by Ava Miles
“I wouldn’t wish this spectrum on my worst enemy, ma’am,” he told her. “War isn’t what I want for this world.”
Her smile was brief. “It’s not what I want either, but it exists, and you experienced it. Others have, and others will again. I don’t like divorce or child abuse either, but they exist too. Grace is how we overcome it and then do what we can to help others heal.”
Heal. There was that elusive word again. “I’m afraid some things can’t be mended.”
This time she shook her head at him. “I don’t believe that. I won’t say it’ll be easy, but if you want healing badly enough, you’ll find it. Showing up today at my church told me you want it. Badly enough to sit through my sermon and not walk out like another might have.”
He grimaced at that.
She laughed. “I’ve had people walk out, Jake. I know it’s not about my words.”
He felt that way about his songs, so he understood. Sometimes people were just haters, and that was on them. “I do want to be okay again. More than anything.” And dammit, if it wasn’t hard to admit it to her, both as a preacher and Susannah’s mama.
“Anything we discuss will be completely between us. I know you have relationships with people in my family. You can trust me, Jake.”
He realized he was fidgeting, and he forced himself to stop. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, ma’am.”
“It’s Louisa, and you don’t have to be completely sure of me yet.” She patted his chest again. “Give me your number, and I’ll text you the names and numbers of some of the men I’ve helped. You can talk to them and see what you want to do. Come once and try it. You might be surprised. Some men don’t think I’m tough enough to hear their stories. Those men are wrong.”
“The steel in your spine isn’t in question…ah…Louisa.” He dug into his pocket for his phone. “Give me your number, and I’ll call you right now so you have it.” If he didn’t, he might just up and leave. Maybe when he talked to some of the other vets she’d helped, he’d be more sure of her.
She dictated her number, and he let it ring twice before hanging up. Her smile was open and generous, and he found himself smiling back at her in spite of his now greasy stomach.
“You want to date my daughter,” Louisa said suddenly.
“Are you always this tenacious?” he asked, his head darting back. “No offense, but you’re like a pit bull.”
Her smile only widened. “Why, thank you. I like being a pit bull for God. Trust me, I’ve dealt with enough men to know some of them have to be poked, prodded, and pulled along to get them to open up. You open up in your music, but not many other places. Am I right?”
“I…don’t like talking about my time in the Army.” He paused. “I don’t much like talking about myself period. Even for my career. I just want to sing.”
“J.P. was a lot like that,” she said, her gaze tracking back to the house. “It’s why he left the stage and decided to write music with artists like you. The other stuff was starting to spoil the thing he loved.”
Jake understood. Sometimes he found himself considering whether the price of fame was too high. But every time he thought about what else he might do, nothing came to mind. He was a singer. Going back to the Army would never be an option.
“I should go,” he said, walking to the driver’s side of his truck. “I’ll talk to the vets and let you know what I decide.”
“You still didn’t answer me about Susannah,” she said, and darn it all, if she didn’t step right up to him and look him straight in the eye. “You’re afraid to date her because you’re still suffering from PTSD. Hiring her as your decorator was to keep her close to you. As a move, it’s not a wise one, but I understand it.”
He kicked at the ground. Had he said a pit bull? She was as fierce as a fire-blowing dragon intent on finding a chest of gold. “Is this between us?”
She nodded crisply. “Confidentiality kicked in the minute we left the house.”
“Then, yes, I really like your daughter. She’s amazing…but I’m…well, I’m broken.”
He took a few steps off and clenched his fists. He wanted to hit the frame of his truck, which wasn’t at all like him, but she was stirring up so many deeply buried feelings. More than she had with her sermon.
“You’re not broken, Jake,” she told him, putting a hand on his back and rubbing it in soothing circles. “You just need to remember that you’re whole. I want to help you remember, and I hope you’ll let me. I’ll send you those names.”
And with a last motherly pat on the back, she left him alone in a silence brimming with hope.
Chapter 8
Susannah was still reeling from Sunday’s embarrassment of being nudged by Rye to walk out with Jake. Tory had taken her aside and said it wouldn’t happen again. Her sisters had wisely remained silent, but her mama… Well, that woman was on a mission to help Jake, and she knew to stay out of her way.
When she arrived at Jake’s house the following Tuesday, Susannah put on a smile and walked to his front door. Jake was opening it as she reached the top step.
“Mornin’,” he said in that sexy way of his.
His smile was slightly crooked, as if he too was feeling uncomfortable about Sunday. In a nod to the fifty-degree weather, the sleeves of his white button-down shirt were rolled up, showing off his forearms. Somehow that was sexy too. And the way his jeans fit his legs was slightly indecent if you asked her, since it made her think about running her hands down them. His stag belt buckle was way too compelling to ignore, which meant her eyes flashed to the bulge there before darting back to his face. God, had he noticed she was checking him out? Pink stained her cheeks.
“Good morning!” she said way too brightly. “Are you ready to buy some furniture?”
“Yep,” he said and then patted his behind.
