Love Blossoms: 7 Spring-Fresh Christian Romances

by Kimberly Rae Jordan

  He pulled her to her feet, wrapped his warm arms around Tamsyn’s waist, and drew her close, forehead to forehead.

  “I’ve had a wonderful week with you, Tamsyn. Best vacation ever.”

  “But now you must go back to work.”

  “Monday. My two business partners are taking care of business this week. Well, Hiroki is holding up the fort, and Jared is giving him fits. That’s the way it rolls at RYUCP.”

  “It’s hard when you have a business partnership. That’s why I’m the sole owner of Tamsyn Tours.”

  “Your dad’s not involved?”

  “We split the riverboat cruise profits, but that’s about it.”

  “Why are we talking about business?” Ryan asked.

  “You started it.”

  “I was talking about doing irrational things out of love.”

  “If your love comes from God, it’s very rational. God is love, and there is no other type of love worthy of being called such.”

  “You just said love three times in that statement,” Ryan said.

  “Meaning what?”

  “It’s on your mind.”

  “And yours.” Tamsyn’s voice was whisper-soft.

  “Yes…” His lips found hers, softly at first, and then with a determination he didn’t know he had.

  Ryan knew then that he didn’t want to let Tamsyn go.

  Chapter Fourteen

  But let her go, he must.

  Work beckoned, and by Monday morning at eight on the dot, Ryan Ruttledge was back at the glass desk in his sterile room—steel, crystal, and all. The air-conditioner blasted all around him, making his heart feel colder by the minute.

  Hiroki was silent as he sat on the other side of the table, swiping his iPad, ignoring Ryan for the most part.

  “What?” Ryan asked between sips of cappuccino.

  Silence.

  “What, Hiroki?”

  A grunt. Then Hiroki let it out. “Here’s the deal. We sent you to Savannah on a scouting mission.”

  “Yeah. I’d say it was a success.”

  “No, it wasn’t. You were supposed to figure out how the opposition thinks, and how we could knock down Save Old Savannah. You weren’t supposed to fall in love with the city.”

  I didn’t fall in love with Savannah.

  I fell in love with—

  Wow. I did, didn’t I?

  “Life happens.” It was all Ryan wanted to say.

  “Life didn’t just happen, Ryan, old boy.” Hiroki tapped his iPad something fierce. “Have you even prayed about this?”

  “Some.”

  “Pray more. It’s entirely possible you were seduced.”

  “And that would be your fault.” Ryan pointed at Hiroki. “You put me up to it with the double tickets to the Friday night romantic riverboat cruise.”

  “My mistake.”

  The door opened, and in walked Jared Urquhart. He went straight to the cappuccino machine. “I see you’ve already started fighting without me.”

  Hiroki grunted. “Tell him, Ryan.”

  “Tell me what?” Jared asked.

  “He’s in love.”

  “Can’t help you there.” Jared laughed. He plopped down on a sofa nearby and savored his cappuccino. He glanced at Ryan, then at Hiroki. “Maybe I don’t want to know.”

  “Yes, you do, Jared. The woman is Tamsyn Pendegrast, whose Queen Anne Victorian we’re trying to buy for the project in Savannah.”

  “That’s good, isn’t it?” Jared glanced at Ryan. “Now you can persuade her to give it up.”

  “That’s the problem,” Hiroki said. “Ryan now believes the Victorian needs to be preserved.”

  Ryan cleared his throat. “I’ve been looking at other options. Just four blocks south of there are some vacant lots and rundown office complexes we can buy. Down the road from River Street, near the Talmadge Memorial Bridge, there are some warehouses we can convert into mixed-use complexes. We don’t need Rosa Pendegrast Lane.”

  “What are we going to do with the two houses we’ve already bought?” Jared asked.

  “Glad you asked.” Ryan leaned forward at his desk. “I googled and found two more nineteenth century houses for sale a block or so away. What if we take those four houses and turn them into a living museum as part of our mixed-use plan?”

  Jared appeared intrigued.

  Ryan waited.

