"Sure. You've always worn your emotions on your sleeve." His mom wiped her wet palms on the kitchen towel and rested her hands on his shoulders. "You acted just like a man with a broken heart."
He blew out a discouraged breath. "It was broken, all right. At the time, I thought it was more because of how much it hurt my relationship with God. But now I just feel like I've lost the one person I'd loved most all over again. I always wondered why we couldn't have both a relationship and faith in Christ, but the more time we were together, the more obvious it became to me that we had to go our separate ways."
"That was smart of you, son. You were too young for marriage."
"I know, but it still bothers me. A lot."
"Did you tell her how you felt?"
He shrugged. "She seemed to hear the tiny bit of confession I managed to squeak out. But it wasn't enough. I didn't say enough."
"The Scriptures say that we shouldn't worry about what we're going to say, but we're to let the Holy Spirit speak through us. Do you believe that?"
"Of course." Unsure if that was what the verse actually meant, he stood and enveloped his mom in a hug. "So why is it so hard?"
"Life is hard. Don't avoid her. Stand strong in the Lord, and He'll guide your steps."
"I'm not worried about the Lord guiding me, Mom. I'm worried about my ability to stay on the right path. When I'm near Tara it's like I can't think straight."
"Sounds like love to me." She grinned.
"Or lust." He peered up to gauge his mother's reaction.
Her smile fell and she looked him in the eye. "No matter. What you decide to call this strong connection you feel with Tara isn't the point. The fact that you can't think around her is what's going to get you in trouble."
"I know." Suddenly the pancakes felt like rocks resting in his stomach. He grabbed his plate and started clearing the table, hoping his mother wouldn't ask any more questions.
She remained silent as they worked side by side. When they finished cleaning up the kitchen, he kissed his mother's cheek. "Thanks for listening, Mom."
"No problem, honey. That's what mothers are for."
*****
He paused and readied his fist to connect with Tara's front door. He hadn't felt this nervous since the day he'd planned to break up with her, but ended up losing his nerve. Would she welcome his visit, or tell him to get lost?
"Just a minute."
Hearing her voice made his heart pound a little harder.
"You're early--" Tara's eyes widened and she slammed the door.
He blinked. Had he just seen her in a petticoat? Delicious shivers zinged up his spine. He had. He'd caught a quick glimpse of her old fashioned undies and he couldn't help smiling. Sheesh, those clothes she had on covered more than most young ladies wore to church.
He knocked again. "Tara, I need to talk to you."
After waiting several minutes and rocking on his heels as he decided what to do, he raised his hand to knock one more time.
The door flung open and he almost popped her in the face. "Whoa. I wasn't expecting that. Sorry."
Her cheeks were flushed, but this time her outfit was buttoned all the way up her neck. "I thought you were my mother's caregiver. She's a lady so I didn't think..." She cleared her throat. "Um, yeah. So why are you here?"
The urge to touch her chin and kiss her was so strong he stuffed his hands in his back pockets to restrain himself. The Bible case he'd tucked under his arm hit the floor, making them both jump.
She bent down and retrieved the wooden box that said on the outside, "Holy Bible". Thankfully it hadn't broken when it hit the carpet.
Without asking, she opened the lid. A snort burst from her lips. "Why do you have a gun in your Bible? That's just nuts."
He cleared his throat. "Let me show you the little skit I came up with."
Holding her hands behind her back, she nodded shyly. "Okay."
With sweating palms, he began his skit. "How would you like some peace in your life?"
She batted her lashes like Little Bo Peep might do when she flirted with a shepherd and said, "Why that sounds mighty fine, Preacher Man."
With a smirk, he realized he'd messed up. See? He couldn't think straight around her. It was tragic. "Wait. Let me start over."
Tara smirked and the familiar twinkle in her eyes made heat shoot through him. Did she have any idea how sexy she looked, even with a dress buttoned all the way up her neck? She was the most attractive spinster he'd ever seen.
He winked and began again. "Would you like some peace? Or a peacemaker?"
Flipping open the Bible case, he revealed a shiny pistol that looked almost real.
"Cute, Preacher Man. But I don't see how that would save anyone."
Oh. Right. He hadn’t thought of that. "Guess I need to keep working on my lines then."
She pursed her lips like she wanted to make a snide remark, but changed her mind. Her attention strayed to his mouth for a fraction of a second, but he hadn't missed it. He wasn't hallucinating. She really did still have feelings for him. Otherwise, why look at his lips?
The natural reaction was for him to do the same.
He took a step closer and she backed up.
Tara turned and hustled out of the room. He removed his black preacher's hat. He couldn't believe he stood there dressed as a man of the cloth, and he still couldn't keep his mind in the right place. All he could think about was following her back into her bedroom and reliving their past. Just one more time. And while his feet did the honorable thing and riveted to the floor, his thoughts followed her. What was she doing in the bedroom?
Tara returned with her mother. She was holding her hand. "Mom? Remember Josiah?"
Her mother looked him up and down, and for a second a flash of recognition passed over her eyes. She walked up to him and pulled him into a crushing hug. In all the years he'd known Tara, her mother had barely tolerated him. So why the bear hug?
