Love So Divine: A Contemporary Christian Romance (Wondrous Love Series, Book 2)

by JoAnn Durgin

  Chase’s jaw tightened. “Be respectful of the lady. You’ve got two minors somewhere on the premises, and we’ve come to haul them both home.”

  “Yeah, right.” The man snorted and waved his hand. “Not my business.”

  “I disagree.” Chase’s tone was unyielding.

  The man’s eyes narrowed. “You a cop?”

  “No. Are you the owner of this…establishment?”

  Well-timed pause, Chase.

  “Who’s askin’?”

  “I am. I suggest you answer.” Chase crossed his arms on the counter and stared down the man. Hard-nosed Chase had emerged. The tough talking pastor fighting for the kids in his youth group.

  “I don’t have to tell you nothin’.” The man mumbled an obscenity. “I’ll ask you to leave my place of business now. I’m not gonna ask twice.” With that, he turned away.

  Chase reached out and grabbed his arm, but only enough to catch the man’s attention before he released his hold.

  “You do that again, and I’ll get someone in here faster than you can count to ten.” The motel clerk’s words came out as a snarl. “I don’t think your lady friend here would want to see that pretty boy mug of yours roughed up.”

  “Trevon Andrews.” Chase didn’t flinch. “I doubt he used his real name. Young, light-skinned black male. Medium height. Athletic. Dreadlocks down past his shoulders. He has a teenage girl with him—white with long, straight black hair. Tall and thin. Do you have any guests who fit that description here tonight? They would have checked in sometime in the last hour.”

  The man glared at him. “Don’t know if I do or not.”

  “Unless you’ve got a really bad short-term memory, you should remember.”

  “Buddy, I already told you. You’re not gettin’ anything out of me.”

  “Fine. Have it your way.” Chase pulled out his phone. “I’m sure you’d be more comfortable talking with the police.”

  “Now, hang on a blame minute.” The man raised one hand. “You’re bluffin’.”

  Chase paused with the phone in one hand, his index finger poised above it. He lifted a brow. “Speed dial. Try me, buddy.”

  Way to play hardball, Chase.

  The man’s bloodshot eyes grew wide and he grunted. “Okay, okay. I think I remember them kids. You can try Room 24. You didn’t get that information from me. I don’t want no trouble.” He mumbled another obscenity under his breath.

  “Of course not. You have a good night.” Chase yanked open the door and the annoying buzzer sounded again.

  Heather scooted out the door ahead of Chase and blew out a sigh of relief as they walked in the direction of the guest rooms. “Chase, that was awesome!” She kept her voice low. “I wouldn’t have been surprised if you’d pulled out a New Testament and thrown it on the counter beside that disgusting, half-eaten sandwich.”

  “I’ve learned to focus my attention on one battle at a time. The world wasn’t created in a day. Same theory.”

  “True,” Heather said. “Based on what I saw in there, you could be a police officer.”

  “I considered it for a while.” She appreciated how Chase slowed his stride to match hers.

  “What changed your mind?”

  “The answer to that question can’t be answered in the next thirty seconds. The short answer is that God put it on my heart to serve Him by working with young people in ministry. I’m sorry you had to hear that foul language back there.”

  “Oh, I’ve heard those words before. Plenty of times. You might be surprised what ballet dancers can spew when they’re frustrated. Or tired. Or feel like they’ve given a bad performance.”

  “I’m sure you’ve never given a bad performance.”

  “I don’t curse if that’s what you’re asking.”

  He stopped walking. “I’m not testing you, Heather. See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. Women seem to think they can’t be themselves around me.”

  Heather opened her arms. “Well, what you see is pretty much what you get with me. If you stick around, you’ll discover that I usually say the first thing that pops into my head when I really should take a few seconds to think about how it sounds.”

  “I plan on sticking around and—from what I’ve seen—I admire your honesty. Too many people hide behind fake smiles and don’t let others see their real emotions.”

  She started walking again and he fell into step beside her. As they headed toward Room 24, Heather slowed her steps. “Should we maybe pray first?”

