Which left him in a quandary.
Usually he could easily fill his time with work, but it was Sunday, and that didn’t sound appealing in the least.
He could always find a church—
He’d suggested it to Kendra originally, but she’d only laughed. It concerned him, but then he reminded himself that he would have done the same thing five years ago.
But now that he was free for the morning, he had no excuse.
Grabbing his laptop, he flopped onto the bed and did a quick search of nearby churches.
As the page loaded, a knock rapped on the door.
He frowned. Must have forgotten to put the DO NOT DISTURB card in the key slot for housekeeping.
Flipping open the deadbolt, he opened the door a crack, mindful of his bare chest and sleep pants. “I’m sorry, I don’t need—”
Words died in his throat at the sight of Sadie standing there, arms folded, fire blazing in her eyes.
“Sadie, I—”
She pushed the door open and charged past him. Her hair was thrown up in a sloppy ponytail, her bangs straight and twitching every which way instead of their normal, manicured curl right at her eyebrows. “Care to explain this?” In her outstretched hand was the check he’d scrawled out last night while she’d gone back in to tell Kendra about her broken down truck.
He’d started to write it out for a grand, but then he’d looked at her truck in all its rundown glory. It was as if his fingers acted with a mind of their own as they added another zero, scribbled the ten thousand dollars and 0/100 in barely readable cursive, and signed it.
A peace had settled over him as he tucked the check away to give to her later.
But to explain that to her? He’d assumed she would be grateful and that he would never hear from her again, except maybe a thank you through Kendra. “I wanted to repay—”
“You and I both know the damage done in the store wasn’t anywhere close to ten thousand dollars. I don’t know what kind of—”
“Sadie.”
“—Game you’re trying to play here but—”
He interrupted her again, louder this time. “Sadie.”
She huffed and crossed her arms across her chest. “What?”
“Do you believe in God?” His next words would depend on her answer.
Suspicion never left her eyes, but the anger lines softened a bit. “Yes. I do. Why?”
“So you’re a Christian?”
Her eyes widened a bit in curiosity. “Yes. Not always a very good one, but I am.”
Nate turned to the counter above the mini-fridge and poured himself a cup of coffee he’d had brewing, anything to keep his mind on task and off the fact that he was alone with a beautiful woman in his hotel room, and he was wearing only flannel pajama pants. He’d pull on a shirt but was afraid it’d just draw attention to a place her thoughts hadn't even gone. His, however, were a different story. “You and I both know there is no good or bad Christian. We’re all saved by grace from the same God.” He and his wayward thoughts were in need of that grace right now. He picked up the extra disposable cup. “Coffee?”
She eyed the cup, hesitating, but shook her head. “No. And we’re getting off the subject. What does this all have to do with the money?”
Pouring her a cup anyway, he handed it to her. She accepted it as he figured she would. Two cups of hot liquid between them as a barrier was a very good thing. “Because God told me to add a zero to the check. “
She sipped out of the rim of the cup and glared at him. “He did not.”
“Believe me, sweetheart. I don’t go around throwing ten grand at women in distress just for kicks.” The endearment slipped out before he could stop it. He just couldn’t help it. She looked down right adorable when she was mad.
He regretted his slip even more when her eyes narrowed. “Sweetheart?”
Not being able to explain the—fine, he’d admit it—the attraction he felt every time she was near, he chose to ignore her question. “Listen. Tear the check up if you want. But I honestly felt like it was the amount God was telling me to give. I was a jerk yesterday, and call it buying myself peace or whatever you want, it’s what I needed to do.”
She stared at him for longer than was appropriate before her gaze drifted to his shirtless torso. She quickly averted her eyes, looking everywhere but at him. “Okay. Fine. But for the record. I don’t need your money or your pity.”
“I never said you did.” Although he had a sneaky feeling she did need a little money.
She turned to leave, but as her hand covered the doorknob, a horrible idea hit him, and the words popped out of his mouth before he could stop them. “Sadie, do you go to church?”
Oh why couldn’t he just let her go?
She turned back around, and her stomach started with its crazy two-step again.
No man should look that amazing without a shirt on. It’d been way too long—and she felt way too weak this morning after a long night of tossing and turning, filled with crazy dreams that may or may not have starred the man standing in front of her.
She’d woken up for the last time at four a.m. and decided it was all his fault she couldn’t sleep. He had looked at her as a charity case, which she most certainly was not, and she would fix that as soon as it was a respectable time to show up. She’d had to call Kendra and ask a few innocent sounding questions to get the name of his hotel. And thankfully the front desk clerk was a girl Mari had graduated high school with, so getting his room number had been simple.
Mari had told her she was out of her mind, to just take the money. But then, she was only eighteen. She couldn’t begin to understand.
But truth was, Sadie didn’t really understand it all either.
She looked at him again and his eyebrows were raised expectantly.
Oh, yeah.
Church. Yes, that’d been his question. She forced her eyes to meet his gaze, not even an inch lower. “Yes, I—usually go to church. But Mari and I are staying home this morning.” No need to mention it was because they didn’t have a way to get there, and while on a nice day she might have walked, today, after already walking here, not so much.
