Wedding Song in Lexington, Kentucky

by Jennifer Johnson

  “Didn’t look like you caused it.”

  “Oh, I did.”

  Megan cocked her head, and Justin grew more ill at ease at her scrutiny. He wanted to explain himself to her. He needed to be honest with her. For her to know the truth—the whole truth— and still accept him.

  “So Megan, who’s your friend?”

  Justin looked at the owner of the masculine voice. Up close, the pastor looked even younger than he had at the pulpit. He might even be in his twenties.

  Megan pointed to Justin. “This is one of my bosses, Justin Frasure.”

  Justin accepted the pastor’s extended hand. She motioned to the minister. “Justin, this is Pastor Wes.”

  “It’s good to meet you.”

  “You, too. We’re glad to have you here this morning. In fact, we’ve got some church baseball practice later this afternoon. Could use a few more members. You interested?”

  “I’m actually already planning to be there. Kat told me about it at Bible study Thursday night.”

  Pastor Wes smiled. “Terrific.” A young woman grabbed his arm, grinned at Megan and Justin, then pulled the pastor away.

  Megan chuckled. “That’s his wife. She probably needs help with their twins.”

  Justin looked at her. He needed someone to talk to. To tell him the church wouldn’t spontaneously combust because he’d attended a service. “Would you be willing to have lunch with me?”

  Megan’s eyebrows rose, and she took a step back. “Well, I …”

  “I could really use someone to talk to.” He clasped his hands. “If you’re not busy.”

  Megan adjusted the Bible and other materials in her arms. She didn’t answer right away, and Justin wished he could take back the invitation. She looked down then nodded just a bit. “Okay.”

  He held up his keys. “I can drive and then bring you back to the church.”

  Megan shook her head. “No. I’ll drive myself. Where would you like to go?”

  They decided on a restaurant, and Justin followed her to the parking lot. He had no idea why he’d invited her to lunch. She was probably the last person he needed to talk to. He didn’t spill his guts on a regular basis. Until recently he didn’t have guts to spill. He’d spent his life not caring about people or how they felt.

  Now he’d invited Megan, his secretary, to have lunch with him so he could talk with her. She’d just shown up too soon after the confrontation with Amy’s husband. He didn’t need to share anything with Megan. He’d just take her to lunch, and he’d see her the following day at work. One lunch. No problem.

  Chapter 8

  Stolen kisses are always sweetest.

  LEIGH HUNT

  Megan squirted a dollop of hand sanitizer into her palm, rubbed her hands together, then dropped the bottle back into her purse. She placed her purse on the booth close to the window. She glanced to the front of the restaurant where Justin had taken their flashing pager. He placed it in the basket then collected the two trays containing their individual size pizzas and chopped salads.

  They’d chosen to eat at one of her favorite places. Not only did she love the “smashed” tomato sauce on their pizzas and the homemade vinaigrette dressing on their salads, but she also adored the atmosphere of the place. On one side, a brick wall was painted green and trimmed in red. Videos of Italy scrolled across a large-screen television. Large windows covered two walls, allowing for natural light. The kitchen area was open, and she could watch as the cooks placed pizzas in the oven set over 800 degrees. They served real Italian pizza, and she loved it.

  Justin arrived at the booth and placed the trays on the table. He smiled as he slid into the seat across from her. Man, the guy was entirely too good-looking. And that melon polo looked amazing against his naturally dark skin. She felt like the ugly duckling sitting across from him. But having already reached adulthood, she felt fairly confident she wouldn’t be changing into a swan anytime soon.

  He extended his arms across the table and opened his hands. “May I pray?”

  Nervous about touching her boss, just the two of them, at lunch, in which he insisted on paying, she rubbed her thumbs against her fingertips beneath the table. Her nerves were ridiculous. She lifted her hands and placed them in his. “Of course.”

  She bowed her head and listened to his petition to God. His heartfelt words and humble offerings to her Savior melted away any uncertainty she had about lunch with him. She knew what happened between him and Amy. The whole church knew.

