Love Led By the Spirit (Restore My Soul Book 3)

by Pat Simmons

  And movie plans with Jet on Saturday evening despite her protests that he should rest. The woman was unselfish, which made him selfish with her. On Sunday after service, he planned to take her to brunch with some other saints from the church. His cousin didn’t need to know his itinerary.

  “Oh?” Levi squinted.

  “You remember Landon and Octavia Thomas?”

  “You mean the guy who used to be homeless, then married the real estate agent?” That couple seemed to amuse his cousin.

  “Yep.” He and Landon bonded when he found himself stranded in St. Louis. Their friendship developed into a Christian brotherhood, and Rossi was a groomsman in his wedding. Since, he had known Octavia for years, he was credited with matchmaking. “We’ve been trying to get together for months. Sorry. Rain check.”

  Levi stood. “Okay, but I think family should trump friends.” He twisted his mouth in displeasure. He opened his mouth and seemed to struggle with his next statement as he slipped his hands into his pockets. “How’s Jet coming along?”

  “See, you can ask about her without scowling.” Rossi smirked.

  “Karyn hasn’t mentioned any problems when she picks up Dori at the salon for an outing, but then my wife wouldn’t tell me if there was a problem anyway. So what’s your take? You’ve been taking her under your wing since the day you baptized her.”

  “Salvation is good for the soul. Walking with God is a process, and Jet is moving at a steady pace. I’m a witness people do change.”

  He had seen it countless times in the ministry. Landon Thomas had been a ruthless man when it came to women and money, then he abused his blessings from the Lord Jesus. God had rebuked him and taken away his riches and left him in rags. “God gave Landon a repenting heart to be redeemed. If God could save him, Jet is a piece of cake.”

  “Umm-hmm.” Levi twisted his lips. “I’m watching and praying.”

  Rossi stared as his cousin walked out of his office. Lord, although Jesetta has nothing to prove to my cousin, let him see the new Jet.

  ***

  On Friday, Rossi waved good night to his staff as he left early for his dinner date. He called Jet while en route to his loft. When she answered, he could hear noise in the background.

  “It sounds like you’re out and about.”

  “Shopping. I have a couple of promising interviews lined up. Plus, I wanted to buy something nice to wear for tonight. I haven’t met any of your friends, so I want to look my best.”

  He grunted. She was probably a sleeping beauty. “You don’t have to impress anyone—me or my friends. You’re a class act.” And soon everybody would see what he and the Lord saw in her.

  “Aww, thank you.” He could hear the smile in her voice.

  “Pick you up in a couple of hours.”

  ***

  “Finally, you and Minister Rossi are going on a date instead of healing the sick, and raising the dead expeditions,” Layla teased on loud speaker while Jet dressed.

  “Stop it,” Jet fussed. “Going with him has been good for me to see what it’s really like to be a Christian, and for the record, healing the sick and raising the dead belongs to God. Rossi has taught me to pray God’s will in every situation.”

  “Right.”

  “Plus, this isn’t a date. His friends invited him to dinner and to bring someone, so tag, I’m that someone.” Jet smiled eying her reflection in the full-length mirror. The dress was lightweight and airy with splits to the waist and matching wide-leg pants underneath. With a fresh pedicure—not from Karyn—her toes stood out in strappy wedged scandals. “When I think of a date, I think of flowers—”

  “Which he has given you.”

  “True, but I imagine a candlelight dinner for two in a nice restaurant—the works. I’m not saying Rossi doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body, but I doubt I’ll ever see a glimpse of it.” Diane and Levi had showed Jet what romance looked like. What would her sister say about Layla’s claims?

  “Girl, you’re blind. A man doesn’t spend that much time with a woman unless he has feelings for her. Since you’re clueless, I’ll get answers when I come down to your housewarming next month. No questions will be off the table.”

  Jet laughed and gave herself another twirl. “Rossi has the protective big brother thing going on.” Her phone clicked. “Hey, speaking of my big brother.”

  “Who you have a crush on—” Layla interrupted.

  “Bye. He’s calling.”

  “Talk to you after the dinner date,” her friend demanded before ending their call, and Jet answered the other line.

