Rule #1 Don't Fall for Mr. Wrong: Sweet Romantic Comedy (Rules of Dating: Christian RomComs)

by Taylor Hart

  She laughed and tried another shot, missing. “Dang.”

  “It’s all in the follow-through. See.” He showed her a shot. “Make sure your wrist follows through.”

  Sara tried it half-heartedly and it worked. “Yes.” She fist pumped the air.

  He smiled at her.

  Sara snuck the ball quickly out of his hands and shot again. She made it. “Wow.” She pointed at him like a pro athlete. “It was all you, baby.”

  Jonathon laughed and pulled her into him. “Can I kiss you, Sara?”

  Sara looked into his eyes and felt the dreaminess of one year ago sweep through her. But she was puzzled. “Why are you asking all of a sudden?”

  He moved the hair away from her face. “Because, when I realized I might lose you, I did a lot of searching. I think I might have come in all guns a blazing and not given you any choice in the matter. I want you to always know that I care about how you feel. I care about you and your feelings more than anything. I am sorry for being so self-centered."

  Warmth filled her. He was trying.

  "So what do you say?"

  Guilt filled her. She'd let Beau kiss her.

  Ack.

  Jonathon closed the distance between them. “What is wrong?”

  She sighed. “I—I just feel so confused all the time.” It seemed like she could love Jonathon too. She already did, but it wasn’t the same as Beau. It was old . . . and new. “You can kiss me.”

  He dipped his lips down to her and touched hers lightly.

  She pushed him back overwhelmed with confusion. How could she be attracted to both of them? Her heart beat wildly.

  “Do you feel it, Sara? It was all real, every bit of it from that summer.” He smiled and let her go, taking her hand. “Let’s go get cleaned up and enjoy the rest of our weekend.”

  The rest of the day was like a dream. It was how she had wanted it to be when Jonathon had first come home from his mission.

  She had to work from ten to two, but then they went for a long walk in the snow through the snow-packed streets. They shuffled through the shops making jokes and talking. She found out that he had a weakness for a good mystery novel. Sara could see her life with Jonathon. And it didn’t seem like a bad thing.

  The next day they went to church together. It felt so different to her with Jonathon at her side.

  Rob surprised her by coming up to them. "Hey, is this the famous Jonathon?"

  Jonathon nodded. “Hi.”

  Sara punched Rob lightly in the shoulder. “This—is Duke.”

  Rob laughed and shook his head. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  Jonathon looked at both of them, confused. Both she and Rob laughed harder at his puzzled expression.

  “I’ll fill ya in later.” She turned back to Rob. “So, when is the baptism again?”

  “That’s partly why I came over to chat with you. I’m doing it tonight.” His smile was so wide, Sara felt like her heart would explode.

  “Seriously?”

  “I was going to wait until Christmas but then I thought—my family doesn’t even really care—you guys are the ones I want there.”

  Jonathon cleared his throat. “You’re getting baptized?"

  Rob pointed between them. “Hey, you should come. That would be awesome, the more the merrier.”

  Sara laughed at Rob’s excitement. His happiness was infectious, and her heart rejoiced. He was really doing it.

  “I . . .” Jonathon pulled out his phone and looked at the time. “I don’t know if I can. I’m supposed to be at work in the morning, but maybe I could come in later and drive up in the morning. Let me make some calls.” He turned away from them.

  Sara felt herself hesitate at the thought that Jonathon would be at the baptism. She’d seen Beau sitting in the back at the meeting.

  She had ignored his texts and calls but … she felt guilty about it.

  Which she shouldn't. Should she?

  No, he'd been out with another woman.

  But, hadn't she been out with Jonathon?

  Ack!

  She tried to focus on Rob. "What time will this great party be?”

  He smiled. “Seven tonight.” He leaned into her and whispered, “Do you think Beau can be there?”

  “Um . . .” Sara glanced toward the gym and saw Beau standing by the steps talking with Michelle, the lycra queen. To her surprise, the girl from the restaurant was with him too.