For a moment, she feared he’d read her mind, but then he said, “Got my wallet right here.”
Oh. Lucky wallet. “Would you like me to drive?”
“Nope. I don’t mean to be sexist, but when I’m with a woman, I like to drive. It’s a courtesy.”
Actually, she couldn’t deny that she liked gentlemanly courtesies like that. There was something nice about it as far as she was concerned. And sue her if that made her less modern. She also liked men to pump the gas.
“Works for me.”
“Good. I made sure my truck was clean.”
They walked over to it, and sure enough, the vehicle looked like it had recently been detailed. “Are you this…ah…tidy because you were in the military?”
He hooted. “Heavens, no. It was my mama. She didn’t like a mess. I don’t either.”
She stored that information away for decorating his home. He wouldn’t want lots of knickknacks around. “What’s your mama like?”
His shoulders tensed as he opened the truck door for her. “She’s a quiet woman. Just does what she’s told mostly. We…don’t speak now. My daddy was none too happy with me for leaving the military, and since she goes along with him, we lost track of each other. My brother too.”
It seemed there was more to the story, but she knew better than to dig. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure you miss them.”
He shrugged. “I stopped missing them when I went to war. I realized we weren’t really a family. We were only related to each other. I found my true family in the military.”
“I’m glad you found people of like minds,” she said as she got into the truck. “It’s important. Do you keep in touch with any of the men you served with?”
“Yes.” After closing the door behind her, he walked around the cab and got settled in the driver’s seat. “Only with three of them, but they don’t live in Tennessee. Monty got married this year and lives in Georgia, but Darren and Randy are still single. They live out West. We try and get together every year, and I see them on tour if one of my concerts is nearby.”
“I’m happy to hear you have such good friends,” she said, adjusting
her seatbelt. “Are they still serving?”
“No, they got out like I did. Monty had to, but that’s another story. Too many tours. It…puts pressure on a person.” He shook himself as he put the car in gear. “Now, you…well, your whole family is what it’s all about. It’s clear y’all would do anything for each other.”
“We would,” she said cautiously, sensing the change in his mood. “And that brings up a sensitive topic.”
He turned his head to look at her as he drove down his long driveway. “What’s that?”
“My mama can be a determined woman.” She made a grimace.
“Amen,” he said, making her laugh.
“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable about her wish to…ah…” Gosh, what was she supposed to call it?
“Help me get in touch with my feelings?” Now he did laugh, but it was bitter. “Many have tried. It only seems to work with my music. But I talked to some of the vets she’s helped, and they all sang her praises. They called her a miracle worker.”
Her mama had given Jake references? Well, well. She’d only mentioned her offer to counsel him. “She is that, but I don’t want you to be uncomfortable while we’re working together.”
He turned onto the country road that would lead them to a highway. “Is your mama planning on helping us pick out furniture today?”
Her brow knit. “Ah…no.”
“Then I don’t see a problem.” He slowed down when they came across some turkeys from a nearby farm scooting across the road. “That farmer really needs to do something about those birds. Every time I see one of them on the road, all I can think of is Thanksgiving.”
Her lips twitched. “They weren’t out when I went by. It’s a good thing this is a quiet road.”
“They like to taunt me,” he said, stopping the truck as three more ran across the pavement.
She leaned forward to watch their flight. They were rather adorable with all their…what did you call it? Gobbling? She felt his eyes on her, and suddenly it was impossible to ignore him. Her body tingled in response.
“Susannah,” he said quietly.
Even though she knew it was a mistake, she looked at him. The blues in his eyes were darker now, and there was tension in his jaw.
“You need to know that I need a miracle,” he continued in that same soft tone.
The gobble of the turkeys in the background disappeared, and all she could do was fall into his eyes.
“If your mama can help with that, then I’d be forever in her debt.” He took a breath and let it out. “There are things that I want. Things I can’t let myself have until…something like that happens.”
In that moment, she knew he was talking about her. She’d always been able to read between the lines. When he rested his hand on the back of her seat, right above her shoulder, it was close enough that she could feel the warmth of his skin.
“I want you to have the things you want, Jake,” she whispered. “You deserve them.”
He swallowed thickly. “I don’t know about that, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting them.”
At the agony she heard in his voice, she turned in her seat and reached for his hand. He took it without hesitation. The spark that shot up her arm at his touch was nothing compared to the tingling in her heart.
And then he stared straight into her eyes again. In those blue depths was a vulnerability she hadn’t seen before.
“You deserve good things too,” he said in that same hushed tone.
“There are things I want,” she admitted quietly. “When you want them—the wishes in your heart—you have to do everything you can to get them. And to pray for them to come. We don’t have to do it all alone.”
His sigh was audible. “I don’t know if I believe that anymore.”
She stroked the back of his hand with her thumb. “There’s always the promise of rainbows, right?”
“Right,” he admitted, although she knew he didn’t believe it yet.