  “Well, hello, my dining companion.” Rossi chuckled. “I’m leaving my place now.”

  “Then I’m heading downstairs.” She disconnected and took a deep breath. Jet wasn’t about to let Layla get in her head. Rossi had rejected so many women in the past as “the one.” She had seen first-hand the longing in their faces for him to choose them. Jet knew her place in his life, and regardless of the growing attraction she had for him, she was going to stay rooted on the other side of the friendship line.

  She was one step out the door when she double-checked her purse for room key, but didn’t see it. Going back inside, she glanced at the bedside table—not there. Then she frantically searched for it until she spied the card under her makeup in the bathroom of all places.

  After making sure she had everything this time, Jet rushed to the elevator, so not to keep Rossi waiting. Too late. When she stepped out of the elevator, he was standing in the lobby. Turning his head in her direction, his jaw dropped, and she giggled.

  “You’re stunning, Jesetta Hutchens.” He reached for her hand. She took it, and as if they were dancers, he twirled her under his arm.

  When he held her steady, she glanced into his eyes. Absent was the mischievous glint. He had an almost trance-like expression. She did her best not to stare. He had shaved and his cologne was intoxicating. The black polo shirt he wore showcased his muscles. Even in her three-inch heels, he still towered over her. “I guess I pass.”

  Slipping her hand into his, he nodded. “I guess there was a reason I wore black, because you’re killing it in your black and white. Love the look—” he glanced at her feet and traveled up to her eyes—“shoes, and the pretty lady wearing it.” He paused. “Even though I like your hair down, I’m feeling the ball on top of your head. You’re truly a princess.”

  She couldn’t stop from blushing. Rossi was ruining it for another man to steal her heart. At that moment, Jet believed in fairytales, and what if Rossi was her prince? Whoa, she blinked and exhaled. Every woman on God’s Earth wanted Minister Rossi Tolliver, and she dare say, she was included. Jet needed to get a grip on her mind. It was running crazy.

  “We’d better go. There’s still traffic going westbound on I-70.”

  That wasn’t surprising. Motorists had to cross over the Missouri River to St. Charles County via the Blanchette Bridge. St. Louis was a river town, stuck between the Missouri going west and the Mississippi going east. During the drive, Jet felt chatty, and Rossi listened.

  “Today, I was thinking how much I miss Diane. We talked about things, did everything together—”

  “You have me now,” he stated, reaching for her hand without taking his eyes off the road.

  For safety, she slipped her hand in his, so he would stop searching for it. “I know.” He seemed to work overtime to fill in the gap, but some things were reserved for sisters, like shopping, spas, and relationship advice. “If she could look down from where she is, I’m sure my salvation would make her proud. Do you think she knows?”

  Rossi shrugged. “Paradise, like hell, is a place where souls are aware of their surroundings. Read Luke 16. In verses nineteen through thirty-one, Jesus describes consciousness of a beggar who died and angels carried him away and a rich man who died and was buried.”

  Her mind clicked and suddenly, she understood. “Angels came for my sister’s soul.”

  “I believe that. While we burie
d her remains, the Bible says the rich man lifted his eyes in torment from hell. He saw Lazarus—the beggar—resting in Abraham’s bosom or paradise and called out for Lazarus to tip his finger in water to cool his tongue.”

  Shaking her head, Jet couldn’t believe that despite being in hell, the rich man held on to his arrogance. She pulled her phone out of her purse and tapped in the passage. “Thanks for answering me with scripture so I can read and study them for myself.”

  “It’s my honor to do so.” In her peripheral vision, she saw the tender glance he gave her, which made her feel more special. “It’s a powerful passage. The Bible says hell was enlarged because of sin, and verse twenty-six says, ‘There is a great gulf fixed: so that they which would pass from hence to you cannot; neither can they pass to us that would come from thence.”

  The verse struck her with such fear, Jet couldn’t wait until later to read it for herself. Her spirit rejoiced that she had made the decision to repent of her sins. What if she hadn’t rejected her evil ways? She could have ended up in hell, separated from her sister—or more importantly, separated from the Lord.