  “Good idea. Let’s find a place where we can still see the door.” Tugging on her hand, Chase led her beneath a covered breezeway with an ice dispenser. A handwritten Out of Order note hung cockeyed on the front of a soda machine.

  Facing her, Chase reached for Heather’s other hand. “Do you want to pray or should I?”

  “How about I’ll start and you finish?” she suggested. “No worries. I’ll keep it short.”

  “That’s fine, but I’m going to keep one eye open.”

  “Understandable.” Heather took comfort from the warmth of Chase’s hands although he distracted her by running his thumb back and forth over the top of her right hand. He probably didn’t even realize he was doing it. Normally she wore her gloves. Tonight, for whatever reason—providence, perhaps—she’d left them in her Jeep back at the church.

  They bowed their heads and she began. “Father, we don’t know what to expect, but thank you for giving us the information we needed to find Trevon and his girlfriend. Guide Chase and give him the right words to somehow get through to these kids. Keep us all safe, and I pray we can get them safely home.”

  “Thank you for Heather’s willingness to come along tonight,” Chase prayed after she finished. “I appreciate her friendship and kind heart for these kids. We don’t know what waits for us in that motel room, but you do. We give the situation over to you and ask that your will be done. To your honor and glory. We ask these things in the name of your Son.”

  “Amen,” Heather murmured. Feeling the urge to give him a hug, she wrapped her arms around him. He felt so warm, so good. “No matter what happens, Chase, it’ll be okay.”

  “Thanks.”

  With a display of confidence she didn’t feel, Heather pulled out of the hug and saluted him. “Onward and forward.” She started in the direction of Room 24.

  Chase jogged behind her and then moved ahead. In one smooth motion, he swept her into his strong arms.

  “What are you doing?” Heather laughed a little, mostly from frayed nerves. “Are we going to reprise our dance right here?” Planting both hands on his chest, she looked up at him in wonder.

  Before she could blink, Chase bent his head and pressed his lips to hers. This kiss was no gentle peck but firm and sure. Enough to confirm they shared an uncommonly strong chemistry. Heather was thankful he didn’t get carried away considering they were standing in the dimly lit parking lot of a seedy downtown motel.

  Chase had done it again—he’d utterly and completely stolen her breath.

  “Thank you,” he murmured. “This lip”—he brushed his thumb over her lower lip—“has tempted me all day. We’d better keep moving.”

  “Hang on just a second.” Heather touched the sleeve of his coat when he turned. “Want to tell me what that was all about?”

  The corners of his mouth hitched upward. “Do you want the scientific explanation or the purely selfish one?”

  “Whichever explanation might make more sense right now.” She made a lame attempt to contain her grin, but it emerged, anyway. She was too dazed from that kiss to think. That unbelievable kiss.

  “Let’s go with scientific,” he said. “Kissing gets the endorphins going and the adrenaline pumping. I needed that extra burst of energy right now.”

  “Well, I’m glad I could oblige your need. If my lips hadn’t been conveniently available, what would you have done?”

  Chase grinned. “I don’t go around kissing strangers if that’s what you mean. N
ot that you’re a stranger. Are you mad that I kissed you?”

  “No. It was…very nice.” She cleared her throat. “If you’re trying to prove you’re a different breed of pastor, you succeeded. And then some. I had no idea pastors could kiss like that.”

  He laughed quietly. “Believe it or not, pastors can do most of the same things mortals can. I didn’t plan on kissing you, but I figured why not? And it was way better than nice. I know I feel better now, and I hope you do, too. Come on. Let’s go corral the two lovebirds.”

  “You’re very sure of yourself, aren’t you?” Heather hurried beside him.

  “Again, it depends on the subject.”

  With Chase, his self-assurance didn’t stem from arrogance. That made all the difference in the world and distinguished him from other guys. Made him stand even taller in her eyes.

  “I take it back,” he said as they walked closer to the room.

  What was he talking about now? “The kiss? If so, you sure know how to deflate my ego.”

  “Definitely not the kiss. The part about wanting to kiss you all day.”

