Love Enough For Two (Love Inspired)

by Cynthia Rutledge

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Matt,” Sierra’s voice softened. “There’s no guy here with me. Just a little girl.”

  Matt breathed a sigh of relief, feeling foolish for even thinking she’d cheat on him. “Why didn’t you just tell me you were baby-sitting?”

  He wondered if some of the craziness in his head was because of the heavy-duty thinking he’d been doing lately. Though he’d tried to forget them, Sierra’s words about forgiveness had kept niggling at him. Until two nights ago when he’d finally broken down and prayed.

  He was amazed he knew how until he remembered that at one time prayers had been a regular part of his bedtime ritual.

  When his mother had left, his faith had gone with her. He’d hated her for walking away and he hated God for not stopping her. At the time he thought he’d never be able to forgive either one of them.

  Grace is something needed but not deserved.

  His mother said she wanted his forgiveness and a chance to start over. Though a tiny part of him wanted to say it was too late, Sierra’s words had stopped the easy answer.

  “Jan is in town,” he said.

  “Jan?”

  “My mother.”

  He’d recognized her voice immediately when he’d listened to his messages. Apparently she was staying at the Hotel Santa Barbara and wanted to get together. Calling Sierra had been his first thought.

  “Have you seen her?”

  “Not yet,” he said. “She says she wants to see me.”

  “I’m sure she does,” Sierra said softly. “How could anyone not miss you?”

  The tight ache in his chest intensified. “Let me come over.”

  It was as close as he’d ever come to begging, but he needed to talk to her.

  A moment of silence filled the line.

  “I’m not at the house,” she said. “But you can come over here if you want….”

  “What’s the address?” he asked, grabbing a pencil. He wrote down the street number and name and a few cursory directions. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  “You don’t need to rush,” she said. “I’ll be here.”

  Though it wasn’t that late now, Matt didn’t want to be interrupted by the untimely return of the parents. “When are they due home?

  “Who?”

  “The child’s parents.”

  “I’ll be here all night,” she said finally. “So, like I said, there’s no need to hurry.”

  The words were familiar. “There’s no rush,” his mother had said on the recorder. “Get back to me when you can.”

  Had the time come to make that call?

  Eighteen years ago Matt had turned his back on God. Still, God had been ready and willing to forgive him.

  Could he do any less for his own mother?

  The apartment where Sierra was baby-sitting was in a working-class area of Santa Barbara. Yard space was at a premium as was available parking. Matt finally found a spot on the street just down the block.

  He climbed the stairs to the second-story unit, made sure he had the right number and rapped lightly on the door.

  Though she was fully dressed in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, Sierra looked as if she was ready for bed. Her face had been scrubbed clean of makeup and her feet were bare.

  She opened the door wide and motioned him in.

  “We’re going to have to keep our voices down,” she said in a low tone. “So we don’t wake up the little one.”

  Impulsively Matt leaned over and brushed a kiss across her lips as he walked into the living room.

  Her cheeks turned a dusky pink. “What was that for?”

  Matt almost said, “because I love you,” but stopped himself just in time. He’d only recently realized the depth of his feelings and hadn’t yet shared that realization with her. Though he was almost positive she felt the same way, he wanted to be certain. “Because I’ve missed you.”

  The living room was neat and clean with a huge trunk of toys in one corner. A tiny kitchen was immediately adjacent to the room with a tiny eating area and breakfast bar.

  “Cute place,” Matt said, more for conversation’s sake than with any real admiration. He gazed at the sofa and chair and then at the kitchen table.

  Sierra moved to the sofa and plopped down. She patted a spot beside her. “Come and sit by me.”

  Matt didn’t wait for a second invitation and when he sat down beside her, his arm automatically moved around her shoulders.

  For a long moment he just sat there, reveling in the closeness. She smelled like cherries and he wondered if it was a new perfume or if she’d been making a pie.

  He had to smile at the thought of Stella Carlyle’s daughter making a pie. Or even baby-sitting. Sierra was just not what he’d expected.

  Instead of making conversation, she snuggled against him, so close he could feel her heart beating. He thought of all the times he’d held her close, all the times they’d kissed. All the times he’d pressured her to go further. Shame filled Matt.

  The past few weekends he and Sierra had attended church together. She hadn’t wanted to go to First Christian since Carl would be there, so they’d gone “church hopping.”

  It was during one of those Sunday mornings, sitting in the pew beside her and sharing a hymnal that he’d first realized he’d loved her. And with it came the knowledge that he didn’t want her for just a night, or a week, or a month, he wanted her with him forever. He wanted her to be his wife and the mother of his children.

  Matt realized he’d been wrong to pressure her to be intimate. If she’d given in to his demands, it would have shortchanged them both. He still wanted to make love to her but when they did, she would be his wife and it would be with God’s blessing…and with the blessings of their family.

  His father would be pleased. Matt couldn’t count the number of times he’d asked in the past few weeks, if he was still “involved” with Stella’s daughter. And, more than once he’d told Matt that he and “Elizabeth” would be a perfect match. He’d gathered from his father that Stella felt the same way.