His eyes held a question, probably the why aren’t you going one she refused to answer, so she continued. “I’d be happy to give you the address and directions though.”
He handed her the hotel scratch pad and pen. “Thanks. Kendra canceled on me for breakfast, so I thought I’d try out a local church. The roads look clear enough.”
She scribbled the address and a few quick directions onto the paper and handed it back. “Hope you enjoy it.”
He followed her to the door. “Wait, you didn’t walk all the way here, did you?”
Stepping into the hallway, she eyed the elevator then glanced back at him. “No, I flew. Didn’t you know? Jet packs are all the rage these days.”
“Now that I’d like to see. But seriously. It’s like a mile up the parkway. You were that mad at me?”
Yes. That’s what one does when a man causes her to have nightmares and little sleep. “I always go for a morning walk, I just directed it here is all.” And added about a half-mile uphill to her normal walking routine and froze her booty off the whole way.
“If you hold on a minute, I can drive—”
She took a few backward steps. “No really. I’m good. Have a nice time at church.” Turning, she fled to the elevator and jabbed the down button.
His low voice called out from where he stood in the doorway. “What time does church start?”
She glanced back as the elevator dinged. “Ten-forty-five.”
“Good. I’ll pick you and Mari up at ten-thirty. Be ready.”
Before she could protest, he stepped back and let the hotel door slam closed in front of him.
Eight
Sadie slipped a long, green cable-knit sweater over her head and tugged it down over her jeans with a huff.
She should have knocked on that door again and told him not even to t
hink about showing up at her house.
But she was a big, honkin’ pushover. A people pleaser who had an insanely difficult time telling people, except for Mari, no.
And he said all the right words.
God told me to give you the money.
I’m taking you to church.
How does a good Christian woman say no to logic like that?
She doesn’t. At least not this one.
And where was that good Christian woman when she was standing there, alone with him in a hotel room, staring at his well-chiseled chest and abs? Okay, there was a little pudge there, and he was no Channing Tatum or anything, but he obviously worked out and it looked good on him.
Blinking, she shook her head again to get the alluring image from her brain.
Stop it, Sadie. She should not be ogling a man. It was physical attraction, plain and simple. And just like she taught her daughter, looking at a boy at skin level may please the eyes but was dangerous for the heart. It’s the inside that counts.
And so far, Nate Meyers had shown himself to be pushy, overbearing, demanding, and controlling.
He was nothing like her. She was a country mouse, and he was a city lion. He’d swallow her whole.
So then, why was she getting ready to ride to church with him?
Because her traitor heart had gone all school-girl giddy at the idea of riding next to him.
Slipping on a pair of knee-high, brown leather boots over her jeans, she turned and surveyed herself in the full-length mirror.
Nothing fancy, but not too casual. Perfect for her laid back church. And the heels of the boots gave her a few extra inches in height so she’d be on Nate’s level. He wasn’t overly tall, maybe 5’10 if he were lucky, so the extra inches should work nicely.
Tucking her blond hair behind her ears, she frowned. It wasn’t like she’d be standing next to him the whole time. They weren’t going as a couple or anything.
Who was she kidding? Every member of her small church would be needling her with questions about the handsome man she brought to church. Wouldn’t they be disappointed.
Grabbing a chunky beige scarf, she wrapped it around her neck, took one last look in the mirror, then headed downstairs.
Mari was already in the kitchen, sipping on a cup of coffee. “Wow, Mom. You look nice. Big date?”
Grabbing a mug, she poured herself her third cup of the day. She’d be bouncing off the walls by the time service started. “Shush. He’s just taking us to church as a nice gesture, okay?”
“Whatever you say.”
Sadie pierced her daughter with her gaze. “Mari, don’t go there.”
She fluttered her hand at her chest, looking all fake-innocent. “Go where, mother-dear? All I'm saying is that Kendra’s hunky big brother seems to be awfully attentive to you.”
“You sound like you want me to date him.” The very idea was absurd.
“Maybe I do. What’s so bad about that? You’re smart, single. You deserve happiness too, Mom.” Mari set her cup in the sink and turned around, her straightened blond hair framing her face beautifully. She looked so—grown up. When had that happened?
Pushing the thought away, she set down her cup and shook her head. “I have all the happiness I need, sweetie. I have an amazing daughter, a job where I get to celebrate the best holiday all year long, and a God who loves me. I can’t get much more blessed than that.” The words coming out of her mouth sounded really good. It was all true, right?
Then why did she feel like her joy had been sucked clear out of her?
It’d all started when—
The doorbell rang.
Sadie frowned. It’d all started when Nate Meyers stepped into her store yesterday.
Turning on her heel, she walked to the door, back straight, to greet Mr. Joy Stealer himself.
Standing with her hand on the knob, she took a breath. She could do this. She would go to church. Keep a nice, twelve-inch distance between them. Introduce him to all the eligible women in the church, and wash her hands of him.
He was leaving tomorrow anyway.
Then her joy could return in abundance.