  “You mean fix them up to be period-authentic and then…?” Jared asked.

  “And then rent them out to people who want to live in historic homes but don’t want to mess with their high maintenance.”

  “Vacationers?”

  “Anyone.” Like me, for example. If I move to Savannah, I could rent one of these houses. Ryan decided he’d talk to Jared later about opening an RYUCP branch in Savannah. “It’s nothing new, Jared. There are historic homes in Savannah for rent.”

  “Sure.”

  “And you can go to France and rent a historic chateau, for example.”

  “Right, but these are no chateaus or castles,” Jared reminded him.

  “Savannah might be smaller, but the potential is there. You can rent a small nineteenth century historic home for six or seven hundred a night. I think for these houses, we could go for more. And if we wanted to sell—let’s say, down the road—historic homes have high property values in that city.”

  “There’s that.” Jared nodded. “Still, if the two new properties you found are anything like the two we’ve already bought to demolish, the costs of reconstruction would be enormous.”

  “We could get an estimate from Brooks Reno. You know they’ll give us a fair price.”

  “True. Have you talked to Brinley Brooks?” Jared asked.

  Yes, Ryan had. Brinley Books ran Brooks Renovations out of St. Simon’s Island, but they worked up and down the coast, from Savannah to Darien to St. Mary’s and beyond. Ryan had thought of Brooks Renovations because they had a good reputation, and Jared had known Brinley since they were kids living next door to each other on Sea Island.

  Still, Ryan wanted to clear the air so Jared didn’t misunderstand that he hadn’t overstep his position as Vice President. “I didn’t call Brinley about our properties. I called her about Tam’s house.”

  “So it’s Tam now, huh?” Jared put his cup on the glass coffee table in front of him.

  “I wanted to know how much it would cost to fix up Tam’s 1882 house. I figured if I sold some stocks, I could help her out.”

  “Okay. That’s a private matter.” Jared leaned back on the couch. “Tell me, Ryan, who’s going to manage the living museum?”

  “I’m thinking that since we already have properties in Savannah, we should have an RYUCP office there.”

  Jared grinned. “Your office.”

  Hiroki shook his head. “Can’t fight love.”

  “How much are those two other houses?” Jared asked.

  “Glad you asked. I called Dominic. He said one of the houses is underpriced, and the current homeowners have restored the first floor. They ran out of money. Divorce scenario.”

  “As long as we don’t spend more than two mil per house, does that sounds okay to you, Hiroki?” Jared rubbed his temples and cringed.

  Ryan wondered if he was nursing another hangover. Someday, when he had a good opportunity—and enough guts—he would witness to Jared, tell him about Jesus, the curer of the ills in his heart. Jared didn’t need all those spirits from bars if he had the Holy Spirit of God.

  Then again, to each his own. Ryan could tell Jared about Jesus, but Jared had to make his own decision.

  Meanwhile, Ryan had some historic homes to salvage.

  “So now we’re no longer demolishing, but we’re preserving history?” Hiroki asked. His voice sounded amused, but at the same time his face looked pleased. Ryan couldn’t interpret that mixed reaction.

  Jared turned his attention to Hiroki. “Seriously, what do you think?”

  Hiroki drew a deep breath.

  “Can’t fight
love,” he said again.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The long distance relationship had taken a toll on both of them, especially on Tamsyn. Every Friday evening in May and June, Ryan had flown into Savannah, and every late Sunday night or early Monday morning, he had flown back to Atlanta.

  All that flying back and forth meant too many goodbyes for Tamsyn to bear.

  Every weekend, Ryan stayed for two or three nights on the Caleigh Pendegrast riverboat, which made her dad terribly happy to have someone to beat at chess.

  Yes, it had surprised Tamsyn that Ryan played chess.

  It had surprised her even more that Ryan had chosen to spend his weekends in Savannah with her, working around her Saturday tour schedules, attending Riverside Chapel with her, and hanging out with her friends from church.

  And her dad.

  How long could this last?

  This Sunday, after the evening service, Tamsyn decided they needed to talk about it. Ryan would have to be out the door by four in the morning to catch his five thirty Monday morning flight back to Atlanta and get back to work.