  Unwanted rage filled her heart. How dare he show up with her?

  “Sara?” Rob looked at where she was staring and chuckled, but quickly covered his mouth. “And the plot thickens.” He patted her shoulder.

  Sara looked at Rob’s face. “I guess you’ll have to ask him if he can make it. You might ask if he can tear himself away from all of his women.”

  Rob clapped his hands together and grinned. “Sara, calm down. Sheesh. I think you should have a stage name. Man, all the dramatics.” He patted her shoulder. “I’ll be right back.” He took off toward Beau.

  Sara turned to watch him. But Beau was already coming toward her.

  Dark storms brewed in his blue eyes. His jawline was taut and the woman with him had her chin in the air and a smirk on her face as if she were saying, ‘look—he’s mine.’

  Rob stopped him. “Hey man—I’m getting baptized tonight.”

  Beau blinked and focused on Rob. “Really?” A bright, innocent smile crossed his face. “That is so terrific, man.” He shook hands with him and patted him on the back, glancing at Sara out of the corner of his eye.

  “I want you to come."

  "Of course, I’ll be there.”

  Jonathon joined her. "Hey, I think I can stay."

  "Oh." Panic urged her forward and she tugged on Jonathon’s arm away from Beau's path. “Are you ready to go? You probably need to get on the road.”

  Jonathon stopped. "No, I said I could stay."

  "Hey, Jonathon."

  She paused, her heart racing.

  "Hey, Beau," Jonathon said.

  She looked between them.

  Something was going on between them. Some silent conversation.

  Beau’s eyes looked instantly tired, and he finally turned his gaze to Sara and gave a sad shrug. Then he turned back to the girl with him and gestured to the door. “Let’s go.”

  The pain in his eyes had been too much.

  "Just a sec, Jonathon," she called back and dashed after Beau.

  "Wait!"

  Chapter 36

  Beau didn’t turn back.

  She maneuvered through the icy parking lot. Cold pressed against her bare skin. The kind of cold that comes with below zero temperatures.

  Beau helped the beauty queen into his truck.

  “Beau!”

  He shut the door and started toward her. “Go back inside—it’s too cold out here.”

  Her teeth were already starting to chatter. “I can’t. I want to talk to you.” She had to know what the story was—she had to know the details that she didn’t want to know.

  Beau pulled off his coat. He wrapped it easily around her shoulders but let her go. “You’re going to freeze to death.”

  “Who is she?” Sara had to know. She had to.

  Beau narrowed his eyes then finally said, “Valerie’s sister.”

  Instantly, the puzzle fit together. Her heart felt lighter, but confused. Very confused. “Well, why didn’t you say so?”

  He looked quickly to the ground and then back to her. "I tried."

  "Sorry."

  But pain was still on his face. He met her gaze. "But, there's something else with her."

  She was confused. "What?"

  Beau’s eyes fluttered, and he looked down. “Valerie's sister and I. After Valerie died . . . we made a huge mistake.”

  Sara stumbled back. No. It couldn't be what she was thinking.

  Beau steadied her.

  She pushed him back. “What are you telling me?”

  “We slept together.” His e
yes were tired and raw and sad.

  Sara suddenly couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t be here. She flung off his coat.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Rage filled her. “Are you back together? Did you sleep with her last night?”

  Beau didn’t move for a minute. Then he looked up at the church and back to her. “Yep,” he said, his voice flat, “we’re back together.”

  Disbelief filled her heart. No. This couldn’t be the truth. “Beau?” The hurt was betrayed in her voice.

  He looked past her, biting his bottom lip. His brow creased and anger swept over his features. “What can I say?” He bent and picked up his jacket. “Guess you better get back; someone’s waiting for you.”

  His face was a mask, his jaw flexed.

  Revulsion swept through her. She turned back to the church and held to the handrail as she climbed the stairs.

  Jonathon took her hand before she got to the top. “C’mon, Sara. Let’s go.”