Nate rested his hand on the dip in Sadie’s back, guiding her through the crowd that gathered after service in the small country church. It was quaint, complete with hymnals in the pews and stained glass windows lining the sanctuary—much different than some of the mega churches he’d attended in various cities across the globe.
Yet the church members were nothing like he'd expected. He’d dressed in a suit and tie, but they were all in jeans and sweaters, with a few dress slacks and skirts mixed in. He’d shaken more hands than he could count and declined over a dozen invitations for Sunday dinner.
The pastor, decked out in jeans, a dress shirt with buttons straining around his midsection, and cowboy boots, waved them over to where he stood. “Sadie. I see you brought a guest today.”
She looked up at Nate, her cheeks tinged a light pink. “Yes. Pastor Silas, this is Nate Meyers. He’s, uh, the brother of a friend of mine. He asked if I could recommend a good church, and of course I said I could. Then he—”
Nate squeezed her waist, cutting off her rambling, then reached out to shake the pastor’s hand. “The message was great, Pastor. I really enjoyed it.”
And that was the whole truth. It was about not letting our own desires and agendas override God’s. All Nate could think about was driving to South Carolina tomorrow morning and how with every passing hour, it felt less and less right.
Was God trying to tell him something?
Yet staying in the mountains made no sense. He’d have to find a temporary place to stay, somewhere he had good Internet access so he could still work. And no doubt Kendra would be busy with her own job, so it wasn't like they’d get a lot of extra time together.
What was the point?
There wasn’t one.
Pastor Silas flashed him a grin. “Glad to hear it, son. Will we see you back here next Sunday?”
Sadie shook her head with a little more force than necessary. “No, he’s leaving tomorr—”
“Actually, maybe. I’m tossing around the idea of staying in town through Christmas.” There. He’d said it. And now that the words had left his mouth, they sounded good.
Christmas in the mountains with his sister. Kendra would be ecstatic.
Sadie, however, looked up at him as if he’d just grown antlers. “You’re what?”
He shrugged. “I can work remotely. Kendra’s been begging me to spend Christmas with her for years. So why not? I’m usually stuck in some foreign country for work over the holidays, so this will be a treat.”
The pastor’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. “You travel for work, then?”
Nate nodded. “All over the globe. I’m a consultant in project management and specialize in companies that are struggling, helping them turn things around and put processes in place to keep them on track.” He also helped close down companies that didn’t stand a chance. That was the worst part of his job, like a corporate version of assisted suicide. He usually left that depressing detail out of his job description though.
Pastor Silas crossed his arms and put a hand to his chin, stroking his beard. “You know, Sadie, if Nate’s going to be around a while, he could help us with the play.”
If a record had been playing in Nate’s head, it just let off an awful screech as it grinded to a stop. “Wait, what?” His sister was the thespian, not him.
Sadie was shaking her head and not liking whatever the pastor was talking about either. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
But Pastor Silas looked happier than a kid chomping on a peppermint stick. “Nonsense. Sadie here leads the kids every year in the annual Christmas play at church. They perform it during the Christmas Eve service. This year, the theme is Christmas around the globe, highlighting how different countries celebrate the birth of Christ. With your experience, you’d be the perfect person to help her.”
Give him a failing billion dollar company, and he was in his comfort zone. Even throw in a dash of corporate espionage, and he’d sniff it out. A play? That’d be bad enough. But kids? No way. Not happening. Nate stuffed his sweaty palms into his pockets and shook his head. “I don’t think—”
Sadie perked up and elbowed him in the side. “Actually, now that I think about it, it’s a fabulous idea. Nate will be perfect, and I bet we can even find a fun part for him.”
The evil pastor nodded. “You were just telling me last week you needed a Joseph.”
“You’re right. He would be perfect for the part!”
Nate waved a hand. “Hello. I’m still here, you know?”
Sadie patted his arm. “We know. Now, let’s go chat about plans. Good talking with you, Pastor.”
Pastor Silas grinned and waved as Sadie all but pushed him out of the sanctuary and down the front steps of the church.
Nate grabbed her arm and pulled her to the side away from the listening ears of the church members still loitering around. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Sadie hiked her chin up a notch. “Payback.”
“For what?”
“You know what.” She lowered her voice, mimicking him. “I’ll be at your house at ten-thirty. Be ready. Door slam. How was I supposed to say no to that?”
“So let me get this straight. I wanted to be nice and take you to church since you obviously didn’t have a vehicle to drive, and this makes me a bad guy?”
“Nope. But it does make you a guy who is going to be helping out with a children’s play at church.”
“I’m not fond of—or rather, good with kids.” Understatement of the year. Really, he’d never been around kids to know one way or the other. Truth be told, they scared him.
“Jesus said let the children come to me. They won’t bite, Nate.”
He shuddered. There was a chance the little rug-rats would bite?
But he’d already agreed. In front of the Pastor. He really didn’t have another choice. “Fine. I'll help, but I will not, I repeat not, act in your little play as Joseph.”
A (kinda) Country Christmas: A Christian Holiday Romance Page 4