  Closing her eyes, she escaped to a secret place with God. As she silently prayed, she heard Rossi petition God on her behalf as if he knew she was praying. Suddenly, the heavenly language burst forth from her mouth as she worshiped Jesus in tongues. Rossi didn’t interrupt, even when he stopped and parked.

  Taking her hand, he ended her prayer with “Thank You, Jesus,” “Amen,” and “We love You, Lord.”

  They were quiet as Jet breathed until her heart rate regulated. When she fluttered her lids open, Rossi was watching her. His lips were poised to say something, but he didn’t. It didn’t matter. She was too full of God at the moment—her spiritual cup was running over.

  They sat in front of a tan-colored brick ranch house. The yard was meticulously landscaped, and an arch entryway with stone-covered double pillars gave the house a grandeur welcome. “Are we here?”

  He nodded.

  “Why didn’t you say something?” she scolded, feeling embarrassed.

  “Because God always comes first—always. I could wait.” He shifted his body. “Ready?”

  “Yes.” As she unstrapped her seatbelt, Rossi got out and came around to her door. When they stepped on the curb, the front door to the lovely house opened. The couple standing in the doorway complemented each other. He was tall, built, and almost “pretty boy handsome,” and she was short, curvy, and could catch a man’s eye. Once they reached the porch, the husband stepped out to shake Rossi’s hand and slap him on the back. His wife who had an adorable little boy anchored on her hip and clinging to her top, opened one arm and embraced Jet.

  “’Bout time you got here. I thought you were going to stand us up. Now Tavia and I see the reason for the delay.” He extended his hand to Jet. “Landon Thomas; my wife, Octavia; and our son, Landon Junior.”

  “We were in traffic,” Rossi said.

  His friend grunted. “Right.”

  Inside the open-floor plan, Jet complimented Octavia on her home decor. “This is spacious. It reminds me of a house I had built in Fairview Heights years ago—twenty-five hundred square feet. Now, I’m buying a historic home in the Lafayette Square neighborhood.” Living in the city versus in the Metro East meant Jet wouldn’t be less than a couple of miles from Dori as before, but I-64 from downtown could put her at Dori’s doorsteps in fifteen minutes tops. “As a matter of fact, I should close in about two weeks.”

  Octavia’s eyes widened. “I’m an agent. Didn’t Rossi tell you?” She gave her guest a frown.

  He shrugged. “I forgot.”

  Shaking their heads, she and Octavia said in unison, “Men.” She gave Landon their son. “Come on, Jesetta.”

  “Please call me Jet.” Only one person could say her name the way she liked to hear it.

  Although the dining room table was set, Jet and Octavia chatted as they brought the food from the kitchen. “After I feed Little Landon, I’ll lay him down for a short nap while you visit.”

  Little Landon, Little Levi. Would Rossi want to have a Little Rossi, making him a fifth-generation namesake?

  Soon, they were gathered at the table. Landon said grace, then they dug in. True to Octavia’s word, their child was dozing before he finished eating. Landon stood, gathered his son, and took him into the bedroom. When he returned to the table, they finished eating with a lively discussion.

  “Did Rossi tell you how Landon and I met?”

  Jet shook her head. As a matter of fact, he had told her very little about the couple except that he and Landon became fast friends when the man was at a low point in his life with God.

  “I was about to show a property,” she began.

  “And I was sleeping in it,” her husband added, laughing. “I’m not ashamed to say I was homeless.”

  Jet blinked. How? She wanted to ask, but didn’t.

  Landon stuffed mashed potatoes in his mouth and swallowed. “That’s how I met the minister here. He came to a shelter Octavia had found for me.” He paused and looked away. Octavia rubbed his shoulder as if to give him strength. “You see, I come from generations of strong Apostolic families, but I rejected God and anything that resembled holiness. I committed sins that are unspeakable. I was the prodigal son, cousin, and father. I lost my six-figure job, pricey condo in Boston, luxury car, and basically all my worldly possessions. When I got on the Amtrak train headed to Texas, I had no idea I would lose most of the belongings when I wound up stranded in St. Louis at a Greyhound bus terminal.”