  Timmy had confessed all his sins in a couples’ Bible study he’d agreed to attend with Amy. The only problem was he’d confessed all hers as well. She didn’t know Amy well, but she knew enough about her to know she was a private woman with a very sensitive spirit. Megan couldn’t imagine she’d have wanted her failures to be publicized. Megan sure didn’t.

  When he finished the prayer, Megan opened her eyes and looked at Justin. He was a changed man. A lot different than he had been when she first started working in his office. For a moment, she wondered if Clint would have been different if he’d accepted the Lord.

  The thought sickened her, and she wrinkled her nose and swallowed back the bad taste in her mouth. That guy was vile. Treacherous. Deceitful. Manipulative. The pressure of his knee against her leg washed over her anew. She touched the spot as her body trembled, and she forced the memory from her mind.

  “You okay?”

  Megan straightened in the seat and lifted her chin. “Mm-hmm.” She pierced her fork through the salad then shoved a bite into her mouth. She nodded, hoping he’d erase the concerned expression from his face. She swallowed and pointed her fork at the dish. “My favorite salad in the world.”

  Justin took the bait. “I like it, too.”

  She wiped her mouth with the napkin. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

  Justin pushed his fork through the salad. He seemed hesitant, uncertain. She’d never witnessed those qualities in him before. She hoped he didn’t want to talk about Amy. It wasn’t any of her business, and it wasn’t as if he needed to clear the air between them so they could build a relationship together. She had no inclinations for a relationship, and most especially with a man who’d studied as many women as he had law books. Even if he had changed.

  He looked up at her, and her stomach fluttered at the intensity of his gaze. “You have a beautiful voice, Megan.”

  She hadn’t expected him to say that. She cleared her throat. “Thank you.”

  He leaned back in the booth. “That song was like a wave of peace, like a …” He crinkled the napkin in his hand. “I’m not good with pretty language. More of a law guy, you know.”

  He winked at her, and her heart dropped to her ankles. Inwardly she picked it up, shoved the organ back in place, and hammered some boards around it. There was no way she’d allow this man’s words to get to her.

  He continued, “It was what I needed to hear. God’s forgiven me. Just like the song says. I’m restored, and I need to move on from this place. Forgive myself and move on.”

  Megan didn’t know what to say. She watched as he looked down at his plate. He picked up the knife and cut off a piece of his pizza. She noticed his hand trembled. Not much. No one would notice unless the person was studying him.

  But Justin Frasure did not tremble. He was strength and certainty. He was the spider who seduced the fly.

  He glanced back up at her. “I’m not the same person I once was. Do you believe that?”

  Megan swallowed. It was almost as if he asked for her forgiveness. But he’d done nothing to her. He didn’t need her approval, and she couldn’t give it. It wasn’t her place. Her heart was untouched by him, and it would stay that way.

  His dark brown eyes searched hers. They reminded her of a puppy begging his owner for a pat on the head or a rub on the belly. She couldn’t simply not answer him. Sucking in a deep breath, she determined to state the facts of what she’d seen in him. Facts only. No feelings. The heart had a way of being deceit
ful, and she wouldn’t be tricked by it again. She nodded. “I have seen a change in you.”

  Relief washed his features. “I’m so glad. I’ve worked so hard.”

  Megan lifted her hand and shook her head. “Justin, it’s not about your work. You can work as hard as you want. God does the changing.”

  Her words pricked her spirit. Her sister’s comment about it being time to move on from the hurt eight years before flooded her mind. Megan had worked hard to build the walls, layers of them, around her heart. She loved her sister, her friends, and the kids she worked with in church. Once she became a teacher, she knew she’d adore those children just as much. But her parents, her old boyfriend—even though he was dead—and any man who’d dared to look at her since, she’d pushed away, placing an invisible barrier between herself and them.

  She was safe that way. She’d put in a lot of work building her safe haven. She hadn’t allowed God any changing.