  Heather released a small groan. “Are you purposely trying to drive me crazy?”

  He chuckled. “No. What I should have said is that I’ve wanted to kiss you almost from the first moment we met.”

  “Oh.” That observation was almost as unexpected as the kiss. “You have a way of dropping pithy romantic statements, don’t you? Not that I don’t appreciate them, but your timing could be a little better.”

  “You’re right. Timing has never been one of my strengths. Ditto patience.” Chase stopped in front of the Room 24. “Here we go. God be with us.” He reached for her hand again, and she gave it to him willingly.

  Heather squared her shoulders and squeezed his hand. “Amen to that.”

  Chapter 8

  ~~♥~~

  At Chase’s request, Heather stood slightly behind him as he knocked on the door. No answer. He waited a few seconds and then knocked again.

  “Go away!” a male voice called from inside.

  “Trevon, it’s Chase Landers from the church. I’m not going anywhere.” Chase knocked once more. Paused. Knocked again, this time louder and more insistent. “Might as well open up. I’ll just keep knocking.”

  Lord, please let this go well. Heather prayed Trevon wouldn’t come to the door wielding a gun. Part of her wanted to run, but that would only prove her gutless. Besides, it wasn’t like she could leave now. No, she was in this up to her knee-high boots.

  A teenage boy in low-slung jeans and no shirt—otherwise exactly as Chase had described him—jerked open the door. Lounging against it, he crossed his beefy arms. A serpent, dragon, and anime-style characters danced over both arms and down the left side of his muscular chest.

  “Well, if it ain’t the righteous preacher dude. To what do we owe the honor of this visit?”

  “I’d like to talk with you.” When Chase gestured for her, Heather stepped forward. “This is my friend, Heather. Be respectful.”

  “It ain’t exactly visiting hours, man. As you can see, we’re kinda busy here.”

  “This isn’t a social call. You opened the door and now you’re going to invite us inside.” His voice firm, Chase wasn’t taking no for an answer.

  “Whatever. Be my guest.” Heather tried to hide her surprise as the boy stood aside for them to enter the motel room.

  Pressing his hand on the small of Heather’s back, Chase guided her inside. Her eyes widened as she spied a pretty teenage girl sprawled on the bed, stripped down to her skimpy undergarments, her long, dark hair feathered across a pillow.

  When they entered the room, the girl climbed beneath the sheet. Good thing or Heather would have thrown the comforter over her.

  Trevon pushed the door closed behind them. His dark eyes challenged Chase and then moved to Heather as he lowered his hands to his hips, further endangering those pants. The kid’s impudent gaze raked her from head to toe. Heather refused to squirm and give him the satisfaction of knowing he made her uncomfortable. He didn’t seem threatening, but she could do without the leering.

  “A fine lookin’ woman like this, seems to me you’d have better things to be doin’ with your time than runnin’ around Indy lookin’ for me and Rachelle on Valentine’s Day.”

  “Watch your manners, Trevon,” Chase warned.

  “Whatever, man.” Taking a few steps backward, Trevon dropped onto the end of the bed. “Even God approves of a man and woman gettin’ together, right? Isn’t this a day to show your special girl you love her?” Leaning back on the bed, propped on his elbows, Trevon winked at Heather. “I can see this one’s real special.”

  Heather dropped her gaze from the boy’s invasive scrutiny. This scenario wasn’t true love, and Trevon was making a mockery of it. From one extreme to the other in the course of a few hours.

  “Totally different context, man,” Chase said. “We need to talk, but go put on your shirt and then pull up those baggy pants so you don’t show us your shortcomings.”

  Heather turned her head and bit her lower lip. Chase’s wry humor emerged in interesting ways and at unexpected times. She hoped Trevon wouldn’t take offense and come at Chase with his fists flying.

  Trevon’s jaw dropped. “I’ll be right back.” He slowly rose from the bed and glanced back at Rachelle, who looked like she wanted to be anywhere else at the moment. “Don’t you worry, baby. This guy’s harmless.”

  Heather stepped closer to the side of the bed. “May I sit down?”

