by JoAnn Durgin
“First of all, age doesn’t matter. I want you to say yes because you want to catch up with an old friend.” He raked a hand through that lush mane of naturally blond hair. “Honestly, Winnie? I didn’t come to Houston with the purpose of asking you out. I came here to ask Sam’s forgiveness—and your forgiveness. To tell you how sorry I am for the way I treated you, the way things were when I left the camp. We never had the opportunity to say a proper good-bye.”
“Seems to me it’s a little late for that. Being proper, I mean,” she stammered, making a total mess of this awkward conversation.
He looked deep into her eyes. Mesmerized, she couldn’t even turn her head, her eyes locked with his. Winnie squirmed and prayed he couldn’t tell how fast her pulse was racing. “Then let’s make it a proper hello.”
The man could be a scriptwriter; he had her hooked all over again.
“I hope you’ll believe me when I tell you that you were the last woman I was with in every conceivable sense of the word.”
Conceivable? Oh, Josh, you have no idea.
“I want you to know my track record isn’t pretty, but I’m also not the evil guy others might have led you to believe. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”
She nodded. “Yes,” she said. “No one thinks you’re evil, and your so-called track record is none of my concern.” She was still stuck on his sentiment about a proper good-bye. What, exactly, would have been proper in their case? How am I supposed to process this information? Lord, a little help here, please. Yes, yes, I’ll go to dinner with you. That’s how you answer. Since Chloe was born, she hadn’t been on an honest-to-goodness date, although she’d been asked. She’d agree to dinner with Josh—for a nice meal and adult conversation, if nothing else. Oh yes, and telling this man he had a child. Any excuse will do. When the Lord opened a door, she’d learned to walk through it with her head held high.
“There’s something between us, Winnie.” He stepped closer. “You can’t tell me I’m the only one in this room who knows that.”
You’re right, Josh, but you have no idea it’s a little girl named Chloe. Inhaling a deep breath, she lowered her voice. “You’re just remembering that night. Seeing each other brings it all to the surface again. Let the dust settle a little. Then we’ll talk.”
“Not that it in any way excuses what I did, but we’re good together. I felt it then, and I sense it now. The timing was wrong and we gave into temptation, but I repented of my bad behavior long ago and asked the Lord and everyone else I could think of for forgiveness. I’ve pushed certain things out of my life because I didn’t know how to handle them.” He paused a moment before finishing his thought. “Seeing you here today, I’m finally beginning to understand why.”
What in the world is the man trying to say? “Oh, calm down already. I’ll go to dinner with you. How long did you say you’re in town?” She tried her best to sound nonchalant but failed miserably. She knew it, but even worse, Josh probably knew it.
“I have to be back in Baton Rouge early next week at the latest.” He paused, eyeing her closely. Why, she couldn’t fathom. “Until then, I’ll take it day by day.”
“Okay, then. One dinner,” she said.
“That’s all I ask.”
“Not tonight, though. I have a date with the Red Hat Society. It’s a dinner we’re catering.” She glanced at her watch and frowned. “Look, this has been great and all, but I really need to get to work now.” Smoothing a hand over the front of her dress, she managed a small smile.
“Let me help you.” Josh put a hand on her arm.
She darted her eyes to his hand and then back to his face. Would she never learn? Those green eyes are big old pools of luscious water, inviting me to drink. It’s just not fair. “Help me how?”
“I can serve, dish out food, pour drinks, whatever you need. Surely you could use an extra pair of hands. Just give me something to do, and put me to work.”
“What?” That came out louder than intended. Something fell in the kitchen. Raising an eyebrow, Winnie gestured for Josh to follow. Giving the swinging door a slight push, she heard a muffled yelp.
“Now, why did you have to go and do that?” Lexa said, rubbing her nose as they moved into the kitchen.
“That’s what you get for eavesdropping.” It crossed her mind to be mad, but the expression on Lexa’s face was too comical. How much of their conversation had she heard?