  Piper’s Place was never empty. It was close to ten o’clock and they were sitting by the window on the third floor looking at the night lights up and down Savannah River and eating peach cobbler after their seafood dinner.

  “Something’s on your mind,” Ryan said quietly.

  “Thank you for the Brooks Reno appraisal,” Tamsyn began tentatively.

  “Uh-oh. Is there a problem?”

  “This is the seventh weekend in a row you’ve spent in Savannah.” She didn’t want to hurt Ryan’s feelings, but it needed to be said.

  “With you.”

  “It’s not practical.”

  “I don’t care about the money.”

  “I can see that.”

  “I’m raking up frequent flyer miles.” Ryan reached across the table for Tamsyn’s hand. “Besides, the flight is only one hour each way. It beats driving five hours here and five hours back.”

  “For five hundred dollars each round trip.”

  “It’s worth it. You’re worth it. You’re priceless to me.”

  She let him massage the back of her hand. That was nice, but it only happened on weekends. The rest of the week, she was alone, and so was he.

  “I can’t move to Atlanta,” Tamsyn confessed. “There, I said it.”

  “And I can’t move to Savannah. I want to, but my job is in Atlanta.”

  “Mine is in Savannah. I can’t give Savannah tours in Atlanta.” She laughed.

  “I’m more flexible than you. I’m going to talk to my partners about opening an RYUCP branch in Savannah. It could take a few years.”

  Years? Yikes. “Meanwhile, you keep buying plane tickets? It just feels like a waste of money.”

  “Nothing I do for you is a waste of money or time.”

  “That’s endearing, Ryan.”

  “Endearing? That’s all?”

  “You know me. I’m a practical person. Two thousand dollars of plane tickets a month times twelve adds up. That’s practically a year’s salary for some people.”

  Ryan retracted his hand from Tamsyn’s.

  His face steeled.

  He finished his peach cobbler without another word.

  “I’m sorry.” Tamsyn really was. “I prayed about it, but I don’t see how we can work out.”

  “You prayed about it? Well, I did too.”

  “Good. What did God say to you?” Tamsyn tried to keep it cheerful, but she knew what Ryan was getting at. Don’t use the God card to justify her own rationale.

  Well, it’s logical for him to save his money. Twenty four thousand dollars a year of plane tickets is a lot of money.

  “What about the discussions on restoring your house?” Ryan asked.

  “Thank you—again—for paying for the appraisal that Brooks Renovations did, but the price is too steep, and I can’t afford it at this time, even with your offer to pay for half of it.”

  “I’ll pay for all of it,” Ryan said.

  “I don’t want you to go into debt.”

  “For you, I’ll do anything.”

  “If you go into debt, you’re going have a heap of financial trouble, and that’s going to destroy our relationship.”

  “Seriously?” Ryan put down his fork. In spite of their fractious conversation, Tamsyn noted that he had polished off his peach cobbler.

  “Seems like you’ve been negative all evening,” Ryan said.

  “I’m trying to be prac—”

  “Yeah, yeah. Want to hear what I think?”

  “S-sure.”

  “Tamsyn, I think you’re afraid.”

  “Afraid? I’m not afraid.” Only then did Tamsyn realized that her hand was shaking as it reached for her glass of cold water with lime in it.

  “Let me finish, will you?” Ryan leaned forward.

  His brown eyes met hers. For a moment, Tamsyn forgot why she had to stand her ground, why she had to do what she had to do, why she had to—whatever it was.

  “What are you working for, Tamsyn Pendegrast? In ten, twenty years, will Tamsyn Tours all there is to life?”

  “Not life, but livelihood. It’s my job.”

  “I hear you. You love giving tours. You love this city. But this city, your career, your tours—none of those things are your life.”

  “No, of course not. I have God.”

  “Exactly. And what does God tell you about your life?”

  “I want to serve Him, do some church work, go on mission trips. I can’t do any of that if I don’t have the money, you know. I feel that Tamsyn Tours gives me a vehicle to be able to give to the church and help its ministries.”