  Matt agreed completely. He and Sierra were a match made in heaven.

  Though he’d vowed they’d just talk, her closeness stirred his senses. He turned and tilted her face up to his with a crooked finger. “Have I told you lately how much I enjoy your company?”

  She shook her head.

  “Well, I do,” he said. “Very much.”

  And, suddenly without any plan his lips were closing over hers and his arms were pulling her tight against him.

  But this time it was love that was behind the kisses, behind the tender caresses. He took his time kissing her with a leisurely thoroughness that left her breathless. Matt lifted his head slowly, feeling her lips cling to his. Her lashes lay against her skin in soft, sandy crescents for a moment before lifting to reveal a quivering uncertainty.

  “Matt, I—”

  Matt covered her mouth once more with his, stopping her words. He didn’t need her to tell him they wouldn’t be going any further tonight, because he’d already decided that, until they were married, kisses were as far as it went.

  Still, when he pulled away from her, a deep sigh of regret passed her lips and it gave him solace to know that holding the passion in check was as hard on her as it was on him.

  “I really did come here to talk,” he said.

  She smiled. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

  “It’s just something about sitting on a couch with a pretty girl that makes me feel sixteen again,” Matt said, only half joking. He eyed a nearby chair and wondered if he’d be wise to put some distance between them.

  She must have noticed the direction of his gaze because she rose with a fluid grace and moved to the chair.

  “Maybe this way we can actually talk,” she said.

  “Worried about me jumping on you?”

  “No,” she said with an impish smile. “I’m worried about me jumping on you.”

  He laughed out loud a
nd she shushed him, but he could hear the laughter bubbling up in her own throat.

  “Now, what did you want to talk about?”

  It was all he could do not to confess his love. Only the determination to have that moment be perfect stopped the words. Instead, he told her about his mother’s call and her desire to see him.

  They talked for over an hour about his fears and his lingering anger and by the time he left an hour later, Matt felt at peace.

  And, as he kissed her one last time at the door, he realized that just when he thought he couldn’t love her more, he did.

  “Sleep well, sweetheart,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Sierra watched him walk down the hall, only shutting the door when he disappeared from sight.

  Sleep well?

  Was he kidding?

  It’d be a miracle if she slept at all.

  “I’m going to tell him the minute he walks up,” Sierra told herself for the hundredth time that afternoon. Her mother was watching Maddie so there would be no interruptions.

  All day, she’d thought of nothing else but the confession. She had to be honest. This was no longer a silly, summer game where no one would get hurt.

  It went without saying that she was going to be hurt. She’d fallen for him. Hard. So, a broken heart was guaranteed.

  She suspected he cared for her, too. And the last thing she wanted was for him to be hurt. That’s why she had to come clean, before things went any further.

  What would he say when she told him? It was possible he would yell and scream the way Jerry used to when he got mad. Sierra dismissed that thought the minute it entered her head. Matt wasn’t like Jerry. He rarely even raised his voice.

  More than likely, he’d be cool and polite and distant. He’d probably act as though it didn’t matter at all. And then, he’d walk out the door and she’d never see him again.

  The thought sent a stab of pain straight through her heart and she realized that her mother had once again been right.

  She should never have dated a man she didn’t want to marry.

  Sierra practiced her confession in her head until she was confident she could say the words without stumbling over her tongue. But when she saw him walking up Libby’s sidewalk, her mouth went dry and all rational thoughts fled. Striding up the front steps was six feet of solidly muscled, incredibly good-looking male.

  She’d told him the Praise Festival was a casual affair and that most of the attendees would be wearing jeans or shorts. Her green-and-gold striped skirt with a sleeveless green-colored top was even probably a little dressy but the newly purchased outfit gave her shaky confidence a boost.

  But while she thought she looked quite presentable, Matt looked fabulous. The blue T-shirt emphasized the width of his shoulders and the taut flatness of his stomach. His jeans clung to his lean hips.

  Before she could say a word, he was on the porch, pulling her into his arms, his lips closing over hers.

  Her arms lifted of their own volition, wrapping around his neck. Her hand fisted as the kiss rushed toward searing. When at last she stepped back, Sierra found herself trembling.

  “Was that—” She paused and gave herself a minute to figure out what she was trying to say.

  “If you’re asking if that was the main course,” Matt said with a wink “it wasn’t. That was just an appetizer. I’m saving the best for later.”

  Later.

  The promise whirled in Sierra’s mind like an out-of-control top. Would it really be so wrong to wait until they’d gotten the main course out of the way to tell him? After all, why ruin what was promising to be a wonderful evening with the truth?

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Praise Festival reminded Matt of a cross between a carnival and an old-fashioned community picnic. The area along the sidewalk leading up to the wharf was lined with booths that featured everything from men in suits selling Bibles to clowns doing face painting.

  Matt clasped Sierra’s hand and they walked down the sidewalk. Though they hadn’t been together all that long, they’d quickly gotten to the point where they didn’t always need to talk.