  Emotions warred within her. She couldn’t stay here with Justin. Couldn’t sit here and give him advice she’d only just realized she wasn’t heeding. But she couldn’t forgive. Surely God wouldn’t require it of her. Some things were too sacred, too pure.

  Clint didn’t deserve it. He didn’t even need it. He was dead. Her parents didn’t want it. They didn’t care. Didn’t even know they needed to be forgiven. They still blamed her.

  She thought of her Christ, who was punched and mocked and placed on a cross for the world to see. And He’d done nothing wrong. He’d loved. He’d served. He’d come to save. And they had killed Him.

  And He forgave.

  But why did He do it? They were unworthy. He’d hung on that cross because of her sins as well. She was unworthy. She didn’t deserve salvation, but Jesus had given it to her.

  And she was to be like Him. God commanded it. But how? She loved the Lord, read her Bible, served in His church. She’d forgiven the guy who’d rear-ended the car she’d driven off the lot only one day before. She’d forgiven Marianna more times than she could count for taking long showers and leaving her with cold water. She’d forgiven the woman who’d neglected to pay her for her son’s piano lessons before they moved to another state. She’d forgiven many people for various reasons over the years since she’d become a Christian.

  But Clint and her parents. It was too hard, and they weren’t sorry.

  Visions of a movie she’d watched about Jesus’s crucifixion streamed through her mind. Soldiers wagering for Christ’s clothes. Mocking Him with looks, laughs, and even blows. And Jesus forgave them.

  Open her heart to everyone. That’s what God wanted her to do. To be a vessel He could use. To be willing to be hurt. To love unconditionally.

  She smacked her napkin atop the table. Fine, Lord. You win. I forgive everyone, and I’m moving on with my life.

  She stood and walked over to Justin. Without a word, she leaned over, grabbed his cheeks in both her hands, and pressed her lips against his.

  Shaven, his cheeks were soft against her fingertips, but not as soft as his lips. His mouth was perfect. Inviting. Delicious. An arrow of pleasure shot through her, and she deepened the kiss.

  Realization of her actions punched her gut, and she opened her eyes. His were closed, and he seemed to enjoy her touch as much as she did his. Her brain jolted, and she jumped away from him as if he were the 800-degree oven at the other end of the restaurant. She pressed her hands against her lips. Heat washed over her, and she shook her head. He was a man. He was a womanizer. He was her boss. “Mr. Frasure.”

  “Megan.” Though surprise still filled his expression, he didn’t seem upset she’d flung herself at him. He reached for her hand.

  She brushed him away. “Mr. Frasure, I am so sorry.”

  Before he could respond, she raced out of the restaurant. Shoving her hand in the bottom of her purse, she rummaged for her keys. “How hard can they possibly be to find? I have a big pink monogrammed key chain attached to them, for crying out loud.”

  She yanked out the key chain as she reached the car. Her hands trembled when she tried to stick the key in the lock.

  “Miss Megan.”

  Megan jumped and squealed at the sound of her name. She placed her hand on her chest and looked at Stephanie and her mom. She forced a smile to her lips. Lips that still felt the pressure of Justin’s against them. “Hi, Stephanie. How are you?”

  Her voice was too high. Even to her own ears.

  Stephanie tapped the side of her face with her palm. Something she did when she felt nervous or unsure of a situation. “Are you okay, Miss Megan?”

  Megan let out a breath and forced her nerves to calm. “I’m fine, Stephanie. May I have a hug?”

  Stephanie smiled, and she wrapped her arms around Megan. Hugs always worked with the autistic child. For her, they affirmed everything was okay. Megan waved as Stephanie and her mother walked to the department store beside the Italian restaurant.

  She turned back to her car. Justin stood in front of it. Heat rose up her neck and cheeks again. She hadn’t even seen him leave the restaurant. He stepped closer to her. “Megan.”

  She looked to the heavens as she opened the car door. “Please, Mr. Frasure.”