He glanced at Tara over her mother's shoulder and mouthed, "What's up with your mom?"
She shrugged and encouraged her mom to release him.
A knock behind him made him turn around. A woman wearing a tee shirt with the logo on it from the local caregiver agency stood in Tara's doorway. "Hello, Mrs. Hinkson. How are you this morning?"
Tara's mother made a puckering face like she'd popped a sour candy in her mouth. But she still let the woman from the agency lead her away from them.
He leaned toward Tara, but before he spoke he caught a fresh whiff of her intoxicating scent. What was he going to ask her? Think. Think.
"Josiah," she whispered, "Why are you breathing on my neck?"
Chapter Four
Tara waited for Josiah to answer her question, but he just drew closer. She smelled the familiar scent of him and pushed him away before she sank into his arms.
He blinked, looking a bit stunned. "Why'd you push me?"
She crossed her arms and couldn't help noticing his gaze shifting to her chest. "Isn't it obvious? You're going to wrinkle my outfit?"
That was so not true, but she'd blurted the first thing that came to mind. No way was she going to say that his scent made her all gooey inside, and that she wanted nothing more than to kiss him senseless.
His grin regained some confidence. "Is that what the shove was for? To protect your costume from getting wrinkled?"
The cute smile he wore made her cheeks heat. Rather than lie again, she shrugged.
Reaching toward her, he uncrossed her arms and straightened her sleeves. His knuckles brushed against her breasts for a brief second. She wished he would stop touching her. Was he trying to make her crazy?
"Hey, now. Look at me." He touched her chin.
Panic zipped through her like tiny electric shocks and she turned her face away. His touching her chin used to lead to passionate kissing. Strong emotions from the past had returned in a flash, and she fought the desire now surging within her. "Don't."
His arms fell to his sides. "Don'
t what?"
She peered up at him and saw that she'd genuinely crushed his spirit. But at this point survival mattered more than protecting his feelings, and she could barely think when he was standing so close. "Don't touch me."
His wounded look deepened for a moment, then vanished. His jaw tightened and he said through thin lips. "I was just being friendly."
She snickered and made a snide comment before she could stop herself. "I know what friendly turns into when I'm with you. I can't go there."
He stiffened. "You think that was what I was trying to do?"
Suddenly nervous, she realized she may have read him wrong. "Sorry. I don't know what to think half the time. This is freaking me out having you around."
Her comment must've have eased some of his tension because he offered a lazy smile. That sexy look she remembered so well had returned to his eyes. "I'll never forget what we had together. It was... amazing."
Crossing her arms again, she fought the emotion surging in her heart and said roughly, "Let's keep the conversation platonic, okay? I can't deal with the past. Not when my present situation is so complicated."
Josiah blinked, then stepped away from her, his eyes unfocused. Had she offended him by what she'd said? Then she realized he must've thought she meant she was already involved in a relationship with someone else and it was complicated. She couldn't decide if she wanted him to believe that or not, but went for honesty.
"I meant taking care of my mom and trying to stay financially afloat. If you are wondering about other boyfriends, well... there aren't any. I haven't dated anyone seriously since... well, since us."
His eyes softened. "Me, either."
The sensation from her pulse thundering in her ears made her suddenly dizzy. What did that mean? Had he never gotten over her? "You never dated anyone in college?"
"Nope. Haven't kissed anyone either. You?" His ears turned red and he shyly glanced to the side, avoiding eye contact.
"I tried dating, but couldn't get into it. Then Mom got hurt in that wreck, and I haven't had much free time since. Remember Jim Braswell?"
Josiah's head popped up and he frowned. "Yeah."
"He took me to the prom. He kisses like a fish. Nasty." She realized that she'd said too much when the hurt look returned to his eyes. At least she hadn't told him the rest. The fact that Jim had tried to force himself on her would've killed Josiah for sure.
"I don't blame you for wanting to go to the prom. But I should have come back and taken you myself. I'm sorry you had to suffer Jim's lips." He watched her intently. "Was he the only one you... well... you dated?"
Did Josiah actually care about her past dating? "Yeah. He took me to the prom and kissed me goodnight, but it made my skin crawl. Why all the personal questions?"
Josiah stepped back and the emotional distance between them expanded immediately. "No reason. I was just curious. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."
She shrugged. What did he expect her to say to that? "So why'd you stop by?"
He grabbed her arm and pulled her closer. He hunched over and whispered in her ear, "Someone burglarized the salon last night after you went home. I saw them and I started to call 911, but then I heard sirens and figured someone beat me to it, so I hung up. Then I followed the EMT's to your place and was caught up in the drama with your mom. Then I woke up in the middle of the night and realized I'd forgotten to tell you about it. That's why I'm here. I want to help fix things if I can since I'm the reason you forgot to set the alarm."
She didn't hear the last part of what he'd said, just that he'd woken up with her on his mind. Amazing. She'd dreamed about him, too. "You dreamt about me?"
His cheeks turned pink and he shifted on his feet. "Yeah."