  Sometimes it scared him how close they’d become. And other times he felt like laughing out loud with sheer joy. It was strange how things happened, he mused. He never would have believed he would be so content with one woman. Of course, at one time, he’d wondered if he’d ever fall in love.

  Matt slanted a sideways glance at Sierra. Her blond hair was drawn back from her face with a pair of gold clips and her teal cotton shirt brought out the color in her eyes. Her skirt was made of some soft fabric that clung gently to her before flaring out, exposing legs that went on forever.

  His mouth went dry just thinking about the surprise he’d planned for the end of the evening. The ring was in his pocket. All he could hope was that this festival wouldn’t last long. He couldn’t wait to tell her how he felt.

  He’d never known another woman who could make him so crazy. When he wasn’t with her, he thought about her. She was on his mind 24/7. Last night, when he’d thought she’d been with another man…

  A knot formed in the pit of his stomach, but he forced himself to relax. The attraction in this relationship wasn’t one-sided. He’d seen the way she’d looked at him tonight.

  “Isn’t that the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” Sierra’s voice held a wistful edge.

  Matt turned and followed the direction of her gaze. One of the booths was holding a raffle and the prize was displayed on a raised platform.

  He tilted his head and stared at the cherry wood box with fabric on top. “What is it?”

  “It’s a hope chest, silly. Come with me. I want to get a better look.” Sierra smiled and tugged on his hand.

  Matt followed behind her, unable to keep from smiling at her exuberance.

  “You can have a chance to win for only a dollar,” an old man with a raspy voice wheezed. “Looks like the young lady is quite smitten with it.”

  Matt gave the man a brief smile and followed Sierra to the hope chest. He tilted his head and stared at it. The box was a fine piece of workmanship, he’d give it that. “What’s it for?”

  “Hope chests go way back,” Sierra said. “Brides-to-be used them to store the linens and household goods they would use after they married.”

  Matt nodded. “A storage chest.”

  “In a way,” Sierra said. “But they’re more than that. My mother used to say hope chests were a place where you placed your hopes and dreams. And when you married, your husband would make them come true.”

  From what his father had told him about Stella Carlyle, Matt was having trouble reconciling a woman who divorced her last husband after only five months to the romantic Sierra was describing.

  “Do you have a hope chest?” Matt asked Sierra.

  Sierra laughed and shook her head. “I don’t believe that anyone can make my dreams come true. That is strictly up to me.”

  Though normally Matt would have solidly endorsed such an attitude, he found himself wanting to argue with her, to tell her that whatever her dreams, he would make them come true.

  “Still, it is beautiful.” Her gaze rested admiringly on the gleaming cherry wood even as her fingers caressed the finish.

  “Why don’t you buy a ticket?” Matt urged. “Maybe you’ll win.”

  Sierra chuckled. “I’m not that lucky,” she said with a self-deprecating smile. “Besides hope chests are for dreamers, for women who still believe happily-ever-after is possible.”

  Her smile faded and she turned away from the chest.

  Anger rose inside Matt at the man who’d hurt her so badly. Still, though Sierra might say she’d lost faith in happily-ever-after, Matt’s instincts told him she still wanted to believe.

  He placed an arm around her shoulder and gave it a little squeeze. “I see only good things in your future.”

  Sierra laughed. “And just what makes you such an expert?”

  “I’m psychi
c,” Matt said in a loud tone and Sierra promptly shushed him.

  “This is a Christian Praise Festival,” Sierra reminded him. “No psychics allowed.”

  “That’s too bad,” Matt murmured. “Because I’d just had a vision about what was going to happen when we return to my place. And, it’s really good.”

  A spark of interest flared in her green eyes. “Tell me.”

  “Can’t.” Matt shook his head, keeping his face serious. “This is a Christian Praise Festival, remember? No psychics allowed.”

  “I won’t tell anyone,” she teased

  “Nope,” he said. “You have to wait until later.”

  Sierra’s smile dimmed.

  Of course, there wasn’t one ounce of psychic ability flowing through Matt’s veins. Unless, of course, you counted the sudden premonition he had that something was bothering her.

  “Is anything wrong?” He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her to him. With one finger, Matt tipped her face up to his, wishing they weren’t surrounded by onlookers so he could kiss her troubles away.

  “I’m fine,” she said, offering him a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes. “Just a little tired.”

  “I saw some cotton candy up ahead,” he said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out several bills. “Why don’t you go buy us some instant energy?”

  She took the money from his fingers, but stared up at him with a puzzled frown. “Where are you going to be?”

  Matt gestured with his head to a large group of men standing talking on the other side of the walk-way. “I saw someone I know and I thought I’d pop over and say a quick hello. Won’t take but a second.”

  “Okay.” To his surprise, Sierra rose on her tiptoes and brushed a quick kiss on his cheek. “Don’t be long.”

  “You’ve got a pretty wife there, mister,” the old man said, watching Sierra’s hips sway gently from side to side as she walked away. “Real pretty.”

  Matt didn’t correct the man’s mistaken impression. Instead he pulled out his wallet, peeled off a hundred dollar bill and handed it to the old man. “I’ll take one hundred tickets.”