  “Do not call me Mr. Frasure.”

  She looked at him, noting the hurt in his eyes that she addressed him formally. She dipped her head. “Justin.”

  “We can talk about this.”

  Her strength returned as she shook her head and looked back up at him. “No. I promise there is nothing to talk about. I have no idea why I did it. I don’t just go up to men and kiss them. I don’t even date.”

  He drew his eyebrows together. “What do you mean you don’t date?”

  “Just what I said. I don’t date. Period. Ever. I haven’t in eight years. I don’t plan to ever again. I apologize for my actions. That was not like me.”

  He placed his hand against his chest. “I’m not offended, Megan. You don’t owe me an apology.”

  “I don’t want to date you.”

  “Did I ask you to date me?”

  Megan shook her head. “No. Of course not. I’m the one who—I shouldn’t have. I don’t know why I did it. I don’t …”

  He lifted his hands in surrender. “Okay. I get it.”

  “I don’t want to give you the wrong impression.”

  “‘Kay.” He smacked his hand against his thigh. “You don’t like me. I get it.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr …”

  He glared at her, and she cleared her throat. “Justin.” His name slid through her teeth with a mixture of frustration and pleasure.

  He nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”

  She slid into the car and turned the ignition. She felt his eyes on her even as she pulled out of the parking lot. God, what in the world possessed me to do that? You’re talking to me about forgiving people, and I jump up and kiss Justin?

  She drove toward the apartment. She was one mixed-up, crazy woman—that’s what she was. The memory of his lips against hers still niggled at her mouth. It was the first kiss in eight years, and she couldn’t believe how delicious it had been. So different than the one years ago.

  The one before it had been insulting and suffocating and too-often haunting. She hadn’t realized until moments before a kiss didn’t have to be that way.

  She didn’t want to think about it. She couldn’t think about it. Not only was she not going to get involved with a man, but she most certainly would not get involved with a man who’d dated more women in Lexington than lived in her small hometown. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but the truth was Justin Frasure was an experienced man.

  Even if he had changed.

  Megan pulled into her driveway. She had other things to think about. Like getting the children’s church lessons ready for the evening service. She still needed to run by the grocery and pick up snacks and drinks for the kids.

  She also needed to look at her closet. She needed to find the least attractive thing she o
wned and press it to wear to work tomorrow. She wasn’t glamorous and gorgeous like the women who’d strolled through the law office doors many times before. Still, she had no intention of leading the youngest lawyer at the firm to believe she was dolling up for him. Justin Frasure was the last thing she wanted.

  Chapter 9

  We can decide to let our trials crush us, or we can convert them to new forces of good.

  HELEN KELLER

  Megan tied the oversized red bow around the back of the waist of the bridesmaid dress. She dropped her hands to her sides and twisted left to right in front of the full-length mirror to drink in her reflection.

  The design was adorable. The strapless sweetheart cut enhanced her chest and cinched in her waist. The slight flair of the skirt stopped just above her knees, a length that accentuated her muscular calves. If only the dress weren’t yellow and she didn’t have a smattering of freckles covering her shoulders.

  Marianna assured her she would be able to get a tan before the wedding. But first of all, Megan worked every day until five. Her chances of getting in the sun were limited to weekends. And second, she flat-out refused to go to tanning beds. She was scared to death of them.

  Once, as a teenager, she’d ventured to Forever Tans in their small hometown. She’d paid for just one visit. Donned the sunscreen and her bikini. Reclined on the bed and placed the eye protection goggles over her lids. Took a deep breath and pulled the top of the bed halfway over her body. The bulbs turned on, and she’d practically jumped out of her skin. She’d reached for the handle on the lid and realized it had closed on top of her. She pushed the thing off and jumped out. It was like lying in a cooking coffin. A tan wasn’t worth it. She’d put her clothes back on, walked out, and hadn’t gone back.

  She peered at her reflection in the mirror. No. She’d probably look just like this when it came time to walk down the aisle ahead of her sister.