“I really wasn’t eavesdropping.” Lexa shrugged her shoulders with a sheepish grin. “I only heard the last part of your conversation. But if I were you, I’d take Josh up on his offer,” she said as she returned to a tray of canapés.
Winnie frowned. “You told me you had the staff situation under control.”
“It is under control. Josh is onboard now, and when Sam knows that, maybe he’ll be more agreeable. Up until now, I’ve tried to persuade him but nothing’s worked.”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Winnie shot a sidelong glance toward Josh. “I guess that means you’re hired. By the way, you’re grossly overqualified since we don’t normally require our servers to have a law degree. And you’ll have to live with a much lower wage scale.”
Josh’s smile was reward enough. Well, now, isn’t this going well? She darted a quick glance at Lexa, who patently ignored her, busying herself with the canapés again. One thing Winnie knew: if she caught another one of those knowing winks exchanged with Sam anytime again soon, she might just have to smack her, catering partner or not.
Chapter 7
Tuesday, Late Afternoon
“Aren’t you supposed to alternate the vegetables with the meat or shrimp?” Rebekah picked up another soaked bamboo skewer. Shaking it, she handed it to Kevin and watched as he speared a row of cherry tomatoes with accurate precision.
“You can, but cherry tomatoes are different,” he said. “These little babies only take a couple of minutes to cook, so you need to grill them separately.” He pointed to her half-loaded skewer. “It’s also good to keep the ingredients about the same size so they cook evenly, and you’ve done a great job with that. I hereby crown you a certified kabob specialist.”
Rebekah grinned in the way only she could, and it reached those beautiful green eyes. He could stare at her all day. So could every man in Louisiana, but he was learning to live with it. She was the type of woman who garnered attention without trying, even though he knew she didn’t like it.
“You’re pretty handy to have around,” she said. “Tell me, did they teach you how to load a kabob in engineering class at A&M?”
He cleared his throat and focused on his task. “Of course. They taught us things besides how to install a light bulb. My mom hoodwinked Tommy and me into helping her prepare kabobs once when we were kids.” He shrugged. “Guess I never forgot it.”
“Haven’t done it since?” Her smile teased, those luscious lips inviting.
“Not once. Until today. Must be like riding a bike.”
Rebekah shook her head. “I can’t see Tommy having the patience to make kabobs.”
“You’re right. He’d rather be eating them. By the way, he said to tell the lovely Rebekah hi.” Tommy adored Rebekah and kept pushing Kevin to ask her to join him in holy matrimony. He loved her all right, and knew in his heart she was the one, but he wasn’t ready to confess undying devotion until everything was in place for a permanent commitment—until he’d saved enough for a deposit on a house and a diamond ring. Even though they’d worked a few TeamWork missions together, they’d only dated a little over a year.
Using the back of her hand, Rebekah flipped her ponytail behind one shoulder. He preferred her hair loose and natural around her shoulders, but she looked incredible any way she wore it. It made more sense to wear it pulled back for a picnic and it might be too distracting if she wore it down. He watched as she speared a couple of shrimp.
“Here,” he said, handing her another skewer. “Use two for shrimp. It helps cook it evenly.” She watched as he
demonstrated. “Sorry, Rebekah.” He handed it to her. “I’m getting annoying now, huh?” The last thing he wanted to be was annoying, but maybe he shouldn’t have left the question open-ended.
She shook her head. “You couldn’t be annoying if you tried. You’re like the guy next door, the favorite teacher, the cute pizza delivery guy and the crush from high school all rolled into one adorable package.”
He looked at her askance, one brow raised. “Thanks?” Adorable. That was the last thing he wanted to be called, but coming from her, he’d accept whatever she offered.
“Trust me, that’s a good thing,” she said. “You can call me Beck, you know. After all, everyone else does. I kind of like it.”
“Sorry, but I can’t. You’ll always be Rebekah to me. Beck is too masculine for such a beautiful woman.” Maybe that was laying it on thick, but he considered it pretty bold coming from an adorable man. He finished loading another kabob and placed it on the platter beside them, catching the flush in her cheeks at his compliment.
