Love Inspired November 2013 #2 (29 page)

His brows dipped, and he looked as though he were holding back a laugh. “I appreciate the offer,” he said, “but to be completely honest, I think I have already been out with every single lady that visited the store this week.”

That wasn't what she expected. “You have?”

He set that laugh free. “Don't sound so surprised.”

“No, I didn't mean it like that,” she said, then frowned. How did she mean it? “Well, then, why aren't you dating any of them, like, seriously?”

“Because I haven't felt
seriously
about any of them,” he said, as though this conversation had run its course.

Laura didn't think it had. “But you like dating one person. You liked being serious,” she said, recalling how committed he was to his girlfriend in college. “You dated Cassadee nearly two years when we were at UT.” Then Laura recalled the reason they'd broken up. David had returned home to Claremont for Mia's funeral, started thinking about life and religion and all of the other things that come to mind after the loss of a loved one, and then he decided he had messed up by letting his faith go in college. “You two broke up because she didn't share your faith.” She glanced up at him. “Is that why you haven't gotten serious with the girls you've dated here? Because they don't share your faith?”

“I only went out with the ones that do share my faith,” he said, “but the truth is, I didn't feel ‘that way' about them. Sharing faith is important to me, but you need...” He appeared to search for the word and then said, “You need more.”

Laura knew what “more” he referred to. Attraction, that spark that simply happens when two people are together and know that they could have something special.
That
was what he meant. And unfortunately, Laura was pretty sure
that
was exactly what she was beginning to feel. But fortunately, the other statement he made reminded her that even if she did want any type of relationship, it would never happen with David.

I only went out with the ones that do share my faith.

And that eliminated Laura from any equation involving David. Twice he'd asked her if she wanted to join him at church, and twice she'd declined. And he'd already invited her to tomorrow night's midweek worship, and already, she'd declined. Not necessarily because she didn't share his faith, but because she still wasn't certain she'd be welcomed there. She'd been able to handle the lunch last Sunday with Mandy's friends, but she still felt like too much of a hypocrite to go and mingle with the real Christians full-time.

Laura realized she'd been sitting silently while he waited for her next question. And she felt a little badly for the bold interrogation regarding his dating habits. “Sorry, I was being nosy.”

“Sometimes that's what friends do, right?” He leaned against the bookshelves and looked mighty nice doing it. “We are still friends, aren't we, Laura? Or...are we something else?” His eyes were so focused on her hers that Laura felt her breath catch. And she noticed that they weren't merely brown; they were chocolate. With tiny gold flecks near the center. They were exquisite, and she found that she couldn't stop looking at them. “Laura?” he prodded.

She didn't want a relationship. She didn't. She'd made a conscious decision that she wouldn't pursue anyone, or allow anyone to pursue her, which, of course, David wasn't doing. At all. So she should be happy, ecstatic even. Why had she even brought up this whole “why aren't you dating?” thing? And why had she gotten so jealous when she saw him talking to Haley Calhoun?

Uncomfortable with the fact that her emotions were trying to trump her mind, she took a step back, bumped her behind against a bookshelf and managed a smile. “We're still friends,” she said, then she promptly turned away from those knowing eyes and made a beeline for home.

Chapter Nine

D
avid rang up sale after sale as the entire Claremont community, as well as those from the surrounding counties, lined up for their autographed copies of
Southern Love in Claremont
. With Destiny Lee featuring over fifty Claremont love stories, practically everyone knew someone in the book. Luckily for David, it appeared everyone who was in the book or knew someone in the book wanted a copy or two.

By the end of the night, he'd sold all but twenty copies.

“Wow,” Destiny said, beaming as she capped her pen, “that was incredible.”

“I'll say it was,” Troy said, undeniably happy for his wife. “You were awesome.”

“And you were awesome, Laura,” Destiny said as Laura picked up the empty plates and bottles around the signing area. “I hadn't considered having anything for them to snack on while they waited. Those cookies were a hit, and the bottled water kept them happy, too.”

“I read up on how to have a successful book signing,” Laura said. “The number-one thing the sites recommended was plenty of snacks and water.”

“Well, it worked,” Destiny said.

David joined Laura in picking up the trash. She seemed to notice he was helping but didn't look in his direction. She'd avoided eye contact like the plague since her questions about his dating status on Tuesday; however, David had felt her gaze on more than one occasion.

He reached for an empty water bottle at the same time that Laura noticed it, and their hands collided on the plastic. David didn't move his, but she jerked hers away as though she'd been scalded.

He smiled. She blushed. And David wondered what was happening between himself and his new employee.

Destiny cleared her throat, and David knew by looking at the lady that she'd seen the odd reaction. Then she laughed out loud.

Laura looked up. “Everything okay?”