His thumb joined hers in the caress, and though it was such a simple touch, it felt like an erotic dance—all the more surprising for its simplicity. From day one, the power of their connection had redefined her experience with men. She fought the urge to nestle close and lay her head on his shoulder.
A car honked, and he looked over his shoulder. “I guess we ought to mosey. Lost track of time there…with the…um…turkeys.”
Susannah wanted to bless those turkeys for giving them this moment. His fingers traced the inside of her palm one last time before he released her hand and resumed their drive.
She sat back in her seat and kept her eyes on the road, awash in sensation. Those confused signals she’d been getting from him made sense to her now. She would have to trust her mama to help him as he helped himself. And she’d pray—harder and longer than she’d done before.
When he parked in the lot of the furniture megaplex, he turned in his seat to face her. “I’m going to see your mama, Susannah. And then…we’ll see what happens.”
The breath froze in her chest. He planned to ask her out! She just knew it.
“Okay,” she said, giving him what she hoped was an encouraging smile.
It must have been because he opened his palm to her again. She didn’t hesitate. She took it and felt her heart explode with joy. They held hands for several moments longer, gazing into each other’s eyes until the corner of his mouth finally tipped up.
“I guess I’m back to holding your hand.”
“I guess you are.”
And when he let go of it to leave the truck, she pressed it to her happy heart and waited for him to open the door for her.
Chapter 9
Jake hadn’t expected furniture shopping to turn into a date, but darn it all if it hadn’t. As he and Susannah walked around the old mill that had been converted into a fancy showroom, he pretty much flirted with her unmercifully. And wasn’t it a delightful surprise when she flirted right back.
“Who in the world would ever buy this?” he asked, tapping the head of an alligator smoking a cigar.
“Someone who misses Florida?” she quipped.
So far, she’d had a witty reply for every comment he’d thrown out. Seeing this side of her only made him want to kiss her pretty smile. She was having a good time, and he couldn’t be happier. Especially after their moment in the truck.
“And what about this?” he asked, gesturing to a trio of pewter mice who were obviously running in place.
“An angry cheesemonger? Maybe he wants to send a message.”
“Don’t mess with my cheese,” he finished for her in an ominous voice.
They both laughed, and he fought the urge to reach out and take her hand again. But they were in public now, and even though the sales person was giving them space after delivering a brief greeting, he was still hovering in the showroom.
“Okay,” Susannah said, putting her hands on her hips. “Let’s get serious. We’ve established what you don’t like. Now, we need to find what you do. How about we start with a couch?”
“A couch,” he said, stroking his chin. “Why don’t you show me some of your favorites?”
“Do you want leather or cloth?”
“Let’s give both a gander,” he said, following her as she headed off to another room.
The old mill was built with red brick and had scuffed-up walnut wooden floors. He liked the look of the place, which Susannah had praised for preserving the past while curating the largest furniture collection in the area.
When they entered another showroom, his mouth dropped clear open. “It’s a couch potato's dream.”
The smile she gave him was sweet as honey with a touch of spice. “Let’s find your couch.”
She set off with a determined stride, scanning the rows upon rows of couches. He tried not to watch the way her backside swayed as she walked, but he couldn’t help himself. She was gorgeous all around, front, back, and sideways. Oh, and if that wasn’t a great lyric. He drew out his phone to write it dow
n. He was always jotting down phrases that came to him. Many ended up in his songs.
“What about this one?” she said from a few rows up.
The leather was the color of a caramel apple, which made him long for Halloween. Growing up, he’d loved him a caramel apple—more than any other candy. “Is it comfy?”
She sat down and bounced on it, making him hot all over. Good Lord, it wasn’t very gentlemanly of him, but he could watch her bounce up and down all day.
“It is,” she said in a cheery voice. “And it’s long enough to fit all of you. Do you like to veg on the couch and watch TV like other couch potatoes?”
“Is there anyone who doesn’t?” he fired back, sitting next to her and giving it a matching bounce for good measure. “Hey, this is pretty comfy.”
“It’s one of my favorite brands,” she said, running her hand over the leather in a way that was far too arousing for a public venue.
He needed to get a hold of himself. A man shouldn’t get hot and bothered from watching a woman sit on a piece of furniture.
“What about the color?”
“I like it,” he said, touching the leather, but not caressing it like she had. He needed to draw the line somewhere. “Let’s keep it in mind.”
“I thought a dark brown might not work for you. The one downstairs is a lighter shade. You’re earthy, but not dark.”
If she knew everything about him, she wouldn’t say that. “What an interesting observation. Do you get them often?”
She kicked her feet out, more relaxed than he’d ever seen her. “Yep. It’s how I see clients. Although I don’t always tell them my way of thinking.”
“What other observations do you have for me?”
She turned and faced him on the couch. He could easily imagine watching a movie with her on this couch. And then after it finished, he’d lie down beside her and kiss every inch of her gorgeous body until she sighed out his name.
“You’re not showy even though you’re in show business,” she said, studying his face. “You like earth tones, but you also like metal.”