Never before had Josiah blushed when intimacy was implied between them. Had something changed in him to make him suddenly shy about sex? She remembered that he'd dumped her to allegedly become a missionary and realized that goal must not have been accomplished if he now lived at home with his parents. But they'd talk about that later. He'd mentioned the salon, but what about it? "What did you say about the salon?"
"I saw someone leaving and they looked like they'd burglarized the place. I never got a good look at the person's face because he had a mask on."
"Seriously?" If her boss found out she'd get fired. A sinking sensation heated her guts.
"Yes, but I can replace the money and you can pay me back someday. I don't want you to lose your job because of me. It's my fault you were distracted."
She rolled her eyes at him, unwilling to show him how scared she was. "You didn't distract me. I set the alarm."
Or had she? Now she couldn't remember.
"I don't remember it beeping like an alarm usually does when you set one."
Reflecting back, she realized he was right. Her stomach cramped and she started shaking. "I can't lose my job. It's the only income I have right now, and I love being a hairstylist."
He touched her sleeve. "I told you I'd replace the money so no one would know."
"How can you? I don't even know how much was in there." Her voice and her hands started trembling as panic set in. "I don't want to lie about it, but I don't know what else to do."
"I don't either, but what other choice do we have? We'll just have to hope that it's the right thing to do for now, even if my gut tells me it's a bad idea."
"Maybe I should just say something and risk getting fired. Won't she know anyway if the bills look different?"
"She might, but we have to fix this if we can. She'll get her money back. Try and think about how much was in there. Freaking out isn't going to help."
She frowned. "I know. I'm thinking."
He raised his hands. "Sorry. Just trying to help."
"Wait. My boss counted it before she left." She scanned her memory and gasped. "She usually jots a number down on the calendar at the end of the day that says how much money was in the register before she left. I need to check that first."
"Sounds good to me. Let's stop by and check before we go to the performance in town. Then you can set the alarm for real this time. Shall we?" He grabbed his Bible case and offered his arm like a chivalrous preacher. She snagged her little beaded purse from the table and accepted his arm.
"See you in a while, Mom," she called over her shoulder.
A grunting sound emitted from the other room. Must be the caregiver was still getting her mother dressed. Better to have the caregiver fighting with her mom. Sometimes taking care of her mother felt more like dealing with an ornery toddler, only bigger. She hated thinking that way about her mother, but it was true.
She glanced at Josiah, who held her gaze. What was she going to do about this man who made her heart melt every time he shot a heated glance her way? It felt like everything in her world had suddenly turned upside down, and at the same time she felt energized by his presence.
As if he could read her thoughts, he patted her hand to reassure her.
Pulling the door shut behind her, she couldn't help but think that things might start opening up for them to begin dating again. While renewing her relationship with her first love excited her, she realized it would be more complicated than that. When she accepted Christ, she had shut the door on her past. So how could she open her heart again without falling into old habits? How could she be alone with Josiah and not want to do more than kiss him?
She swallowed hard. God help them both.
*****
Josiah scanned Tara's face, wondering what she was thinking about him at that moment. The frightening thing was he hoped it was good thoughts. Everything in him wanted to make things right with her. To start over again and do it right this time. But was that even possible since she was most likely in the same spiritual state as she had been before he left town?
That shouldn't make any relationship with her impossible. Just a romantic one. But he could remedy that by bringing up his faith, and he could be a better witness this time around. So then why was his tongu
e all tied up? How could he change things so he honored God?
Josiah was the one who had persuaded her to sleep with him back in high school. She'd resisted at first, but soon gave in. Probably out of fear of losing him to another girl. Why hadn't he seen that at the time? Now he felt like scum for his behavior. Sure, he'd gotten her to give him what he'd wanted... herself, but at what cost? Once they went down that road and began having sex, it seemed like that was all they did most of the time they were together.
He examined the soft skin on the portion of her neck not covered with material, and imagined kissing her against her hairline by her ear. She would probably melt in his arms, and then what? His skin heated as he imagined where one kiss could take them.
Man, his flesh was weak. Clearing his throat, he focused his thoughts elsewhere. "So, how long have you been cutting hair?"
"A couple of years. Of course, I had to go to beauty school first." She started walking, but paused. "Where's your truck?"
"I parked it by the salon and walked to your place."
"Oh, that's good. I think."
"So what do you do for fun these days?"
"Who has time for fun?" She glanced at him and frowned. "You don't need to make small talk, you know. I'm just as happy walking in silence."
Of course she found the small talk annoying, especially when there was so much history between them. Their intimate past was the elephant in the room. So how should he bring up the subject of his faith that would feel natural and not forced?
"Tara, I--"
"Josiah, you--"
He laughed. "You go first."
"No, you should go first." She lifted one brow. "What I was going to say might change depending on what you were going to say."
"Seriously?" He'd totally forgotten his train of thought. Now that his attention had shifted to what she hadn't said, but might change depending on what he said now, his heart pounded out of control. He needed to rein in his feelings before he exposed them.
"Yep." She gave him a mischievous look that he found difficult to resist as she poked his arm. "And I'm not saying a word until you spill it, mister."
The Lonely Lady Page 4