Troy put his arm around his wife. “Yeah,” Troy said, apparently watching everything, “my wife is just happy. I think I'll take her out to dinner to celebrate. How about Messina's?”

“Sounds yummy.” Destiny gave David and Laura a finger wave. “Y'all have a great night, and thanks again.”

“You're welcome,” they both said, and then continued cleaning up while the couple left the bookstore.

After tossing the last paper plate in the trash, Laura walked behind the counter to get her purse. The past three nights, David let her say her quick goodbye and rush to exit. But he didn't feel like letting her run away again tonight. He moved to stand between the end of the counter and the wall, essentially blocking her in. “Where are you headed?”

She slid the strap of her purse a little higher on her shoulder and then ran her fingers across the beads of her necklace. “Just going on home to eat and go to sleep. Been a long day.” She took a small step toward him and waited for him to move.

David didn't budge. Her hand continued flitting across the red and gold beads of the long necklace. She looked beautiful, as always, wearing a long black dress that nearly met the floor, a red jacket and red and gold dangly earrings that matched her necklace. Red flat shoes similar to ballerina slippers peeked beneath the hem of her dress.

“Excuse me, please.” She attempted another step, and again he stood his ground.

“I'm not letting you go home before we celebrate.”

Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened in a little
O
. Then she cleared her throat and asked, “Celebrate? Celebrate what?”

“This was the best sales night in the history of the bookstore, or at least as long as I've owned it,” he said. “If that doesn't call for a celebration, I don't know what does.”

She seemed to consider his invitation but then shook her head. “I really do need to get home. It's been a long day, and I think I'll just eat a sandwich and go on to bed.”

“All right then,” he said. “Coffee and a sandwich it is.” He turned and waved her through the opening to exit the counter area.

“Coffee and a sandwich?” she asked, and he was glad to see she appeared to be holding back a smile.

“Have you been to The Grind yet? It's delicious.”

“The coffee shop? No,” she said. “Do they have more than coffee? I mean, I like coffee, even if I'm only drinking decaffeinated now for the babies, but you said coffee and a sandwich.”

“Reubens, turkey and brie, roast beef, pecan chicken salad, BLT with applewood bacon.” He took a breath to keep going, but she held up a hand.

“You had me at turkey and brie.”

He laughed and was pleased to see her join in. She'd been nervous and jittery around him ever since their awkward conversation Tuesday night, when she'd shocked him by showing a hint of jealousy. The emotion didn't coincide with the type of relationship he'd believed they had, and if she were jealous...what did that mean? Was Laura actually feeling something toward him beyond friend and employer?

“So, sandwich and coffee with the boss,” she said, stepping ahead of him toward the door, “to celebrate our big night.”

David was pretty sure she clarified because she didn't want this to appear like a date. Which was fine. He didn't, either. He simply wanted to celebrate, and he also wasn't quite ready to send Laura home.

Fifteen minutes later, they were seated at one of the cozy bistro tables near the fireplace inside The Grind sipping on vanilla lattes and listening to the band More Than This playing contemporary Christian music. Laura ordered the turkey and brie, of course, and David had his traditional Reuben. Both had the homemade sweet potato chips on the side.

Laura hummed her contentment through the first bite, and David nodded.

“Told you it was good.”

“You were telling the truth,” she said.

“I always try to.”

The band finished playing “Lifted High” and then went to take a break. David and Laura clapped along with the others in the coffee house.

“They're really good,” she said.

“I know. It's amazing how much talent we have locally, for a town this small.”

She took another bite of her sandwich and hummed again.

He grinned, and she blushed.

“Sorry. It's just
so
good.”

“I'm glad you're enjoying it,” he said, “and I'm glad you agreed to come out with me.”

Her eyes widened as she chewed, then she tapped beneath her throat as she swallowed. “But—this isn't a date,” she said, “is it?”

David shook his head. “Just a celebration.”

“I knew that.” She took another bite, smiling through her chewing.

“I hope you know how much I appreciate everything you've done at the store this week. The book club is a hit, and the signing today was so much better because of you. Destiny was right—you did a great job keeping the crowd happy while they waited.”

“It only took a few searches on the internet,” she said, plucking a sweet potato chip from her plate and taking a bite.

“But you took the time to do it, and it worked. I appreciate that.”

She ate another chip. “Hence our celebration.”

“Exactly.” He polished off his sandwich and then listened to the band tune their instruments to get ready for another song. Soon they'd started into “Where You Are,” and David softly sang along.

When the song ended, he turned to see Laura had finished everything on her plate and was looking at him with a strange expression.

“What?” he asked.

“You sing, too. Is there anything you can't do?”

“I told you before, I can't cook, nothing more than eggs and anything grilled. I'm fairly hopeless in the kitchen.”

“Sure you are,” she said, tossing her napkin on the table.