  “Sara—are you okay?” Jonathon sat on her living room couch, leaning over—his arms propped on his knees. The lines around his eyes were pulled into a frown. His brown hair splashed forward into his eyes.

  “I’m fine.”

  He leaned back, his hair falling into place. “Okay.” His tone was tentative, but he didn’t press her. "It ends up I have to get back. Dad won't let me come in later."

  "Oh." If she were to be honest with herself, she was trying to feel numb right now. She didn’t want to lose it in front of Jonathon. That wouldn’t be fair to him. But it was hard. Everything that she’d thought was fun and games had backfired on her in a big way. How could he have done that? How could Beau be someone so different than she thought he was? Turning to Jonathon, she tried to put a smile on her face. “I wish you could stay."

  “I do too.” He leaned forward, picking up her family photo album. “May I?” His eyebrows raised, and he looked at her.

  Sara nodded, walking to him and sitting down on the couch. They’d talked a little bit about her dad’s death, but it had never felt like he’d been that interested. He’d never been rude, just apathetic. Her heart clutched as he opened the book and turned to the page with her and her dad standing in front of her house. The day she left for college the first time.

  “I’ve forgotten how beautiful your home is.” Jonathon studied the picture. “You guys look so happy there.”

  Her heart ached. She turned the pages to her mother’s photo. Her favorite. It was her parent’s engagement photo. She loved it.

  “Your mom was pretty, Sara.” Jonathon held her hand.

  “That’s their engagement photo.” She smiled, happiness entering her heart. “I’ve always thought they were the greatest looking couple. So happy.”

  She felt like crying just thinking about her parents.

  Jonathon squeezed her hand gently, and the tension in the air grew thick. "Are you okay?"

  "I miss my dad so much."

  "I know." He hugged her to him.

  She hated that she was taking comfort in him. Turning away from Jonathon, she fled to the bathroom. “Excuse me.”

  She splashed her face with water. All this time she’d thought Jonathon was the dream. That everything had been concocted in her imagination. But, it felt like she didn't know who Beau was, either.

  It put her off-center. He’d seemed like the most real thing in her life lately. And the pain of his duplicity stunned her.

  Sara looked in the mirror and told herself that she couldn’t lay this burden on Jonathon. She would deal with it after he left. And like so many other emotions, she had to stuff this away for the moment. She walked out of the bathroom.

  Jonathon gave her a sad look. “I better go before it gets too late—the roads get slick pretty quick.” He took a deep breath and picked up his coat.

  “I’ll walk you out.”

  “Okay.” He put on his coat and helped her with hers, and then opened the door.

  She went out, and he gently took her hand.

  They got to the car and he kept her hand. “Hold on, I’m going to turn on the car and let it run for a minute.”

  Her breath came out in puffs, and she pulled her coat snug against her. "Okay." It was almost over—the weekend was almost over. She didn’t know if she could change the empty feeling that was taking residence inside her chest, but she wanted to see Jonathon off before trying to figure it out. Thoughts of Beau and Valerie’s sister had gone through her head during dinner no matter how much she pushed them away. Which made eating nearly impossible, and she felt her stomach growl.

  Jonathon came back, holding his arms open. “It’s freezing.”

  She easily went into them, his warmth cheering her slightly. Guilt simultaneously washed over her, guilt at the fact that she was taking comfort in his arms. Messed up, she thought. That’s what she was. How had this all happened?

  “This feels so right, Sara.” Jonathon propped his chin on her head and ran his hand down her hair. “Can you feel it?” Pulling away from her, he studied her face.

  Forcing back the tears that pricked at her eyes. She smiled. “I’m sorry, Jonathon.” The tears got free and washed down her face. “I’m sorry everything is such a mess.” She scrubbed a hand over her face and stepped back. “I can’t do this anymore. I just don’t know anything anymore.”

  Sympathy washed over his face. “Sara.” He hugged her tightly against him. “I should have handled so many things differently. But, I still love you."