  “That’s a noble cause. You know that I tithe too, right? At Midtown Chapel, I sponsor mission trips and inner city kids attending VBS and teen camps.”

  I didn’t know that. “That’s good.”

  “But I want a family too.”

  Tamsyn didn’t know what to say about that.

  “You’re turning twenty eight soon. Have you thought about getting married, having kids?” Ryan asked.

  “Not now.”

  “I’m talking about you and me. Marry me, Tamsyn.”

  What! “Did you just propose to me?”

  “I guess I did. Oh, I don’t have a ring. But I am serious about this.”

  “You’ve been thinking about it?”

  “I have. I don’t want to lose you, Tam.”

  “See what I mean? Weren’t we talking about this very thing? We can’t just do whatever.”

  “We’re not doing whatever.”

  “We can’t be a part-time couple, seeing each other only on weekends. It won’t work for me.”

  “Then move to Atlanta.”

  “We’ve also discussed that only minutes ago, Ryan.”

  “I’ll find a way to move to Savannah, then.”

  “In a few years, you said.”

  “Well, until then…”

  “Maybe you could look me up in a few years.”

  “What are you saying?” Ryan’s face looked stunned.

  “Maybe this isn’t working out.”

  “We should pray about this before we call it quits.”

  “I don’t know how it’ll work out.”

  “God knows,” Ryan said. “Nothing is impossible with Him. Romans 8:28.”

  Tamsyn frowned at him. “That’s another verse, Ryan. I think it’s Luke 1:37. ‘For with God nothing shall be impossible.’”

  “I was thinking of another verse similar to that.” Ryan produced his iPhone and looked it up. “Here it is. ‘And Jesus looking upon them saith, With men it is impossible, but not with God: for with God all things are possible.’ Mark 10:27.”

  “Of course, you know that Romans 8:28 says, ‘And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.’”

  “There you go,” Ryan said. “Maybe we should both keep that in mind.”
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  “And until we know what God’s will is for us, don’t spend any more money on plane tickets coming to Savannah,” Tamsyn replied. “Agreed?”

  “I have to see you.”

  “I’ll miss you too.”

  “But?”

  “We have to know if our feelings are simply emotional reactions to each other, irrational things we do when we’re in love. Do you remember saying that when we had tea on my back porch?”

  Ryan nodded. “I enjoyed that. I want to have tea with you every afternoon the rest of my life.”

  “If it’s God’s will for us, then we will, but we have to be sure, right?” Tamsyn asked.

  “Which leads us back to the impossible verses,” Ryan said. “I think we should remember one more verse, Tam. Maybe this is what we should pray over.”

  “That is?”

  “‘But without faith it is impossible to please him: for he that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him.’”

  “Hebrews 11:6. Mom’s favorite verse.”

  “Was it?”

  Tamsyn nodded. Eyes closed, she held back tears.

  A warm arm went around her shoulders. She didn’t have to look up. It was Ryan. As quick as lightning, he slid out of his seat across the table and sat down next to her.

  He said nothing as he wiped tears from Tamsyn’s eyes with a napkin—a coarse napkin!

  She didn’t complain.

  “I’m in love with you,” Ryan whispered in her ear. “I will always love you, even if you can’t see us being together.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Fourth of July was a lucrative time of year for Tamsyn Tours. It ended well with Tamsyn and her tour guides dropping off the tourists at River Street where they would go for dinner—twenty percent discount at Piper’s Place and other local eateries—followed by fireworks over Savannah River.

  Tamsyn could’ve had dinner and watched fireworks with Dad on his special Independence Day dinner cruise, but she was exhausted. All she wanted to do was to go home and get some rest. She wanted to check her emails, her company finances, and then go to bed.

  She parked her car on Rosa Pendegrast Lane, hauled her tote and backpack out of the trunk, and trekked up the sidewalk to her house. She wondered if someday she might own a house with a garage. If she did, she wanted carriage doors. Until then, here she was, parking her car on the roadside.