Grinning, David caught the attention of their waitress. “Rhonda, which cookies do you have fresh out of the oven?”

“They just finished making the white-chocolate macadamia-nut cookies,” she said.

“Awesome. We'll take four cookies and two lattes to go please, and the check.”

She pulled her notepad out of her pocket, jotted down the additional items and handed him the ticket. “There you go. I'll be right back with your cookies and lattes.”

“What if I don't want cookies?” Laura asked.

“Then there will be more for me,” David said. “You don't want warm, gooey, fresh-out-of-the-oven white-chocolate macadamia-nut cookies?”

She smirked. “You know I do.”

“That's what I thought,” he said.

Rhonda returned, placed the cups on the table and handed David a small white bag that smelled incredible. He thanked her, paid her and then asked Laura, “Ready to go?”

* * *

Laura couldn't remember ever feeling quite this special. David opened the door for her as they left the coffee house, and she worked to pull her jacket tighter with her free hand. David noticed and reached for her cup.

“Let me hold it while you tighten your coat,” he said, his fingers grazing hers as he wrapped them around the cup and slid it away.

Laura attempted to ignore the sensation that zinged through her at the mere contact, drew her jacket closer around her and tightened the belt. “Thanks,” she said, reaching for the coffee, their fingers brushing again with the exchange.

“Just wait until you try this.” He withdrew a steaming cookie from the bag.

Laura reached for the treat, but it was so warm and gooey that it bent in half and broke, the majority of it landing with a plop on the sidewalk.

“No way,” David said, frowning.

Laura looked at the goo on the sidewalk and the disappointment on his face and burst out laughing.

“Hey now, this isn't funny.” He still had a small dab of cookie in his fingers, and it appeared to be melting to the touch.

“Oh, I beg to differ,” she said, laughing so hard she nearly spilled her coffee, “it's very funny.”

Obviously seeing what happened, Rhonda darted out of the restaurant with enough napkins to choke a horse and shoved them at David. “Here you go!” she said.

Which only made Laura laugh harder. And even though her coffee had a lid, it still sloshed through the drink hole, and for some reason, she found that quite hysterical, too.

David used a napkin to get the mess off the sidewalk, tossed it in a nearby can and then made another effort to pull a cookie from the sack, this time with a napkin.

He handed the napkin-encased cookie to Laura, and she happily took a bite.

The sweet white chocolate melted on her tongue. “Oh, wow, you were right. These are amazing.”

“Thanks,” Rhonda said, then she headed back into the coffee house.

David and Laura started walking down the sidewalk, and he pulled another cookie from the bag. It started folding over, and this time, he tossed the whole thing in his mouth.

“Kinda hard to take your time enjoying it that way, isn't it?” she asked.

He smirked. “Oh, I enjoyed it.”

They neared Carter Photography, and she glanced at the white sack. “Okay, I'm ready for my other one,” she said.

He grinned. “Your other one was the one I dropped on the sidewalk. This one's mine.” He lifted the last cookie, which, maybe because it'd had a little time to cool, stayed together.

“Hey, I'm eating for three here,” she said.

“You have a point.” He handed her the cookie.

Laura propped her coffee in the crook of her arm so she could break the cookie in half, then handed part to David. “Here.”

He took it. “You sure?” he asked, tossing it in his mouth.

She laughed. “Well, I guess I'd better be, huh?”

“Looks that way.”

She ate the last bite of hers. “Thanks for the celebration dinner and for walking me home.”

“You're welcome.” He stepped beneath the awning and watched as she found her keys in her purse and then moved to unlock the door. “I'll make sure you get inside safely.”

Laura nodded and fumbled to slide the key into the lock. Finally, it clicked, and she turned the knob. It almost felt like the end of a date, like the moment when she'd stall, hold her breath and wait for their first kiss. She looked back at the man who'd already touched her heart in ways that no one else ever had. “But this isn't a date?” She'd meant it to come out as a statement, but the question was there, just the same. Why couldn't she stop her mouth from blurting whatever traipsed across her heart? She was practically
asking
for this to be a date, and that wasn't what she wanted.

Remember Jared. Remember how much relationships hurt. Remember how you promised—
promised
—yourself that you would not jump into another one too soon!

But this is David. He's perfect
, her heart whispered, and her mind quickly screamed,
You thought Jared was perfect, too!

He stepped closer, and Laura braced for a kiss that she was pretty sure would rock her to her toes. A kiss she did
not
want. Really.

“This isn't a date,” he whispered.

Stunned, she blinked, nodded. “Have a good night,” she said, opening the door.

“And, Laura...”

She looked back into those dark eyes, at the gold flecks catching the porch light. “Yes?”

“If I took you on a date, you wouldn't have to ask. You'd know.”