tomorrow, I’m sure. Get up.”

  Jenny waves her hand in the air. “She can color. We have plenty of paper.”

  Now Bristol gives me a look and starts coloring.

  “Guess you’ll miss out on helping then,” I say to Bristol.

  “There’s plenty to do,” Jenny says. “We were just about to organize the snacks, weren’t we Phoebe?”

  “We were. Do you guys want to help?” Phoebe asks.

  “I do,” Darling says.

  Bristol continues to sit and color while Darling follows Phoebe and Jenny.

  “If you need a break, you can leave them. Come back in about an hour or so?”

  He has no idea this is my break. Being around Team Twin and now Stephen, Jenny and Phoebe keep my thoughts away from Court and all that transpired last night.

  And that crazy thought about love this morning.

  Although watching Stephen watch Jenny is love happening in the present. The way they look at each other practically heats the air around them. I wonder what it’s like to be secure in a love like that.

  I never felt that way with Dale.

  Thinking about my mom and dad, I realize they love like this. Hard and true and without doubt. Not that there aren’t any hard times, but knowing your heart is secure in someone else’s must be amazing.

  Must make pushing through the tough times worth it. And as a couple you come out stronger through the fire than when you started into it.

  That’s the kind of love I want.

  And I’m not going to find that with Court.

  “Shelby, will you stay?”

  I look at Bristol, her hair behind her ears, eyes pleading with me. “Yes. I’ll stay.”

  She smiles and continues to color.

  “Well, if you’re staying we can use your help.”

  “I’ll do whatever.” Anything to keep my mind away from Court Treyhune.

  I PUT THE GIRLS to bed even though they haven’t seen their father. It’s a little after nine, and they are exhausted. We stayed at Jenny and Stephen’s for almost three hours and left with a promise to be back in the morning at eight for vacation Bible school providing Court doesn’t have any objections.

  I should call him.

  Although I hate calling wh
en it isn’t an emergency.

  Somehow talking to him on the phone seems just as awkward as it will be to see him in person.

  Maybe even more so, because he might read things into the phone call that aren’t there.

  Or are there, but I don’t want him to know.

  No, it’s best to face him. In fact, it might be a great icebreaker into segueing things back to where they were before he kissed life into me.

  I settle in his office with the homeschooling files. I notice the financial statements and check copies he had printed out are on the other desk, the one with the computer on it.

  I look at the financial statements. He’s printed six months worth, and things were steady until April. May looks even worse.

  Quickly locating the payroll accounts, I find those expenses went up a little each month. So, while overall profits have gone down, payroll expenses have not.

  And neither have the other expenses.

  Advertising has almost doubled.

  Did Court notice that?

  I’m sure he did. That’s the account a couple of those checks were posted to.

  Placing the financials back where I found them, I realize I need to quit being concerned about his business. It’s none of my business. He’s been doing this without me for many years.

  Still, as I look through the homeschool items, my mind keeps drifting back to numbers that don’t make sense.

  “Hi.”

  As much as I’ve prepared all day to hear his voice, I find I’m not prepared at all for the sound of it.

  “Hi.” Even though I’m sitting at his desk, I don’t feel protected by it. His presence shatters any barrier I might have imagined between us.

  His gaze captures mine and doesn’t let go. “I waited for you this morning.”

  He did? “I overslept.”

  “On purpose?”

  “Maybe.”

  “You kind of crushed me last night the way you left. Good thing I don’t have an ego.”

  What made me think I could avoid this topic? What made me think we could pretend last night didn’t happen and pick up with Team Twin’s schedule and issues? “I thought I explained myself.”

  He chuckles. “Your explanation required an explanation. Demons? Really?”

  “You know what I’m talking about.”

  He sits on the loveseat. “I’m not sure that I do. When I was kissing you, all I could picture in my mind was your face. Your beautiful face. What were you picturing?”

  “You, of course.” This isn’t going my way at all. He’s missing the point.