“So, how many more of these kabobs are we making?” she asked, leaning closer, bringing a whiff of her light, citrusy perfume. It must be a popular scent for women since the bank officer and a woman in the grocery line also wore it. Of course, it always brought Rebekah to mind. As if he needed much incentive to think about her.
He sight-counted the remaining wood skewers. “Thirty or thereabouts.”
“Okay. Let’s pick up speed then. I think they’re waiting for us, and I’d hate to be accused of dawdling.”
“May it never be,” Kevin murmured, working faster on the next skewer as he raced her. Looking over his shoulder, he noticed some of the men gathered around the huge pots for the crawfish boil. “Don’t they know a watched pot never boils?”
She laughed. “Very funny. Hi, Jason!” She waved at a boy he presumed was one of her students; the child brightened and waved back.
“I imagine all the boys in your class are in love with you,” Kevin said. “None of my teachers ever looked like you. Which, in retrospect, was a good thing. It would have been hard to concentrate on math facts with you looking over my shoulder, Miss Grant.” He leaned forward to kiss her, but stopped, thinking better of it.
Later, she mouthed. They talked for the next ten minutes as they prepared the remaining kabobs. “There!” She put the last one on the platter. “Race you to the grill!” she called over her shoulder, hurrying across the short expanse to the grill, leaving him with the kabobs.
“Unfair advantage, Rebekah.” He shook his head, content to sit and watch the view.
~~**~~
Trina Welch caught Rebekah’s eye and motioned her over to where she was setting one of the picnic tables. The expression on the school psychologist’s face was intriguing—a combination of concern and bemusement as she handed her packages of napkins and plastic silverware.
“What’s that look all about?” Rebekah blew out a sigh. “What have I done now?”
“You know very well, young lady.” Trina didn’t look at her but moved to an adjacent table, nodding over her shoulder. Michael Harrison, the school’s gym teacher, talked with Kevin by one of the big pots. Rebekah grinned when she saw Kevin pull a Saints apron over his head, tie it in back and take the paddle Michael handed to him.
“Please don’t make me feel guilty,” Rebekah said. “Kevin and I have never said we’re exclusive.”
Trina nodded. “I know that, but the big difference here is that you’ve known him a lot longer than Adam. Working those TeamWork missions with him was a great way to get to know each other. Reveals true character and the heart of a person. The way he looks at you, that sweet man’s under the impression he’s the only man you’re seeing.” She tossed a glance Kevin’s way as she moved to another table. “Adam does know about Kevin, right?”
“I have no idea what Adam knows,” Rebekah snapped. She counted under her breath for a few seconds. Avoiding Trina’s scrutiny, she concentrated on her task. “When I turned down Adam’s marriage proposal, he accepted that decision on my terms. He was fully aware I wasn’t ready to make a permanent commitment.” She paused. “As a matter of fact, he hasn’t pushed for exclusive rights, either.”
Trina’s expression softened. “I guess the answer to my question is no. And you’re still nowhere near ready to make a decision between these two men, are you?”
Rebekah shook her head. “Must you always play the psychologist? Haven’t you ever seen one of those old romantic comedies with a love triangle? It makes for some intriguing complications, and everyone loves those movies. They’re classic. Romance and slapstick fun.” She frowned. What am I saying? Hadn’t she told Josh it wasn’t a love triangle?
“And do those terms with Adam still apply?”
“Yes, those terms still apply.” She sounded snippier than she intended. “I’m afraid Adam’s getting ready to ask me to marry him again. All the signs are starting to surface.” Slumping down on the bench, Rebekah lowered her head into her hands and groaned. “I don’t mean to lead either one of them on, and I love both of them but for different reasons. It’s just so hard.” Her fingers started to feel numb; she massaged them, wishing Kevin was beside her. He always sensed when she needed it. Adam, on the other hand, never noticed. Stop it! All these questions only prompted mental comparisons, and it wasn’t like she had to make a decision right this moment.