  Sara couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. “Yeah, I’m sure you still want that after all I’ve put you through.” She dried her face with a tissue that she found in her pocket. She stepped away from him.

  Jonathon watched her closely then pulled a small box out of his coat pocket. “Actually, Sara, I do still love you.” He put one knee on the ground.

  Chapter 37

  Valerie's sister's penciled eyebrow had been permanently raised the whole way back to Beau’s house after church. “Beau, what was that all about?”

  “Don’t start, Marsal.” Keeping his composure the whole way back to his house had proved almost impossible. He’d told himself the whole way back that it was better this way. Sara was better off without him. He’d failed in so many ways.

  As they got to his home, he pushed open the door and waited for Marsal to go inside. “It’s time for you to get out of town.”

  The charade had gone on long enough. He thought she’d been sincere when she’d showed up a few days ago and told him she wanted to talk about the charity in Africa. When Valerie had died, he'd made the decision to have her run the operation; she loved Africa as Valerie did.

  It had felt so natural to cry on Marsal’s shoulder after the funeral. They’d commiserated about how cruel life was. About how nothing made sense in this world. About how God couldn’t just allow such horrible things to happen. About how there couldn't really be a God.

  Their grief had lead them to a bad place together. It was only the next morning that his mistake really hit him. He had loathed himself for a long, long time. He’d stayed away from church, his mother, from prayer.

  He'd spent a long time in darkness. Truthfully, it was only his mother's diagnosis that had brought him back to God.

  Which might seem funny to people. People, who didn't know about how strong his mother's faith was.

  He’d convinced his mom to stay with him while Marsal was visiting, so there would be no misunderstanding on anyone’s part. He’d even confided in Marsal about Sara. And she’d seemed genuinely happy for him.

  But today, after his little episode with Sara, she'd put her hand on his leg and told him they could comfort each other, again.

  No! He would not go back to that dark place. No matter what. Because … he did know that God cared for him. He didn't understand God's ways, but … the past year had taught him that all he wanted was to walk with God.

  Marsal went to her room and packed. She came back and dragged the rollers of
her bag across the wooden floor to his front door.

  Beau didn’t look at her. He could hardly focus. What had he done to Sara? The look on her face. His chest felt hollow. The pain that had crossed Sara’s face was unbearable. He grabbed his keys from the counter. “I’ll take you to the airport.”

  She was quiet then took a letter out of her purse and pushed it at him.

  Beau took it. “What is this?”

  “The Nigerian Project.” Her words were perfectly enunciated, and she ran her tongue over her front teeth. “There’s lots of money, Beau. The upside is huge. It just needs some funding. Basically it’s the same thing we’ve been doing, but a different part of Africa. It’s a much larger scale. And, of course, this project brings you returns.”

  Anger surged in his chest. Beau narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like where this was going. “I don't have charities for returns." He shoved the letter back at her. "This is why you came?”

  Marsal sighed. “Partly.” She pursed her lips together.

  Anger flooded him.

  Marsal folded her arms and raised her eyebrows. “Fine, I thought you might be interested in me."

  "Get out." He glared at her. "I'll get you an uber."

  “Wait, I need your help. Fine, it could make money, but it could just be a cool project that does good."

  He was confused.

  “This project could be the real deal. It could make changes that could really make a difference. Clean water, schools, medicine; these are things that we’ve been helping to maintain.” She stomped her foot and frowned. Her eyes teared up. “Beau, whatever I’ve done please know this, this project will change lives, histories, villages . . . a nation.”

  Beau shook his head and scoffed a little at her dramatics. “How can I trust you? I don't even know why you came. The real truth."

  Marsal glared at him. He’d never seen her look so passionate. “Fine, I'll tell you the truth. I need somebody that cares.” She looked into his eyes. “I thought that might be you.”

  Watching her for a moment, Beau thought this was the first time he’d really seen Marsal seem to care much about anything. She watched his face, stepping toward him, then looked at his lips. “We could be amazing together. But, I realize that's not so now. After, seeing the way you looked at … Sara."