  Rachelle’s eyes grew wide. “I guess,” she murmured.

  Heather seated herself on the edge of the mattress. “May I ask how old you are?”

  “Fifteen.”

  Heather sucked in a quick breath. Such a baby.

  “I’m not a kid anymore.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re a teenager with overactive hormones. I’ve been there. I understand.”

  “Sure you do.” The girl’s frown deepened.

  “I’m no angel, and I’ve had my share of boyfriends,” Heather said. “But I’ve never let any guy disrespect me.”

  Her comment was met with silence. From the corner of her eye, Heather saw Chase take the only chair in the sparsely furnished room. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his thighs. He appeared deep in thought, but she sensed he was listening.

  “Your body’s not separate from your heart, Rachelle, no matter what you tell yourself. They’re intimately connected, especially for a woman.”

  “Give me a break. Sometimes you just wanna do what feels good, you know? It doesn’t have to be a big deal.” Rachelle pushed up in the bed, taking the sheet with her. Leaning against the headboard, she closed her eyes.

  “Sure, you can do that,” Heather said, measuring her words carefully. “Physical pleasure doesn’t last long. If you don’t have the emotional connection between you, it won’t mean anything in the long term. It’s just using each other for a few minutes of what? Something that could give you a child, or possibly a disease.” She hadn’t planned on saying anything, but the Lord had left the door wide open.

  Rachelle’s eyes fluttered open and she started to protest, but she quieted when Heather continued. “I’m not implying anything. But before you put yourself at risk, I hope you’ll ask yourself some important questions, and really think about what you’re doing.”

  “You two are full of it, you know that?”

  Heather twisted on the bed. She hadn’t heard Trevon come back into the room. He stood nearby, his eyes hard and both hands once again parked on his hips.

  Chase lifted from the chair and strolled across the room. “You’re right. We’re full of it, but it’s called God’s grace and forgiveness.”

  Trevon waved his hand. “Don’t give me all that God and Jesus cr—stuff,” he said. “Guess I shouldn’t cuss around the holy ones, huh?”

  “You think I’m holy?” Heather said. “If you think I’m perfect in any sense of the word, then you’re wr
ong.”

  “Yeah, right.” Trevon snorted, turning to her. “You look like you ain’t never hurt for nothin’ in your life. And you sure as anything ain’t hurtin’ in the looks department.”

  Heather directed a pointed glance at Chase when he started to speak. Closing his mouth, he gave her a slight nod.

  “It’s not always easy on the other side of the fence,” she said.

  Both kids looked at her like she had two heads. Okay, maybe she needed to stop with the clichés and be straight with them.

  “My family is rich but money solves nothing. I grew up in a big house with marble floors, a cook, and I was an only child with a nanny.” Heather resolved to keep going in spite of the deepening scowl on the teenage boy’s face. “Want to know something? Those things didn’t give me what I wanted most.”

  “What did you want?” That question came from Rachelle.

  Heather moved away from the bed and turned to face the others in the small room. “What all of us want, deep down inside. Love. I mean, sure, my parents loved me in their own way. But they were gone almost every night. With money comes privilege and with privilege comes responsibility. They were expected to attend every benefit and donate money to every cause. My mom was—and still is—a beautiful woman with perfect hair and makeup who breezed into the kitchen and wished me good morning, kissed me on the cheek, and called me darling. She wore gorgeous gowns that cost more money than most cars. But she never fixed me toast or cereal for breakfast. Never took me to the park to play. I can count on one hand the number of times she read a bedtime story to me, visited my school, or kissed my boo-boos. She rarely disciplined me and left that responsibility, like everything else, to others. Believe it or not, sometimes I wished that she’d yell at me every now and then.”

  Trevon snorted. “Let me get out my violin, princess. I’m supposed to feel sorry for the poor little rich girl?”

  “I don’t want your pity.” Heather swallowed. “I overheard my father tell my mom one night that he didn’t want her to say much at some fancy benefit because she, um, hadn’t had as much education as most of the people who’d be there.” She turned her head and wiped away a tear. “He was afraid she would embarrass him.”