  Jet didn’t interrupt his abbreviated version, but she was sure there was an incredible story she wanted to hear one day.

  “My husband was a wounded soul,” Octavia said with a smile as Jet’s eyes watered.

  Evidently, Rossi knew all this as he ate as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

  “I am living proof,” Landon said, patting his chest, “that God can save anybody. I fathered four children by three women outside of marriage. Besides my son here, I have two daughters and twin boys.”

  Whoa. Jet glanced at Octavia, and his wife nodded.

  “I didn’t have a good track record, but somehow God gave me another chance with this beautiful, incredible woman.” He lifted her hand and rubbed his lips on it as if they didn’t have an audience. Again, Rossi, seemingly unfazed, kept eating.

  After the touching moment, they turned to Jet and Rossi. “So how long have you two been dating?’ Octavia asked.

  “Oh, we’re just friends,” Jet said, choking on air.

  Only then did Rossi rest his glass on the table and command their attention. “We’re more than friends,” he corrected in a no-nonsense tone.

  In what way? she wanted to ask, but she played it off. If he didn’t stop saying the sweetest things, she would fall in love with him. Not only would that surprise him, but her too. So keeping her wayward thoughts to herself, she focused the remainder of her visit watching Landon and Octavia’s love story play out before her eyes.

  Chapter 1 3

  Since leaving Landon and Octavia’s house more than a week ago, Rossi had been dropping so many love seeds that he could feed a field of birds. Jet had to see the love beaming from his eyes like a lighthouse. God wasn’t helping either, because Jet seemed oblivious to his intentions. Her focus was on getting things ready to move.

  How long had he been staring at the same email from the development and planning committee? He had to stop zoning out like that. It was mid-morning, and he was trying to crunch the figures on a proposed site not far from downtown East St. Louis. While the Tollivers wanted tax breaks to expand, the committee was pushing for repairs to infrastructures outside of the proposed building area.

  He closed his email. Work was not on his mind at the moment. Getting up from behind his desk, he crossed the room to his mini fridge and retrieved a bottled water. He and Jet had yet to take to the bike trail. Maybe that was something they could do this weekend. His phone rang and in
terrupted his musings.

  “Hey, son. I was sitting here thinking about you. If I didn’t see you at church, I wouldn’t see you at all.” She tsked. Why don’t you come over for dinner on Sunday and bring Jet? You two are practically joined at the hip anyway. Don’t think I haven’t noticed if you’re not with her, you’re talking to her, or you’re about to see or talk to her.” She chuckled. “Like Mark 10:9 says, What God has joined together. I like Jet—always have. When are you going to propose?”

  Yep, next to God, it seemed like nothing slipped by his mother. Rossi grunted. “I can’t propose if the woman doesn’t love me and know I love her.”

  Laura Tolliver’s laugh irked him. “Son, it doesn’t take the Holy Ghost to see you love her. I can see it without my glasses. Jet is a true example of sweetly saved. She really loves God, and I’m so glad that Jesus has healed her pain.”

  “Mom, she’s embraced her salvation walk a hundred percent. Outside of the ministry, I don’t think she realizes I exist as a regular man. She definitely doesn’t seem to know how I feel.”

  This time his mother grunted. “Then she’s as blind as you thought I was.”

  “So when is the right time to tell a woman you love her?” He got up and closed the door, then returned to his desk.

  “Trust me, son, sooner rather than later. You’ve been attracted to Jet for a long time. Now that Jesus has saved her, there should be no stopping you. God created a woman to belong to a man and a man to belong to one wife. Women may act independent, but a woman isn’t complete without a husband, and a man isn’t complete without a wife.”

  Tugging on the hairs on his chin, he listened to his mother. For almost a month, Rossi had held back, not wanting to compete with God for Jet’s affections, but maybe it was time and God had sent his mother to deliver the message. Jet was finally at peace since Diane’s death. Loving each other would only cause their love for God to grow. “You’re right. When I spoke with her this morning, she was hyped about closing on her house. I’m sure she’ll want to celebrate, and I can tell her how I feel.”