“I can just imagine.” Trina sat down beside her and put a comforting arm around her shoulders, pulling her close in a quick hug. “Having two gorgeous men vying for your affection must be a hardship and quite exhausting. I don’t know how you do it.” She lowered her voice and leaned close. “Is it really that hard a choice? They’re two very different men, after all.”
“Believe me, I know,” Rebekah mumbled. “It’s like my perfect man is the combination of them, and trust me, I know there’s no such thing as the ‘perfect’ man.”
“Do me a favor, and maybe yourself,” Trina said, “looks aside, tell me about them—a comparison, if you will.”
“I don’t know. Is that really fair?”
“It is if it helps you put it all in perspective.” Trina shrugged. “I thought it might help, but it’s up to you.”
“Okay, then, why not?” Rebekah took a quick breath. “Here goes. Adam studies the history of the places he takes me so he can be my own personal tour guide. He loves gourmet dining, and speaks four languages. He’s started a charity in London for orphans and widows, and he works with various programs for underprivileged kids on a regular basis. I love hearing how he’s trying to help others. Adam’s well-traveled, intelligent and he always dresses well. Prince William is a ‘mate’ and he gets invitations to fabulous balls by dukes and earls. He’s an aristocrat—not that I’m even sure what that means—but he gets the Royal Family Christmas card!” She ignored Trina’s smug expression. “He’s a man of quiet faith, but it’s there. You know how the British are more reserved. I’d never want for anything with Adam. But he’s much too ordered and doesn’t know the meaning of spontaneity. Everything has to be just so with him,” she said, slicing her hand through the air. “That drives me absolutely crazy!”
Trina sat, arms crossed, observing her with what must be her professional mask of neutrality. “I’m not saying a word. Now, tell me about Kevin.”
Rebekah sighed. This was good, talking through it. “Kevin’s content with the simple things of life. We take long walks, and he writes beautiful songs that come straight from his heart. He’s romantic without trying to be. Kevin works very hard at his dad’s lumber company, and he’s one of the most godly men I know. He amazes me with his knowledge of the Bible and teaches a Sunday school class for the teenage boys. I’ve seen him sit and read or play checkers with the folks at a senior citizens center for hours. When Kevin spends time with you, he invests himself in your life and lets you know you’re important. You come away a better person just for having spent time in his company.” She blew out a long, deep sigh. “Kevin’s bigg
est flaw? It’s taken him forever to move our relationship forward to this level. At the rate he’s going, I’ll be almost forty before anything significant happens, and I do want children.”
Trina leaned back, propping her elbows on the picnic table. It looked like she twisted her lips in an effort not to smile. “I see your point. They both sound wonderful. Not that you asked, but in my considered opinion, you need to try and convince the saint—I mean Kevin—to either get out a bit more or else persuade Professor Higgins—I mean Adam—to stay home on occasion.”
Rebekah shook her head. “What exactly would that prove?”
Trina’s smile was sympathetic. “Seems to me you need to choose which one your heart wants—and think about your priorities—and then let the rest work itself out. Maybe you’re still not ready to make a commitment to either one of them, and that’s why you can’t choose. Nothing wrong with that, either. Just be careful, sweetie. Someone’s bound to get hurt.” She patted her knee. “I just don’t want it to be you.”
“I know you’re right, and I hate the thought of hurting either one of them. I just feel unsettled. It’s hard to explain. I mean, I have everything I’ve ever wanted in my life, but it’s like there’s something missing. Whatever it is. Pray for me, Trina.” She shot her a sheepish look. “I suppose you think I’m a terribly ungrateful person.”
“Yeah,” Trina said, “you’re a real whiner. A huge pain.”
“There you are!” Kevin walked toward them, smiling. “Hey, Trina,” he said, dropping down beside her on the bench.
“Nice apron.” Rebekah nudged his shoulder. “I see Michael corralled you into helping with the crawfish boil.”
“Now he wants me to supervise the grilling of the kabobs. I just came over to grab some napkins and see how you’re doing.”
